Disclaimer: Of the many people who seem to have a claim on "V for Vendetta" I am not one of them.
Author's Notes: I wrote this quite a while ago, not long after I first saw the movie in theaters (and, yes, this is movie!fic, not comic- I know, for shame). It actually started with Infinite Jest, because Dietrich's my favorite character. But then a few more vignettes were spawned, so I decided to put them in chronological order movie!cannon-wise. Anyway, happy November fifth, everybody!
Reclamation
The masked man couldn't restrain a light, almost giddy chuckle as he surveyed his gloomy surroundings. The Ministry of Objectionable Materials, Vault A... It had taken some doing, but he was here, and he was going to enjoy himself. Again he gazed around the space, delighting in every new treasure from bygone Golden Ages his eyes landed on. How he wished he could rescue them all! Each one called to him like a damsel in distress, he their knight in shining armor- or a black cape and Guy Fawkes mask, as it were. But there was only so much space in the underground chambers of the Shadow Gallery. V was glad he'd gotten here fairly early in the night; he was going to have some difficult choices to make before it was through...
A hum of electricity caught V's sensitive ears. He glanced at the shadowy ceiling, looking for a light switched on by a curious security guard. The only light he spotted most definitely did not come from a government-issue florescent tube. Its softness was a clue, as was the direction of its source. Sticking to the shadows, V crept around a corner far enough to spy a man in a jumpsuit, mop handle in his hand connected to a bucket of soapy water, bent over an antique jukebox from which the light emanated.
"Come on, come on, come on," the janitor murmured gently to the machine as he scanned its selection, "Ah ha! Bingo..." He turned away from the jukebox and began his work, nodding his head to the beat of forbidden music and taking the mop handle in both hands to strum out the introduction. Disappointed as V was in himself for not spotting the late-night janitor earlier (if he wanted to make anything of the plans cooking in his brain, he'd have to get better at this whole man of the shadows thing), V couldn't help smiling at the janitor, this quiet renegade. He settled down to wait out the man's shift. Then he would make his first reclamation from the censor. V suppressed the guilt he felt for what he was about to do- somehow he felt the janitor would understand. And the Gallery would feel much less empty when it was filled with music... Back in black, I hit the sack, I've been too long and I'm glad to be back. Yes, I'm- let loose- from the noose- that's kept me hangin' about...
Closer
Evey swallowed and shivered at the sound of the electric shaver she held in her hand, but she let its buzz fill the room. She wasn't ready to let go of her experience in V's torture chamber. Horrible as it was, it gave her strength. So when she noticed the fringe of hair that covered her scalp, she'd asked V for the shaver. He didn't ask why, and she didn't tell him. She didn't think V would deny her much of anything now, after what he'd done, assuming his guilt was genuine. Come to think of it, Evey was getting a little tired of his tiptoeing around the Gallery on egg shells while she recuperated. She'd have to do something about that. But not now, now she had a job to do. After clipping the new growth as short as she could with a pair of scissors, she let the shaver do the rest, until her scalp was as bare as it had been when she sat in that chair clothed in an orange sack, weeping like a child. She gave herself one long look in the bathroom mirror before emerging to find V standing a few feet away.
"Your hair," he blurted out, "I... I thought you would let it grow back."
"Not yet," she replied curtly. A pang of sympathy shot through her as V studied his feet. If she wanted the old V back, she knew now was the time to start. "Having no hair, it makes me feel closer to how I felt on the roof. I've never felt like that before."
He looked up and said, "And you never will again- trust me."
Infinite Jest
V came upon Evey lying curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the flashy images flitting across the television screen. He joined her and waited in silence for her to speak. It didn't take long. "I remember, before they took him away, I asked Gordon- God, probably the exact question he'd heard a million times before..."
"What was it?"
"'Is everything a joke to you?' I asked. And he said- what did he say? He said, 'Only the things that matter,' I think. I can't stop thinking about that now. It's not a bad philosophy, is it?"
"No, it's not, if you can get away with it. Mr. Deitrich sounds a wise fellow; I should like to have met him."
"You two would get right on, I know it. He was... he was a fellow of infinite jest." Evey heard V smile in the faint breath emitted from his mask and saw it in the downward tilt of his head. She could do things like that now. She wondered if he knew she could read him so well, what he would say if she told him.
"A fellow of infinite jest, eh?"
"Yes. He bore me on his back just the one time, and it got him black-bagged and killed."
"I doubt he would have changed a thing."
Charity
The domino, it was the last thing she had to give. For the thousandth time, Evey wondered if she was doing the right thing. For the thousandth time, she told herself she was. What did V expect her to do with the contents of the Shadow Gallery? Live amongst it like he did? No. All the paintings and sculptures and books and posters, beautiful though they were, would have suffocated her over time. She was not V. And it was safe now- well, safer anyway. All the treasures of the Gallery could come out of hiding. With the help of Mr. Finch, they would all find good homes in the newly reopened museums of England, every last one. Including the domino set, the last remaining piece of which she held in her hand. To give or not to give. How much would they miss just one little piece? How long did she want to hang on to this artifact from her time with V? What would V do? All the time she'd spent with him, more time than any other person, and she still couldn't answer that question in the slightest.