Almost five years after the explosion of the Parliament, Evey sat at her kitchen table. Things had changed drastically. No longer were the people afraid of their government. It was the government that was afraid of their people.

'Just like V wanted,' Evey thought.

V…

She had been thinking about him. It was November the fourth, after all. Tomorrow was a holiday. They had made a holiday.

She sighed, running her hand through her short, choppy hair. She had decided to grow it back out from its shaven look but kept it short and straight, unlike before. She stared at a mask that looked quite like the one V used to wear.

Nearly everyone in England owned one. Dear God, she missed him. His beautiful voice, his beautiful lips.

After the explosion, she had not had any more romantic affairs. She couldn't. Not with the thought of V always on her mind. Maybe one day she would get over him, but it was not very likely.

Evey went to sleep early that night; however… she woke up in the middle of the night with a strange feeling, as if she was being watched. She sat up and stared into the darkness of her room, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She glanced at the clock. 11:42. Nearly November 5th.

She didn't see anything, but she got out of bed anyway. She wandered into the kitchen and began to make herself tea. Again, the strange feeling she felt before was back. She was suddenly very aware of her surroundings. She swallowed.

"Who are you?" she asked without turning around to see the person who had snuck into her home.

"Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask," the man said.

Evey's heart stopped. She slowly, slowly, turned around to find V there, wearing his mask. Tears immediately spilled from her eyes, but she said, "Well I… I can see that…"

"Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation; I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is," V said quietly, staring at her.

Evey covered her mouth to muffle her sobs and slowly moved towards V, not believing.

"R-ight," she choked.

"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition."

"V, shut up," she said and tackled him, both of them tumbling into the nearest wall. She lifted his mask with blurry eyes that could not see entirely, found his lips with her fingers, and kissed him. She kissed him until she could no longer, but only pulled back and breathed a moment before kissing him again.

She molded her body against his and kissed him with no rest. He held her and tears fell down her cheeks, into the kiss. Both of them tasted the salty liquid and V pulled back eventually, his gloved hand coming up to hold her cheek.

Evey leaned into the leather but stopped for a moment. She took both of his hands and slipped the leather gloves off. She felt the back of his hand's with her fingers. The skin there was uneven and coarse but nonetheless she brought one of his open palms to her lips and kissed it. Guiding his hand with her own, she put his palm against her cheek and leant into it.

"Beautiful," she said with a choked laugh that turned into another sob. She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest.

"I missed you, Evey," V said, his hands soft but firm against her back.

…

A/N: So there we go. I left it a bit cliché and I'm not at all sorry. I did have a different second chapter written that I was going to post along with this would-be third chapter but I didn't like it and I thought it was a tad unnecessary. I also really did not feel like elaborating on how the government changed, nor how V is still alive. It's because V (as well as Hugo Weaving) is very fucking badass and awesome. R&R~!