Well I should have tried to post this a bit sooner. I would say I was busy, but I had enough free time in my schedule to post... I guess the only thing I can say is sheer laziness is my problem. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this; I got some ideas laid out and my computer is just waiting to get some more use!

Edited: sep 5, 2014


Agent Lindström sat uncomfortably in her small seat on the airplane taking her and Remy to Louisiana; she would have suggested on taking one of the agency's helicopters or jets, but Director Stoner insisted it was best to keep as much attention from them as possible. And the best way to keep a low profile was being as publicly normal as required. So, here she sat—an "every day" woman traveling with her husband-

"No, chère, this can't be our cover." Remy said as he shook his head exaggeratedly while taking the papers from her hand, "We're goin' ta Nawlins, people know me there, we can' just pose as some married couple." Agent Lindström sighed lightly as she rubbed the back of her head in frustration—this man's accent was really starting to get to her. But maybe that's because she hasn't exactly encountered anyone from New Orleans before. Or maybe because it was simply him, "Look, chère, ya ask anyone in Nawlins who the LeBeau family is, they tell ya 'bout my fatha' and 'bout me—e'ryone in the city know us."

Agent Lindström rolled her eyes, "Fine, okay, but what do you suggest we say 'bout me, hmm? If they know you, then they'll wonder who the hell I am."

"Easy," Remy glanced around the plane cabin quickly, "I been gone a while, ya can be a frien' of mine ta some, and ta others who know 'bout ma history, ya can be a business partner." There was a stiff silence between the two for a few moments, "When we land, call ya directo' and tell 'im 'bout the change of plan."

Once more the two were silent as the mingle of voices around them filled the empty space. Agent Lindström went over their plans in her head—she reviewed what Director Stoner had planned for them, she went over the paperwork, and now she went over the changes they had to make. Remy tried to find something to occupy his mind; he had his feet obnoxious up against the seat in front of him and kept his attention on his fingertips, where he formed the small purplish-red spark that could cause so much damage. Out of the corner of her eye, Lindström caught sight of Remy and quickly turned to him, wrapping her hands quickly around his.

"Stop!" she hissed between her teeth as her eyes scanned around at all the faces occupying the plane, "We can't afford to have someone see you." Remy let out a chuckle.

"Chère, stop bein' so paranoid." He pulled his hand from Agent Lindström's hold.

"Then stop with your powers; if you blow this, I swear…"

Remy rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses he wore (which Agent Lindström insisted on, hoping not to bring unwanted attention to his eyes), "If ya insist, chère."

"And stop with that 'chère' stuff." The two stared each other down for a few moments.

"Ya're a stickler; loosen up a bit, would ya?" Lindström shook her head slightly before looking back ahead of her, "… So, do I get ta learn yer name or anythin' at all about ya?" she took a glance out of the corner of her eye at Remy, who gave her an expectant look, "I assume ya already know e'rything 'bout me."

With a final sigh, Lindström turned some in her seat to give Remy her attention, "My first name is Ansa."

"Anythin' else?"

"Does anything else matter?"

"We're workin' together."

"… I'm from Finland." Remy looked at her surprised.

"Ya sound American ta me, chère." Ansa's jaw clenched lightly.

"I lost the accent years ago; I've been in America since I was a child." She replied as she looked around herself.

"That it then—nothin' else?" Ansa shook her head.

"Don't get used to learning things about me." Remy watched her for a few moments longer, "We're only going to be partners for this—after that, it won't matter."

The rest of the flight was painfully silent as the two went about doing their own things—once or twice Ansa, would have to keep Remy from gaining too much attention, which would general get some string of angry French from the man, but besides that, nothing between the two.

Ansa and Remy entered their large hotel suite silently, only taking a few moments to glance around the room before leaving each other be; Remy went into one of the two bedrooms as Ansa made her way toward the small balcony so she could once again call Director Stoner; Remy was only a little jealous of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s (as he took to calling the agency, since the name was ridiculously long) fancy wireless telephones that seemed ahead of their time to him. As Remy waited on the woman, he took the time to actually give their suite a good look—this place was nice, five stars kind of nice, and he didn't know whether he loved it or hated it. The room was adorned with rich colours and expensive fabrics, accented with small touches of bright, blues and purples throughout; yes this place was nice, but Remy felt out of place. It had been too long since the last time he was anywhere this high end.

Soon, Ansa joined him in the main room and began to organize more of her fancy agency crap on one of the tables so she could have a space to work, "I just finished talking with Agent Fury—"

"Ya'r boyfrien' take ya call because ya director couldn'?" Remy mocked with an amused smile. Ansa responded with a sarcastic grin.

"Relationships with other agents are highly advised against in Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage, Law-Enforcement Division." She said simply as she sat down in one of the elegant chairs, getting a simple stare from Remy ('How could this chère even remember that name?'), "What can you tell us about the Thieves Guild?"

"But are ya attracted ta Agent Fury?"

"My relationship with Nick Fury isn't the topic at hand."

"Ooh, his name is Nick?"

"LeBeau, focus!" Ansa gave Remy a stern look, "Again, what do we need to know about the Thieves Guild?"

Remy sat silently for a few moments, thinking carefully about the group he was formerly a leader of, "It was started by a mutan' named Candra, who also started the Assassins Guild at the same time." Remy looked up at Ansa for a moment, who watched his each move and look carefully, "If ya were livin' in Nawlins from early on in ya life, chère, ya would 'ave been in the Assassins Guild, and we woulda been rivals." He gave her a grin before continuing, "She controlled us and used us for her benefaction, but she's been missin' fo' some time."

Ansa was taking small notes on what Remy was saying, which made him a little uncomfortable, but he pushed that aside to continue, "My father was Guildmaster fo' years till he passed it on ta me, but what could I possibly do as the master of an'thing?" an amused look crossed his features, "I din't want that life an'more, so I gave up my power and left."

"What kind of relationship do you have with the Guild now?" Ansa looked up at her new "partner" with a careful gaze.

"I haven't communicated with any of 'em in years; they weren't so happy with my leavin'." Remy stared at Ansa's hand as it wrote more across the paper, "What do they 'ave that your agency needs back?"

Ansa looked Remy in the eye for a few long moments, "I'm not sure if I can say." A small huff of a laugh escaped Remy.

"I think ya can; if I'm helpin' ya get whateva it is back, then I should know."

"Files." Ansa stared as she set down her pen, "Files for technologies that are beyond us. They pertain to mutant study and experimentation."

Remy's eyes widened, "Ya tellin' me you experiments on mutants?" he took a very noticeable step back as Ansa kept a calm composure.

"No, not us, someone else entirely; we want to know what he's trying to do with his experiments." She replied, "We don't encouraging any kind of experimentation without consent of the studied subject, so don't assume we're gonna offer you over to this mad scientist as soon as we're done with you."

"How do I know ya'r not lyin' ta me?"

Ansa sighed as she rolled her eyes, "Mr. LeBeau, that's not what the agency does."

"… Fine. Tell me mo' about these files."

"With those files in our possession, we kept this man from continuing his work, giving us time to try to locate and stop him; we were going to analyze what those documents contained to learn his goals and find the best way to end his work. But now that they're out of our possession, we're at a standstill. The Thieves Guild could be doing anything with those files—they could be selling them, using them for their own types of experiments—"

"The day the Thieves Guild tries ta perform experiments will be the day pigs fly." Remy interrupted with a smirk, "If an'thing, they plan to sell them or someone's asked 'em to get ahold of the files—it coulda been the man ya originally took 'em from or someone wit' similar intentions."

"Whatever the case, we need them back." The two grew silent for a few long moments, "So, we need to get into whatever is considered their headquarters and get those files back."

"It's not that simple, chère." Remy took slow steps around the room, "There ain't specific headquarters—sure, there's a usual meetin' place, but whatever valuables they obtain can be brought ta diff'rent locations. The items could be in the private safes of the diff'rent members, could be in their homes, could be an'where."

"Then how do we start?"

"I got connections 'round here; people that know people. I can ask 'round what people know about the latest news on the Guild, get a gen'ral idea o' where we can find ya'r files, and then we can find a way ta get 'em back."

Ansa stood and walked toward the window, looking down at the unique city surrounding them, "When and where do we start?"

"I'll show ya tomorrow."


I can't make any promises on my updates, but I'll do all that I can to get some more of this story posted soon.