(*Sigh* Life is hard when you're a writer who can't write. Okay, here we go.)

     "The gallery attendant," Sherlock muttered.

     "Sorry, what?" John asked.

     You were in a cab with the boys headed to the gallery, the one Woodbridge worked at. Sherlock was on the far right, John in the middle. Which obviously meant you were on the left side of the car. It was just pulling up beside the museum.

     "John, I need you to find out all you can about the gallery attendant," Sherlock said, louder this time, as he opened the door. "Call Lestrade and he can tell you the address." He stepped out. "(Y/N), come on."

     "Wait, Sherlock!" you called. "Are you really going to trust John to investigate?" You glanced back at John. "No offense," you added. He just rolled his eyes.

     "Good point," Sherlock admitted.

     "I'd better go with him. And hey, when you get in there, get a picture of the painting and send it to me."

     Sherlock nodded and shut the door.                                                                                                                

     -----

"We'd been sharing about a year," Julie- Alex's flatmate- said, leading you and John into his attic space. "Just sharing."

     While John stared around the room, adorably pointless as he was, you did some investigating. Julie hovered anxiously in the background. She was breathing so loudly you wanted to strangle her. (I'm usually watching the episode as I write, but I seriously can't right now, because loud breathing is like a pet peeve of mine. Sorry, Julie.)

     Your eyes fell on an object on the other side of the room, covered in a large white sheet. You danced your way across the room (goshdarnit, it was figurative- you didn't do the moonwalk across the floor or something), careful not to step on any of Alex's things scattered about. 

     Under the sheet was a telescope. You smiled. You liked to stargaze in your childhood, although you could never afford a telescope. You'd always wanted one. "Stargazer, was he, Julie?" you asked.

     Julie seemed startled to be addressed. "Y-yeah. Mad about it! It's all he ever did in his spare time..." she smiled faintly. "He was a nice guy, Alex. I liked him. He was, uh..." Julie laughed. "Never much of a one for hoovering."

     "What about art?" John asked. "Did he know anything about that?"

    Julie shook her head and shrugged. "It was just a job, you know?"

     You looked around the room. The only things here were necessities or things to do with astronomy. Did Alex really have no other hobbies? It seemed so. You didn't know whether to be relieved of suspicious. If it the only thing he ever did in his spare time was look at the stars, that made your job easier. But people are rarely so simple.

     "Has anyone else been round asking about Woodbridge before or after he died?" you asked Julie. 

     "No," Julie answered. "But we did have a break in the night before. Nothing taken. Oh- there was a message left for Alex on the landline."

     "Who was it from?" you asked, moving from where you stood to a map of the stars on the wall. One area was circled in red marker, and written beside it were the words ' Van Buren Supernova! '. 

     "Well, I can play it for you," Julie offered. John briskly nodded to her and she left the room.

     You got out your phone, the one from Mycroft, and took a picture of the map. 

     Julie came back with the phone and played the message. It was the voice of a mild woman.

     "Oh, should I speak now?  Alex? Love, it's Professor Cairns. Listen, you were right. You were bloody right. Give us a call when-"  the voice was cut off by the dial tone.

     "Do you know who Professor Cairns is, Julie?" you asked her gently. She shrugged helplessly. "Okay, John, Sherlock's at the gallery now. I need you to text him and ask if there's a Professor Cairns working there."

     John didn't ask why you couldn't do it yourself, probably figuring that if he did you'd say something annoyingly clever that would leave no one better off. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and turned it on, only to see a  message alert. Even upside down, you could read that it said,  "RE: BRUCE-PARTINGTON PLANS

     Have you spoken to West's fiancee yet?

     Mycroft Holmes".

     You smiled to see the older Holmes brother's message. You were probably Mycroft's only friend. "Looks like you've got work to do,"you teased John, smirking. He looked up at you with a tired smile of his own.

     "Looks like."

     Sherlock was just walking out of 221B when your cab pulled up beside the flat. It was dark outside. You put away your iphone, which you'd been staring at the Vermeer painting on. There was something about the painting that you couldn't quite place. It looked familiar.

      You paid the driver and stepped out. "Sherlock!"

     "(Y/N)! Good. What did you find out about Alex?"

     "He wasn't particularly knowledgeable in the field of art, Sherlock. Only thing he did when he had freetime was stargaze."

     "So how'd he know the painting was a fake if he knows nothing special about art?"

     "No clue."

     "Any hobbies?"

     "Stargazing was his hobby."

     Sherlock huffed. "Brilliant... Wait. Where's John?"

     "Took you long enough to notice. He's on Mycroft's wild goose chase, and while he's gone, we've got to go to the gallery."

     "Why? Is this about Professor Cairns?" Sherlock asked.

     "Yes. I think she knows the painting is a fake. If the Golem was sent after Woodbridge because he knew it too, then she's next."

-----

     The Planetarium was where you found her, Professor Cairns. You immediately noted the connection- both Cairns and Woodbridge had some interest in the stars Not just an interest in her case; it was also her job.

     Bad time to be mentally jotting down notes, though. Another connection: The Golem.

     Professor Cairns was being attacked by him. Did I forget to mention that?

     "Golem!" Sherlock shouted. The assassin had her in his grip, his gloved hands pressed against her nose and mouth. At Sherlock's voice, the Golem's silhouetted figure looked up, his struggle with the Professor suddenly put on hold. He seemed to panic for just a moment, but then, with sudden decisiveness, the Golem snapped Cairn's neck. She fell to the floor and the theater was plunged into darkness. The documentary reel was spooling like crazy, providing flashes of light every few seconds. "(Y/N)!"

     "I can't see him, Sherlock!" you yelled back over the nonsense of the reel's soundtrack. You heard Sherlock say something back, but couldn't make it out.

     And then, there- his shadow as clear as day against the rapidly changing projector images. The Golem. As you headed toward the stage, the Golem's figure disappeared. You stopped. Where did he go? And where had Sherlock gone?

     Suddenly strong hands wrapped around your mouth and nose. You clawed at your attacker, but it was no use. You were slowly suffocating.

     "Golem!" Someone shouted. Not Sherlock. Was that... John? The spooling reel provided a flash of yellow light that confirmed it. John stood there pointing a gun at the Golem's face. "Let her go!" John demanded. "Or I will kill you."

     The Golem didn't loosen his grip, but he stopped fighting back against your struggle. In turn, you brought your elbow down on his stomach.

     He doubled over in pain and you fell to the ground. As John ran up, the Golem let out an infuriated roar and made a move toward you, ready to attack.

     And then suddenly he fell to the ground away from you. John helped you to your feet and you tried to catch your breath. You could see that Sherlock was wrestling with the deadly assassin, but the Golem was winning out.

     "John," you said. He didn't need an explanation to know what you needed. Without a word, John handed you his gun- you were a much better shot than him. You aimed the gun carefully, heart racing. You had to time this perfectly. If you missed, Sherlock might be shot. You waited until the spooling reel provided another flash of light, and then you shot. There was a pained roar.

     And the next time the light flashed, the Golem was gone.