Votary to Fond Desire

Chapter 1

By SparkleStar

Author's Notes: Written in response to the LJ Challenge/plot adoption thing (thanks to LJ user usaginokawaii for the idea!). I desperately wanted to keep this as cannon as possible, so the setting is while Evey was staying with V before she went to Gordon's. This story was originally a one shot that totally ran away—there are now six chapters in all, so please stay tuned.

Summery-Valentine's Day in the Shadow Gallery. How can V possibly show Evey how much he cares? V/Evey galore, bittersweet as always.

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"Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turned to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel the
That art a votary to fond desire?"

-Valentine, Two Gentlemen of Verona, I, i, 52

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V did not pace.

He never paced.

He would never pace.

He would never pace except in extreme circumstances which required deep and innumerable amounts of thought. Pacing, vaudevillian in nature and comical to an extent, did nothing but exacerbate the intensity of any situation. Normally, when ensconced in thought, V would simply sit quietly and let his mind do the pacing for him. He didn't need to add any physical motion in order to dramatize the state of confusion he was in. However, V would be the first to admit that this particular situation was slightly different. This particular situation he had never encountered, nor ever prepared for even in his most detailed plans. It was the only time in V's life that he could remember ever feeling ill-equipped—surprised--ambushed to an extent. He didn't like the way that it felt to suddenly feel so vulnerable—so exposed—so-

Human.

A scornful smile graced the features behind the mask as V shook his head slightly at the thought.

If only.

It was nighttime and—V looked over at the clock on top of the stove—late. Two in the morning to be exact. He had been sitting quietly in the kitchen of the Shadow Gallery for several hours, arms resting on the table, black gloved hands folded pensively in front of him. He was still fully dressed in his daytime regalia of black upon black at a time of the night when he normally luxuriated in the feeling of the cool air of the Galley washing over his unmasked face.

Not tonight.

V would be the first to admit that it was far too late to be sitting up at this hour thinking of anything but the plan that he had been working on for the past 15 years—the plan that he had devoted every living fiber of his being to creating and executing. The plan that had given him the will to go on--the will to breathe—the will to walk again when nothing else on earth could console him. The plan that had nourished him and fed him in his darkest hours, that had comforted him and consoled him through every agonizing night alone. It was the plan that the whole world would await with baited breath—the plan that with a little more work countless multitudes would follow to reclaim their government, their lives, and their futures.

His plan.

The plan that strangely felt less important every time he looked into her eyes.

V sighed.

Maybe, just maybe, this one time, pacing would help him think.

He glanced around the room, and then, realizing the absurdity of his actions, pushed himself back from the table. Evey had been asleep for quite sometime now—he had checked on her several hours ago. She would never know that he had ever resulted to any type of base stereotypical vigilante tactic such as pacing. V pushed himself out of his chair and tepidly took a step toward the center room of the Shadow Gallery.

One….

And another step.

Two….

He clasped his hands behind his back.

Three….and turn.

The sound of his boots upon the floor echoed off of the silent stone walls.

14 days.

In exactly 14 days—now technically 13 days—he would be faced with a foe that, from what he had heard, nary a mortal man possessed enough strength to conquer:

Valentine's Day.

V readily affirmed that he feared neither death nor anything else in the world. He had shed all traces of that type of fear long ago when most of his humanity was stripped of him from those at Larkhill. However, despite the torture, pain, and disfigurement, they could not take his mind—his ideas and emotions. Despite everything, when he walked out of that fire, enraged and vengeful as he was, V was still a person—he was still a man deep underneath it all.

At least, partly.

And because of this, V affirmed the fact that no matter how fearless he was, no matter how much of himself they had taken away, no matter what danger he faced, he, strictly speaking from his viewpoint as a man of course, was slightly….maybe…..just the littlest bit apprehensive about the idea of Valentine's Day.

One…two….three…turn.

After all, it was only several days ago that he had even decided to do something for Evey in order to commemorate the holiday. Naturally, if it were up to him, as he had in the past, he would simply skip the over-commercialized celebration as merely another calendar day—a simple rotation of the earth and nothing more. Throughout his years of observation of the English society, he had garnered a cautionary understanding of the said holiday and it's societal expectations for men. He had seen the frantic last minute rushes to the store, he had heard the repercussions for giving the wrong gift--making reservations at the wrong restaurant--saying hello with the wrong intonation. And every year as V had watched the foolishness up above, he had breathed a sigh of relief that he had no one to answer to on February the 14th. Faulkner, Dickens, and Bronte didn't care if they received pearls instead of diamonds or nothing at all.

Everything suddenly changed when V had found Evey curled up on the couch in the television room two nights ago.

V had been walking through the Galley one last time before he had planned to retire for the evening. The entire chasm was dark, save the flicker of light coming from the television room, indicating that Evey had not yet gone to bed. Following the light, V had entered the television room quietly and stood framed in the stone archway, observing the scene before him for several seconds. The girl had been reading under a small lamp, curled up under a soft cream colored blanket on the corner of the sofa. She sat facing the television that while on, had been muted. Wordless images and colors flashed from the screen cast her silhouetted features in red—no, now blue—no, now green light. Moments such as these were some of V's favorites, watching her unguarded, unprotected, being herself.

Just being Evey.

V inhaled quietly from behind his mask at the sight of the girl outlined in color reading quietly. After several seconds, he clasped his hands in front of him and cleared his throat to make his presence known.

"Two Gentlemen of Verona, I see." He had said, indicating her book with a slight nod of his head "Excellent choice."

Evey's eyes had snapped from the text to his face at the sound of his voice. He could have sworn he saw a faint smile as she twisted her body so that she was facing the back of the sofa in order to meet his gaze. "Yes. One of my favorites."

"Classic Shakespearean comedy. " V had said as he moved from the entrance of the room so that he was standing in back of the sofa looking over her, his arms spread and fingertips lightly resting on the top of the plush fabric. "But wherefore waste I time to counsel that art a votary to fond desire?"

"I just finished with that part. Valentine's speech to Proteus?"

"Correct." V had nodded again, the smile behind his mask showing in his voice.

"I thought so……" Evey had let her voice trail off as she ran a hand through her hair and looked at the silent images flashing on the television. "God—speaking of Valentine, Valentine's Day is coming up, isn't it?"

She had looked up at him quizzically, despite the rhetorical nature of the question.

Valentine's Day?

V had only been able to blink in surprise before she spoke again.

"I hadn't realized that I'd even been here that long." She had shaken her head disbelief before quickly adding "--I mean, it's not a bad thing…"

Valentine's Day?

V had managed to respond with a vague noise of affirmation. It was the first time ever in speaking to her that he had almost wished she had nothing more to say on the subject. However, despite V's sudden feeling of uneasiness, she had continued to speak.

"It's just…" Evey had said as she turned away from V and glanced back down at her book. "I mean, I always hated Valentine's Day. The guys I've been with in the past, they never really cared."

V had heard her words, but he was still inexplicably fixated on a phrase of his own.

Valentine's Day.

Cards—flowers—candy—over-commercialized tokens of false affection—teddy bears—hearts—Cupid—and--

Oh God.

He couldn't even begin to get his mind around the task of slaying such an insurmountable demon as the shroud of thinly disguised capitalism that surrounded every February 14th. However, at the present moment, there hadn't been time for him to even begin to concoct a strategy. Evey was there and was in need of some degree of comforting, something that V knew he could handle-

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Evey." V had said, regaining his usual composure after a brief second of silence. "A woman such as yourself deserves to be treated far better."

She snorted in response.

"How would you know?" Evey rested the book on her knee and looked up at V with an air of feigned suspicion "Have you ever had a valentine?"

She was teasing him, but her words had suddenly struck something very real within.

"A valentine?" V had repeated softly, much softer than he originally had intended. "No, mademoiselle, I have not."

Fifteen years of complete solitude didn't exactly go well with a holiday that celebrated love and romance. And while throughout those years, he hadn't minded being alone, somehow, having Evey there looking up at him had hit something deep inside V that he believed had been eradicated a time long ago.

Could it be possible…..did….he want a valentine as well?

"It's a silly holiday anyway." Evey had shifted her eyes back down toward her book as she spoke. Despite her composed behavior, there was a note of bitterness in her voice, mixed with anger and something V couldn't quite pinpoint. Wistfulness? Longing?

Oh, Evey…..

So, yet again, despite their different natures, they both were in the same situation. Two lonely souls victimized by one overly commercialized holiday. V had promised himself then and there that, despite his apprehension, he would not let her pass the holiday alone or unappreciated as she had before. He would not let Evey lose her faith in the wonders of romance and love. V swore he would not let her heart become as bitter and hardened as his was.

Or was it?

And so, mulling over these thoughts and questions, V continued his pace two nights later.

One…two….three…turn.

But what would she want?

Was she the type who would want nothing at all? A quiet, intimate dinner? An extravagant, elaborate celebration?

Flowers?

No—too temporal.

Chocolate?

No—too corporeal.

The Hope Diamond?

Well, now there was an idea….

V smiled at the thought of managing to reclaim a prize of that renown from the Chancellor.

No—no. Too impersonal.

It must be personal.

V shook his head as he continued to pace.

One…two…three…turn.

The large grandfather clock nestled in the corner of the Galley began to chime loudly, tearing him out of his thoughts if only momentarily.

3:00 am.

The cadence of the clock's bells stirred up something in V that suddenly made him feel impatient and almost angry as he continued to pace. He shouldn't have had time for indulging in such folly. Time had slowly been ticking down both metaphorically and literally since he had made his speech to the world hardly three months ago. He had his plan. There wasn't time for games—there wasn't time for feelings and emotions and—

Valentines?

V shook his head. He wouldn't let himself even think the thought that threatened to be pulled from the corner of his mind. There was not enough time for him to indulge in such wishes.

One…two…three….turn.

There was never enough time for V. But for her…

For Evey, he vowed he would make all the time in the world.

One…two…three…turn.

Once, of course, he figured out what to do about the ever looming day innocuously marked with a large red heart on the calendar in his room.

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A/N: Thanks for reading and remember to please, please, review! Next up, V gets an idea and Evey begins to get suspicious. Also, stay tuned for the V-centric companion piece to my last fic.