Author's Notes: Thank you all for your encouragement! You reviewers make me so happy! It appears there are around 190 readers according to my stats which is wonderful, but only a couple handful are telling me their opinions. Oh well, I can't really ask for much.

So anyway this chapter is somewhat slow in one sense, you all can figure out what that means if it even is by your standards, but on the other hand it is a longer chapter.

Please review!

Chapter 5

Evey had finally gotten up off the floor and after a discussion with V tried to prepare her mind for the grim work ahead. They couldn't wait any longer, they had to remove what bullets they could today. Already some of the wounds, despite the alcohol, were becoming infected where the bullets were still lodged in and oozed a sickly yellow puss.

The young woman had entertained the thought of first getting some food into their stomachs but thought better of it. After all it would probably be only a waste since she had a sickening suspicion that she would only vomit it up later after helping V remove shrapnel from deep within his infected flesh.

"Where do you want to do this V?" Evey finally asked after having gathered all the needed supplies on the kitchen table. Light nauseatingly glinted off of the sterile, sharp metal instruments on their tray.

The masked man looked up from studying the various equipment from his chair, the bright kitchen lights creating a jovial expression despite the heavy knowledge that rested upon the occupants. "We can do it right here," he quietly replied, his answer sounded as would a judge passing a sentence to Evey's ears.

"Oh, alright then," she responded, a bit surprised, "Um, so what do I do?"

They removed V's pajama top, she unbuttoning it and he shrugging it off painfully. She started wringing her hands unconsciously then stopped herself when she noticed and listened to V's instructions.

"Go wash your hands with iodine and soap. You will need with your hands up and let the water run down to your elbows so that any dirt and germs you may have-"

"Will run down away from my fingers and hands that I will need to touch your wounds with," Evey finished for him as she turned to the sink and began to wash up. V nodded, pleased with her deduction.

"But of course you will still be using surgical gloves and they, hopefully, will not break," V provided, "Keep your hands up and come over here."

Hands still wet she did as instructed and came to V who stiffly held a surgical glove open for her to slip her hand up into with a snap and then covered the other.

He had her pull up the other chair so that she faced his left side. They were going to start on his arms first since they can do that while he was sitting up. The tray of medical instruments were set next to her on the table as were gauze pads, bandages, and iodine. What she was attempting to do would be best suited at at least a sterile clinic, quite incongruent to a homey kitchen. But then again this is the kitchen of the infamous terrorist V.

"Fear not, this shouldn't be too difficult since my body has already started to push the bullets out. It will be more like pulling them out rather than digging them out," he reassured Evey cheerfully.

Unfortunately it did little to ease her. She stared at his wrapped arm and pulled out the blunt ended shears that were made for the purpose of removing bandages and proceeded to cut off the gauze. The gauze patches the bandages had held down stuck to the various wounds, blood and puss having soaked through their centers. Evey carefully removed them, wincing at how the gauze fibers stuck and pulled at the scabbing edges of the bullet wounds, pulling up some skin then a jagged piece of scab lifting up and off. She finished pulling them off and tried to prepare herself for the real work.

"Start with the wounds from the top of my arm then work your way down. You will need to clean the area with the iodine after pulling each one out," V instructed from behind the mask, it's white visage trained on her face, "By the feel of it I think you will mostly be using those tweezers for the ones in my arms. Flush out some of the discharge with the water. Hopefully you will be able to see the bullets."

"Okay," Evey answered with a visible gulp of her dry throat.

She picked up the clear squeeze bottle with the angled and narrow-tipped nozzle and began squirting out the discharge of the hole in his triceps. Sure enough she could see the dull gray of what could only be a bullet in the angry flesh surrounding it and picked up the long surgical tweezers. With trepidation she brought the instrument close to his shoulder and with a nod from the masked man brought it to his flesh and into the open wound. The young woman was already beginning to feel nauseous, fortunately for Evey and V her stomach was empty. She held back her gag reflex and opened up the tweezers, knowing it would have to touch the sides of the wound to encompass the foreign object.

V's arm spasmed when the tweezers dug in to gain purchase around the intruding bullet and before she knew she was thinking it he quickly pushed through probably clenched teeth, "Don't pull out, you have to do it regardless of my pain!"

Her eyes pricked and watered at the obvious pain she caused him, but she pushed on and finally dislodged the bullet, pulling it out. V's shoulders fell slightly, tension released, but knew truly that only more was to come. Evey stared at the bloody bullet, not believing that such a small thing was the cause of so much pain and misery, so many deaths.

"I do hope you have some skills of a seamstress."

Evey looked up at her companion grimly and nodded. This would be a long day for the both of them.

Evey didn't know how many hours she had spent on V's arms, but even a minute seemed too long to see him in pain. Sweat trickled down from patches of skin that had not been entirely burned off such as part of his underarms, a scrap on his chest, and from the trickle of sweat that seemed to come down from his neck perhaps a bit from under his jaw.

She had dug out all the bullets in his arms, some she had to cut the wound wider under his direction in order to do so since his body had not been able to work them all loose unfortunately. She had cleansed and then stitched up all of them. She felt clammy and knew she had to be very pale. One would wonder which it was that had had bullets removed from them with no painkillers.

"My dearest Evey, you certainly look a fright. Perhaps you need to lay down a bit. We can wait to get the ones in my body another time," V finally said, seemingly recovered and now very concerned for his young attendant. She looked almost worse than when she had been his prisoner if that was possible. Evey was staring down at the floor, seeing all the blood and iodine that had dripped down onto it and knowing that she would need to clean it up. The bright kitchen light was making her feel worse, but she needed to at least clean herself up before she went to rest.

As she motioned to get up and to pick up the tray of medical instruments that were too close to looking like devices of torture V interrupted her, "Do not worry about that, just clean yourself up. I am quite grateful of your great service to me and my arms will heal much quicker no doubt."

"But V-"

"No buts," he interrupted sternly, "Now off you go."

Evey stared at him blankly, unbelievably. She made no motion to rise from her chair, or do anything for that matter. V lifted his bare hands and started removing her bloodied surgical gloves from her shaking hands, rolling them off so they became inside out then put them in the little waste receptacle that they had also placed the bullets in. She finally reacted and leaned in, picking up his large left hand with both her small ones, stroking the blotchy palm, his fingers curling in reflexively. His senses thrilled at the light caresses to his hand. She sighed and looked up at him, her face's color improved slightly, but still pale. There was a look in her eyes as if she had made a decision and oh how he wished he was privy to her thoughts. He watched her as she stood up from her chair, releasing his hand she leaned in and gave his mask a light kiss on the cheek with a twitch of a smile on her mouth. How he wished it were his face. He continued to watch her as she walked off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Time to clean up," he spoke to himself cheerfully, the painful throbbing in points throughout his body almost forgotten for the moment.

Evey came out of the steamy bathroom, feeling much better after a hot shower. One thing she had to admit about her haircut was that it was time saving in the shower. She stepped out and looked over at the kitchen, expecting to see V and while she did see him she was not expecting to see the kitchen spotless, appearing to not have ever held their operation on his arms, and he was cooking, wearing that ridiculous frilly apron over his pajamas.

"V, you shouldn't be cooking and you didn't need to clean everything up!" Evey exclaimed worriedly, a note of exasperation in her voice.

That smiling mask turned to her from the cutting board, head tilted he responded almost jovially, "There, there sweet Evey, no need to trouble yourself with that."

"It's not me troubling with anything but you! You should be resting, we haven't even finished taking the bullets out of your body!"

At this he wiped his hands on a hand towel, "Actually I have already tended to my other wounds for the most part, although I need some of your assistance for a couple stray ones in my sides."

Evey just stared at him, unbelieving, then heaving a great sigh and slumping her shoulders, all the fight left her. She gave him an ironic smile, "Of course V."