Story Notes:
Well..this is all because SPARKLESTAR abandoned her awesomely wonderful fanfic "Votary To Fond Desire," and us, almost three years ago. Maybe, just maybe, if she discovers that I've has taken it upon myself to FINISH it for her, she'll come over here and kick my bootie -- and then hopefully tell us the real rest of the story.
I lack her skill, but maybe I can be a thorn in her side and inspire her to rescue her devoted readers. Maybe?
Anyway, you can read her first three chapters here at Vigilante, and a fourth at . Still can't read it all, though. Pout!
Just what entered my mind when I let it wander as I was vacuuming. Mean of someone to leave us all hanging, that way. See what happens? ;)
My apologies to SparkleStar and hopefully, no offense! I wish you would come back and finish your story!
All mistakes are MINE, but nothing else is! I don't own V, more's the pity. Quite the contrary...he seems to have taken quite firm ownership of me. :
Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
I also have to acknowledge that this is a continuation of another person's work, which was left unfinished a long time ago. I have no permission to continue the story, I'm doing it hoping SparkleStar will emerge from the ether and tell me to shove off, and finish her own story herself! :)
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A Votary's Revenge?
"V!" "V!" Evey rattled the doorknob again in frustration. "V!!!" She yelled, louder this time. Still no response. She put her ear tight up against the door, trying to hear any hint of movement from the gallery. Was he out there? She was certain he was, why would he LOCK her into her bedroom if he was going to go out? He obviously was up to something out there..something that had everything to do with her...with Valentines Day...with...with the..(..was there a "them?") Equally obvious therefore was the fact that he could damn well hear her calling to him and was choosing to ignore her. OH! He was SO going to PAY for this!
Problem was..she wasn't just annoyed anymore. She had to go. He'd shut her up in here before she'd even had a chance to finish her breakfast...leading her away from the table with her eyes closed as if he was leading her to some kind of surprise, only to end up here, in her own bedroom...and then locking her inside! How could he? Leaving her here to wait..until 7 pm? Which at this point was a mere - she looked over her shoulder and checked the clock - 3 more hours away!? Oh, God. Well, she hadn't had time to visit the loo this morning to wash up..her hair was still a wild mess..she had no makeup on..and though she had brushes and makeup and the vanity mirror in her room, she still wanted to brush her teeth, wash her face...and most urgently, use the facilities! And naturally, knowing she couldn't was making it that much worse. She was verging on panic.
What the hell was wrong with V - how thoughtless could he be, thinking she could go all day without a trip to the loo? But far worse than that..how could he lock her up like an animal in a cage? Well if she'd needed a none-too-subtle kick in the head to remind her of her real status here in the Shadow Gallery, that had certainly done the trick. Her eyes began to burn as she indulged this little moment of self-pity. Months ago, she'd reconciled herself to spending a year trapped below ground with her mysterious savior/captor and determined to make the best of it. The Shadow Gallery was a beautiful place full of never ending diversions, and V was, after all, a marvelous companion. Though he was a bit unreachable and always enigmatic, he was solicitous to a fault and invariably polite, his gentlemanly manners impeccable; really the perfect suitor. Not that he ever gave her any indication that he actually was a suitor, really. He was just...a perfect host and companion...and friend.
Which was why she was feeling more and more hurt over his having baited and trapped her like a rat.
Couldn't he have simply asked her to give him some privacy? Did he have so little faith and trust in her, after months of living together, that he had to lock her in making her feel like the prisoner she really was? She was actually surprised at how badly that stung. She was hurt, and angry, and ridiculously, growing desperate over the need to relieve herself. There was no way she was going to make it till evening and if she had to endure the humiliation of soiling herself because he'd locked her up in here, she would never, ever forgive him.
Of course, her mind had long ago gone flying off in pursuit of that little "what if?" and she'd already resolved to use the room's small dust bin as a midden, if necessary. The idea was marginally less appalling than squatting in the far corner of the room like an animal, and she would forever hold V responsible for reducing her to such humiliation. Oh...was he going to pay!
Well, if she had to swallow her pride and appeal to him very explicitly, it was his fault. If she had to offend his sense of decorum with crude references to bodily functions, he had only his inscrutable self to blame for it. So once more she leaned close to the door and called out. "V. V! I know you're out there. I know you can hear me. So listen carefully. If you don't...unlock. This. Door. RIGHT now...I am going to have an..accident..in here." She paused to let that little visual sink in. "And I swear...on my mother's grave..." against her will her voice quivered and she silently cursed herself for it "...if you make me do that I will never, ever speak to you again." That last statement came out through clenched teeth and she held her breath as it hung in the air; she hadn't really known she was going to indulge in so much drama, her mouth seemed to have acquired a will of its own. It was a hefty trump card, however, and she could only wait to see if it had the desired effect.
Silence. She waited. Seconds ticked by with no indication that he'd heard, or that he was even still alive out there for that matter. Just as her anger and resentment came welling up in the form of unwanted, hateful tears, there was a CLICK from the other side of the door. That was all. No words, no footsteps..he must have tiptoed to the door, for Heaven's sake, she thought, as she put her hand out to try the doorknob. It gave against the pressure from her hand and sighing with relief, she dashed to grab toiletries from the vanity, clean underthings off the end of her bed, and back to the door. She really was in a massive hurry now that her brain had signaled her bladder it was at last safe to think about evacuation.
She yanked open the door and was surprised to find V standing there, in the corridor, watching her. And effectively blocking the view and access to the gallery, she also noted. The look she settled on him could have vaporized whole glaciers, and she stalked angrily away from him, toward the bathroom door. She uttered not one word but there was no mistaking the venom in her eyes and the fire in her complexion.
"Uh-oh..." thought V, as he watched her disappear around the corner.