Adagio

Chapter 14

Rated NC 17 for sexual situations


Evey

"You are not pregnant, Evey."

Evey wished he would turn around, for his voice contained a sound she had never heard before. Never had she wanted to see his eyes more than at this instant. She took his hand and turned him slowly. He came around; the mask dipped low to his chest so that it did not seem to grin so widely. Evey squeezed his glove. Then carefully, for though she must ask this question, the answer was bound to be fraught with something unpleasant when he sounded so sad.

"How can you know?"

"I know."

"Is it…something about Larkhill?"

"Yes."

"Is it…are you…"

"I'll not play Twenty Questions with you, Eve. Please. What they did to me there, I can never have any children. Ever. They poisoned me, Eve, among other things. They took fatherhood from me as well as everything else."

Evey stepped up and put her arms around him, straightened the silk robe around his shoulders. She smoothed the silk as though she could also smooth his words and make them easier for him.

"And you know this for certain?" She realized that instead of being relieved to find out she was not pregnant, she felt empty and bereft. I thought I was frightened to carry his child. But now I feel only disappointment that I never will.

"I am …painfully certain." Evey cringed at the choking sound he made in his throat. He continued, "I would never have made love to you and exposed you to danger of any kind. It is my fault I have not told you before now. I have known about my sterility for so long that it is a part of me I do not think about anymore. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner." Evey could very well imagine why he did not think about it.

He took a step back, put his hands on her shoulders and bent the mask to her face.

"You can rest assured; you do not carry a monster in your womb."

One hand slid down from her shoulder, and a gloved finger caressed her softly across her heart down to just below her belly button. Evey followed it with her eyes.

"Monster," she echoed. "No. No," though she knew that's what she had feared. Now she knew he thought so too.

"It's for the best." He whispered so softly she barely heard the words.

Maybe he wanted children. He's thinking about Larkhill. I can tell by the catch in his breath. Concerned, she took the hand away, tried to lead him out of the surveillance room. "Let's go. You are tired and haven't slept in nearly twenty hours. Let me put you to bed."

"Yes. I am very tired," he sounded distant, but he followed her obediently, almost docile now. Evey kept looking at him as she took him up the stairs to the bedroom, but there were no clues in his face, nor his posture, and he was not making any sounds at all. She squeezed his hand, but he did not squeeze back.

She led him to the bed and sat him down. He allowed her to position him anyway she wanted. "We will talk tomorrow. Tonight you sleep. Just sleep. We are both exhausted." She pulled back the blankets and plumped up the pillow. "Lie down, V. I'll do the security sweep and come back up. She tugged at his sash, but he caught her hand.

"I do not need to be tucked in."

She looked at him with surprise. Evey smiled at him, then kissed the top of his head. "Of course you don't." She left him there and began the nightly sweep of the Gallery, checking the locks on the outer doors, looking at the monitors, making sure the computer was running properly. He trusts me now with his Gallery. The enormity of the realization struck her. I have achieved 'second billing'. The warmth of his trust was a testament to his love. She locked it all down tight and with a final look around the halls, joined him.

She awoke in the dark. That means he is still here. Carefully she snaked a hand to his side of the bed. Her hand felt his warm presence before it touched the silk of his robe. Evey stopped; afraid she might wake him with a touch. Still here. Her eyes flicked up to the digital clock across the room. The red numbers told her it was after five. AM or PM? She wondered, squinting to see the little red dot. AM. Good. I have officially awakened before he has. She felt a little giddy. I can make his breakfast this time. She thought about it, but decided she was enjoying lying there next to him too much. Besides, if I move even a muscle he will wake up. She knew. She listened to him in the dark, breathing slowly and deeply. Sleeping. She risked waking him by scooting a little closer. Good. Safe. The sounds of his breathing did not change. Closer. Now her body was almost touching his back, for he lay on his side, facing away from her. She lifted her head and brought it down on his pillow, oh so slowly. He did not move, did not stir.

Evey breathed him in, his scent so comforting, his warmth like a promise. The long hair of the wig lay on his pillow, tickling her cheek. She put her nose in it, enjoying having him home, waking up with him. It had been days since this had happened. He was always so busy now. Gone when she wakes, coming home hours later. She might see him on the monitors, tending to his train. Sometimes she would see a black flash on the screens, hear a blip that the perimeter had been breached. It was V. Once he waved at the camera. She smiled into his hair, remembering. Perhaps this is like his weekend. Perhaps today he will not go out at all.

She sighed with happiness, and then heard him catch his breath. Oh. I've awakened him. Shit. He rolled over, the hair sliding out from under her cheek, but his arms gathered her to him instead. Much nicer. She felt his lips on her cheek now, better than the hair. She smiled and hugged him back.

"Good morning," he rumbled in her ear.

"Good morning," she kissed at him in the darkness, hoping to contact his face, but getting his ear instead. He laughed softly and she thrilled to hear it. It had been so long since she had heard him make a happy sound.

Evey held him tightly, "Are you staying home today?" she asked hopefully.

"I wasn't planning on it. I have so much to do. I have to…" he stopped. "But you don't want to hear it, do you?"

"I only wanted to hear that you were staying home," she allowed herself to sound disappointed. "But you can tell me if you want."

There was a long pause. Evey sighed again. Not so happily this time. She kissed at him, caught his cheek. Encouraged, she scooted closer, kissed him again. She felt the smoothness of his scarred face, no stubble, no beard, just the softness of the uneven surface. She inhaled him, kissed him again. "I love you so much. I want to hold you forever," she whispered.

He groaned, squeezed her tighter, tucked her head under his chin and stroked her hair. "Oh, Eve," he answered softly, for her ear was on his throat, "What bliss that would be. What a lovely dream." He paused, squeezed her again, "but it is time to wake up."

"No. Don't make me," she laughed.

"Eve. Denial of the truth…the inevitability…the reality…you are fooling yourself…and by doing that, you cause me more pain than I can say."

Evey lifted her head from the pillow. She stared down at him as though she could see through the absolute darkness to his face, to his eyes. "You're not talking about breakfast, are you." She heard him clear his throat. "God, V. Can't we have even a little respite? You are always so heavy. Let's just wake up and have breakfast, damn it."

This time he laughed heartily and long. Eve pinched him on his arm before rolling out of bed. "Get your mask, Kafka, and come out. I'm putting the kettle on."

Breakfast was not heavy. Evey ate her toast and eggs and laughed while he told her stories about going topside for supplies. He turned his back and slid the mask over the top of his head and ate his toast and eggs while she told him funny stories from the dormitory in the Juvie House. Life there was hard, but a room full of teenage girls will spawn any number of incidents worthy of a laugh or two. The tea was consumed, the plates washed and put away. Then Evey watched as he finished his preparations, getting ready to go out.

"Come with me this time, Eve." He said to her as he fastened the knife belt and reached for his cloak. "You can help carry the gelignite if you like. I can get done in half the time and we can have a nice supper. Would you like that?"

"Yes, of course! I'll be ready in a moment."

After Evey carried down her third load of gelignite she was glad to take a break. She sat on the floor of the train, watching V do…something. Whatever. There was not a space to sit down except right in the aisle behind him. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Near the control panel there was an empty bench that was not covered with explosives. That six feet of space was the only place on the train not packed with dangerous chemicals, but he had asked her not to sit there. She wasn't about to ask him why.

The gelignite was not especially heavy, but going up and down the stairs was tiring. She was glad for the break, and she enjoyed the view from the floor. V would turn, lift a brick of explosive, then turn and place it carefully. Then he would slip a wire in and clip it with his cutters. She watched him do this maybe thirty times, always the same motions, always slow and steady and smooth.

She very much liked when he bent down. She watched the muscles of his hindquarters tense and relax. The fabric of his trousers pulled tight when he bent over, allowing her to see the muscles move beneath it. The doublet was pleated there, and with every motion the tails would spread apart and reveal the thinner fabric beneath that covered his hips and thighs. Every four or five bends he would straighten and reach for another tool. That's when she could admire his shoulders and strong back. She loved the way the glossy hair of the wig slid back and forth across the raised pattern of the fabric. The grace and poise with which he moved produced a delicious stirring in her, she shifted on the floor, smiling. She remembered how the same muscles that were right now turning a subway train into a gigantic bomb could also grip her tightly and apply so much pleasure to her body. She looked up and down the aisle of the long train. The train was so much like a penis, hard and full of explosives…inside a dark tunnel…she covered her mouth so he would not hear her little snicker.

She widened her eyes for a moment as he bent all the way down to pick up a wire he dropped. That was too much. In that position the thin fabric of the trousers revealed a slight bulge between his legs. Twin bulges, actually. Evey put a hand over her eyes. He's working. I can't be thinking this. Now that the fear of pregnancy was gone, she found she wanted him with a passion. Being inside this hard train and watching him bend over and over and over again makes me crazy. The urgency she was picking up from his recent conduct set off a feeling of almost desperation. He is making me think that time is running out, but it's just the calendar, isn't it? It's just that the Fifth is coming. The big day. After that we will have all the time in the world. She did not want to wait. She imagined running her hands down the curve of his buttocks and feeling for that bulge she just saw. But the bulge was gone now; he was down on one knee reaching under the bench. The doublet now concealed his hips like a jealous lover. If he knew what I was thinking right now he would never let me help him again. She turned her head to hide her smirk, just in case he looked around. She saw that there were only three packages of gelignite left to place. He's almost finished. I'll jump him then.

When the last package had been wired, he stayed low in his crouch, but bounced on his heels just enough to turn his shoulders in the narrow aisle and look at her. "Finished," he said.

"Good." Evey stood up and approached him while he was still on the floor of the train. Always, always she was looking up at him. Now she looked down on the top of his head, and enjoyed the sight of him looking up at her. He hummed a little. She interpreted that to mean he was glad to be finished for the day. Or perhaps he was enjoying his new angle as well. Ever since he had made his opinion of her undergarments known, Evey had stopped wearing her bras. From below, he was probably getting quite a view under her blouse. He made a move to get up, but she stopped him with her hand.

"No, I'm not ready to go yet."

"No?"

"I think this train needs to be christened."

He laughed. "I have named this train. She already has a name."

Evey beamed. "I figured as much. Let me guess." She thought for only a moment. Of course. "Valerie. This train is named Valerie, isn't she?"

"Ah. She is."

"And the piano?"

"I'm afraid I never named the piano."

"Yet the piano has been christened. We will have to remedy this."

He laughed again and circled her legs with his arm, pulling her to him. "Aren't you afraid? Among all these explosives? Not all of it is as safe as the gelignite."

"No. I trust you. Besides, it's that very attribute that is making me feel…like naming something."

She let him stand up and take her hand. He looked up and down the aisle, the mask stopped at the empty bench. Evey saw him look and pulled him toward it. "Come," she said to him.

"Not there." His voice held a warning.

"Why not?" It's the only empty space on this train. And it's just about the right size. Evey wasn't looking forward to the hard plastic surface, but she knew that after the first few bumps she would forget about everything beneath her back.

"Nooooo," he said, blowing his breath out slowly, "I'd rather not." He looked around, changed direction and pulled her towards the back of the train. "There's a space here where the detonator will go."

"Oh, I like how you said 'detonator'. Say it again," she teased, following along with him.

"Detonator," he drew the word out long and slow. He placed her on a low shelf against the window at the rear of the train and put his gloves on her shoulders, then her breasts. He bent his head over her ear and hummed to her as she reached between his legs. "Hmmm," he said, as she fondled him through his trousers.

He responded immediately to her touch, springing to life, his firmness pulling the fabric tight across his fly. Evey unbuckled the knife belt and let it fall to the floor, the metal contents clanking and ringing against the steel grate that covered the floor of the train. He braced himself with both arms against the rear window, one on either side of her head. She fumbled for his zipper, released his trousers and let them fall over the tops of his high boots. She gasped, for the expected silkies were not there. That would explain those twin bulges earlier. He must have heard her surprise for he said, "I noticed you did not put on your bra today. I guessed you might enjoy loading a train like a canon, filling it with explosives, and perhaps detonating it."

Evey made a delighted sound as she reached for her prey, laughing at his little joke, like a canon indeed. With one hand she took him and with the other she captured his nether cheek, pulling his hips to her face. "I think I will enjoy detonating it more than anything else," she said right before she leaned forward to take him past her lips.

He stiffened even more, and breathed out such a sigh of pleasure that Evey made herself comfortable on the low shelf. She had intended to merely make him crazy with lust, but hearing him sigh was like a challenge. She would be in this to the end, however long that might be. She wanted to hear what other kinds of noises she could elicit from him.

She started slow, with just a back and forth motion to get him used to the exposure and the position. One hand guided him in and out, the other on his rump told him how far and how deep she was prepared to go. He responded well to her cues and soon they had created a rhythm that generated heavy breathing from behind the mask. Evey listened carefully, pausing when he seemed to be peaking, removing him from her mouth if he started to vocalize. When the danger had passed, she resumed, slower each time, and more careful for she knew that with each peak she was bringing him closer and closer, and she wasn't ready for the big finish. Not yet. Detonation would not be by accident, but instead a carefully timed event. Her own tiny canon was screaming to be loaded. Evey squeezed her legs together to try to hush its cries. Not yet, I will tend to your needs later, she told it, but its tears of desire were soaking her jeans, its sobs were making her grind her body into the shelf. Once she even had to take her mouth from him and pant, for listening to his moans threatened to send her over the edge prematurely. She had to stop, for his thrusts had become too desperate and they both were in danger of premature detonation. When she pulled her mouth away, he cried out, gasping.

"Don't stop…"

"I won't, "she lied, stopping. "I have to have a minute to breathe."

"Ahhh," he shuddered, his hips reached for her lips, he sucked in his breath loudly, suffering.

Evey felt she had enough air and took him again, but he surprised her by lifting her up and carrying her the few feet to the six feet of empty bench.

"I thought you said you didn't want to do it here," she said.

"I've changed my mind." He laid her down and lifted her knees. Her shoes and jeans disappeared; she heard the soft thump thump as they landed in a heap on the floor. One arm he placed on the bench to brace himself, the other he kept behind her back to steer her into him. Evey arched as he entered her. Not slowly, not gently, but with all the desperation she had been generating in him with her mouth. I wanted to set off the explosion, myself, she thought sadly. Her disappointment disintegrated, though, as his hardness touched her deep inside and the first wave of satisfaction began to grow inside her. With every thrust she felt her own little canon loaded a little bit higher, a little bit more fully packed. Her head banged rhythmically against the bench, his breathing was coming in rapid grunts and growls in sync with his thrusts. He was ready and her soft insides knew it.

Faster and faster he pumped until she had to close her eyes, hoping she would come first. All those vain thoughts of controlling him were gone. He had her; he was going to take her. Already he was louder and louder, his groans and rapid breathing coming from behind the mask high above her head. She felt the crest of her pleasure as her canon fired. She squealed and kicked, but he held her tightly against the bench. He heard her cries and responded by lifting her hips with his arms and driving deeper, deep enough to hurt her had he kept it up longer. He shuddered once, thrust again and kept himself pressed hard against her pelvis. She felt the pulsing of his pleasure, heard him come down, panting from the exertion. He twitched again. Clutched her hips to him.

"Kaboom," she whispered, making him chuckle as he exhaled loudly.

He bent the mask to look at her, smoothed her short curls from her forehead. "I love you, Eve. Remember that."

Evey smiled up at him, reaching for the hair that dangled almost in her face. "I will never forget." He began to withdraw, Evey felt a rush of fluids follow him out and dribble onto the plastic bench under her hips. "This train is now christened," she said to him.

"Verily," he answered, a smile evident in his voice.

Just then they both heard a blip and a double beep from V's equipment.

He staggered back, one hand pulled his trousers up while the other reached for the little electronic box that lay on the train's control panel. "Security breach," he said shortly, "And it's not us. Someone's coming. Get dressed, hurry, and get back to the Gallery. Fast, Eve. No one goes in the Gallery. No one. Do you understand?" The little black box began beeping louder, insistent. V flipped it off and picked up the knife belt.

"How do I stop them?" Evey struggled with her jeans, sliding them on and snapping them shut.

"Lock everything down and hide in the lab. The Lab has a blast door that still has its locks and it is three solid inches of steel. I will make sure no one gets close to the entry. Run, Eve, and lock it all up tight." He was gone. Evey didn't even see him go. He was there, and then he was gone. She blinked.