The Hat
Of all of his vigilante attire, this is the piece she understands the least. The black fedora hat. Evey picks it up and twirls it between her fingers. It is the only thing he wears that doesn't seem to have any sort of purpose to it.
Even the cape, frivolous as it seems, serves to distract his adversaries from his fighting with the way it swishes and twirls as he moves. It is a slight advantage, but one that he uses none the less. Or at least, that was what V had told her when she had asked why he even bothered with the cape.
Evey studies the hat intensely. Maybe it helps to keep his wig on his head as he fights. She suppresses a smile at the image of V's hair falling off as he fights some nameless villain. No, that can't be it. His hair stays on quite securely whenever he fights his 'fat metal friend'. The image of the frightening figure playing with a suit of armor succeeds in making her smile. Boys and their toys.
So what is the point of the hat? To make V look taller, or even more menacing? Evey places it on her head and looks in a mirror. Hmmm… She tilts the brim towards her eyes. Hmmm…
VvV Later that day VvV
Footsteps echo as V strides around the Shadow Gallery. It has been a few nights since he has last gone out, and he feels it is high time that he roam the streets again. First, he would wander a bit simply to enjoy watching the people enjoy their newly reclaimed freedoms. Then, he would have to stop off at a couple of pubs. It is amazing how many political conversations one can hear by simply lurking around the pubs. Granted, some of said conversation could be rather slurred at times…
But going out feels so wrong without his hat. The hat isn't strictly necessary, so to speak, but it just feels so right, as if it completes his whole outfit. Perhaps he is a bit silly in thinking that. But still…
It isn't in its usual spot by his vanity, and that irks him even further. He is usually very fastidious about putting things where they belong. A search of his home fails to uncover the renegade hat. There is only one thing for it.
V stands outside of Evey's room and knocks gently on the door. She calls for him to come in. His head is lowered as he grasps the doorknob and opens the door. "Evey, darling, I can't seem to find my hat. Have you happened to..." Silence. His beautiful Evey is stretched out on the bed, looking at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. Oh. There it is. V's heart pounds, his mouth goes dry. She is wearing his hat… and absolutely nothing else.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, though it is clear she is not. "Were you planning on going out?" Evey sits up on the bed and curls her knees to her chest. Tease, he thinks lovingly.
"I had considered it, mademoiselle," he confesses. "But I have no pressing reason for doing so. Besides," he removes his cape and walks towards the bed, "it would be unforgivably rude of me to go out and leave such a stunning beauty as yourself alone, with only books and art for company."
"Yes, it would." Evey smiles in anticipation as he sits down beside her on the bed.
VvV Later that night VvV
Evey sighs as she curls up against V and runs a hand over his chest. He had remained fully clothed throughout the evening (with the exception of his gloves), but the couple is still fully satiated. At long last, Evey understands the point of adding the black fedora hat to V's vigilante outfit. It's just plain sexy.
Author's note: Yes, I skipped over the good bits. I don't know how to write graphic sex scenes, so it wouldn't come out very good. I guess I shall have to do some research (evil grin). Besides, I'm thinking of being a bit more daring when I write about the gloves. That'll be a while off, as I'm concentrating on writing "What Truths the Light May Show" and "Les couleurs de la mort", a French fanfic (which is very hard for me).
Thanks for all the nifty reviews.