"Damnit!"
V watched as his hat bounded away around the corner, the four gangly legs poking out from beneath the edges of the brim giving it a life of it's own. With a resounding *thwack* the newly-evolved species of spider-hat disappeared, and reappeared, then disappeared from behind the stone column. It barked at him too, the shrill yipping echoing off the cavernous walls, making V fear that the racket would be heard above.
But it wouldn't. It never was. This was becoming something of a nightly ritual. One he found a pleasant enough diversion in the absence of the only other blissful joy he'd ever known...
Evey...
With another sharp bark, this time louder and more insistant, V straightened from his work. He brushed the dirt from the tube tracks off his hands best he could. He didn't bother dusting off his clothing. He knew that in a few moments he would be on the dirty floor again anyways. He crept up to the pillar slowly, croutching down and extending his fingers into mock-claws. A wry smile played at his lips behind the mask. He felt so utterly stupid. Here he was, scarcely a month before his insurrection, with so much more preparation needed, so many more plans to be carried out...
"Hrah!" he jumped out from around the column...
...playing with a puppy...
His hat barked a third time, then shook loose from its spindly transportation and toppled to the stone walkway. It's all-too-willing carrier bounced towards it again, this time intent on sampling the tasty black wool.
"I don't think so. Leave it." V intercepted. He snatched up the hat before it fell victim to wayward jaws. Needle-point teeth nippled at his hands as he did so. "Ah, that's how this game is to be played, hmmmm?" He tweeked the puppy's long snout between two fingers, shook it slightly and gently pushed the skinny, little body away.
The puppy skidded across the floor in a sprawl of legs. He stopped when his rear butted against the stacks of fertilizer that would soon be used as explosive fodder. He sprang up, splayed front legs out, rear end upwards and bounded after his playmate. Razor-sharp fangs grabbed the first thing within reach, a pantleg and tugged backwards with all his might.
"Ouch! Damnit!" V lurched forward suddenly as those same razors connected with skin. He whirled around, the pup danced along, still tugging and growling away. V couldn't stay mad, the sight was too heartening. So seldom did he have positive contact with anyone or anything. The last sentient being to grace him with fruitful contact left him...and gave him little hope that he would be blessed by her presence ever again...
Evey...
The light-hearted, playful mood in the tunnel evaporated immediately. Bottomless sadness filled V's heart to the verge of overflow. The puppy stopped yanking at his pantleg to sit before him, head tilted quizzically sideways. V followed in suit, folding his own lankly legs criss-cross. He heaved a heavy sigh. His melancholy deppened every day he went without Evey in his life. He rested his porcelain forehead in his hands. "Oh God, Evey. My sweet Evey. How I do long to see you again..." He stiffled back the tears stinging his eyes. If that puppy's barking hadn't attracted curious explorers above ground, his own strangled, tortured sobs would.
Sensing his new companion's distress, the young, gawky adolescent canine nuzzled his nose against a black-clad shoulder.
V extended his arm, drew the young beast into his lap. He ran his rough hands over the sleek fur, finding a soothing comfort in the feel of it sliding across his fingers. Much the same way he imagined Evey's shorn scalp would feel against his skin...
"Damnit!" he yelled again. The young puppy looked up at him, whip-like tail beating wildly against his legs. V grinned sadly. "No, that's not your name. You don't have a name." He lifted the pup's front end up to gaze into his obsidian eyes. "I suppose it's time to give you one. It appears I've found myself in the possession of another wandering soul." He'd stumbled across the pathetic creature foraging through a garbage can two weeks ago. It hadn't been a foreign occurance for V. Similar encounters had sadly taken place over the twenty years of his nightly jaunts. He'd begrudgingly remained distant, packs of feral animals would have hardly helped in remaining inconspicuous. But there was something about this particular animal. His age, for one. V was both marveled and enraged that such a young spit was fending for himself. And this peculiar-looking puppy decided V was his new adoptive owner.
V couldn't even venture to guess at the lineage. Some Lurcher/Long dog cross he deduced, probably mixed somewhere with Dobermann too...as evidenced by the wedge-shaped head, black and tan markings and humongous feet. He stroked the pup's floppy ears. "Just do me a favor. Don't break my heart too..."
As if on cue, the pup's tongue snaked beneath his mask to place a wet lick against his cheek and inside his left nostril. V sighed at the gesture. He pondered for a name for a while. Fulcrum. It fit perfectly. Fulcrum. The pivot point of a lever. The leverage his heart needed to pivot away from the ache of Evey leaving him. Fulcrum, 'Rum for short.
V stood. With his new aide against his depression, he moved with purpose to finish the tasks for the night. His mind lamented on all the things he still needed to do, sending out the massive amounts of Guy Fawkes costumes in bulk would be the priority. He finished with the rewiring of the tube's electronics several hours later, having to take longer than necessary due to Fulcrum happily getting in the way. He trudged home to the Gallery, 'Rum in tow. He was too exhausted to go the extra steps to the bedroom. So, without even pausing to undress, V collapsed onto the couch. He pulled 'Rum up to lay atop his chest and within minutes both snored quietly in peaceful slumber.
CHAPTER 2
Unbeknownst to V, Evey hadn't left him. She'd needed time to figure the feelings in her heart out. With that done, she made her way to the Shadow Gallery to profess her love to him. And her love reached boundless limits at the sight of the infamous terrorist V sound asleep with a lost, stray puppy on his chest.
Oh, how Evey loved a man who loved his dog...
It was apparent to her, even whilst in slumber, the bond between V and his sojourning young canine was already strong. That, she also knew, was typical for V. He bonded quickly and fiercely. If it ever came down to it, he'd lay himself down before a speeding train if it would save her life. Judging from the way his left arm curled around the puppy's naked belly, that same intense devotion was extended to encompass another being too. She beamed behind the rain-soaked folds of her trench coat's collar. The scene was simply adorable and she committed it to the parts of her brain that housed her most intimate memories of V, to be accessed during the times she needed to smile.
Despite being upside down in the crook of V's left arm and all four spindly, lanky legs extended vertically akimbo, Evey could pinpoint the pup's breeding immediately. Her family had kept dogs as pets all the way until her parents were taken prisoner...she still took great satisfaction of the knowledge that I'Chaya, their mangy Malinois mix had taken a considerable chunk of Fingerman rump with her before being shot down that fateful night...Her father had constantly brought home sickly strays of questionable heritage. Still, his animal-loving nature spread to Evey and she knew enough to have a good guess at V's stray. A Dobermann/Greyhound lurcher. The perfect canine mirror of V. Freakishly intelligent, agile beyond the laws of physics, unwaveringly loyal, slender and sleek and stealthy. His long neck twisted impossibly so that his equally long snout nuzzled beneath the soft tresses of V's wig.
Neither stirred as Evey stalked quietly to the couch. Testament to his exhaustion, V didn't move when she removed his hat from over his masked face. She never in a million years would have pegged V the type to wear a hat as plebian as a baseball cap, but as evidenced by the tattered and frayed brim it was a well-worn piece of work attire. She never had seen him in anything other than a silken poet's shirt and vest or Jacobean suit, but she supposed he didn't go about every day in that sort of regalia. She half expected him to rouse awake as she gently stole longing strokes down his powerful legs to unlace and slip off his workboots. Evey would be more worried that something was amiss with V's lack of response to her presence save for the knowledge that he usually worked his body to the edge of breakdown that thusly required a near-comatose state of sleep to rejuvenate. V's quiet snores reassured her that everything was kosher with her Beloved. His puppy...she wondered what name his wonderful mind had conjured up for the beast...however, was sawing redwood logs. A moment of trepidation crossed her efforts when she reached V's hands to remove his gloves. The one single time she'd ever seen that brief glimpse of his hands V had recoiled so strong and staunchly avoided any future sightings.
Fuck it...
She came back to the Gallery to tell V how much she loved him. Willfully taking in the sight of his scarred flesh would only stronger prove her point. She would never run from him ever again.
Evey couldn't live a life not by V's side as much as she could a life without breathing or eating. Even separated these past few months, he was such a part of her...
...and she a part of him...that should one succumb to struggle, the other would feel the physical burden beyond reason.
She quietly padded past the couch to V's bedroom. Well, what she assumed was V's bedroom. It had been assigned hers during both of her stays in the Shadow Gallery, V had relegated himself to a hammock in his workout room. Evey could only assume that he once again comandeered the luxuriant silk sheets for himself once again. Very much to her surprise...and chagrin...the bed chamber was exactly how she'd left it. Oh, the bedclothes had been smoothed out and tucked under with pristine neatness. But her plum colored robe and slippers were right where she'd left them, the copy of "A Clockwork Orange" still marked at the page where she gave up trying to figure out the dialogue, and the overall sense that the bed hadn't been slept in since herself. A sad smile played at her lips at V's silent shrine to her.
Oh, V, how I do love you...
Not wanting to spoil his homage, she snagged two spare blankets from the chest at the foot of the bed. Just as carefully, she draped the soft fleece throw over V's sleeping form. She resisted the strong urge to accost the puppy's belly with a raspberry. But when he roused slightly to snuggle closer under the warm blanket, the mischevious look in his black eyes welcomed the future act from Evey's plump lips. She instantly fell in love. "Go back to sleep little man, we'll play in the morning," she whispered into his large floppy ears. She was rewarded with a lick full of puppy breath inside both her nostrils. With a broad, toothy grin, Evey wrapped the second blanket around herself and made to make use of V's comfy hammock. Before alighting herself from the room she paused at V's masked face. She bent down and placed a small, fleeting kiss to his porcelain lips.
"Good night My Love."
CHAPTER 3
The first sensation V had when he awoke was of the smell of bacon, eggs, coffee and everything wonderful in the world. The second was of horror at the narrowed vision of his bootless feet and naked hands atop the blanket. A mantra of *ohshitohshitohshit* shook loose the remaining morning cobwebs. He wasn't totally sure of the cause for his alarm, it was entirely possible that he'd taken them off himself. He knew that when his body went into it's coma-sleep mode he had a tendancy to sleep-walk on occasion. Lucky for him, he'd never ventured above world or did anything related to his pyrotechnics or sword play. In past occurrances he'd simply sat down at the piano and banged out a few phrases on the keys. Cooking breakfast unawares was certainly an interesting twist to one of the more bizarre after-effects of the virus in his bloodstream.
He did find it odd that he would have shed his boots and gloves, but not his mask. It was hardly the most comfortable thing to sleep in and Fulcrum's nose planted firmly beneath his left ear had made it shift awkwardly against his right cheek.
Speaking of Fulcrum, where was the little monster? In the two weeks since his pathetic, boney body had plopped down in front of him, the whirling dervish he quickly became scarcely left V's side. As homey as Fulcrum was already in the Gallery, V suspected he was probably off gnawing on a chair leg or antique rug. Fearing one of his beloved books would fall prey to the devil-dog's vice-grip jaws, V swung tired legs from the couch.
Stiff knees popped in protest as he bent and stretched over-exerted joints. Because he spent nearly as much time rolling around wrestling with Fulcrum on the floor as he did with his preparations for the Fifth, he was slightly behind schedule. As a result he was pulling more double shifts than he cared to. Even his body reached physical limits and V was pushing himself to them. No matter, he was planning on spending the next couple days back inside the Gallery anyway. It would award him the double duty of getting Rum onto a stricter training regime.
Although, after the Fifth, why should it matter? He will be back out on the streets, V thought glumly. That thought saddened him deeply. It amazed him how after all the violence and bloodshed that dominated his life for the last twenty years that a wagging tail was all that was needed to soften his vengeful soul. If the winter weather doesn't kill him, fugitive Fingermen will, he thought even sadder still. I wonder if Evey would take him?
Evey...
Fulcrum's entrance into his life wasn't the sole cause for the rebirth of V's humanity. Evey's departure was.
Once again the rent in his heart chasmed open. His legs wobbled slightly as the torture of her absense washed over him.
Evey...
My dear, sweet Evey. What I wouldn't give to see you again. You gave your word, but after what I've done...
V choked back the sobs forming in his throat. He'd also spent too too many days just simply keening uncontrollably over her being gone.
Fulcrum's gracefully clumsy antics always cheered him up. V called out to his exploring young beast, "Fulcrum! Where are you? What are you into? Fulcrum!"
"He's in here!" Evey called from the direction of the kitchen.
Evey called back...
Evey...
Ev...EVEY!!!!!
V had barely enough control to keep from breaking into a full-out sprint for the remaining few steps into the kitchen. Around the corner from the fridge was the most joyous sight he'd ever seen...Evey standing at the stove, scooping enormous servings of bacon and eggs onto a plate. Fulcrum eagerly sat at full attention by her side.
"Oops," she said sweetly when she intentionally accidentally dropped a sliver of bacon into Rum's salivating maw. She turned briefly to flash V a quick wink and innocent grin. "Mornin' Sunshine."
V, for all his chivalry and sense of decorum, could hardly contain himself. His head was spinning. His heart was fluttering somewhere in the vicinity of his epiglottis. In the way only she could, Evey left him speechless. Fulcrum, too, diverted his attention just long enough to contort his black wedge-shaped head around so that he could eye his master's approach without missing out on any other delectible morsels dropped his way. His long, whip-like tail thumped fervently against the floor.
Evey was stunning. Petite and slender. The cream v-necked sweater she wore contoured tantilizingly over her upper back and chest. Her navy skirt left his racing mind to ponder what she was wearing underneath. Never before Evey came into his life did V ever have any desire for intimacy. Now, in the past year, he craved little else whenever she was around and was aroused instantly in her proximity. He was eternally grateful that she hadn't stripped him of his other clothing last night, presently the length of his sweatershirt hid a multitude of sins.
At last he found his voice, albeit shaky from shock, "you look well." Way to go, moron. Could we maybe sound a little more banal next time, V chastised himself.
Evey turned to face him. His breath caught in his throat for a second time. No longer emaciated and bruised, she had fleshed out perfectly. He was glad to see that she'd kept up with her buzzed head. As much as he'd enjoyed her wild, flowing locks, this shorn scalp gave Evey a quiet power that spoke volumes. She dipped her head in thanks.
Finally finding the strength to his voice, V straightened, "I didn't think you would come."
Evey slid the plate of breakfast back onto the counter. "I said I would."
V moved closer. "May I ask how you managed to avoid detection?" For him, the tension was mounting, he had to wring his hands together to keep from latching onto her and never letting go.
A sardonic smile played at Evey's full lips, "a fake ID works better than a Guy Fawkes mask."
"I admit, every time I heard a siren, I worried about you." His deep voice still trembled slightly.
Evey sensed V's discomfort. A small part of her relished his squirming. A bigger part of her wanted nothing more than to tear away his mask and kiss him deeply until both their lips chapped. She couldn't do that...yet. V was visibly shocked that she'd returned to him, she'd at least allow him to recover before she molested him. She tried to shrug casually as the air was thick with pent-up emotion. "I worried about myself for a while. But then, one day I was at a market and a friend, someone I knew from the BTN, got in line behind me. I was so nervous that when the cashier asked for my money, I dropped it. My friend picked it up. When she handed it to me, she looked me straight in the eye, she didn't recognize me. I guess whatever you did to me worked better than expected."
At the mention of her imprisonment and torture, V recoiled. He would never forgive himself for what he'd done to her, despite the resulting beauty that stood before him. He had no choice but to stare at the floor, if he looked up at her right now he surely would crumble into a blubbering, apologetic heap at her feet. He was ready to bid for her forgiveness when a black and tan blur leapt from the floor to the counter. "Hey Fulcrum! No! Hey, off! Damnit!" He pushed passed Evey to salvage the rest of breakfast from the mischievious little bugger. There wasn't much left, maybe an egg or too. Resolutely, V surrendered the meager portion to his puppy.
Evey couldn't help but giggle at the exchange. It was clear, even from this brief interaction that V and his young charge were wading into unfamiliar, yet very welcoming territory. V's overt, unspoken affection towards his new dog made it that much harder for her to contain her attraction. She forced her attention to Fulcrum rather than her desire to ravage V. "Fulcrum. I like it, very fitting. I was wondering what his name was. I've been calling him Little Man all morning." She bent down to a barrage of wet kisses. "He's adorable. Where'd you get him?"
V averted his gaze as Evey bent down to Fulcrum, her sweater pulled away from her body just enough to offer him a glimpse at the top of her cleavage. Oh God, he groaned in his head. Just as his erection was beginning to wane. He turned his focus to answering her imploring. "I came across him in an alley two weeks ago. He's more or less adopted me. I decided just last night to keep him."
Mercifully, Evey straightened. "I'm glad you did. That means now that there's two people who love you unconditionally."