A/N: This is just a one-shot, takes place after Jordan Tower, just a few weeks after Evey has come to stay with V, before any of the angst. I normally don't write fluff, but I've a break and feel like a sensual interlude with two of my favorite characters to chill me out. So here you go. Reviews are more than welcome.

Evey cursed quite loudly as the mug sailed over her head and crashed onto the floor. She ducked her head and hunched her shoulders as the ceramic bits flew in every direction. Sighing dejectedly, she stepped down from the chair she had been standing on to reach said mug, and she crouched down low on the chair to begin reaching for the larger bits of broken shards to pick up, so her sock-adorned feet wouldn't get cut. It was sometime before dawn; she'd awoken from the same nightmare of hiding beneath her parents' bed, and try as she might, sleep would not come back to her, so she had ventured out into the pitch-black Shadow Gallery to put on a cup of tea. The tasteful, light blue pajama set V had brought her the previous day proved its flexibility as she collected the shards carefully in her cupped palm. Depositing the remnants of the cup she had favored in a nearby bin, Evey began sweeping up the area it had crashed in, illuminated solely by the weak, yellow light of the stovetop range. It was the only light in the entire Gallery. So far as she could tell, V was either tucked away in Bedfordshire (wherever that happened to be for him), or out prowling the streets of London for Fingermen. Currently it was of no consequence to her; she had one thing on her mind. Tea.

When her cleaning chore was done, she removed the steaming silver teapot from its burner with an oven mit, letting it cool on an adjacent unused burner, and she rearranged the chair on the linoleum kitchen floor, steadying it with her hands for good measure before giving it another go. "Let's try this one more time, shall we?" She muttered to herself, standing up again. More careful than last time, she opened the cupboard to retrieve a teacup. Damn V for being so tall, she thought, moving up on her tiptoes. The ceramic, black mug she was after was still several inches beyond her reach.

"Perhaps I-" Evey screamed, whirling around so fast she almost fell over. She wasn't sure how, but the stovetop light blackened out just as she turned, and two large, warm hands steadied her hips.

"You've got to be – damnit, V! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"My apologies, Evey," his voice came as smooth as silk from her waist level. His hands lingered on her hips, and in the darkness she stared down at him, suddenly speechless. "I'm sorry to have startled you, but I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

"What happened to this light?" She asked in a hushed voice. "You sound different. Your voice-"

V's hands lifted off her hips, but she could feel them bracketing the air close by, as if he were about to capture her. "Ah, yes, I heard a crash and hurried to investigate. I do not have my mask on, which is why I shut off the light. I did not want to frighten you."

She laughed nervously. "Too late for that. Help a lady down?"

"Most certainly," he replied regally, and she gave a small gasp as his strength manifested itself, and gentle but firm hands cupped the sides of her waist, lifting her off the chair and down to the floor as if she weighed nothing at all. Evey allowed her thumbs to pass over the tops of his hands as he helped her find her footing. She could have sworn she heard a sharp intake of breath at the contact. His hands were surprisingly smooth and soft, as if he'd just applied moisturizer before bed.

"Cheers," she whispered, thankful he could not see the rush of blood to her cheeks at his close proximity. He was mere inches from her in the darkness. All she had to do was reach out… mustering up some courage, Evey lifted her hand, but as if he instinctively sensed what she was doing, she heard him scale the chair in one swift move.

"Might I be of assistance in getting you a tea cup?"

His melodious voice, dropped low in the darkness sent endorphins tingling through her body.

"Yes, thank you. I … I had my eye on the black one since the other one broke." She knew the black one was his, but he simply made a very male, non-committal affirmative sound in his throat as she listened to him rummage through the cupboard. "Of course you can't see it, though. Just grab whichever is the closest."

"My senses in the darkness are quite acute, actually. I can see it next to the white one." She heard the soft scraping as he retrieved it, and he bounded down quite close to her, lifting her hand to feel the handle of the mug. "My lady's effects."

She smiled in the darkness, purposefully keeping her hand over his. She let her voice drop a notch to a bedroom tone. "Thank you V. For the record," she ran her finger slowly over his clenched fist, "I have never had a problem with your hands, and I'm sure it goes for the rest of you."

He shrank back from her once she had a grip on the mug, and she heard him turn away. "You wouldn't say that, Evey, if the light was on," he murmured darkly. Tentatively, she reached a hand out, touching his silken pajamas between his shoulder blades. She felt him shiver; whether from the contact or from fear, she did not know, but touching him felt right.

"I don't care what you look like, V, you've become one of the most important things in my life these last few weeks … but I'll respect your desire to remain unseen." Her eyes trailed down the outline of his form in the shadows, and she turned away, holding the mug. She began feeling out in front of her for the counter, when she felt him suddenly come up right behind her, sandwiching her right hand delicately between the top of his thumb and forefinger. He stepped closer behind her, and guided her hand a half foot to the right.

"I don't want you to burn yourself," his voice purred in her ear. She sighed, leaning back into him as he helped her hand find the counter away from the stove. "T'would be a pity to waste such elegant beauty in such an ugly world with scars as deep as the ones I carry."

Evey was left breathless. The solid wall of muscle that was his chest was pressed against her back, and she knew he was pushing his limits as far as he dared. She felt him starting to pull away, and she looped her right arm around his toned bicep.

"V."

"Yes, Evey?" She felt his face lightly touching her hair, and she could have sworn he was closing his eyes.

"I-" She couldn't finish. What could she possibly say to him? Some things were better left unsaid. She leaned into his touch, and very carefully setting the mug down on the counter, she crossed her arms, gently touching his sleeve with the other.

He surprised her, and wrapped his arms about her, burying his face in her hair from behind. "For behold, I have not seen such beauty until this night," he whispered, his lips grazing her earlobe.

Evey shut her eyes. That voice.

They stayed like that for several blissfully silent moments, and when she grew enough bravery to turn her face to the left, bringing her hand up to feel his face, he instantly dropped his arms and backed away.

"I am truly sorry, Evey. I can't."

"I … I understand," she said grimly, swallowing the dry bitterness of disappointment.

"I must take my leave of you. Please enjoy your tea. Goodnight."

"Good-" The oven stove top light bathed the small kitchen in weak yellow, and he vanished like a thief in the night. Like a V in the night, she chided to herself.

Catching her breath, she turned to attend to her tea, briefly shutting her eyes, imagining his hands on her.

Down the corridor, in a darkened alcove, V leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling with deep, shattering breaths.

He went to bed imagining the same thing.