PERFUME

V knew she liked his smell. He knew because she'd never bothered to hide that fact from him and because she'd told him. Evey liked the smells of leather, of silk, of velvet, of brocade and steel. Not long ago they'd spent a whole afternoon selecting for him the best perfume among the many he'd collected over the years. She said an English gentleman –had- to have the right one. Where she got that notion from, he didn't know. He didn't care either.

Evey wanted to know everything about each bottle, for each had a story which should count in selecting the perfect one for V. He enjoyed telling her where he'd found them; this one in an old cellar, that one in a supply train for party members, that other in a church… Her little face seemed to shine with wonder as he weaved facts to turn them into adventures. She'd finally picked one and pronounced it –his- perfume. He'd adopted the habit of using it when he was home –never when he was out because ghosts weren't supposed to have a smell and it could betray his presence- but he'd apply just a few drops, this for purely selfish reasons; if the smell was discreet enough Evey tended to find little excuses to get near him and literally hunt it down. Sometimes she'd even slide on the couch and lean on him, rubbing her face slowly on his chest for long minutes at a time, just smelling him, shyly trembling with pleasure. He loved that; it was at the same time sensual, relaxing, and just enough decadent. One lazy afternoon she had a little confession to make; she liked the perfume very much but she liked his natural smell twice as much. V thought he'd lost it to fire and abuse but she'd found it, as faint as it was. She said the perfume somehow made it easier to find and although he didn't quite understand, it worked for her and kept her coming back and that was all that mattered.

Oh, but she didn't like his smell tonight. He thought he could sneak quietly into his room without disturbing her sleep and get rid of it before dawn, before the very same hands cooked her breakfast. It was well after 4 am and she was supposed to be in bed. Only… she wasn't. It was almost dark in the Shadow Gallery and V didn't even sense her on his way to his room, so focused he was in his own thoughts, and almost ran into her as she left the kitchen after drinking a little water. Evey greeted him with a sleepy smile and absentmindedly reached out to affectionately pat his chest with both hands, the chest she loved to rub against. Then she noticed the metallic smell and froze for a second, still with her hands on him. Her expression changed and the moist feeling in her hands finally made it all the way up to her recently sleepy brain. Too late; she'd been exposed to something he hadn't meant for her to experience yet but unfortunately there was no turning back. She removed her hands slowly and didn't really have to look at them to know they were covered in fresh blood. "V…" Her little voice resounded like thunder in the hall and the tall figure seemed to shrink a little before her. "Yours...?" V didn't know what she'd rather hear or if the answer would somehow absolve him or as he feared, simply condemn him but it was late at night, the hour for witches and cold truths. "No." And she just kept staring at the mask, knowing perfectly well that V had just murdered someone and in all likeness he'd enjoyed it. She didn't know how to react; she was unable to reconcile all aspects of him now that she'd been so graphically confronted by them. V could do nothing but return her stare and witness the battle raging inside her little body, hoping that her verdict would somehow favor him at the end. The poor girl stood there, now looking at her stained hands under the dim lights, then back at him, trying to decide if she should play the accuser or the accomplice. Finally V sighed, putting an end to her stunned dilemma. "Light and darkness both live inside us and one cannot exist without the other. Sometimes one must overrule the other, if only for a while, and our only hope is that balance is afterwards restored." She was still in shock but the sparkle of thought was visible in her eyes. At least she was considering his words and that was a triumph in itself. V took her by the wrists and gently guided her back into the kitchen, instructing her to wash her hands in the sink. He made her wash once, twice, three times, until he thought she was clean again. Long ago he had given up hope of ever achieving the same with himself so he'd stopped thinking about it altogether, until now. Evey needed some help with the kitchen towel and once they were done, V escorted her back to her room, saddened not quite by what he'd just done above but for having to keep his distance so she would not have to touch him or even smell all that blood on him again, something that could become a permanent ban. V didn't want to admit it either but in the immediate future it was no longer important to bathe and change because his breakfast appointment had been effectively cancelled.

Finis.