V for Vendetta 2

Part 12: Vixen

*Any resemblance to real life people this story may contain is purely coincidental. Not trying to force or mock any political beliefs, this is simple satire*

"As the legend goes, when the Phoenix resurrects from the flames, she is even more beautiful than before."
~Danielle LaPorte

V's POV
The rain makes a soft hiss as it patters down against the glass covering that I have put over the rooftop. I'm not sure what it's original purpose was, but there has always been a retractable ceiling over the rooftop, for whatever reason. I look down at my watch. According to my calculations, she will be here in 10 seconds.
9
She's walking up the stairs.
8
I'm smoothing a wrinkle out of the white linen table cloth.
7
I'm pondering my existence.
6
I can hear her footsteps coming closer.
5
I'm moving my wine glass further from me.
4
She's almost here.
3
I'm straightening one of her forks.
2
She's reached the door, I can hear the handle turning. I stand up, ready to greet her.
1
She comes through the door. My God. My knees go weak. I want to walk over to her but I cant move. I'm paralyzed. God help me, she's cast a spell on me, this vixen. Her legs must be a mile long. Oh, and the way they mingle with her dress. The dress fits so much more beautifully than I had anticipated. Than I had imagined. Evey is- "What is all this?" Evey says, interrupting my boyish thoughts. Oh god. What is this? What does that mean? What does "what" mean? What are words? "This..." I stutter. "It's... It's for you. It's for you." Eveys eyes go wide, "For me?" She says. I nod. "Oh, V." She says in a breathy voice that kills me dead on the spot. Evey trots towards me, heels clicking along the slick roof, and wraps her arms around me in a wonderfully suffocating hug. She kisses my mask on the cheek and I'm nearly passed out. "Why.. Why don't we eat?" I say, hoping to avoid my impending demise. Evey smiles at me and I pull out her chair for her to sit in. After she sits, I place her napkin over her lap and push her chair close to the table. I seat myself, hoping I'm not visibly shaking. Evey looks across the table, which is covered in three hours worth of cooking: casseroles, loafs, biscuits, and loads of other goodies surrounding a golden browned, plump, proud turkey reigning over the meal from his silver platter in the middle. "The wine?" I say, shakily, as I watch Eve's tongue slide over her top lip, slightly moistening it in the most innocently seductive way. She blushes, "Oh, right." She produces the Vavasour from under the table. A white wine, perfect. I set the bottle down on the table and fold my hands in front of me. Evey looks at me, expectantly. "Go ahead and eat, doll. I'll eat later, alright?" I say. She grabs a knife and heads straight for the turkey before pausing to say, "You're not going to be eating?" I shift uncomfortably in my chair. "No, not right now." Evey smiles apologetically before stabbing into the turkey, trying in vain to carve off some white meat. "Here," I say, grabbing a large fork off of the table and holding the bird still as she cuts it. She blushes, and again, and so do I. She fixes herself some potatoes and some casserole and starts to eat. I give her a few minutes, as she seems very eager to gulp the food down. After her plate is mostly empty, I clear my throat. Evey looks up at me. I try to figure out how to phrase what I'm about to say, something I've been doing nearly all day without success. "Eve..." I start, deciding to just say it. "I have received correspondence via Fate from an acquaintance in the Americas requesting assistance." Evey cocks her head, "Acquaintance? I didn't know you had any friends." Evey pauses, and then quickly says, "I didn't mean it that way... I mean to say that you've never told me about a friend in the Americas." I nod, "It's quite alright." I say. "I've never told you about my acquaintance, Chantz, because for the longest time, well, I feared him dead. I haven't heard from him in several years and it's a terribly violent place where he lives, the very edge of Scrumptopia. I really wouldn't be surprised if he didn't survive his teens. But he did, and he sent me an email early this morning." I pause to let Evey think and fiddle with my wine glass. Evey sits back in her chair and says, "What does he need help with?" I push my wine glass away from me and slowly stand, sighing, "Well, I can't say that his reason came with any surprise to myself, though, I wasn't expecting such a sudden... Response." I pause and Evey leans forward in her chair, "Yes?" She says. I look away from her and say, "I'm sorry to say, but it wasn't so much a request for assistance I received from Chantz... It was an invitation.... And a warning." I look back at Eve, as she slowly sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms. "Invitation... I- I'm not sure I-" I cut her off, "What I mean to say is that we are no longer safe here. Word has reached America of our- my actions... And I think it best we leave, as swiftly as possible." Evey's face goes shadowy, her arms trembling as she stands and says, "Trouble? Who? Where are we going to go?" I take a step back from her and say, "The king of Scrumptopia, President Scrump, has  shown interest in "claiming" England for himself. At this moment, we are the only thing standing in the way of this entire country becoming a "territory" of Scrumptopia and Scrump is more than capable of flattening us in his pursuit of power." Evey puts her hand on her chest. "But," She says, "You still have yet to answer my question. Where are we going?" I look away from Evey. Away from the half consumed dinning spread. Away from this moment, and off onto the rapidly fading sunlight. "Scrumptopia." I say, my voice barely a hoarse whisper.