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Gravity	By : JackHawksmoor Category: DC Verse Comics > V for Vendetta Views: 3533 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own V for Vendetta, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Gravity
- 2-two
- 3-three
- 4-four
- 5-five
- 3
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- 5
That evening, he beat the holy hell out of the suit of armor.

She'd spent her time reading. She read a little in the interrogation room, back in the false prison. Good light for reading. This had upset V a great deal. Then she'd retired to her room for a fresh book and continued reading there. This upset V much less. At least it had until he'd come to get her for dinner, and she'd refused to eat anything.

Firstly, it upset him because she was supposed to be getting her strength back and skipping meals wasn't likely to help her any, and secondly, more deviously, because it was an insult to his personal bizarre notions of hospitality. She wasn't quite oblivious enough not to notice how often he gave her gifts. She supposed he might even think her experience in his personal prison was a gift of sorts. At least sometimes, if the lighting was just right.

He was playing that song, when he put his head in to tell her dinner was ready. Trying to please her, to get her to come out. She was polite, and very cold, as she had been all day.

When she noticed him watching her in the hall. Staring at her hands. The hand that had touched him. When he'd looked in on her in the interrogation room with the air of a man who'd looked everywhere, finally got down to the one place she couldn't possibly be, and found an unpleasant surprise. When he'd peeked in to check on her with tea she wouldn't take. Polite, and cold.

She could see, by dinnertime, that he was starting to unravel.

That evening, he beat the holy hell out of the suit of armor.

At the first unearthly crash she bolted to the door, pressed her ear to the crack. She heard the sounds of a fight, mixed with a distinctive clattering of distressed plate steel. Evey sighed in relief, relaxing, moving back from the door. Just practice, or something like it.

The noise went on for a long time. Long enough and violent enough that she debated going out there, just to check on him. While she was still thinking about it, the fighting reached a crescendo that sounded very much like some significant portion of armor skidding across the length of a room and hitting a wall.

After that, things were very quiet. When she did finally come out much later to brush her teeth and get some water the lights were dimmed, and the suit of armor was standing placidly in its place as if nothing had happened. V was nowhere in sight, and she didn't look for him.

She debated getting something to eat, but in the end decided against it, not trusting the silent dark walls of the gallery around her. It would be very like V to appear suddenly while she was cooking. Besides, she wasn't going to starve. She was an old hand at going to bed hungry.

She left the door open a crack, letting a small slice of dim light into her room. Then she went to bed.

Evey woke later for no reason, and the sliver of brightness was gone, leaving her blind in a dark room. Underground the lack of light was thick, tangible, like black cloth pressing against her eyes. She looked around uselessly for a moment, sat up on the bed. A coil of uneasiness made her tense as she moved to get up, to open the door again. Perhaps V had-

“I prefer it shut, if you don't mind.” Said a voice she knew, startling her badly. She jumped, sat back on the bed with a little 'whouf' of breathless surprise.

“V?”

“Yes.” The response came almost before she asked the question.

“What-” Her eyes searched, sightless. His voice seemed to be coming from the back of the room, hidden amongst the books. “What are you doing in here?” For a reality twisting moment, she considered that she might be dreaming. Easier to believe that than to believe he'd been sitting in her room in the dark for who knew how long, listening to her breathe.

She heard him sigh.

“Merely gathering courage.” He replied. For some reason the tone of his voice made her relax, put her two steps forward to accepting the rather surreal encounter.

“I don't understand.” She said plainly, swinging her legs up on the bed so she could face where his voice was coming from. She heard cloth shift, heard him move toward her.

“I have something for you.” He said, sounding possibly more hesitant and uncertain than she had ever heard him. “ A gift, of sorts. I'm not sure it's to your taste, but-” He sighed, and it sounded like hours and hours of thought. Like debate and argument and throwing a suit of armor against a wall.

“I don't know what else to do.” There was a certain note of helplessness in his voice that sounded utterly sincere. She recognized it, recognized the feeling behind it from bitter experience, found herself giving him a sympathetic look that she knew he couldn't see.

She felt the mattress ripple as he sat down on the other side of it. There was movement, the sound of him setting something on the bed beside him. Frowning, she reached out, her fingers wandering blind, wondering what the hell he was on about. Her hand brushed something, but V's hand pounced, snatching quickly at her searching fingers.

He held her hand tightly for a moment. The leather was warm and felt almost alive. Was he shaking?

“Is...is everything all right?” She asked hesitantly, when he did not speak.

“I-” He stopped for a breath of laughter that didn't sound entirely happy. “I don't know how to answer that question.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, and that seemed to please him. He lifted her hand to his mouth, and when he didn't stop, she expected to feel the hard ridges of a painted smile press against the back of her fingers. Instead she felt human flesh, warm lips presenting a kiss to her hand.

She hissed in a breath through her teeth, stiffening in shock. Her fingers turned in V's hand, curling up, cupping his exposed face.

“Oh,” she said, her whole heart in her voice. When he heard it he sagged a little. In relief? Then he turned his face into her hand, pressing his lips to her palm.

She was leaning toward him, because she couldn't not lean toward him. Reaching out with her other hand, because she couldn't help but touch him. One of his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her up against him roughly.

God, he *was* shaking. The realization sent a shock through her brain in areas she didn't normally have to deal with. The first ripple of an earthquake running deep underground. Buildings would fall, later, but for the moment she was left breathless and unsettled.

“Evey,” He said, his voice soft, and a good octave lower than she had ever heard it. She spread her fingers on either side of his face, registering on some level that the skin had an uneven texture, but too far beyond pure pleasure at the opportunity to care in the slightest. His hand came up, the leather over his thumb brushing a line across her lips, while his fingers lifted her chin.

Finding his place? The thought squeezed unbearably in her chest, until he lifted his hand from her mouth, and replaced it with his lips.

She made a small sound against the press of his mouth. He ate the sound right out of her as if it was the choicest thing he'd ever had.

Want. Want suddenly presented itself to her like a living, breathing, clawing, snarling thing. It was like being lit up from the inside out, electricity grabbing her by the back of the neck, flashing sparks right down to her toes. If euphoria was a skin that could be slipped into, she was burning her way through it and out the other side.

He just kissed her. Only a kiss. That particular bit of knowledge hit her in the gut like a concrete block. He only kissed her, and pulled back.

He only lit her up inside and made her real. Only that.

She grabbed onto the circle of his arms, bracing herself, and he did much the same thing, hanging onto her as if she was the only thing in the world worth having.

“'Why, then, can one desire too much of a good thing?'” * He breathed, sounding shaken. His mouth found hers again, in the dark, tasting. The sensation was almost unbearable, and yet, having had it, nearly impossible to go without. Too much of a good thing? Yes, she thought, definitely yes.

He was trying to pull back, trying to put her away from him. He rubbed his hands from her shoulders down her arms, repeated the motion, as if trying to convince himself that she was separate from him. 'There. She goes there. Far away from me.' He continued it, trying to put her in her place. The idea was spoiled by the fine tremor in his hands, the way his arms kept wanting to pull her in, closer, until very shortly she was nestled up against his chest. His grip had an unerring tendency to soften, his hand to wander, to stray into a caress.

She let him, she let him try to put her from him because she was half willing to do it herself. The fingers she was pushing up his chest had an uncanny instinct to go for his neck. Her hands started to slide up and she didn't care. She was nearly certain she was about to throw her arms around him, and then she really would be lost. But when her fingers moved they encountered the soft curve of V's throat. Evey had a sudden, blinding urge to reach out and throttle him. It was so sharp she could see her hands around his neck. She made herself stop, made two fists in the fabric of his tunic to stop herself from having a go at him right there. She parted her lips, maybe to warn him, or scream at him, she wasn't sure...

V shifted his legs on the bed, pulling her closer with a rich sound of pleasure on his lips she could feel pounding in her heart. She suddenly had something warm and firm and obvious pressing up against the length of her thigh.

Want promptly beat her over the head into silence. She couldn't even feel her hands anymore, heard a soft moan trail out of her own lips. God, it felt delicious to be held...

V tensed at the sound of it, a raw vibrating tension that made Evey think Want was screaming in his ear as well. His cheek brushed against the soft skin of her shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his lips there. A faint “oh” trailed past his teeth like a wisp of smoke, his voice so low it was nearly a growl. She felt the vibration of sound on her skin. Then he bit her. A careful, deliberate application of teeth.

She tilted her head back, looking up into the darkness that was the ceiling. The darkness that was the whole world. For a flashing, glittering moment, many windows in the shifting plane of her mind aligned and she saw far across her own memory. The sense of some elegant design meant to bring her, to place her in the alley where she'd met V, through all the strange, organic inevitability of their time together right up to the moment where she sat breathless under the press of his mouth. Something shivered in her mind, just out of her sight, hovering at the edge. Something murmured to her. It sounded like fate. It felt as if someone had plucked her like a string.

“Was it all for this?” She asked, sounding odd and sleepy to her own ears. His mouth froze on her skin, pulled back. She looked at where his face might be, if she had light to see it. “Everything you did. To me.” She reached up swift as a blow and cupped his face in her hands.”Was it for this? For the hope of this?” She picked the words, pulsing, right out of the air as if they had been left there for her. He had flinched a little, at her touch. He exhaled when she stopped speaking and she could feel it, the words waiting for him. For a moment, she had almost seen....everywhere they'd been. Everything they would be.

If she loved him, she might not live through it, she realized.

“I don't know.” He said finally, honestly, the pain of bright self-reflection fresh in his throat. A knot of fury inside her relaxed away from violence. She leaned the side of her face against his in silent acceptance, and all the tension seemed to go out of him. For a long moment, she sat there quietly, curled up against him. A moth fluttering at a lightbulb.

“I should go.” He said to her, finally.

“So should I.” She replied with equal frankness. She wasn't speaking about exiting the bedroom, and he didn't insult her by pretending she was. She felt him recoil a little, as the implications behind her simple words sank in. She would be gone. Soon. They both knew it. Evey wasn't about to be caged, not ever again. Not even in the most well-intentioned way.

“Yes...” He said, faintly. His arms tightened around her, disagreeing. “But not tonight,” He breathed, a low, masculine sound that sent goosebumps racing over the whole surface of her body. His hands stroked down her back. As if to confirm she was still with him, she hadn't gone, not yet, because when she went...His head dipped down and he kissed her, in a simple kind of desperation that shocked her speechless. He kissed her like he would never get the chance again, and she let him. She slipped her arms up around his neck and responded as if he were the only thing real in the whole world.

“Evey,” He murmured into her lips, his arms embracing her firmly enough that he was nearly hurting her. Because it would be unbearable, if she left. If she was gone...Evey was already holding onto him as tightly as she could manage and still reach his mouth. Unbearable for both of them.

“I'm here.” She breathed as his head tilted, his lips trailing down the side of her neck. A hot, needy press of mouth to skin. She made no promises of tomorrow, or the day after. No forevers. She imagined he would like to hear it and believe it, maybe even more than she would like to say it and mean it.

Pity. Pity it would be a lie.

“I'm here...” She reassured him, and it was the only truth she could give him. As he pressed her back into the sheets she thought that for the moment, it just might be comfort enough for both of them.

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*"As You Like It"
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