She's roughly shaken awake and instinctively she whips an arm around to hit her attacker. The flying fist is easily caught in a black leather clad hand and she opens an eye to glare at him. She's beyond sick of his early morning wake up calls and she's tempted to sleep with a frying pan just to see if just for once she can land a hit on him.
"Come, there's work to be done," he instructs as she yanks back her fist and then throws back the covers.
"What time is it?" she asks with a yawn and gives in to the need to stretch while he heads for the door.
"About two am," he answers, pausing at the threshold.
"TWO AM!" she yells, now fully awake as she suddenly sits upright. "For the love of everythin' holy, V, what in Sam hell are ya doin' wakin' me at this ungodly hour!? Even the roosters that wake the roosters aren't up yet!"
"As I said, there is work to be done," he reminds her.
"Couldn't it wait until a more decent hour?" she grumbles as she swings her legs over the side of the bed.
"No," he answers. "There's no telling when the police or Percy's men will return and we can't chance them finding you yet,"
"So we're workin' in the tunnels again," she grumbles. "Have Ah told ya how much Ah hate helping ya plant explosives?"
"Numerous times," he says. "But your hands and arms are smaller than mine and the places that the explosives need to be set in only your hands can reach into. Please, hurry."
"Then please get out so Ah can get dressed," she retorts irritably.
"As you wish," he replies with a bow and then leaves, closing the door behind him.
Knowing full well that he'll be pounding on the door in a few minutes, she grabs her clothes and then dashes into the bathroom to relieve herself since there are no loos in the tunnels. Once she's done with that, she strips out of her pajamas and slips on the form fitting black outfit he got her a couple of weeks ago when they first started planting the explosives . She looks at herself in the mirror after she's dressed and has to admit that the past three months of training have definitely had an effect. Before he started to teach her to fight, her clothing was starting to fit a bit too snugly on her and now they're much too loose.
While her body is in the best shape it's ever been in, her hair's a mess. Nearly nine years of dying her tresses brown has done some serious damage to the follicles. Her natural color is nearly three inches long now and the contrast between the two colors is very startling. She combs her fingers through her hair for a few moments wondering if just shaving it all off would help.
With a frustrated sigh, she balls up her hair on top of her head and pulls a black ski cap over it. She stuffs her feet into her boots, grabs her gloves and takes one last glance at herself in the full length mirror. It doesn't escape her notice that except for the lack of wig and mask, she could pass as a smaller, female version of V. With a snort of disgust, she heads for the door, opening it just as V is about to bang on the thing. He gives her a brief once over, a quick nod of approval, hands her a sandwich, then turns on his heel and walks off.
"How much longer before this is over?" she asks as she follows behind him to the exit out of the Shadow Gallery before taking a quick bite of her food.
"I believe another week should do," he replies as he gently lifts a satchel and hangs it over his shoulder before opening the door. "Georgia Jones needs to put in one more appearance to draw our quarry into the trap."
"Now ya're sure that none of the policemen are gonna get hurt, right?" she questions. "Inspector Finch and Detective Stone have been very kind to the boys and Ah'd hate for anythin' bad to happen to them."
"If they play their parts right, they will not be hurt by me," he assures her as he closes and locks the door behind them.
"So, once Percy's dead, Shire Stables will close," she states with a bit of relief.
"Actually, no," he tells her while he starts to lead her through a series of corridors that will eventually take them out to the old tube system.
"Then what the bloody hell are we doin' this for?" she demands.
"What we are doing is seeing to your safety," he answers. "Once Percy and his men are dealt with, getting you out of London shouldn't be as hard."
"Ah don't want to leave London," she quietly growls.
"So you've stated repeatedly for the past three months," he casually replies. "I'm afraid your staying is not an option. You stated you wanted the sun again and this is the only way you will get it without endangering your life or the lives of those you supposedly care about. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she hisses unhappily.
"Good," he nods his approval as he enters the code to the last door before they enter the tunnels.
A moment later they're in the tubes and all talking stops for fear of someone being down here and hearing them. She follows him as silently as she can, but try as she might, it sounds like she's wearing tap shoes compared to his stealthy walk. She finishes her sandwich as they make their way through the twists and turns of the tunnels and it doesn't seem to matter how often he takes her through these things, she always gets turned around.
By the time she's convinced that even he's lost, they get to the place he intends to set the explosives. He carefully sets his hat down on some nearby rubble and then gets down on one knee. She doesn't bother asking what he's doing as she steps up to him, swings her leg over his back and takes a seat on his shoulders.
He smoothly rises to his feet as if she weighs nothing, holding onto her legs to help keep her steady. He hands her the first explosive which she gingerly takes and then he points to the crack he wishes for her to place it in using a pen light. Trying to keep her hands from shaking too hard, she carefully plants the small incendiary device into the wall where he wants it.
More than an hour later, the bag is empty and he carefully lowers himself down so that she may dismount. The work is always nerve wracking for her and by the time they're done she just wants to crawl into bed and sleep for a couple of days. But, as he pointed out the one time she told him this, there's no rest for the wicked and so back to the Shadow Gallery they must go.
Between the lack of sleep, the long hike out to the site where they planted the explosives and then spending an hour planting those devices, she's exhausted and just follows along in his wake. She's barely aware of anything around her and is depending on him to get them home safely. It's not until she runs into his back does she realize that he's even stopped walking.
He looks down at her and she looks up at him in confusion. It's not until the handle of one of his knives is pressed into his hands does she realize that something is amiss. Her heart starts pounding as she quickly looks for a place to hide herself and keep out of his way. He disappears into the darkness and she knows there's no point in trying to find him.
A few moments later, she hears footsteps and the voices of men coming down the tunnel. She crouches down in her hiding spot and pulls her cap down as far as it will go to try and cover as much exposed skin as possible. She stays in her crouched down position trying to ignore her cramping muscles as the sound of several men slowly move closer, the light from their torches dancing over the walls as they go.
"Ya really think we're gonna find her down here, boss?" one of the men asks, the sound echoing down the tunnel.
"Finch believes she's down here and if she is, I'll find her," a second man replies irritably. "If I can just show up Finch, he'll have egg on his face and he'll be looking at early retirement, leaving the way clear for me to take over."
"What happens if Finch does find the Jones woman first?" a third man questions, their voices now sounding very close to her position.
"Well, accidents do happen," the second man answers with an evil chuckle. "Bein' a policeman is dangerous work. Never know when a stray bullet's gonna find ya."
The others snicker at their boss's little quip and a shiver runs down her spine.
"The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him…," a rich, velvety voice starts to croon out of the darkness.
"What the bloody hell is that?" the first man asks nervously.
"…and fortune, on his damned quarrel, smiling, showed like a rebel's whore," V continues, still hidden, his voice echoing off of the walls.
"Alright, show yourself!" the boss demands loudly making Audrey wince since they're standing very close to her hiding spot.
"But all's too weak, for brave Macbeth…well he deserves that name…," V purrs, as he steps out of the shadows where she can see him, his blades gleaming in the light cast by the policemen's torches.
"Holy shit!" yells yet a fourth man and she can hear guns being cocked.
"…disdaining fortune, with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution," V continues, twirling a couple of blades for effect.
"Drop the weapons buddy and you might walk away from this," boss man orders.
"Like valour's minion, carved out his passage…" V replies, enjoying playing with these fools.
"Alright, you were warned, buster," boss man growls. "Open fi…"
A wet 'thunk' cuts off the man's words and a second later she hears a body hitting the floor. Since she knows that the men's attention will now be completely on V, she chances a peek out of her hiding spot. What she sees leaves her nearly speechless as V moves as gracefully as any dancer on a stage while he disposes of the policemen.
The four remaining men raise their guns to take aim and V runs between them as they open fire. Two of the men go down, the one closer to her is holding his stomach and groaning in pain while the other one stares off into space sightlessly, blood flowing out of the hole just below his eye. She fights the urge to vomit as V grabs the third man, slashing his throat and then throwing the lifeless body at the final man.
The last man standing catches his fallen comrade and then drops him, trying to bring his gun up in time to defend himself. But it's too late; V is upon him and sliding a razor sharp blade into the man's heart, coming nose to nose with the man in the process. The man stares at V in surprise for a few moments before his eyes glaze over and he slides off of the bloody knife.
Audrey has her hand over her mouth, trying to keep her sandwich in her stomach when she catches a bit of movement out of the corner of her eye. The man shot in the gut has picked up his gun again and is shakily aiming it at V's back as the vigilante goes about collecting his knives and cleaning the blood off of them. Without thinking about it, she takes the tip of the blade between her fingers, raises her arm over her head just like she's seen V do and lets the dagger fly.
"Ouch!" he man yells when the handle of the knife hits him in the head.
V spins around and in one deft move, ends the man's life by slicing the policeman's throat open. V cleans off the blade again, picks up the one he had given Audrey and slides them back into his belt. He surveys the carnage thoughtfully, quickly planning on what to do with the bodies and ignores the sound of retching not too far away while he retrieves his satchel.
"Are you finished?" he asks when the sounds of her being sick finally stops.
"Ah think Ah threw up my toenails," she jokes weakly as he comes over to her. "Are we almost home?"
"We have a ways to go yet," he tells her as he helps her to her feet. "But we need to leave now, in case anyone heard our little disagreement."
She nods her understanding and quietly follows him past the bodies, trying not to look at the bloody corpses but needing to see where it's safe to step. Fortunately, they get past them quickly and they're soon on their way back to the Shadow Gallery. When she falls behind, he grabs a wrist and drags her along and she's so tired, she doesn't object to her handling.
By the time she staggers through the final door into the Gallery, she doesn't care if he has plans for her or not, she just wants a hot bath and her bed. She stumbles off and he silently watches her as she disappears through one of the many doorways. A short time later, he hears the water running and he nods his approval. He returns the small bag that carried the explosives earlier and stores it in its proper place before heading back out.
She's not sure how long she's been asleep, but she does know she's hungry enough to eat a horse. She has a good stretch and then climbs out of bed in search of some regular clothes. Once she's dressed, she heads for the kitchen, half expecting V to be there and is a bit surprised to not only find the room empty, but no food waiting for her on the table or in the oven.
She goes to make herself something to eat and as she's putting away the fixings for her sandwich, V comes in through the door that leads to the tunnels. He slowly and carefully makes his way through the Gallery towards his own room as she watches. She's never seen him look, for lack of a better word, tired. She wasn't even aware he could get worn out.
"V, are ya alright?" she asks.
"Yes, Audrey, I'm quite well, thank you," he replies as he slowly takes another step.
"Ya look a bit, I don't know, tuckered out," she observes, still a bit concerned. "Where ya been?"
"After I saw you safely back here, I returned to the tunnels to dispose of the bodies," he tells her, carefully placing a hand on a nearby wall and trying not to make it look like he's holding himself up by it. "Then there was the matter of cleaning up the blood so it wasn't so obvious where the bodies came from.
"It's nearly three in the afternoon," she replies as she puts down the butter knife she had been holding into the sink. "Where did ya take 'em?"
"Oh, not far, but far enough away that they won't be linked to you or me," he answers.
"So what took ya so long?" she questions.
"The Nose and Percy's men have returned to the tubes a lot sooner than I anticipated and I have spent a good deal of time avoiding them," he states. "There are more men down here than I had expected. It seems a reward has been put up for the return of Georgia Jones."
"Nice to know Ah'm worth somethin'," she mutters to herself.
"Not you, Audrey, Georgia," he corrects and is given a glare in response.
"In that case, Ah wish 'em all the luck in the world findin' that woman," she snarls as she turns her attention to the sandwich she's just made and lets out a defeated sigh. "Have ya eaten?"
"Excuse me?" he asks, a bit perplexed by the sudden subject change.
"It's not a very complicated question, V," she replies irritably. "Have ya eaten?"
"No, I have not," he answers and she puts the completed sandwich on a plate and brings it to him.
"Here, ya can have this," she says as she offers him the plate.
"Thank you," he says as he carefully takes the plate. "Are you not hungry?"
"Not any more," she replies quietly as she walks off and disappears down one of the corridors.
As tired as he is, he knows he won't be getting any sleep unless he finds out why she's upset this time. He can already envision himself lying in his bed, trying to figure out what he said this time to set her off, analyzing the conversation over and over in his mind. So with plate still in hand, he follows her into the training room.
He watches in fascination as she wraps tape around her knuckles and then proceeds to start taking her aggression out on the punching bag. She punches it, she kicks it and she beats the bloody hell out of it until she sinks to her knees in exhaustion more than half an hour later. She takes a deep breath and lets out a gut wrenching sob as she curls up into a ball on the floor.
He returns to the kitchen, puts the sandwich in the icebox and then goes in search of a box of tissues. By the time he returns, she's down to hiccupping little sobs, the matt and the side of her face quite wet from her tears. He kneels down beside her and puts the box of tissues where she can see it, but her eyes are squeezed shut.
"Audrey," he calls softly and the crying intensifies.
She curls up into an even tighter ball, bringing her bloody fists up to cover her face as the sobs wrack her body. He takes off his cloak and spreads it over her like a blanket, knowing that lying on the floor like this will chill the muscles. He's been through these bouts of depression before and takes a seat on the floor next to her, slipping into a light trance to wait out the storm of emotions.
He's roused from his meditation by the sound of movement and he opens his eyes to see her trying to pull herself up to her feet using one of the pieces of equipment nearly half way across the room. Smoothly and silently he rises to his feet, scoops his cloak up off of the floor and walks over to her. He holds his hand out to her and she looks at it for a few moments before deciding to take it and let him help her to her feet.
When she doesn't immediately let go, he knows that it's her silent request for help and he assists her into the kitchen. After helping her take a seat at the table, he gets out the sandwich she had made earlier and places it before her. She doesn't question, but starts to slowly eat as he moves about the room pulling items out of cupboards and getting water from the tap.
It's not until he sticks one of her hands in a bowl of warm water does she even notice what he's up to. She looks at her appendage for a few moments and then goes back to eating her food, not sure what he's up to, but not too concerned. Just as she's almost done her sandwich, the water finally soaks through the dried blood on her hand and she hisses in pain. She goes to pull her hand out only to have him stop her.
"Let it soak," he orders. "Otherwise I'll be pulling the scab off with the tape."
"It stings," she hisses.
"That would be the Epsom salts," he informs her. "It will help heal the wounds, but you must let it do its job."
She nods her understanding and finishes eating, quietly placing her other hand in a second bowl of warm water and Epsom salt when it appears in front of her. She placidly watches him tend her first hand after he's felt it has soaked long enough. He cuts away the tape, carefully pulls it off of her battered knuckles, causing her to wince and then bandages the hand. He repeats the process with the second hand and then cleans up the mess as she just sits there and waits.
"What was it this time?" he asks while he puts away the first aide kit.
"What purpose do Ah fill?" she whispers nearly a minute later. "Those who want meh, can't have meh and those who don't want meh, are going to be stuck with meh. Ah'm useless."
"You are not useless," he firmly tells her. "However, your worth cannot be recognized here."
"But what do Ah have to look forward to there?" she asks, staring sightlessly at the table top. "There's no one waitin' for me back in the States. All my family is dead."
"Your grandmother…," he starts.
"Is probably dead too," she interrupts. "Ah was all she had left. It probably killed her when she realized that Ah was never comin' home. She said she had a big surprise for me when Ah got home that day. Ah wonder how late she stayed up worrying about me, wonderin' where Ah was."
"You will be free and you can start a new life," he tells her as he takes the seat next to her. "Nothing says you have to return to the States once you return to North America, but you can't stay here."
"Ah know," she replies, her shoulders sagging even more in defeat. "But what can Ah do once Ah get there? It's not like they're gonna hand me a bunch of money and say, 'Here, go start a new life.'"
"You will always have your music, Audrey," he points out. "With that, you can build your new life."
"You cannot hold a song or kiss it, V," she counters. "As The Beatles said, 'Money can't buy me love'."
"If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die," he quotes. "While I cannot guarantee that you will find love in your new life, you will at least be free to try."
"Haven't you ever loved anyone in your life?" she asks.
"Not that I remember," he answers quietly.
"What a lonely life ya've lived," she says sadly.
"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players," he replies with another quote.
"It may be, but what a lonely stage to play on if there is no one on the stage but you and the props and no audience," she responds.
"I am no longer capable of love," he softly states.
"For your sake, V, Ah certainly hope ya're wrong," she tells him as she stands. "Ah haven't done any catalogin' today. Think Ah'll work on that for a bit. Ya should get somethin' in ya before ya fall down."
"I am capable of taking care of myself, Audrey," he points out, rising to his feet as well.
"What can Ah say?" she replies with a shrug as she leaves. "Once a mother, always a mother."
Before he can think of anything to say, she is gone and he just lets out a puff of frustrated air.
The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him…and fortune, on his damned quarrel, smiling, showed like a rebel's whore, But all's too weak, for brave Macbeth…well he deserves that name…disdaining fortune, with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, carved out his passage… - Macbeth
If music be the food
of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The
appetite may sicken, and so die – Twelfth Night
All the world's a
stage,
And all the men and women merely players – As You
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