Author's Notes: My sincere apologies for taking so long with this update. I swear my muse has gone completely insane. However, I was able to squeeze this chapter out of her finally. I know it's a little Audrey heavy, but I do try to keep V in it as best I can and it's longer than the other chapters. Thanks for reading and please leave a review when you're done.
He happily hums to himself as he passes the blade of his knife over the whetting stone. The ring of the metal as it's sharpened to razor sharpness is music to his ears. He checks the edge of the knife in his hand carefully before gently setting it down and picking up the next one.
A smile stretches his lips as he thinks of all of his preparations. His boots are polished to shine, his wig is combed out and the sound system has already been hacked into. The bombs and fireworks are ready to be put in place, his new outfit is nearly done and he is almost done sharpening the blades before him. In a little over a weeks time all of England and eventually the world will know that V exists.
His stomach grumbles and he looks up at the clock. It is nearing dinner time and for a brief moment, he misses the company he used to have. Her cooking was always such a delight and while he silently loathes to admit it, he did enjoy having someone to talk to from time to time. Mondego and the bust of The Bard are great listeners, but horrible conversationalists.
He pauses for a moment as he wonders what she's doing now. A small niggling thought at the back of his mind reminds him that he hasn't heard back from his contact letting him know that she's arrived safely back in North America. With one last slide of the blade over the stone, he pushes that worry away knowing there's nothing he can do about it now. He places the last knife next to its brothers before cleaning up his work and going in search of food.
Exhausted and dirty, she drops down onto the bench by the table in the dining area and then scoots over as far as she can to make room for the next person. Soon there's a warm body pressing in on either side of her and she's not really caring that her personal space is being violated. She knows the men aren't in any better shape then she is and in a few cases, a few of them are worse off. When Paul and Tom walk into the room, she barely has the energy to look up at them.
"Ok, the good news is that the hull appears to be intact and we're not taking on any water," Paul states without preamble. "The bad news is that the engine is shot and we're dead in the water."
"Which I warned you would happen," Sean snarls from his end of the table, his arm in a sling and a bandage wrapped around his head.
"I've sent out an SOS which hopefully will be answered within the next few days," Paul continues as if Sean hadn't spoken. "We're not that far from Canada, so with a bit of good luck, they'll send someone out to help us."
"If you had listened to me, we wouldn't have needed to send out an SOS in the first place," Sean snaps, glaring at the other man.
"We would have had to turn around a week before ya started you're yammerin' to have made it back in time," Tom shoots back, a smear of black soot across his forehead and one cheek.
"Alright, that's enough," Paul states firmly as he steps between the two men. "Yelling at each other isn't going to change our situation. Without the engine, we're running on generators and battery power, neither of which will last very long. Our main concern is food and water. As long as the batteries hold out, we'll be able to keep the icebox going and there's plenty of fish in the cargo holds. Water, on the other hand, is another story. I just checked the tanks and we're about half full. Since we don't know how long we're going to be out here, we're going to have to have a few rules."
"Here it comes," Sean huffs, but no one pays him any mind.
"Water is to be used for drinking, cooking and necessary cleaning like the dishes and hands," Paul says. "Flush the john only when necessary; no showers and if you really need to get some of the grime off, take a sponge bath."
There's some minor grumbling from the crew, but no outright protests. She frowns as a thought occurs to her and she gets her paper and pencil out.
How do we cook once the batteries fail?
"We have a couple generators that we can use to turn things on as we need them," Paul answers. "But they're noisy and getting more fuel for them will require siphoning the gas tanks. Not something I'm looking forward to."
"Without the engine to run the heaters, how are we going to stay warm?" one of the other hands asks. "It gets bloody cold at night."
"Bundle up, wear as many layers as you can," Paul replies. "Wear your shoes and your jacket to bed if you have to. Keep the doors to rooms closed at all times. This'll help keep the heat in the rooms. I know things don't look too good right now, but I'm sure help will be coming soon. We just need to tough it out for a few days."
"Or we could find someone to cuddle up with at night," Sean suggests.
He openly leers at Audrey and she starts to write quickly while Tom's hands begin to curl into fists. She holds the pad up a few moments later and the men sitting near Sean start busting up while Sean himself turns an incredible shade of red and scowls at her. Tom turns the pad so he can read it and then chuckles.
Only if you want to be a eunuch by morning.
His fingers gently grazing against hers before he lets go and she manages not to gasp at his touch, but can do nothing to stop the delightful shiver that runs down her spine. She refuses to look at him as her body screams to be held and she never sees the narrowed eyes of the suspicious engineer.
"As long as the other person is willing, I see no problem with sharing body heat," Paul states while the rest of the men snicker when they get to see Audrey's note. "Just make sure that's all your sharing. The walls in this place aren't that thick and there are no engines to drown out any unusual noises."
There's some uncomfortable squirming around and a couple well placed elbows and glares reminds her neighbors that while she's willing to share body heat, she's not willing to be squished. Things settle down a few moments later and Paul continues with the rules of maintaining the ship while they wait for help to arrive. Audrey listens with only half an ear as her heart pounds with renewed hope that it will be a Canadian ship that finds them and all the work she and V went through will finally pay off.
The scowl on his face belies the jovial look of the Guy Fawkes mask he wears as V stares at his computer screen. Not only has his contact in Scotland been conspicuously silent, but a check of port records shows that the Victory has yet to return home. To add to his displeasure, he has finally gotten hold of the captain of the Viceroy and has found out that the ship never left Quebec due to the captain only just getting out of hospital.
While even he could not have predicted the Viceroy's captain having appendicitis, he is not pleased by this turn of events. A variety of scenarios play out in his head as one question after another cross his mind.
Where is the Victory is now? Were they able to meet up with another Canadian ship that was willing to take Audrey on? Even if they weren't able to find a Canadian ship to take her, why haven't they returned yet?
But the most troublesome question for him that has him quietly seething is the one he likes the least. Was he wrong?
He knows that there was no other way to get her safely out of the country. The train that was used to bring her into the country was closed down years ago and as he told her, flying out would have been impossible. But he still wonders, was he wrong?
The frustration of being unable to do anything has him ready to kill someone...literally. Knowing that with only a week until the country knows of his existence, he dares not venture street side and be spotted. Left with no other option really, he heads towards his play room in hopes of venting off some of this anger. But he knows that no matter how long he takes his feelings out on his practice dummies, he will be wondering in the back of his mind, was he wrong?
For several days they've floated adrift in the North Atlantic with no sign or word that anyone has heard their distress calls. They've continued to try and function as a crew, but with no real purpose other than to survive, things have started to degrade. Audrey has avoided being alone with Tom for fear that someone will catch them being friendly and assume that she's now there for their entertainment, not as a crew mate. She's keeping one of the guns she got from Abigail Percy's men hidden in the pocket of her heavy pea coat and she's not sure if it's there to protect herself from unwanted advances or to end her own life if there's no way out.
With it pointless to catch any more fish until they run out of what's in the hold or what's in there goes bad, the crew has too much idle time on their hands. They try to pass the time maintaining the ship or trying to fix the engine or playing games, but the tension is starting to get to even the mildest mannered person, Audrey being no exception. Tempers flare at the slightest things now and more than one crew member sports a black eye, busted nose or split lip. Sean walks with a bit of a limp after having another go at Audrey and her kicking him in the shin hard enough to raise a goose egg there.
The animosity between the two of them isn't helped by Sean spreading rumors about her and Tom being more than crew mates. It doesn't seem to matter that no one has ever caught the two of them alone and they're almost never in the same area of the ship together. People are starting to believe.
Paul does his best to try and keep everything running smoothly, but he's only one man out of a dozen. Nerves are stretched to the breaking point and everyone's on a hair trigger. Audrey doesn't envy Paul his position, but she has to wonder that if she wasn't there, would it be this bad?
Sean is of course the worse of the lot and Paul tries to keep him busy with tasks around the ship. But while his hands are occupied, it doesn't stop his lips from flapping. Audrey's sure that if his loose lips don't stop soon, her ship is sunk. She'd sooner take her own life than let one of those men force themselves on her and for that reason alone she carries the gun.
Since she's pretty much the only one who's a decent cook, she's taken over the galley and most of the men are fine with it. If anyone invades her domain, it's usually for something to eat to which they're promptly reminded that unless they want fish, they'd best leave. Any who come looking for anything else get to witness her sharpening the nine inch carving knife while she glares at him. They don't stay long.
The only other place she feels somewhat safe is her room and it's on the way there that she encounters Tom just as he comes around the corner. They stop and stare at each other, both knowing that either one of them has to back up until there's room to pass or they can squeeze past each other. She starts to turn around when he flattens himself against the wall and she looks at him dubiously.
"Come on, love," he says softly. "I won't bite."
She hesitates for a minute before finally giving in to the need to reach the relative safety of her room. She presses her back to the opposite wall and starts to slide past him, resolutely keeping from looking at him. Just as they come face, he reaches up and gently runs a finger down her cheek. Startled, she stops and looks up at him in surprise.
"You had a hair stuck to your lip," he explains.
They stare at each other for something short of eternity and she's pretty sure at that any second her wildly beating heart is going to explode from her chest. The small sensible part of her brain is screaming at her to keep moving, to get away from him, but it's to no avail. Her body remains frozen there, like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.
Emboldened by her not running away, he gently caresses her cheek with his fingertips and then starts to dip his head down again. She can feel her entire body trembling and she knows it has nothing to do with the cold air, especially since she can feel sweat dripping down her spine. He moves his face closer to hers and she can feel his breath across her lips just as the last person in the universe she wants to see comes around the corner.
"Well, don't you two make a lovely sight," Sean sneers, a malicious glint to his eyes.
"Oh, bloody hell, Sean, give it a rest, will ya?" Tom snaps as he pushes Audrey back the way she came so he can turn and face the engineer and effectively act as a barrier. "We're just passin' each other in the hallway. People do it all the time."
"Funny, I don't ever recall seeing you nearly snogging the captain when you've passed him in the hallway," Sean shoots back.
Realizing that she's not going to get to her room and it's minor amount of safety, she turns on her heel and stalks back the way she came. She ignores the voices raising in anger behind her and heads out onto the open deck for some fresh, albeit freezing cold, air, angrily cramming her knit cap onto her head as she comes outside. She takes a deep breath and tries to clear her head of the feelings and thoughts she has for the first mate.
She knows she can't get involved with him or anyone else until she's safely back on North American soil...if that ever happens. She heads over to the railing and stares out towards the west in the vane hope that she sees a ship coming to her rescue. She thinks she sees something off in the distance, but it's too far away to tell if it's a ship or an iceberg at this point.
She considers going up into the pilot house to borrow the binoculars that live up there when the sound of raised voices reaches her. She turns in time to see Sean and Tom coming tumbling out onto the deck, grappling with each other like a couple of school boys. With a sigh of disgust, she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at them.
It doesn't take long for the rest of the crew to be attracted by the noise and soon they're yelling at the two fighting men. A flash of weak sunlight off the pilot house door catches her attention and she sees the captain hurrying down towards the ensuing battle. Despite being over sixty years old, Paul makes it out onto the deck in nearly record time and is pushing his way past the crowd of onlookers to get at the combatants.
"That's ENOUGH!" Paul shouts as he tries to get between the two men and ends up getting punched by Sean by accident, knocking the older man to his hands and knees.
With a roar of anger, Tom launches himself at Sean and they're soon rolling around on the ground. Audrey shoves her way between a couple of the men to get to Paul and helps him to his feet. She helps him stay on his feet as blood flows freely from his nose and she worriedly notes that he's having a hard time focusing on her.
"I'm sorry, Audrey," Paul moans near her ear. "I can't control them any more. You'd best barricade yourself in your room until things calm down."
She smiles up at him, pats his cheek and then hands him a clean handkerchief. He starts trying to staunch the blood flow as she pulls the glove off her right hand and reaches into her coat pocket. By this time Tom and Sean have gotten back to their feet, but are still throwing punches at each other and her patience has run out.
Sean starts an all out attack against Tom just as a loud CRACK fills the air and all of the men jump. They turn towards the source of the sound and every one of them stare in shock as Audrey slowly lowers her arm, the just fired gun dully glinting in the late October sunlight. She carefully walks towards Sean and Tom, coming between them and they both take a step back.
She glares at first Sean and then Tom before putting the safety back on the pistol and then slipping it back into her pocket. When her hand reemerges, her pad of paper and pencil are in the weapon's place. She quickly writes something down and then shows it to both men.
You're both idiots!
"Now that's not fair," Tom objects. "I was defending your honor."
My honor was doing just fine until you started trying to get cozy with me. I'm a crew mate, not a play mate.
He stammers at that, unable to come up with a good response to that. While a part of her is sad that she's had to tell him off, the sensible part of her is glad that it's over and that she won't have worry about him getting friendly any more. She starts to turn to go just as Sean makes a lunge for her.
Instinct and training take over and her elbow comes up and back, nailing him right in the mouth as he reaches her. He gives a shout of pain, grabs his mouth and staggers back a couple steps. However, a glint of metal catches her eye and she turns to see that he's gotten her gun.
"Bitch," Sean snarls when he pulls his hand away from his face and sees the blood on his glove.
She turns around to face him and flips him a two finger salute. He glares at her and she returns the look measure for measure.
"Private citizens aren't allowed guns," Sean points out and she shrugs.
So?
"So how did you get one?" he demands as he pulls a glove off and gets a feel for the weapon.
None of your business.
"Well, it's my business now," he smirks as he slips the safety off and levels the weapon at her. "Now, be a good little girl and do as I say."
She sakes her head 'no'.
"You don't think I'll shoot you?" he asks in disbelief and she quickly scribbles her reply.
Does it matter? What good is a dead body to you?
"You're not afraid?" he questions, stunned that all she does is glare at him before writing her answer.
Of death? No. Of you? Hardly.
"Alright, you're not afraid for yourself, but what about others?" he inquires and he looks over at a couple of the guys he hangs out with the most. "Get 'em."
Before she can figure out what he's going on about, most of the crew turn on Tom and Paul. The captain and first mate are quickly overwhelmed by the other men and all she can do is stare in horror as the two men are forced down onto their knees, their arms pinned behind their backs. She hastily scrawls a note, not caring how sloppy it is.
If you have a problem with me, then take it up with me. Leave them alone.
"Oh, I don't know," Sean drawls as she puts herself between the engineer and the two struggling men. "I always wanted a ship of my own. Not that I really want this tub, but hey, beggars can't be choosers."
This is between you and me. Let them go.
"Make me," he dares.
Before he can blink, she throws the pad of paper at him like a Frisbee, hitting him right in the face. Startled more than hurt, he takes a step back and lowers the gun bit. He realizes his mistake a moment too late as she's suddenly right in front of him and her knee is making contact with his little sailors at a very high speed.
The air leaves his lungs almost as fast as she kneed him and his eyes bug out from the intense pain he's suddenly in. She steps back to allow him to double over and once he does, she brings her elbow down between his shoulder blades. He drops the gun while he tries to catch himself as he falls face first onto the deck and she quickly moves to retrieve it.
As she bends over, the gun is kicked out of her reach and she doesn't have to look up to realize that Billy, the biggest crewman on board, has decided to get in her way. She starts to make a dash for the gun that's skidded across the deck only to have Billy grab the back of her coat and lift her off of her feet. A second later, his arms are wrapped around her like a couple vice grips and she knows it's useless to fight him with her feet dangling several inches off of the ground. She relaxes in his grip, biding her time and saving her strength and energy.
"God damn bitch," Sean growls as he slowly staggers back to his feet. "We're stuck out here because of you."
The brief look of guilt on her face is all he needs to confirm his suspicions even though it's there for only a second.
"Bloody hell," he gasps as he tries to straighten up. "Why? Why the hell are we out here? For you, no less?"
She doesn't answer and refuses to look at him. He limps towards her and Billy but quickly jumps back when one of her legs kicks out at him. He's already sporting one too many bruises thanks to those steel toed boots and he's not interested in getting any more, thanks.
"Why!?" Sean screams as he turns on the captain, still being held captive by the men he hired. "Why are we out here? Why did you take her on when there were dozens of perfectly capable and willing men who knew what the hell they were doing? What's so special about her?"
Paul just glares back at the younger man.
"What is she really?" Sean questions with a snarl. "She's no sailor, that's for sure."
"What makes you so sure of that?" Tom snaps, giving another go at freeing himself and failing.
"Her skin isn't weather worn enough, her hands don't have the built up calluses of someone who's done this kind of work for years," Sean answers, turning to look at Audrey, "and she doesn't talk though I know she can."
She finally turns to look at the engineer, the question unspoken clearly written on her face.
"I heard you while you were sleeping shortly after we left port," Sean tells her, moving closer, but staying out of striking range of her foot. "You cried out. You didn't say anything, but I heard your voice. So, tell us, sweetheart, why are you here?"
"She won't answer you," Paul tells him, causing the other man to look over at him. "She has a speech impediment. It's too hard for her to speak clearly. That's why she writes everything."
"Is that so?" Sean responds, the tone of his voice is filled with disbelief. "So, why did you hire her? Out of all the more experienced men waiting for a job, you hired her. You didn't even bother interviewing anyone. You just went out one night and brought her back. So who is she? Why is she here? Is she here to keep you warm on the cold nights?"
"No!" Paul snaps. "That isn't why I hired her."
"Then WHY!?" Sean roars, coming to stand over the restrained captain. "WHY did you hire her!? She's barely useful when bringing in the catch. She barely knows how to tie a decent knot. Hell, she nearly went over the side during that last squall. What possible good is she?"
"I hired her because I was sick of eating your lots cooking," Paul shoots back. "I'm getting too old to keep eating crap any more."
"Bollocks," Sean snarls. "That doesn't explain why we went out much farther than we've ever gone. Why did you wait so long to turn us around? What's out here that's so damn fascinating that you went too far out and got us stranded here?"
"The catch is getting thin closer to home," Paul tries to explain. "I was hoping for better fishing out here."
"Bollocks," Sean growls again and then turns his attention to the only woman in the crew. "So, how about it, sweetheart? You going to tell us why you're here? It's your fault we're stranded."
"Don't be blaming her because ya couldn't take care of the engine," Tom snaps, once more trying to break free of the hands holding him down.
"I didn't ask you," Sean hisses, turning on the first mate.
Sean stalks towards the first mate and lets his momentum help swing his foot forward into Tom's gut. Tom lets out a grunt as he doubles over as best he can and then tries to get air back into his lungs. A sharply indrawn breath causes Sean to spin around and look at Audrey. She turns her face away from him as far as she can, but he can see a single tear leaving a trail down her cheek.
"You're not afraid of your own death," Sean states as he moves closer. "But you actually cry when your lover gets a kick to the gut."
He stops barely in time as her legs start to wildly thrash, trying to reach him. Billy tightens his hold on her, nearly cutting off her air, but she still keeps struggling. Sean moves back towards Tom, keeping an eye on her as he goes.
"I wonder," Sean muses as comes to a stop, standing over a scowling first mate. "What happens if it's someone else's life in danger."
He quickly gives Tom an upper cut to the jaw and her struggling intensifies. But it's no use as all Billy does is tighten his grip on the small woman. With her feet off of the ground, she can't get any leverage and all she can hope for is that she'll be able to kick him hard enough to get him to let go.
"So, ya can't fight me like a man," Tom snarls, ignoring the intense pain in his jaw. "Ya have to have your buddies hold me down so ya can get a punch in. Ya know ya can't win in a fair fight."
Sean looks over at Audrey who's still trying to kick Billy and having only partial success in hitting her target, but still the big man won't let go.
"What does it take to get you to make a sound?" he softly asks and she almost doesn't hear him.
When his words finally register, she stops fighting to look at him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. He moves a bit closer, stopping well out of her kicking range and watches her. She's a bit out of breath, but that's more due to Billy squeezing her than from her exertions.
"Other than that one time when you were asleep, I've never heard you make a peep," Sean states. "You nearly died and yet you didn't even make a squeak as you were going over that railing. No speech impediment is so bad that it would keep you from screaming. Why don't you make a sound?"
She naturally says nothing while he continues to stare at her and she's quickly going through every single self-defense move V taught her in her mind. Not that it really does any good since they all require her feet to be on the ground. She would have thought Billy would have tired by now, but she figures the guy probably has the endurance of an ox since he's built like one.
"I hit lover boy and all you do is struggle," Sean muses. "How much of a beating do I have to give him before you start squawking?"
She just glares back at him and he watches her for a little while longer before he turns around. He looks around for a moment and then he heads across the deck to where the gun had been kicked. He picks it up and heads back towards where everyone is waiting.
"Maybe I'm not using the right motivation," he says as he levels the weapon at the first mate's head.
She starts fighting for all she's worth with her legs trying to do some damage to the man holding her, her hands attempting to grab hold of flesh beneath all of the layers of clothing Billy's wearing. So desperate is her struggling that she doesn't notice Sean is watching her very carefully.
"Or maybe, I'm not using the right target," Sean states loud enough to grab her attention.
She stops squirming long enough to watch as Sean changes his target and her heart leaps into her throat. The man who's risked everything to help her gain her freedom straightens up as best he can while Sean levels the gun right between his eyes.
"Goodbye, Captain," Sean intones with no feeling while he pulls the hammer back, cocking the gun.
"NO! LEAVE 'IM ALONE!"