Audrey isn't sure what to expect to see when she walks into the art storage room, but V's backside sticking out from under an antique desk isn't even on the list. She stares in shock at the well shaped body part, not sure what to make of the situation while a small part in the back of her brain is admiring the view. Before the rest of her mind can catch up with what that little corner is doing, V crawls out from under the desk and stands.

"Ah, good, you've arrived," he states as he brushes himself off and then waves her towards him. "I am almost done and once I've completed my task, you may begin yours."

"Ok," she replies hesitantly as she approaches him. "What do you want me to do?"

"I would like you to catalog all of the artwork I've recovered," he tells her as reaches inside of a box and pulls out a flat screen computer monitor.

"All of it?" she squeaks, looking at the vast room that's virtually filled with his 'recovered' pieces of art.

"Well, most of it any rate," he answers as he connects cables to the back of the computer tower. "I've done some already, but I'm afraid that I haven't had time to complete the job. I have other things that are in need of my attention and I just don't have time to do this one thing. I would greatly appreciate it if you could do it for me."

"I suppose I could try," she responds as she watches him finish assembling the computer. "But I'm afraid I don't know anything about art."

"That is quite alright," he replies as he turns the machine on. "You'll be connected to the InterLink and I have plenty of books for you to go through. I created a program to help organize the cataloging, so all you have to do is put in the data and the computer will do the rest. It's really quite simple."

"If you say so," she replies nervously.

"Here, have a seat," he offers with a wave of his hand.

He pulls a desk chair over, she takes a seat and then he scoots her up to the desk. He proceeds shows her how to get into the program, to get onto the InterLink and what sites are best for the work she will be doing. He leans over her as he shows her what to do and she can smell the leather of his gloves and boots, the detergent he uses in his clothes and underlying it all is the smell of him. She tries to ignore the shiver that runs up her spine as she feels the heat radiating off of him. She fights the urge to just lean her head against him and let him take care of her for the rest of her life. Oblivious to what's going through her head, he instructs her in what information he wants her to put into the files and she's fairly sure that her head is going to explode from all of the information after a half hour's instruction.

"Do you have any questions?" he finally asks as he straightens up.

"Yeah," she answers dizzily, the information he's just given her all swimming around in her head. "Could you repeat everythin' after you said 'here, have a seat'?"

He chuckles and pulls up another window on the computer.

"These are the directions, step by step," he states. "I created them just in case."

"In case of what?" she asks, perplexed.

"In case…I forgot," he replies, his body conveying embarrassment.

"In case you forgot?" she laughs. "V, in the time I've been here you've quoted more Shakespeare at me than should legally be allowed. If you can remember all of those lines that someone else wrote, how can you possibly forget a program you created?"

"But I have forgotten certain things, important things, and it would be foolhardy of me to think that I will never forget again," he softly answers.

He then turns and goes over to the artwork and picks a painting out. He returns with the priceless treasure and props it up on an easel that's sitting next to the desk. He shows her where to find the artist's name and then how to search the InterLink for the artwork in question. He lets her start entering the data he desires onto the computer and while she's doing that he disappears back into the gallery.

Just as she's finishing getting the basic information down for the piece he returns with several large tomes in his arms. Her eyes feel like they're about to fall out of her head since she has them open so wide. It shouldn't be humanly possible to carry that many books at once, but here he is doing just such a feat with what appears to be very little effort.

"For what you cannot find on the InterLink, you will more than likely find in these books," he informs her as he places them on the desk. "I have more and will bring them in shortly. Do you think you understand it now?"

"I think so, but you said you've already cataloged some of this stuff," she answers. "Which ones do I need to do and which ones should I skip?"

"Everything that's already out in the Gallery has been cataloged," he replies. "The items in here are what need to be done now. If you don't wish to do this, you don't have to."

"No, that's alright," she responds. "I'll feel better knowin' that I'm doing somethin' useful. I'd rather clean out closets than just be sittin' around and doin' nothing'."

"Very well then," he says with a slight nod of his head. "I shall leave you to your task."

She watches him walk away out of the corner of her eye, admiring the view. When she realizes what she's doing, her face heats up and she attempts to suppress the tremor that runs up her spine. With a small shake of her head, she turns back to the computer and starts the rather daunting task of cataloging all of the artwork in the storeroom.

Scene change

A couple hours later, she's gotten a hang of her new job, but it's still a bit tedious and very butt numbing so she heads for the kitchen to make herself some tea. As she nears the main part of the Gallery, she can hear the clanging of metal on metal. Her heart nearly stops dead in her chest and she just stands there, paralyzed with fear.

A short time later, there's one last loud bang followed by clattering of something metallic rolling across the floor and then there's silence. She barely dares to breathe, her heart beating so loudly she can hardly hear anything at all. When no other loud noises come from the Gallery, she finally convinces her feet to move a little closer to the end of the hall, staying close to the wall as she goes.

When she finally gets there, she peeks around the corner and she can see V standing across the way. He has his back to her and a sword in his hand with the tip resting on the floor, almost as if it is a cane. He seems to be watching a movie and he's reciting the lines along with the actors, completely oblivious to the fact that she can see him. She quickly looks around the rest of the area, trying to figure out where the clanging noises were coming from and she finally notices the suit of armor has been moved out to the middle of the floor and its helmet is missing. It takes her a few moments to put two and two together but now she knows why the suit of armor looked like someone had been whacking on it.

After admiring the fine figure he cuts for a few too many seconds, she quietly sneaks into the kitchen and gets herself a glass of water before returning to the storage room and her work. As she gets the hang of researching the artwork that he's collected she's fascinated by what he has and how unorganized the whole place is. There is a Renoir with a Monet behind it and behind that one is a Picasso. She finds works from the Renaissance era, cubism, and modern art and even more styles she's never even heard of before mixed together in a hodgepodge way.

The place has not in the least bit organized other than the artwork is neatly stored. After she gets the first few pieces cataloged, she's at a loss as where to put them. She doesn't want to accidentally catalog them a second time, so she needs a place to put them until she can start putting the works in a more orderly manner. With a Rembrandt carefully held in her hands she wanders around looking for an out of the way place to store it and the other pieces.

She finally comes upon the corner she had hidden in what seems like a lifetime ago. She carefully sets the painting down and starts to pull up the tarp that's still heaped in the corner. As she starts to drag the canvas out, she discovers that there's something still in there. After carefully moving the folds of material, she finds a box and when she opens it up a smile lights her face.

Beheaded suit of armor or not, she needs to show her find to him immediately, so she carefully lifts the box up and heads out. The box is heavier than it looks and her arms protest the strain, but she ignores them as she quickly returns to the gallery. V is just returning the suit of armor to its normal resting spot, helmet back in place as she enters. He acts as if he's just examining the piece, but she smiles to herself since she knows the truth.

"Look what I found," she announces as she makes her way towards him.

Curiosity overcomes his embarrassment and he quickly comes over and relieves her of her burden. He swiftly takes it over to the piano and sets it down before opening the box up. As soon as he sees the contents of the cardboard container he goes perfectly still for several seconds, barely daring to breathe, before he carefully reaches in and pulls out one of the small vinyl disks, sliding it out of its dust jacket as he does so. He diligently inspects the 45 speed record, noting the artist and song name as he checks for any noticeable scratches.

"I believe I stated that you would find me more of these for me," he reminds her as he waves a graceful hand over the box. "And you have. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replies as she can feel her cheeks warm up.

"Where did you find them?" he asks as he starts to carefully unload the box.

"Buried in the tarp I hid under," she answers.

"Of course," he chuckles while he begins sorting the small black disks. "I was so consumed with getting the jukebox working that I did not bother to put away the tarp. Might I inquire what you were doing back over in that area? It seems a bit far off from where you were working."

"I wanted a place to put the pieces I had already cataloged so I didn't accidentally do them again," she answers, actually feeling a thrill of pleasure for making him happy while he continues to inspect his new treasure. "That corner is the only one not cluttered with art work. The tarp is awfully big and heavy. Would you mind helping me with it?"

"Huh? What?" he asks, startled from his reverie. "Oh, yes, of course. Give me a moment to put these away and I will gladly help you."

"Ok, I'll be in the storage room when you're ready," she says as she turns to go.

She returns to that massive cavern and heads back towards that corner, intent on at least starting to get the artwork moved around. She starts by dragging the tarp completely out of the corner after making sure there are no more hidden treasures in its folds. After it's out of the way, she carefully puts the Rembrandt she brought over into the corner, picks up a watercolor by someone named Hopper and heads back to her work station. After carefully setting the painting down, she picks up an O'Keeffe and heads back to that far corner. Just as she picks up a Toulouse-Lautrec, V walks into the room and watches her with a curious tilt to his head as she makes the long journey across the room.

"May I ask what you are doing?" he asks as she walks past him.

"Well, there's not a heck of a lot of empty space in here," she starts to explain while she puts the priceless item down next to the Hopper. "I figured that I'd put a piece that I had finished in that corner and then I'd bring a piece back with me so it doesn't get to cluttered back there."

"Interesting plan," he admits. "Where is the tarp?"

"Back by the corner it was in," she replies, heading back towards the far side of the room as she wipes the sweat from her brow. "It's heavier than it looks and I don't think I can fold it up by myself."

"That is quite alright," he assures her as he walks behind her and after a few meters she stops and turns to look at him.

"This feels weird," she states.

"What does?" he asks.

"You're walking behind me," she responds quietly. "It's supposed to be the other way around."

"You're not a slave any more, Audrey," he reminds her and she looks troubled by his comment.

"Not here, I'm not," she softly says. "But should I ever leave, I will be."

"They would have to catch you first," he states firmly.

"Not exactly a difficult task," she sadly points out. "They won't stop lookin' for me. Sooner or later they'll find me and even if they don't kill me, they'll do things to me to make sure I never talk."

"They won't find you here," he tells her for what feels to be the thousandth time.

"How can you be so sure?" she asks, she hugs herself as her body starts to tremble and she blinks furiously to try and stop the tears from coming.

"I've been watching them," he informs her. "They have no idea where you are and they are completely baffled about where you could be. You are safe here. Now let's get this tarp put away so that you may continue with your work."

She nods silently and turns back around, leading him to the heavy cloth without another word. Quietly, they fold the tarp up and he takes it with him as he heads for the door. She picks up another piece of artwork, a black and white photograph of Half Dome in Yosemite, and starts to follow him. He pauses at the door and looks at her face that's filled with worry.

"It is late, perhaps you should retire for the night and continue this in the morning," he suggests.

She only nods her agreement as she gently puts the Ansel Adams picture down. She walks over to the computer and saves her work before shutting down the computer. When she turns back to the door, he is gone and she quietly leaves the room, turning off the light as she exits.

She heads for her room, not really noticing that she doesn't see him around. She goes through her evening routine of getting ready for bed on auto pilot and eventually crawls under the covers. She turns off the light next to the bed and stares into the darkness, hoping that the Sandman will soon come to call. Sleep avoids her for what feels to be an eternity before sheer exhaustion pulls her under into fitful slumber. Her dreams are not restful and she tosses and turns until a comforting hand and a soft voice assures her that she's safe. With a sigh of relief, she slips into a deeper stage of sleep.

He watches her for some minutes just to assure himself that she will not wake screaming again. With a nod of satisfaction, he returns to his room and gets ready for his own bed. He lies in the dark, planning and organizing the next day in his mind before he finally falls asleep with visions of records spinning through his head.

Scene change

V wakes to strange noises coming from the Gallery and instantly every nerve in his body is alert. He dresses quickly and quietly before he stealthily sneaks out of his room. The ruckus is coming from the kitchen and as he nears the room, the most delightful smells filter through the mask to his nose. He instantly relaxes knowing that no intruder is going to bake for him and his step quickly and loudly so as not to startle his guest.

"Good morning, V," Audrey greets in a very cheery voice.

He doesn't respond immediately as he takes in the sight of his kitchen. Almost every horizontal surface is covered with food. Cooling breads, pies and muffins cover the counters and tables and his stomach grumbles loudly. She chuckles as she clears a spot for him to sit at the table and then goes back to what she was doing at the stove.

"What…is all this?" he asks as he waves a helpless hand at all the food.

"A bad habit I'm afraid," she guiltily admits. "When I get upset I do one of two things: clean or cook. It's not like there's a lot for me to clean around here so that leaves me with cookin'."

"So it does," he chuckles as he rests his hands on the back of the chair in front of him. "What are you making now?"

"Blueberry pancakes," she answers as she starts to flip the ones in the pan over.

"Oh, um…," he stammers.

"I'll leave yours in the oven until you're ready to eat," she states, not bothering to look up from her task. "I'm almost done. Once I'm through in here I'll get back to work catalogin' the artwork."

"How long have you been awake?" he questions, getting a better look at the array of food spread out in the small kitchen.

"A few hours," she replies with a shrug. "I kept havin' nightmares so I decided it wasn't worth tryin' to go back to sleep any more. By the way, where did you get blueberries? Even the general's wife couldn't get any and she could get just about anythin'."

"A supply train to Sutler," he replies as he leans over and takes an appreciative sniff of the French apple pie cooling on the table.

"You're quite the rapscallion, you know that, V?" she chuckles while she pours more batter into the hot griddle.

"Thank you," he chortles as he straightens up. "I do try my best."

"Why don't you go get cleaned up while I finish up in here," she suggests as she flips the flap jacks over.

"Why do you think I need to get cleaned up?" he queries.

"That's the same outfit you were wearing yesterday," she states as she points the spatula at him. "I recognize the dust smudges from when you were setting up the computer."

"Ah, I do appear to be a bit less then presentable, don't I?" he replies as he looks down at himself. "Then I shall do as you suggest and go get cleaned up."

With a bow, he turns on his heel and marches back to his room to retrieve a fresh set of clothing. A few moments later and she can hear the bathroom door closing followed by the sound of the pipes rattling as he turns on the shower. She quietly hums to herself as she finishes preparing breakfast for the two of them.

When he returns to the kitchen a short time later freshly washed and dressed, everything is as she said it would be. His breakfast waits for him in the oven keeping warm and she is long gone. He retrieves his plate from the oven and places it at the one clear spot at the table where she has left a pot of tea for him as well. He carefully checks that she's where she said she would be before removing the mask and enjoying his food.

After finishing his repast, he cleans the dishes that she's left soaking in the sink and then heads over to the jukebox. After meticulously writing down all of the songs and the artists on little pieces of paper to display in the case, he opens the machine up and starts to carefully put the records in one at a time. When he's done getting the labels in the right places he closes up the jukebox and turns to find a plate with a sandwich and a cut up apple waiting for him on the piano.

He quickly looks around and sees her retreating back as she heads back down the hall towards the art storage room. Taking his plate in hand, he heads for the monitor room, deciding to kill two birds with one stone. Once he locks himself in the room, he pulls out the disc from the recorder and then puts in a player.

He removes his mask and starts to eat while he watches the recording he made of Percy and his men. He's glad he's set it up that their meetings are being recorded since some of the things they talk about would more than likely land them all with very long prison terms. That's of course if they live that long.

He sighs in resignation as they start planning a party for some prominent member of the Norsefire party to try and gain favor of that person. Unfortunately, it's not someone he's interested in or he'd be making some plans for a bit of mayhem. As he continues to watch, plans for a little party crashing start playing around in his head despite his best intentions and he chuckles to himself at the thought of the anarchy he could cause if he wanted. Maybe a bit of madness is just what Percy and his cronies need.

Scene change

Author's notes: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Between going on vacation, school starting last week and having a bit of writer's block, I'm afraid that I've been a bit behind in my writing. As if my life isn't hectic enough, my crazy muse is forming another story in another universe in the back of my head and it's driving me to distraction. I hope people enjoyed this chapter and leave a review. Now, before you get out the wet noodles and the buckets of ice water because Audrey is starting to get interested in V, let me assure you my muse and I have plans for her. Mwahahahahaha.