Brilliant {A BBC Sherlock Fanfic}

Chapter Fifteen: History Has a Way

Dedication goes to @Shememmy because she wrote something that greatly inspired part of this chapter. Thank you for the help, love!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: HISTORY HAS A WAY

"Don't you have something to do?" Ms Wenceslas asked, her thick French accent becoming thicker in her frustration. She eyed the back of two security guards: one tall male, with a head of dark, curly hair, and the other a shorter female, her brown hair pulled up into a bun.

"Just admiring the view." said the man.

"Yes. Lovely." Ms Wenceslas said sharply. "Now get back to work. We open tonight."

Amelia glanced over her shoulder at the curator. "Doesn't it bother you?" She inquired.

"What?"

"It's a fake; it has to be." Sherlock said, turning round to face the woman. He took a step towards her, Amelia following behind. "It's the only possible explanation."

"You're in charge, aren't you, Ms Wenceslas?" Amelia's silver eyes travelled to the woman's I.D badge.

"Who are you?" Ms Wenceslas demanded furiously, not recognising either of them.

"Woodbridge knew that the painting was a fake, so somebody sent the Golem to take care of him." Amelia looked her in the eyes, using her slightly taller height to her advantage. "Was it you?"

"Golem?" Ms Wenceslas frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Or are you working for someone else?" Sherlock questioned. "Did you fake it for them?"

"It's not a fake." Ms Wenceslas insisted.

"Mhm, that's what they all say when there's thirty million pounds at stake." Amelia muttered sarcastically.

"It is a fake." Sherlock said, "Don't know why, but there's something wrong with it. There has to be."

"What the hell are you on about?" Ms Wenceslas asked, "You know, I could have you two sacked on the spot."

"Not a problem." Amelia said.

"No?" Ms Wenceslas said, surprised.

"No. We don't work here, you see. Just popped in to give you a bit of friendly advice."

Ms Wenceslas narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How did you get in?"

Amelia snorted. "Please."

"I want to know." Ms Wenceslas said.

"The art of disguise is knowing how to hide in plain sight." Amelia said, shrugging. "Besides, your security system is shit."

"Who are you?" Ms Wenceslas called out as Amelia and Sherlock turned on their heels to leave.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, dropping his cap onto a railing.

Amelia shrugged her jacket off, having not bothered with a hat. "Amelia Watson."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Ms Wenceslas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You should be." Sherlock said rather smugly, dropping his jacket on the floor. He shoved the doors open almost flamboyantly, Amelia proudly holding her head up high as she skipped out of the room. Without looking back at Ms Wenceslas, Sherlock said loudly, "Have a nice day!"

"That went well." Amelia said happily as she and Sherlock left the gallery, discarding the loafers she had stolen for her brown heeled Oxfords, which helped to decrease the height difference between her and Sherlock.