The Trouble With Sentiment

Chapter Twenty

"Fezzik, are there rocks ahead?" a voice with a clearly fake Spanish accent asked.

"If there are, we'll all be dead," came a low, but strangely cheerful reply.

"No more rhymes now, I mean it!" cried a man with a strident, whining tone.

Then as if they'd been primed for it, Vivian and the entire audience shouted as one, "Anybody want a peanut?"

Sherlock shook his head at the sheer absurdity it all. He was the only sane one there.

Laughter, cheers, and applause rolled through the crowd, and Vivian grinned. "This film is the best, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," he said, gaze in search of the most efficient path to the stairwell entrance. "I've never seen it." Wonderful. They'd have to wind through the hot tubs and hordes of people to get to it. He began to make his way toward the door, but Vivian blocked his path.

"Please tell me you're joking," she said.

"If I say yes, will it end this conversation?"

She flung a hand at the screen. "How have you not seen The Princess Bride? It's a cult classic!"

"Yes, what a travesty I've missed out on something so ridiculous." He stepped around her and continued walking.

"It is a travesty," she said in a hushed voice, catching up with him. Despite it being a futile effort, she hunched down, trying to avoid blocking anyone's view of the screen. Sherlock didn't bother. Whispering apologies, Vivian hurried forward, now equally as eager as he was to get through the crowd. He held the stairwell door open and ushered her through. It was blessedly empty. When she moved toward the lift, he waved her toward the stairs. "This way."

"I still can't believe you haven't seen it," she said as they began their descent.

"Are you still going on about that film?"

"Yes, because it's brilliant. If you gave it a chance, I know you'd enjoy it."

He opened his mouth to argue, but paused. In light of her recognizing in him the potential to appreciate food, there was a slight chance she was right. "Be that as it may, I prefer not to waste my time watching films."

"Having fun isn't a waste of time." She stopped on the landing and frowned up at the corner wall.

"What is it?"

"I swear that camera just moved."

Sherlock muttered a curse. Mycroft had found them. "We need to go now." He grabbed her hand, and they began to run down the stairs. They were two floors away from the ground level when the door on the landing behind them opened. In strode the businessman in the charcoal suit.

"Good morning," the man said, smiling like he'd just doubled his profit on a stock sale.

"It was until you walked in," Sherlock said.

A barking laugh. "I was told you were funny, but I didn't really believe it."

"Oh yes. I'm hilarious."

The ground level door opened, and the woman in black entered. She nodded up at the man. "Eric."

"Katarina," he said, with a grin. "I've found our missing friends."

"I can see that." She looked at her watch. "If we wrap this up quickly and get our report in, we should still be able to make our breakfast reservation at The Wolseley."

Vivian leaned in close to Sherlock. "Their Eggs Benedict is fantastic," she whispered.

He shook his head. Only Vivian would be thinking about food right now.

"Excellent," Eric said. He turned his attention back to them, expression pleased. "Now, if the two of you wouldn't mind coming with us, we'd greatly appreciate it."
"Funny," Sherlock said. "We'd greatly appreciate it if you'd leave us alone."

"That's not going to happen, Mr. Holmes."

"Your scenario isn't either." The tension in the stairwell ratcheted up a notch, and Sherlock glanced over at Vivian, trying to judge how she was faring. She'd kept a cool head so far, but not everyone could remain collected once a confrontation turned violent. Most people froze. Others ran. A small percentage fought back. Of that percentage, an even smaller number survived. The body could be trained to defend itself, but the key to victory was in the mind. Emotion was the enemy. Fear, anger, aggression, even the more positive emotions like the heady rush of danger and the thrill of the fight could spell doom for a fighter. Vivian had undergone physical training, but had she been prepared mentally as well? He'd find out shortly.

Vivian unbuttoned his Belstaff coat, which she still had on. After removing it, she hung it neatly over the railing, pulled her hair back with a tie, then slipped her shoes off, setting them out of the way. Eric and Katarina shared a mystified glance. They had no idea what she was up to.

"Right. Does anyone have a preference?" Vivian asked.

"Preference?" Eric asked, brows rising.

"For opponent," she said, smiling brightly up at him. "We're both very good."

"Well, I--I.." Eric sputtered a moment, caught off guard by her blasé attitude.

Katarina shrugged, gaze gone watchful. Sherlock could tell she wasn't sure whether Vivian was bluffing or not. The two agents knew to be wary of Sherlock, but Vivian was a wild card.

Sherlock nodded at Vivian. "Lady's choice."

"How gallant of you." She swept an assessing gaze over Eric, then studied Katarina.

Who would she choose? Eric was Sherlock's height, but bigger boned and broader in the shoulder. Judging by the way he was already balanced on the balls of his feet, he preferred boxing. Where Eric hummed with energy, Katarina was still. She'd slunk into the room so silently, Sherlock wouldn't have known she'd entered if not for the movement of door. She preferred martial arts, probably aikido.

"You can take him," Vivian said, nodding at Eric. "I'll take the Dread Pirate Roberta."

Eric's barking laugh echoed down the stairwell.

Katarina glared. "Shut it, Eric."

"You do wear a lot of black, Kat."

"I said shut it."

Sherlock shot a questioning glance at Vivian.

She looked pained. "You really need to see The Princess Bride," she said, then descended the stairs toward Katarina.

"If I'm the Dread Pirate, then you must be an R.O.U.S.," Katarina said to Vivian as they faced off, tone scathing.

"Now, that's rude. I was trying to be nice. Maybe I should have called you Buttercup instead. You certainly appear to lack agency."

Katarina's scowl deepened, and Sherlock's esteem for Vivian rose. No punches had been thrown, but she'd already begun the fight. She was needling her opponent, searching for a weakness to exploit, and she'd found one. Clever. He forced himself to look away. Vivian could take care of herself. He had his own adversary to face. Perhaps if he finished early, he could catch the tail end of her fight.

Sherlock walked up to the landing where Eric waited for him, then smiled. "Shall we begin?"

------------------------------------------------------------

I'm back! I hope all of you are doing well. Thank you for being so patient with me. I'm finally feeling human again. The second trimester is much more tolerable! Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! In addition to The Princess Bride references, there are two other TV/Film Easter Eggs in here. Let me know if you find them. :-)