(Sherlock sent John to Alex Woodbridge's house to gather info. While Sherlock and I were outside of the Hickman Gallery)

(Y/N): Uh...remind me...why are we trying to sneak in this museum?

Sherlock: Why do you think?

(Y/N): No...

Sherlock: Yes

(Y/N): Are you insane? This is trespassing. We'll get arrested!

Sherlock: By whom? Lestrade?

(I followed him to the back of the museum. There were hardly any people around at the back)

(Y/N): Well that's more embarrassing!!

(There was a security guard walking out and having a smoke)

Sherlock: Knock him out

(Y/N): W-What???

Sherlock: I thought you had a black belt

(Y/N): Yes I do but doesn't mean I have the right to knock an innocent-

Sherlock: Don't worry I'll catch him before he hits his head

(Y/N): Ugh...

(I crouch down and quietly made my way towards the security guard. I stand up and quickly hit him hard on the head with my elbow. As he was falling down, Sherlock ran over and caught him before he fell on the ground. He dragged the innocent man's body out of my view)

(After a little while, Sherlock appears again, wearing the uniform the man had on. I have to admit, he looked quiet good)

(Y/N): You stripped him naked??

Sherlock: *smiles* An actor needs his costume

(I face-palmed)

(Y/N): You really need to stop with that...

Sherlock: Come on

(He motions for us to get inside the backdoor but I stop him)

(Y/N): By the way, I'm...sorry for...what I said before

Sherlock: It's alright. You have your own perspective and I have mine. No reason to apologize

(He looks at me my stitches for a little while before saying)

Sherlock: However, I meant what I said

(Y/N): Hmm?

Sherlock: I'm not a hero

(Y/N): ......Right

(He goes inside as I follow him)

(Well...at least he's not a villain)

_________________________________________

(I stand in front of the huge painting on the white wall, right in the middle of a huge room)

(Sherlock's steps echoed throughout the whole room as he stood right next to me, staring at the painting)

(Y/N): How do know it's fake Sherlock?

Sherlock: Alex knew..some way..

(He looks out at this small room in the corner)

Sherlock: Go there, find information about it. Maybe you'll find the list of bidders. One of them hired Golem

(Y/N): Right

(I ran inside that small room, rifling through the files on the desk)

(Suddenly I hear some heels walking inside the big white room. Shit that must be the manager or someone. Why is Sherlock just standing there staring at the painting?)

Woman: Don't you have something to do?

Sherlock: Just admiring the view.

Woman: Yes. Lovely. Now get back to work; we open tonight.

Sherlock: Doesn't it bother you?

Woman: What?

Sherlock: That the painting's a fake.

Woman: *angrily* What?

Sherlock: It's a fake. It has to be. It's the only possible explanation.

(He finally turns around and starts to walk towards her)

(I come outside of the small room and walk closer to them)

(Y/N): Good afternoon, Miss Wenceslas

(He looks at me, surprised, not expecting me to come out from where I did)

Sherlock: You're in charge, aren't you, Miss Wenceslas?

Miss Wenceslas: Who are you? Why are you two here?

Sherlock: Alex Woodbridge knew that the painting was a fake, so somebody sent the Golem to take care of him. Was it you?

Miss Wenceslas: Golem? What the hell are you talking about?

(Y/N): Don't okay dumb

Sherlock: Or are you working for someone else? Did you fake it for them?

(Sherlock stood right in front of her face)

Miss Wenceslas: It's not a fake.

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

Miss Wenceslas: What the hell are you on about? You know, I could have you two sacked on the spot.

Sherlock: Not a problem.

Miss Wenceslas: *sarcastically* No?

(Y/N): Not really. We don't work here

Sherlock: Just popped in to give you a bit of friendly advice.

Miss Wenceslas: How did you get in?

Holmes: *amused* Please.

Miss Wenceslas: I want to know.

(Sherlock turns around and heads for the exit door while he takes off his cap and the security coat and throws it in the ground)

Holmes: The art of disguise is knowing how to hide in plain sight.

Miss Wenceslas: Who are you?

Sherlock: Sherlock Holmes.

Miss Wenceslas: *sarcastically* Am I supposed to be impressed?

Sherlock: You should be.

(He opens the door playfully)

Sherlock: Have a nice day!

(We walk outside of the building, and head outside to the main road waiting for a cab)

(Y/N): You're such a drama queen...

Sherlock: You're the one who picked the fight

(I sighed and decided not to say anything else. He's too fast for me...)

________________________________________

VAUXALL. NIGHT TIME.

(We just got out a cab and John decided to reunite with us after visiting Alex Woodbridge's apartment and Andrew West's fiance. Well while he was actually doing some productive investigation...I was sneaking around in museums)

(Y/N): So Alex knew absolutely nothing about art?

John: Nope not a thing but apparently he was a star gazer. Anyways where you two been?

(I take a quick look at Sherlock who just kept on walking with no care in the world)

(Y/N): Breaking the law...

John: What?!

Sherlock: Now who's the drama queen?

(I snicker at his sarcastic comment, loud enough for him to hear as he rolls back his eyes)

(We walk down a narrow dark alleyway, Sherlock buttoning his coat as he gazes up at the sky)

Sherlock: Beautiful, isn't it?

(We look up and see millions of stars spread across the night sky)

John: Thought you didn't care about things like that.

Sherlock: Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it.

(Y/N): Yeah it's beautiful

(I look up again to see the dense star field in the sky. We're a bit far from the main city so it's a bit possible to see them from here. It is really dark after all. I start to smile while looking at the fantastic view.)

(Out of the corner of my eye I could notice Sherlock looking at me. I lower my head and look at him as my smile faded)

(Y/N): What is it?

Sherlock: Nothing

(Okay...?)

John: Listen, Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answerphone at his flat. A Professor Cairns?

Sherlock: This way.

John: Nice! Nice part of town. Er, any time you wanna explain.

Sherlock: Homeless network - really is indispensable.

John: Homeless network?

(Y/N): Like all the people in the streets?

Sherlock: My eyes and ears all over the city.

John: Ah, that's... clever. So you scratch their backs and...?

Sherlock: Yes, then I disinfect myself.

(I take out the mini flashlight from my pocket and turn it on as we continued into the darkness of the Arches. Our beams pick out homeless people all over the place, most of them settling down for the night. Suddenly in the distance, the shadow of a man could be seen on a wall as he begins to stand up. The man is incredibly tall)

John: (Y/N)!

Sherlock: Come on!

(Sherlock and John duck to the side of a wall on the right while I hide behind the left while the man continues to straighten up for ages until he is over seven feet tall)

John: *whispers* What's he doing? Sleeping rough?

Sherlock: *peering round the corner*
Well, he has a very distinctive look. He has to hide somewhere where tongues won't wag - much.

John: Oh shi...

Sherlock: What?

John: I wish I'd...

(Y/N): Don't mention it

(They look at me as I bring out John's pistol from my pocket. John looks relieved at the sight of his gun)

(The man breaks into a run and hurries away down another tunnel . We chases across towards where he was and reach the tunnel just in time to see him climbing into a waiting car which immediately speeds off. Sherlock punches the air in frustration)

Sherlock: No, no, no, No! It'll take us weeks to find him again!

(I point the gun at the tires of the car, ready to pull the trigger when Sherlock stopped me almost instantly)

Sherlock: Don't. We don't want them firing back.

(I lower the gun and exhaled hard)

John: Jesus, were you actually gonna shoot?

(Y/N): I might've

(John laughs a bit and walks closer to us)

John: You're pretty calm for holding a gun for the first time

(I look at Sherlock and he does as well)

(So I guess...he didn't tell John)

(Y/N): Yeah well...it's not my first time)

(I give the gun back to John who looks at me in confusion)

(Y/N): Well I might have an idea to where he's going

Sherlock: What?

(Y/N): Like John said. Someone left Alex a message. Can't be many Professor Cairns in the book. Come on

_________________________________________

PLNETARIUM. MIDNIGHT.

(We rush inside the theatre and just down near the stage we see the same tall man suffocating a woman, Professor Cairns, with his huge bare hands over her mouth and then snaps her neck as she falls down to the floor. Her fingers drag along the mixing desk and the footage of the planets on the big screen goes into fast-forward, plunging the theatre into darkness. The Golem ducks down out of sight when Sherlock yells from the top of his voice)

Sherlock: Golem!!

Narrator: ..many are actually long-dead, exploded into supernovas.

John: I can't see him. I'll go round to the right, (Y/N) take the left.

(Y/N): Got it!

(As the footage continues spooling and then stopping and playing before spooling again, light comes and goes in the room.)

(I crouch down, carefully making my way down the theatre, looking for the Golem as John hurries off)

Sherlock: *loudly* Who are you working for this time, Dzundza?

(Suddenly I noticed the Golem stepping out of the fluctuating darkness and clamps one hand around Sherlock's mouth and nose while gripping his neck with the other. Sherlock struggles to pull free as he is slowly suffocated. John races forward and stops in front of them, his pistol held in both hands)

John: Golem! *Cocks gun*

(He points it at Golem's face, his hand and voice steady)

John: Let him go... or I will kill you.

*Tape spools* Narrator: The fourth planet of the solar system, named after the Roman God of War. ...it is a gas giant... ..takes so long to reach us... *Film spools* ..into supernovas... long dead, exploded into supernovas...

(Sherlock, whimpering in his efforts, continues trying to pull the man's hand from his face. The Golem swings him round to the left as he kicks John's gun from his hand. Sherlock tried to attack him again but he pushes him on top of John as both of them fall down to the ground, John hitting his head way too hard, finds it difficult to get back up. The Golem comes forward and presses his hands over Sherlock's face again, using his whole weight and that's when I jumped in the Golem's back and elbowed his bald head, making him groan a little in pain)

(I put my legs around his neck tight, trying to suffocate him as I kept on bashing his head. But I didn't expect him to fall back down intentionally which made me hurt my back like a bitch. I grown in pain as he stands up and starts to run for the the doors)

(Sherlock takes the gun from the floor and fires twice at him but unfortunately he manages to escape the theatre)

(As the image of a supernova dramatically explodes on the screen behind Sherlock, he angrily slams his hand down on the floor in front of him)

_________________________________________

MORNING. HICKMAN GALLERY.

(Sherlock is standing in front of the Vermeer painting, looking up information on his phone)

(John, Lestrade, Miss Wenceslas and I were standing behind him)

Sherlock: It's a fake. It has to be.

Miss Wenceslas: That painting has been subjected to every test known to science.

Sherlock: It's a very good fake, then.

(He spins around and glares at her)

Sherlock: You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?

Miss Wenceslas: Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?

(I swear to God...)

(Y/N): Listen lady, I got body slammed by a seven feet tall monster so stop with your bullshit and tell the truth

Miss Wenceslas: I have no idea-

(Y/N): PEOPLE MIGHT DIE RIGHT NOW!

(The pink phone rings and Sherlock picks it up and puts it in speaker)

Sherlock: The painting is a fake.

(No answer)

Sherlock: It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed.

(No answer)

Sherlock: Oh, come on. Proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. I've solved it. I've figured it out. It's a fake! That's the answer. That's why they were killed.

(There is no answer, just someone breathing)

(Sherlock takes a long breath to calm himself down)

Sherlock: Okay, I'll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?

Boy's voice: Ten...

(Sherlock spins around to observe the painting)

Lestrade: It's a kid. Oh, God, it's a kid!

(Y/N): Oh my God...

John: What did he say?

Sherlock: "Ten."

Boy's voice: Nine...

(Sherlock narrows his eyes as he observes every inch of the painting)

Sherlock: It's a countdown. He's giving me time.

Lestrade: Jesus!

Sherlock: The painting is a fake, but how can I prove it? How? How?

Boy's voice: Eight...

(He turns around and glares at a slightly concerned Miss Wenceslas)

Sherlock: This kid will die. Tell me why the painting is a fake. Tell me!

Boy's voice: Seven...

Sherlock: No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if I figure it out.

(He looks at the painting again)

(This is crazy...)

Sherlock: Must be possible. Must be staring me in the face.

Boy's voice: Six...

John: Come on.

Sherlock: Woodbridge knew, but how?

Boy's voice: Five...

Lestrade: It's speeding up!

John: Sherlock.

Sherlock: Oh!

Boy's voice: Four...

Sherlock: In the planetarium, You heard it too. Oh, that is brilliant; that is gorgeous!

(He shoves the pink phone into my hands as he takes out his phone while walking away from the painting and smiling)

Boy's voice: Three...

John: What's brilliant? What is?

Sherlock: This is beautiful. I love this!

Boy's voice: Two...

(Sherlock walks back to the painting, laughing in delight)

(I scream at him as loud as I could)

(Y/N): Sherlock!

(He takes the phone from my hands and yells in it)

Sherlock: The Van Buren Supernova!

(There's a short pause, then the boy's plaintive voice comes from the speaker)

Boy's voice: Please. Is somebody there?

(We all sigh out in relief. I didn't even realize how long I was holding my breath)

Boy's voice: Somebody help me!

(Sherlock hands the phone to Lestrade)

Sherlock: There you go. Go find out where he is and pick him up.

(Sherlock points the stars in the painting)

Sherlock: The Van Buren Supernova, so-called.

(He holds up his phone at Miss Wenceslas's face so she could see the screen)

Sherlock: Exploding star, only appeared in the sky in eighteen fifty-eight.

(He gives her a triumphant look before he walks away)

John: So how could it have been painted in the sixteen forties?

(Y/N): Wow...

(We both grin at each other and then look at Miss Wenceslas who looks at the painting in shock)

(Suddenly John has a text alert. From Mycroft)

John: *growls* Oh..Sherl...

(And then we walk away)

_________________________________________

SCOTLAND YARD

(Miss Wenceslas was sitting at Lestrade's desk while Sherlock was sitting near the window with his hands in the prayer position under his chin)

(I was standing in the corner as Lestrade walks into the office and sits down on his chair behind the desk)

Holmes: You know, it's interesting. Bohemian stationery, an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss Wenceslas. This whole case has a distinctly Czech feeling about it. Is that where this leads?

(She doesn't reply)

Holmes: What are we looking at, Inspector?

Lestrade: *thoughtfully* Well, um, criminal conspiracy, fraud, accessory after the fact at the very least. The murder of the old woman, all the people in the flats...

Miss Wenceslas: I didn't know anything about that! All those things, please, believe me.

(Sherlock gives a little nod at Lestrade, suggesting that she is telling the truth)

Miss Wenceslas: I just wanted my share. The thirty million.

(Y/N): Who helped you?

Miss Wenceslas: I found a little old man in Argentina. A genius - I mean, really. Brushwork, immaculate. Could fool anyone.

Sherlock: *sarcastically* Mmm.

Miss Wenceslas: Well, nearly anyone. But I didn't know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea. A spark which he blew into a flame.

Holmes: *sharply* Who?

Miss Wenceslas: I don't know.

(Lestrade gives a disbelieving laugh)

Miss Wenceslas: It's true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was... put in touch with people... his people...

(Sherlock begins to sit up from his chair, his expression becoming more and more concentrated?

Miss Wenceslas: Well, there was never any real contact. Just messages... whispers

(Sherlock leans closer to her, his face intense)

Sherlock: And did those whispers have a name?

(She gazes ahead of herself for a moment. She looks at me and nods before turning to Sherlock)

Miss Wenceslas: Moriarty.

(Moriarty....that's the one they were talking about)

(Slowly Sherlock sinks back in his chair. As Miss Wenceslas looks anxiously at Lestrade again, I notice Sherlock gazing into the distance, his eyes full of thought. Eventually, he raises his hands into a prayer position in front of his mouth, and then grins)

(For some reason, that grin sent chills down my spine)

(I had a bad feeling about it all...like something is going to happen. Something big...)