This story is just meant to be a bit of festive fun...it's based heavily on "My Fair Lady" which is my fave thing to watch at Christmas lol...and there are a lot of differences compared to the show so please dont kill me!! I dont own any of the characters or rights to the show!

Dedication: This story (& the small pane of broken glass!) is dedicated to my best friend who read every scene as I wrote it & provided so much support! Thankyou! xoxox


Chapter 1:

He didn't know what had possessed him to take this path, to blindly follow its weaving guidance into the fulminate heart of the city. Yet desire to escape the austere and ever watchful eye of high society drove him onwards, urging him into the sweltering domain that seemingly writhed beneath the swarms of tattered forms before spilling out unceremoniously onto the muddy banks by the river. The streets grew ever narrower as he ventured on, the decrepit houses seemingly falling over each other in their haste to open out into the dark, waste strewn alleys. Bundles of tangled cloth sought shelter in the tumbling doorways, peering out every so often to glance at him with eyes that glowed like pearls against their dusty faces, before returning to their huddled state. Suddenly conscious of his smart attire, he pulled at the knotted cravat, the silken material slipping like water against his fingers, and shoved it into the depths of his pocket. Moist mist instantly cloyed at his now bare neck and he hastily unfastened the top buttons of the dress shirt in an attempt to cool his flushed skin. An almost intolerable closeness seemed to engulf his stationary form and inhaling deeply, he fought to extricate his thoughts from the heady scents that poisoned the air. The sun had already begun its descent towards the west, yet for several minutes he remained motionless, trapped, as though in a dream.

A shout from near by roused him instantly from his reverie, the anxiety lacing the sombre tone catching his attention.

"Anne! The baby's coming! Quick!"

Turning back towards the river and the strange summons, he never noticed the small figure dart out from a darkened doorway away to his right. Hastily tying her apron behind her back, she snatched up a small pouch and hurtled towards the panicked voice. The sound of her footsteps however caused the suspended form obstructing her way to turn and step forwards with the natural consequence that she bumped straight into him.

"Excuse me, Sir," she instantly offered, her eyes widening for a moment as she registered his cleanly shaven face and dinner suit before an anguished cry drew her away and she disappeared into the shadows.

He barely heard her words; long after she had vanished from his sight, he remained, fixated, his mind recalling again and again the pattern of russet streaks that had danced across the thick coil of hair in the fading sunlight, the delicate curve of her jaw and the haunting expression of her mismatched eyes.


Even at this early hour, the narrow passages were fairly heaving with individuals jostling boldly against each other and striking loud bargains with the dubious looking merchants littering every corner. The oppressive afternoon heat had not yet settled as an impenetrable layer over the rickety structures and it was with relative ease that he fought his way through the din and approached the familiar junction of passages. Spotting a rather plump lady seated on a stone slab that constituted the front door step of a particularly weather worn building, he smiled and hastily crossed the narrow walkway towards her.

"Excuse me," he began with a slight nod of his head, "but I am looking for a young lady who lives around here. I believe her name is Anne."

For several moments she failed to stir, barely acknowledging his presence and continuing to sort the meagre stock of dark vegetables before her into a small, wicker basket. He was about to repeat his question, the impatience already rising in his countenance when she suddenly glanced up, her otherwise kindly face marred by suspicion.

"Who's looking for her?" she responded with a brusqueness that suggested she was little likely to be fooled by feeble excuses, even as her keen eye traversed his fine raiment.

Instantly comprehending the situation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. Reaching for her withered hand, he placed the precious amount into her lined palm before adding in a low voice, "I mean no harm."

A smile curled her lips, instantly lightening her features and with a youthful laugh she pointed out the alley away to the right.

"Anne lives down that way: go down far as ya can and it's the door on the left."

"Though if ya can get her to leave that dingy place, then you're a better friend than me," she called over his shoulder as he made to leave. Looking back, his brow creased in consternation yet guessing his thoughts, she merely laughed again and vanished inside, the coins jangling in her hand.


Heavy wooden beams overhung the alleyway, blocking out so much of the sunlight that to his unaccustomed gaze, it might have been twilight. Away from the bustling crowds, the silence fell as a mantle, smothering even the soft tread of his footsteps, until the very beat of his heart seemed to disrupt the peaceful serenity about him. The heady scent of dried herbs filled the air and breathing deeply, he quickened his steps until he stood before the final doorway. Sequestered away behind the row of relatively well preserved buildings, it boasted the finest attributes of sheer destitution. Damp had crept unnoticed up the walls of the structure alongside curls of ivy and at regular intervals, small, mossy tufts protruded through gaps in the stone work. The battered door stood open though whether this was by some purpose or merely its natural posture would be difficult to determine and as he stepped up into the entrance, he entirely expected a darkened, grime streaked cocoon to meet his gaze. Yet he was wholly surprised; three candles in each of the three corners bathed the lone room in an amber hue, highlighting the simple furnishings. There was no elegant upholstery on the single chair and the bed covers were riddled with holes but the well brushed floor and scrubbed table gave a distinctly homely feel to the otherwise wretched surroundings. Entirely forgetting the common courtesy of announcing his presence by a knock or call, he swiftly entered the humble dwelling, eager to discover more. The apartment however, was not uninhabited and at the sound of his footsteps, the figure that had been poring over a stack of tattered volumes instantly leapt up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How can I …."

Her voice trailed off as she recognised the stranger that had barred her way the previous afternoon. A curious yet closed expression coloured her previously flushed features even as an uncharacteristic nervousness seemed to descend upon her form. Lowering her gaze, she hastily tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ears before turning to her dull grey apron and trying to smooth the folds out of the weary, wrinkled fabric.

"It's me who should apologise," he interposed, sensing her embarrassment, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh no, you didn't," she replied quickly, raising her eyes and smiling shyly, "didn't startle me I mean. I was just…reading."

Following her gaze to the numerous books that were scattered across a small bureau, he slowly moved forward and picking the topmost, wordlessly requested permission to peruse the pages. At her reassuring nod, he bent his eyes to the slanted script, almost instantly recoiling in amazement as he recognised the substance of the text and accompanying diagrams.

"But this is…." he began, the wonder in his eyes causing a crimson blush to suffuse her cheeks, "then you are a doctor?"

"Oh no, Sir!" she immediately corrected, "not a doctor. I just help out now and again, if a child's ailing or a baby's due. Simple things."

"But you'd like to do more," he stated, closing the book and fixing her with a shrewd gaze, "wouldn't you?"

He did not require a response; the desire that burnt like coals in her eyes confirmed his suspicions and as he bent to examine the remaining books, he felt her gaze burning into his face, eagerly studying its contours and angles.

"Anne," he murmured, tracing the name she had scrawled into the inside cover of a particularly well thumbed novel, "that your name?"

Had he met her glance as he uttered this, he would have noticed the emotion flicker momentarily in her eyes before it was once again disguised and she responded neutrally, "Yes."

"Your accent," he continued after a moment's silence, finally raising his eyes to meet her expectant expression, "it's so pure."

"Yes," she replied, yet at this her voice became much softer and once more her eyes turned downward, as though afraid of what they might betray.

The sight of her young face contorted in apparent pain, the lone tear slipping down her thin cheek before she swiped it away, struck his long bereft heart and with a sigh he stepped forwards and took her hand.

"I want to help you Anne," he explained softly.

Wriggling away from his grasp, she stared incredulously at the well dressed individual before her. The satin and silks of his attire betrayed great wealth and status; the healthy glow of his skin, great abundance. Even to her young, naïve mind, the thought that someone like him should be troubled by someone as lowly and insignificant as an impoverished girl who, carried away by dreams of success frequently forgot her position and thus the dinner cooking on the stove, seemed highly implausible and the natural words burst from her lips, "But why?"

"Well I might as well do some good with the money my father seems determined to endow me with," he stated flippantly, the sarcasm a whip behind his words.

His words however, struck a fire in the previously pliable young girl before him and raising her chin defiantly, she replied acidly, "I am not so simple as you think. I will not be any man's prize."

"No!" he interjected, the blithe indifference fading from his eyes and the gentle sincerity flooding back in its wake, "no, no, I didn't mean…"

Yet at that moment, a shout accompanied by the light trip of a child's footsteps curtailed his explanation. Barely a minute later, a small, dirty blond youngster hurtled into the room and instantly seeking out his acquaintance, squealed her name delightedly before fairly throwing himself into her arms.

"Annie," he exclaimed, hugging her with all the fervour his starved arms could muster, "Ma says ya're comin' home for supper. She's makin' your favourite."

"I'd love to come," she murmured, ruffling his hair affectionately before spinning him round to face her unexpected visitor.

"Brian," she began slowly, "I'd like you to meet…."

Suddenly realising that the stranger had also failed to introduce himself, she placed her arms protectively around Brian's shoulders and steadily returned his watchful gaze. Perhaps he interpreted her action as a withdrawal for he immediately stepped forward and bending down, shook the little boy's hand.

"I'm Mr Sully," he said, "it's nice to meet you Brian."

"It's nice to meet ya too Mister," replied Brian with a giggle, turning his amused face up to hers as though educating her in the correct use of polite mannerisms.

"You can call me Sully," added the stranger, yet his glance had drifted up and was fixed unwaveringly on the eyes that had so captured his heart amidst the crowds. Sensing the words that rested unspoken on his lips, she bent down and whispering something to Brian, tenderly nudged him out of the door. This latter took off running and as the slap of his poorly soled shoes faded into nothingness, she turned away, folding her arms about herself as though as a shield from his request.

"Thank you for your offer Mr Sully, but I don't need your help. As you can see I am quite happy here."

"Please," he offered, approaching so close that she could almost feel his presence at her shoulder, "what I said before, I didn't meant it. I just want to help. I can't tell you why, I just know I want to."

When she remained silent, her posture erect and implacable, he reached out and grazed her arm with his fingers.

"At least say you'll come with me for a while," he gently urged, forcing her to meet his eyes, "there's something I want to show you."