V For Vendetta: See No Reason (PG)
Summary: In which Finch is startled and Evey sets up dominoes.
Notes: One last spate of Not Exactly NaNo stories, before the year ends! Post-canon, movie-verse.
SEE NO REASON
*
"You shouldn't drink so much."
"Jesus!" Finch nearly dropped the bottle in his hand. Who -- oh. Her. "Wasn't expecting you," he said, with a wary glance over his shoulder. Wasn't likely they'd be heard, but still, old habits.
Evey Hammond quietly set a jammer on his mantlepiece, and smiled at him. Her hair had grown out a little since in the months since November 5th, but her eyes still looked ancient as days. "I'll send a note next time."
"Planning on making this a regular visit, are you?"
"I can't go to Mr. Dascomb." She sat herself down on the couch, smoothing her skirts as if she were a fine lady instead of...Finch cut that thought off in its tracks. "And there's too much to be done to remain isolated."
"Setting up dominoes." He'd seen that elaborate set-up, in his one and only visit to what she called the Shadow Gallery. Hadn't quite dared ask if it was some kind of elaborate symbolism, or just what masked terrorists did when they were bored, in between setting up the downfall of the government. Given the terrorist in question, might've been both.
Evey merely smiled again. Finch irrationally wished she wouldn't. Not as bad as that mask had been, but still damn unnerving.
"How are you doing?"
"Busy. Still sorting out what all's crashed down so we know what needs building up." Finch picked up his neglected glass and took a defiant sip. "Don't think I've even seen Dominic -- that's Dominic Stone, the chap you pepper-sprayed -- more than twice this week, five minutes each."
"How is he?"
"Fine." Finch blinked at her. "Why?"
"Politeness. I did pepper-spray him." Her smile had widened. "Good night, Inspector. Don't drink too much." She rose, retreived her jammer, and glided out the door.
Finch took a deep breath and let it out. Jesus. At least she'd gone out the door, and not out the window or something. What was that about? Besides proving she hadn't died in a riot or just conveniently vanished.
"Dominoes," he muttered, and abandoned his whiskey for the phone.
Notes: One last spate of Not Exactly NaNo stories, before the year ends! Post-canon, movie-verse.
SEE NO REASON
*
"You shouldn't drink so much."
"Jesus!" Finch nearly dropped the bottle in his hand. Who -- oh. Her. "Wasn't expecting you," he said, with a wary glance over his shoulder. Wasn't likely they'd be heard, but still, old habits.
Evey Hammond quietly set a jammer on his mantlepiece, and smiled at him. Her hair had grown out a little since in the months since November 5th, but her eyes still looked ancient as days. "I'll send a note next time."
"Planning on making this a regular visit, are you?"
"I can't go to Mr. Dascomb." She sat herself down on the couch, smoothing her skirts as if she were a fine lady instead of...Finch cut that thought off in its tracks. "And there's too much to be done to remain isolated."
"Setting up dominoes." He'd seen that elaborate set-up, in his one and only visit to what she called the Shadow Gallery. Hadn't quite dared ask if it was some kind of elaborate symbolism, or just what masked terrorists did when they were bored, in between setting up the downfall of the government. Given the terrorist in question, might've been both.
Evey merely smiled again. Finch irrationally wished she wouldn't. Not as bad as that mask had been, but still damn unnerving.
"How are you doing?"
"Busy. Still sorting out what all's crashed down so we know what needs building up." Finch picked up his neglected glass and took a defiant sip. "Don't think I've even seen Dominic -- that's Dominic Stone, the chap you pepper-sprayed -- more than twice this week, five minutes each."
"How is he?"
"Fine." Finch blinked at her. "Why?"
"Politeness. I did pepper-spray him." Her smile had widened. "Good night, Inspector. Don't drink too much." She rose, retreived her jammer, and glided out the door.
Finch took a deep breath and let it out. Jesus. At least she'd gone out the door, and not out the window or something. What was that about? Besides proving she hadn't died in a riot or just conveniently vanished.
"Dominoes," he muttered, and abandoned his whiskey for the phone.