"Are you alright?" she asks worriedly as he coughs a few times before clearing his throat loudly.
"Yes, I'm quite fine, thank you," V assures her as he hurriedly stands up. "I'm going to change now. Leave the dishes; I'll take care of them."
"No, that's alright," she responds. "I don't mind doin' them. It gives me somethin' to do."
"Than I shall help you clean up after I get changed," he states. "I should be but a few minutes."
"That's alright, I can do it," she replies as she starts to pull storage containers out of a neatly arranged cupboard.
"I insist," he responds a bit forcefully as he starts towards the door. "It's the least I can do after that lovely meal."
"Alright, if you want," she says meekly as he leaves.
He returns a few minutes later in his normal attire, barely noticing the jukebox softly playing in the background. He finds that the food has been put away and she's starting to wash the dishes. Without a word, he picks up a towel and starts to dry. They stand there in companionable silence until the last of the dishes are dried and put away.
"Would you care to watch a movie with me?" he asks without preamble.
"I don't know," she answers nervously. "I feel like I should be doin' somethin'."
"Like what?" he inquires.
"Cleanin' or somethin'," she replies, starting to fidget.
"I can assure you that my home is quite clean," he states, a bit put out that she would think otherwise.
"What about the suit of armor?" she asks.
"Mondego is the exception to the rule," he responds as he starts to move towards the gallery.
"I just feel I need to do somethin'," she repeats, following.
"Why?" he questions, stopping just after he's exited the kitchen.
"To keep busy," she replies normally enough, but then her voice starts dropping to just above a whisper. "To earn my keep. Unless you want somethin' else from me."
"What would I require from you?" he asks, perplexed as she halts beside him.
"Personal services," she barely chokes out, staring at her feet in shame, her body trembling and audibly swallowing.
He stares at her in confusion, his mask giving away nothing as he watches her turn bright red and then comprehension dawns on him.
"I will never require the use of those talents from you," he assures her. "You are safe here from all manner of attacks on your person."
"Thank you," she sighs, her shoulders sagging with relief.
"You are quite welcome," he replies, a bit relieved himself that she's likely to be a little less jumpy around him. "Now about that movie…"
"The jukebox is still playin'," she points out.
"In that case, would you care to dance?" he inquires.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she answers, looking embarrassed again, but not ashamed.
"And why would that be?" he asks.
"Because as big and as strong and as fast as you are, I'm afraid your feet would be in danger," she admits. "I can't dance."
"Anyone with a sense of rhythm can dance," he states as he reaches for her hand. "And trust me when I say you have rhythm."
"Whether or not I have rhythm is beside the point," she replies as she pulls away from him. "I have two left feet and I'll just end up stompin' all over yours. One thing they tried to teach me was to dance and even their best dance teacher said I was hopeless."
"Did they also teach you to sing and play guitar?" he questions.
"No, Momma always said a proper young lady should be able to play some instrument so she made sure I had lessons growin' up," she answers with a sad smile. "The singin' was a bonus. Of course she also said that young ladies should know how to be graceful and dance. I'm about as graceful on the dance floor as a one legged man in a butt kickin' contest."
V chuckles and she smiles back at him, managing to briefly look up into the eyes of the mask for a few seconds. The smile under the mask nearly matches the one on it and he's actually glad to see the real woman hiding under all of that 'training' starting to emerge. He still has no clue to what he's going to do with her, but for now that will wait.
"Then I suppose we are back to watching a movie," he says a few moments later. "This song shouldn't last too much longer."
"I'm not so sure about that," she responds, looking a bit embarrassed again.
"And why is that?" he asks with a sigh.
"Well…" she hesitates, her cheeks turning bright pink. "This place is awfully quiet when you're not here and I get a bit…nervous when you're gone, so I decided to program the jukebox to play a few of the songs."
"How many of the songs?" he inquires.
"All of them," she mumbles.
"When did you do this?" he questions with an amused head tilt.
"Right before you came home," she admits, blushing even more.
"How many times have you done this?" he asks.
"Three times," she quietly answers. "Are you angry?"
"No, but it does seem we do have a bit of time on our hands," he replies. "But what shall we do with it?"
"Could you give me somethin' to do?" she asks hesitantly after about a minute. "I can't just sit around all day. I need somethin' to do or I'm sure I'll go out of my mind."
"Yes, perhaps a project would help keep you occupied," he agrees after a moment of thinking. "The problem is what is there for you to do? I do not require your services in cooking and cleaning, though I would not mind you taking up the reins in making dinner should I not be here. Let me think on it and I will let you know."
"Thank you," she sighs with relief. "I am curious about somethin'."
"Yes?" he asks.
"Where did you get all of these things?" she inquires, waving her hand around the gallery. "I may not have finished high school, but I do know that some of this stuff must be priceless. How can you afford all of this?"
"Ah, but I do not own these treasures," he answers, happy to talk about the pieces of artwork that decorate his home. "I am simply storing them until they can be returned to the people one day. Would you like me to tell you about them?"
"Yes, please," she replies with a smile.
For the next couple hours he shows her the wonders in his home, regaling her with stories of their history and how he came to have them. The time passes quickly as the jukebox plays on.
V checks in on Audrey several hours later and finds her peacefully sleeping like she was when he left, completely unaware that he's been gone for a couple hours. He has just returned from the pub after adding the surveillance equipment he needs to keep an eye on Percy and his men. Sooner or later, he's going to remove those miserable curs from this plane of existence, but for now he'll wait and watch. He is, after all, a very patient man.
After assuring himself that she's resting, he heads for his monitor room where he finishes the job he started. After making sure all the wiring is secure, he turns on the monitor and is rewarded with a view of a darkened room filled with tables and chairs. With a satisfied nod, he returns to his room, changes and then climbs into his own bed. Within moments Somnus lulls him into slumber and Morpheus weaves him dreams of dancing pork chops and knights in shining armor.
"Audrey," V says as he dries the last of the dishes and puts it away.
"Yes, V?" she responds as she rinses out the sink.
"I have a request," he states.
"Um…ok, what is it?" she asks a bit nervously.
"Would you do me the honor of playing a song for me?" he requests.
"Oh," she says, startled. "If you like, I guess I could play somethin'. I'm a little out of practice."
"Really?" he questions with a curious tilt to his head, slight amusement in his voice. "From what I've heard, you play very well."
"Oh, I make mistakes all over the place," she readily admits.
"If you do not wish to play, I will not force you," he assures her. "But I would very much like to hear you sing again. You have a very pleasant voice."
"Thank you," she blushes and pauses for a few moments. "When would you like me to play?"
"Would now be too soon?" he inquires.
"I guess not," she hesitantly replies.
"Good," he says with a decisive nod as he turns to leave. "Then I shall meet you in the TV room, shall I?"
"Yeah, I guess that'll do," she shyly agrees as he leaves the room. "I'll be there in a bit."
She stands there clinging to the edge of the sink, trying not to collapse in a heap since her knees have now taken to shaking and she's not sure that they can hold her up if she lets go. She tries to swallow but her mouth is too dry and it feels like there's about a million butterflies in her stomach trying to get out. She hasn't felt like this since right before her first recital when she was ten and thoughts of that unmitigated disaster do nothing to help calm her nerves.
She spends several minutes taking deep breaths in an attempt to stave off a panic attack and hyperventilating. She's not sure how much time has passed before she gets the courage up to let go of the sink and take a few tentative steps out of the room. When she doesn't immediately collapse, she gives a small sigh of relief and carefully makes her way to her room.
She retrieves her guitar and nervously makes her way to the TV room. The butterflies in her stomach seem to have multiplied and are currently bungee jumping in her stomach. She swallows the lump in her throat and sits at the other end of the couch from V, carefully placing her guitar case on the floor.
"I was beginning to wonder if you had changed your mind," he states, not unkindly.
"It's been a very long time since I've played in front of an audience," she replies nervously as she opens the case. "I guess I'm just a bit jittery."
"You don't have to play if you don't wish," he reminds her while she pulls the guitar onto her lap. "I will not force you."
"No, that's ok, I don't mind," she hastily responds as she starts to tune it. "If this is what you want me to do, then I'll do it. It's the least I can do. Is there anythin' in particular you want to hear?"
"What songs do you know?" he asks, fascinated as she carefully tunes the instrument.
"I know a lot of songs, but only a few by heart," she answers while she concentrates on tweaking a particular tuning peg.
"Then, if you wouldn't mind, please play me one of later," he requests as she strums a few cords and makes a few more adjustments.
She plays a few more notes as she's thinking, making final adjustments, almost thoughtlessly. She casts one last glance at V and then slightly readjusts the guitar in her lap and then starts to play a quiet, gentle tune. As she concentrates on her music and playing, the butterflies calm, her mouth moistens itself and her nerves calm. After a few bars, her courage gathered, she opens her mouth and sings.
Imagine there's no
heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only
sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Imagine
there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die
for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life
in peace...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only
one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as
one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need
for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the
people
Sharing all the world...
You may say I'm a
dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join
us
And the world will live as one
As the final notes fade away, V raises his hands and claps in appreciation for the mini concert she's given him. She bows her head humbly and smiles shyly, obviously pleased that he enjoyed her performance. She mindlessly continues strumming the guitar, unable to think of what to do next.
"I saw that you have some sheet music in your case," he says, startling her out of her mindless wanderings. "May I see them?"
"Oh, sure," she agrees as she reaches into the case and pulls out the sheets, handing them over to him.
"I see you have them alphabetically arranged," he notes after looking through the half a dozen pieces of music.
"It's somethin' I've learned to do since I became a…," she starts, hesitant to finish. "It helped me."
"How did it help you?" he inquires as he hands the music back.
"It was one of the few things I had control over in my life," she explains while she neatly puts the sheets back in the case. "As a bonus, Michael liked it, so as long as everythin' remained neat and organized, I didn't have to be taught a lesson."
"Namely another beating," he clarifies.
"Right," she quietly replies and he can see she's starting to get fidgety again.
"How did you get the guitar?" he questions. "I can't imagine the major would just let you go out and buy one and you did state that he didn't know you had it."
"Every once and a while I would be allowed to go to Ruth's with the boys without Michael taggin' along," she softly answers, her fingers aimlessly strumming across the strings. "Ruth and I would sit up late into the night and she would ask me questions and I would write out my answers on a piece of binder paper. I let it slip one time that I play and I missed it. About a week after that, Ruth showed up on our doorstep sayin' that they needed money because one of their appliances had broken and they didn't have the money to fix it or replace it. Michael was always grumblin' about how he was supportin' two families since every time Ruth and her husband needed money they came to us and what a failure Ruth's husband is. But he gave them the money and then completely forgot about it. A few weeks later, Ruth showed up again in the middle of the day when she should have been at work. She had lied to Michael about the appliance and had used the money to buy me a guitar. She had no reason to and if Michael ever found out it would be my hide and her head, but she did it anyways. Over time, she bought me the sheets of music, too. I don't know why she did it. I'm not her sister and by all rights she should hate me, but here she was riskin' her own neck for me. I still don't understand why she did it."
"Perhaps she felt that you had suffered enough and that her scorn would serve no purpose," he suggests.
"I guess that's possible," she sighs. "I've seen so much hate in this world it really surprises me when someone does somethin' so kind."
They sit there for a while; neither of them talking as she randomly plays bits and pieces of different songs. He watches her fingers in fascination as they play across the strings like dancers on a stage, each knowing its place and rarely making a faltering step. He looks down at his own hands and balls his hands into fists, causing the leather of his gloves to creak in protest. He realizes that he would never be able to play such an instrument, at least not when someone else is around since the gloves would only get in the way of playing and he is not about to display his hands to others. With a small frustrated puff of air, he looks back up first at her and then down at the sheets of music in the case.
"Audrey," he says, startling her out of her playing so badly that her fingers make a discordant sound causing them both to flinch. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."
"That's ok," she assures him. "What do you want?"
"You stated last night that you would like to have a project to do," he states as a plan quickly forms in his head. "Are you still willing to help me?"
"Yes, of course I am," she eagerly replies. "What is it?"
"Why don't you put your guitar away and then meet me in the art storage room," he instructs as he gracefully gets to his feet.
"Alright," she agrees, giving him a questioning look.
He turns and walks away without further explanation and she's left quickly taking the guitar out of tune before returning it to its case. She hurriedly stores the instrument back in her room before heading down the hall to the room she had been instructed to meet him in. She walks in not sure what she'll find, but she certainly wasn't expecting what she sees when she walks in the door.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Imagine, lyrics and music written by John Lennon.
Author's Notes: Well what do you know? I'm still alive! I tell you this school being out thing is totally putting a cramp on my writing. At any rate, please leave a review and I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.