Well, this is a one-shot about Rogue and Remy - I can't bring myself to call her Anna, don't know why.

A sort of love story even if it's not obvious. To be honest this might startle you, frustrate you a little, it depends on you, but well if I can understand it maybe others will too =)

I start from the point that everybody has different taste, the same goes for reading.

Anyway, I hope you'll like it, and review - I would love to know what you think about it. Please be indulgent towards my English, I'm French =p

Enjoy your Reading!

Elie

( This is AU )

So What?

Was he going to spend the night his ass stuck to that seat? Hell yes, and the barman's glares wouldn't change anything. Remy took his third drink but didn't bring it to his lips. He was bored to death. Earlier in the day, the idea of having some beers to relieve him of the mess his day had been had helped him bearing with the situation, however now that the precious liquid was within reach, Remy knew it wouldn't change anything, first because all his problems would still exist, then because he didn't want to spend all his money in that bar – being glared at wasn't something he appreciated when all he wanted was some peace.

'Two more and I move,' he decided. Five beers wouldn't be enough to get him drunk, far from it in fact, but he would have to choose better for the next bar, one in which the barman wouldn't be – or at least try to be – threatening would be more pleasant.

He could tell that place was for people who wanted to drink in peace without being disturbed by drunkards. 'Don't worry homme, I'm leaving soon.'

Perhaps he would go to a club rather than a bar. Sensual bodies moving against each other, alcohol getting everybody totally sinful, yeah a club would do better.

Running the family business wasn't a mere fishing party, dealing with all the deals, the enemies, making sure all the works were well done in time... God it was so much better when he didn't have to put his nose in the functioning of the family! 'I'm worn out and I'm not even doing it alone, won't ever,' he hoped.

The door opened, getting his attention back to reality. He watched without much interest as a young man walked to the bar, stopping to each occupied table on his way and so stopping near him too.

"Sorry to bother but did you happen to see her?" the young man asked him with a strong accent.

'Must be German,' Remy thought before looking at the photo held in front of his face. It was a very good shot of a young woman dressed in a black leather vest, dark green tank top and tight dark jeans. She was smirking, pride and delight could be detected in the emeralds which were her eyes, partly hidden by white and brown locks. She was a true beauty, and he immediately regretted not to have crossed her path.

"Sorry, homme, didn't see her around," he nonchalantly answered.

"Shit!" the man cussed before collapsing on the stool face to Remy. "The city isn't so big!"

Remy merely raised an eyebrow at the man's behaviour.

"I mean, she can't have disappeared like that! I mean it's not like her it's..." he clenched his fists. "Who am I kidding! It's totally like her! Kitty will kill me! Oh man I'm totally dead!"

Remy hesitated a little, on one hand he had a peaceful – well from his point of view – night waiting for him, but on the other, he had to admit he would like to meet the beauty. Perhaps, he could help the man and... 'Totally screw up with the girl. If she doesn't want to be found, and you help, well, might as well going directly to get other girls.'

The stranger suddenly looked at him. "Shit! I disturbed you, didn't I? Sorry man! I screw everything! Well, have a nice night!"

Remy didn't like the guilt which spread through his body as he watched the young man leave. 'It's not your business. Not your business,' he silently repeated.

"Need some help?"

'What don't you understand in it's not your business?' he scolded himself.

The young man's head suddenly jerked towards him. "Really? It'd be great!" he exclaimed while sitting back on the stool. "You see she's Rogue, my sister, well half-sister, but it's the same, isn't it? Well, well, tonight we argued a little, or rather I couldn't stop nagging her and she, well, it's obvious she left."

He spoke so quickly and with such a strong accent that Remy thought he would never succeed in understanding anything. And when the teenager finally seemed about to stop... 'Oh god did he never breathe?'

"I know she is old enough to take care of herself, but, but, when she is angry, who knows what she can do? I mean if she drinks too much, if she meets bad guys, if she... I need to find her! I... oh sorry! I haven't introduced myself, I'm Kurt and you?"

He flashed Remy a sheepish smile. "Remy-"

"Cool! Well Remy, do you know your way around here?" Kurt asked. "Because honestly I don't-"

Remy sighed, not paying attention to what Kurt was saying. He knew he shouldn't have talked. The teenager had only quarrelled with his sister and now wanted to find her in order to make amend. 'I don't have anything to do in that business.' It was time he got out of that mess. 'If only I have kept my mouth shut.'

"Look," he cut Kurt off, "I do know my way around here, but how old is your sister? She will have some fun tonight and then come back."

"But you said you'd help-"

"I thought it was a situation more complicated, this is only a small quarrel between siblings. It's not a big deal."

Remy was sorry for Kurt – where did that feeling come from?, but if the woman was sane and had left by her own will, well who was he to mess up with her plans?

"I'm sorry homme, it's not Remy's business. Shouldn't have said anything. Be patient, she will come back."

"I know," he heard Kurt sigh while he was walking away, "I just can't help it."

Remy left the bar – not forgetting to pay his bill, with the image of Kurt's sister still in his mind.

'What a fool, my fun night has almost been screwed.' Perhaps he would meet the girl on his way, perhaps he- he shook his head, chasing away those thoughts.

Rain was falling hard on the empty streets, making all the bars and clubs appealing, even the worst looking building, being a dry place, would have some success with such a weather. However, Remy didn't want to have fun in a dry place only, he wanted quality – some good music, sexy dancers, strong alcohol – and knew exactly where all these elements would be reunited.

His steps led him to a narrow alley, where rubbish and broken bottles were piling up, almost hiding the black door he lightly knocked to in a special rhythm.

He was used to that club, as much as the staff was used to seeing him, even without the code, Remy Lebeau would have been able to penetrate that place where tons of people dreamt to be.

The club was famous for its strong alcohol, delicious cocktails, awesome music and dancers. Teenagers talked about it – but weren't allowed in it – young adults tried to get in it at any price – however that price was often too high to really be paid. The chosen ones were, well, riches, famous, or complete strangers who – in other clubs – had made a strong impression on the staff members out to bring back customers.

There were always new faces each time Remy came to spend the night.

He sat by the bar, waiting for the barman to serve his drink while studying the crowd. He slightly grimaced over the obviously under-aged girls who were shaking their bottoms in the middle of the dance floor. How had they managed to get into the club? Looking at them a little longer he remarked the well dressed man – in his thirties – who seemed to get all the kids' attention.

Remy shook his head but didn't move. He was no hero – he hadn't refused to help the German boy in his search to save others' night. He wouldn't get them out of that man's claws. It wasn't his job to watch over innocent naïve girls, if he did that-

One of the girls suddenly screamed, the man had grabbed her bottom and was pulling her into him, licking her neck, her strength was no match for him, and as much effort as she was putting to free herself from his grip, she was getting nowhere.

"I'm not a hero," Remy whispered. Besides hadn't he got himself into a mess huge enough today already? He didn't need to go for more problems. But the screams of the girl, the tears flooding her cheeks, how could he let that happen?

He slammed down his glass on the counter.

Remy Lebeau wasn't a hero, but he wasn't a total bastard either. Kurt's case had been different. His sister would be all right, but those girls... He started to walk towards the couple, however someone reached them before him.

A young woman with brown curls suddenly stood between him and the man.

"Can't you see she doesn't like it?" Remy heard her said in a mocking tone.

"Mind your own business you bitch!" the man spat at her.

In spite of her leather vest, Remy could guess her shoulders had tensed.

"Let go of her," she spoke with a pleasant southern accent – if the accent was pleasant, the tone was, on the contrary, very dry.

"You slut how dare you!" The man threw the young girl aside and stepped towards the Southern Belle. "Who are you? Her mother! Well, it's possible after all, who knows with someone of your kind!"

Remy waited for her to retort icily, to slap him, he certainly wasn't expecting her to laugh. The man was startled too, frozen with hands in mid-aid, mouth agape. The young woman totally ignored him and turned around towards the other girls.

"You should get out of here fast girls. This is not where you belong."

"You... you are..."

The woman nodded.

"Yeah. Don't worry I won't say anything to your parents."

The girls seemed relieved. They quickly thanked her, grabbed their crying friend, and left the club as fast as their high-heels were allowing them to do.

Remy was wondering what exactly had happened, or rather why he hadn't been able to move since that woman had entered his sight.

Something about her seemed familiar.

"You! You!" the man was seething. "You!"

"Shut up." Remy jumped in surprise. That woman was going from laugh to ice in less than a second. "Clear off before I change my mind."

The threat was obvious in her voice. What her physical appearance wasn't doing – scaring the man – her voice was perfectly making up for it.

The man seemed to hesitate a moment, then his eyes suddenly widened with recognition and he disappeared without further words.

Remy could help but whistle, amazed, thus revealing his presence to the woman.

His breath got caught up in his throat when her eyes fell upon him. Beautiful dark green eyes, dangerously clever, they seemed to see through him, straight into his soul. He couldn't turn away from them.

"What do you want?" she asked in a rather bored tone.

It was as if nothing had happened, as if the woman in front of him wasn't the one he had heard laugh and seen smile at the girls. Yeah, the woman looking at him seemed different, tired, lost.

Since she wasn't moving, he decided to openly study her, letting his eyes trailing over her slender figure. Slender but firm, he could distinguish the well-drawn muscles under her tight black jeans, her abs were showing nicely where her top wasn't covering her skin, mesmerizing pale skin... He then looked at her face. Among her brown curls, white locks were delicately framing her face, setting off the colour of her eyes. Then it hit him. The white and brown locks, the emeralds,

the pride fixed in them, she was the woman on the photo! The woman the German boy had been looking for!

"Your name is Rogue?" he asked.

Even though she raised an eyebrow, she didn't seem really surprised.

"You are Rogue, aren't you? And your brother is Kurt, isn't he?" Remy continued.

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch a little.

"That little," she whispered. "How do you know him?"

"Met him in a bar, he is looking for you."

Hadn't he said he would not get involved in that man's business? Hadn't he told Kurt it was better to wait for her to come back willingly? Hadn't he had decided to spend a quiet night, away from all disturbance? What was he doing then? His behaviour didn't look like him at all. He should have walked straight to the man, freed the girl, then gone back to his stool earlier, and if that woman would have nonetheless crossed his path, he shouldn't have cared. Why had he remained motionlessly watching her exchange with the bastard?

It wasn't like him at all.

"Well, he will be looking a little longer," she stated. "Don't worry, he is a big boy."

"He is your brother."

"Why do you care?"

He froze. Good question. Why was he caring? Was he really caring?

"I-"

He was cut off by her lips... lips? He blinked several times, but her position didn't change. She had her arms around his neck, her warm lips on his, her body pressed against his. What the hell?

The contact didn't last more than some seconds, but it had been enough to create a need tormenting him from the inside.

He had to restrain himself from holding her back when she moved away.

"Don't ask. Don't care," she murmured. "I can see," her voice died down and, for the first time since he had put his eyes on her, all evidences of confidence disappeared from her face, as if she had been wearing another mask, as if she was hiding who she really was, what she really felt.

Rogue didn't know what was happening to her. The quarrel with Kurt had been bigger, harsher than usual, but she wasn't worrying over that. It would just take her longer to calm down and come back to them. She had decided to spend the night out, going from club to club – even though she hated crowded-places she felt as if it was the sole place where her mind would shut off a little.

That club had been the third she had visited tonight, neither the best nor the worst, a club among others. Fifteen minutes and she would leave again. There were still a lot of clubs she could go to. But before she could have grabbed a drink, she heard the girl scream. The way she was struggling against the older man revealed all the fear she was feeling. Usually, Rogue didn't care about that type of girls, naïve, superficial, but the tears on her cheeks wouldn't let her turn away. She would regret it if she didn't do anything.

Her body had acted before her mind could have sorted out a plan. Coming closer to them, she had identified the girls as some of Kitty's acquaintances.

She acted on instinct. It didn't matter that she was out-of-character as long as those girls were safe. They were young, they would have plenty of time to experience unpleasant situations in the future. Rogue would at least make sure they wouldn't suffer too much from this one.

The man was a coward. A known coward. She had already met him, some months ago during a night out with her friends, drunk, he had tried to grab Kitty's bottom before ending face against ground in the middle of the dance floor, Kitty shouting angry words at him while she, Rogue, was sitting on his back, pulling hard on his arm to make he understood it was best for him to leave.

If it hadn't taken her long to recognise him, he, on the contrary, understood only after having fixed her quite intently.

Busy with getting rid of the coward, Rogue hadn't remarked they had had a spectator – while the other persons in the club had kept dancing. She had only acknowledged him after hearing his whistle.

Once she had settled her eyes on him things had stopped going normally. His eyes, quite unusual – red on black – captivated her. Tall, muscular, handsome – everything in his attitude showed he was aware of that – dangerously seductive... if she was the kind of woman to fall only about looks.

She didn't know why she talked to him, she could have simply ignored his presence, but she asked anyway. The time he spent studying her allowed her to adopt her usual I-don't-care-about-anything face. Fortunately, because when the answer came, it wasn't what she had expected at all.

How did he know her name when she was certain she had never met him before – else she would have remembered his eyes - ? She managed to keep her shock for herself – at least she hoped. Her lips were more difficult to control when Kurt's name was voiced. Her brother was looking for her. It wasn't really surprising, she could see him going from bar to bar, her photo in his hand, heckling every person crossing his path. He would never get to her, but each time they quarrelled he would nonetheless go after her. 'Sweet of him,' she sincerely thought, even if she found it slightly ridiculous she did appreciate the attention.

Perhaps she would go back sooner finally. Well, first she had to get rid of that strange man - if only she could turn away from his eyes. Those eyes, shining through the darkness of the club, were filled with incomprehension. She interrogated him although it was obvious he didn't know himself why he was acting thus. He was lost. She looked deeper into his eyes. He was lost, really lost, and not only about his behaviour towards her. He was lost, like her.

Warmth started to spread inside her.

What was happening? Why was it happening? She saw him struggle with his thoughts but, when he was finally about to speak, she cut him off by kissing him. She literally threw herself at him, locking her arms around his neck, pushing herself to him. His body was as firm as his clothes were making it appear. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the shock on his face.

What was she doing here, in the middle of a crowded club, clinging to a stranger, kissing him – not passionately but her lips were nonetheless on his, what was happening to her?

The contact didn't last more than five seconds, but she had to force herself to move away from him.

"Don't ask. Don't care," she almost pleaded. "I can see-"

She couldn't say more. What could she see? The fact that he was lost? The fact that the incomprehension was obviously mutual? The fact that their situation looked like a big joke?

They didn't know each other – he had met her brother, but that didn't count – and yet she seemed unable to walk away from him, was she fearing she might never see him again? Why did she care?

"I-"

Her words died in her mouth when his arms pulled her to him. His hold was firm on her waist, as if he was preventing her from going away. Their eyes met. Her incomprehension met his. What were they doing? What was happening?

"I don't know," he finally answered. "I don't know why I care – I shouldn't – I don't know why I can't turn my eyes away from you, it's impossible really, I don't know but," he tentatively caressed her cheek, "but I... damn I don't know how to explain it I-"

She put two fingers on his lips. She didn't want their situation to be explained. The warmth she was feeling in his arms made her legs shake. How could she feel so at ease when in his arms? She didn't want to know. Secrets took a big part in her life. Secrets about her birth, her childhood, her family. She was surrounded by them. One more wouldn't hurt her. The secret about their meeting, about what was happening between them. It was one she would gladly accept because, for once since a long time, she was feeling safe, as if she was right where she belonged to. It was stupid really, how long would it last anyway?

But Rogue would care later she decided then tip-toed to reach his lips again. If he agreed, she would stay close to him.

Remy didn't try to argue with himself. He was waiting for her to decide what would happen next. He knew he didn't want her to leave his arms. He would think about why later. Right now wasn't the time. Right now he would take what fate had in store for him without asking any question.

Her soft lips on his told him she had also decided not to fight. And if she agreed, he would stay close to her. It didn't matter they were stranger to each other. It didn't matter they had just met. What mattered however, was the need they both felt to hold onto the other.

Her hands tangled in his unruly hair while his explored her back.

Two lost souls had met.

They couldn't deny the attraction between them, the need to touch the other, the desire to remain close, not to let go of that person.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked when forced to part from her because of the need of air.

She shook her head. "No."

He smiled. "Me neither."

"We are crazy," she murmured, her eyes not leaving his.

"Totally," he acquiesced.

"I don't even know your name," she remarked.

"Remy."

"Nice to meet you."

"The same goes for me."

She sincerely laughed then asked, "We will try to understand later, won't we?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. His action made her blush. More than the kisses they had shared, that action was embarrassing her by the tenderness it conveyed. And she knew, the moment his lips touched her forehead, that she wouldn't let him disappear like that.

It was strange, crazy, unreasonable, they were strange, crazy, unreasonable...

So what?

The End