Brilliant {A BBC Sherlock Fanfic}

True Brilliance

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE: TRUE BRILLIANCE

A/n: I'm sorry it's short and that it doesn't include any John (let's just say he's on a date) but massive amounts of Sherlia and I just had to. So grab a box of tissues because the feels are going to be...Reichenbach level sadness. And we haven't even reached that chapter yet, and it will come. I'm having way too much fun writing TRF; what can I say? I'm the spawn of Mofftiss and I definitely love it.

“Sherlock, you can’t keep ignoring me.” Amelia said sternly as Sherlock walked past her. She suddenly became very aware of the jewellery box she’d been keeping in the pockets of her beige knit cardigan. She pursed her lips at the consulting detective, frowning at the way he stared right past her.

“I’m not ignoring you.” Sherlock stated simply, still not meeting her gaze. “I’m not talking to you because I do not see the point of it.”

“Sherlock,” Amelia said in exasperation, rolling her eyes, “that is the definition of ignoring someone.”

“No, ignoring someone is defined as the act of refusing to acknowledge one’s presence. Or disregarding them intentionally.” Sherlock corrected.

“Which is precisely what you’re doing,” Amelia said tiredly. “Sherlock, we need to talk.”

“About what, Amelia?”

“About this.” Amelia answered, pulling the jewellery box out of her cardigan and holding it in the air. “We need to talk about this.”

“It was a stupid idea,” said Sherlock, wandering to the window and gazing out it at the street below. “A stupid idea I came up with in an attempt to get Moriarty to give you up.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Amelia said forlornly, chewing her lower lip worriedly.

“Is it?” Sherlock asked in mild interest. “Why is it a shame?”

Amelia toyed with the end of her hair, not meeting Sherlock’s eyes, “Because I was going to say yes, you know.” Amelia said sadly, “Don’t lie to me, Sherlock, why did you actually suggest this?” She gestured with the box again, waving it around in the air.

Sherlock shrugged flippantly, “Two geniuses with slightly sociopathic tendencies; the gene pool combination would be interesting.”

“Sherlock!” Amelia growled, “Stop. Lying. To. Me! I’m not an idiot!”

Sherlock shot her a glare pointedly, “You know the reason why I did it.” Sherlock said quietly, “And you know it wasn’t because of logic…I let sentiment get the better of me.”

“Sherlock, that’s not a bad thing.” Amelia comforted, “Sometimes sentiment is what’s necessary to do what’s right. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Amelia rubbed the bandaging on her arm, feeling the raised lettering that had been scarred into her skin.

“Alive but hurt.” Sherlock pointed out, “Moriarty let sentiment get the better of him, and you ended up paying the price.”

“Yes,” Amelia drawled sarcastically, “but I’m still alive.” Amelia took a seat at the desk, sitting in the chair backwards with her legs wrapped around the backrest. “Besides,” She continued nonchalantly, examining her arm, “if I’m going to have something branded into my skin, it might as well be this.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Sherlock hissed vehemently, eyes flashing darkly.

“Because if I let myself worry,” Amelia spat, “even for one moment, Moriarty’s going to win. And I can’t let Moriarty win.”