So I've been writing a lot these past few days. I've been on vacation in a place with shitty internet connection, so the fact that I can post this right now is awesome. The good thing about the shitty internet is how much time I've had to work on my stories.

Edited: sep 6, 2014


Remy had been in the small gambling club for nearly four hours, having forgotten the stress from his meeting with Jacques that day. He was his usual self, winning game after game, flirting with the women, taunting the men. He enjoyed this, missed the New Orleans life. Sometimes, he wished he had never left his hometown, but he knew he could never permanently return.

Unknown to him, Ansa was sat at the bar, keeping an eye on his every move. She looked just like every other girl in the place, skirt just a little too short and make-up in near perfect condition; one of her talents was looking as if she always belonged in a place, and that's what made her so good at her job.

A couple different men would flirt with her, and she thought to amuse them with flirting back, allowing them to buy her a drink if they insisted (though she would simple rid of it when they weren't looking)—it was a game to her. Remy got his joy from gambling and playing with cards, Ansa got hers from playing with people, pretending to be something she wasn't.

At one point in the evening, a new man approached Ansa, a confident grin on his face. He was definitely a handsome guy, she could give him that—tall, well-toned, and tan-skinned. He was getting the attention of many women in the room. Ansa eyed him carefully as he settled in the bar stool beside her.

"I haven' seen you aroun' here befo'." He said while waving over the bartender, "It's always nice ta meet a new face."

"I'm traveling." She replied with an alluring smirk.

"Oh, outta-towner." He continued to smile at her as his eyes looked her up and down, "I'm Claude." He took a hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles delicately—Ansa had to refrain from rolling her eyes.

"Meg Carlton." She said quickly, allowing him to hold onto her hand for another moment longer. Claude ordered two drinks with names Ansa didn't recognize and soon he was handing one to her.

"This place is famous fo' these." He assured while taking a sip of his. Ansa brought the glass to her lips and allowed only a bit of the beverage into her mouth. She would admit, it was sweet and delicious and interesting, but drinking too much on the job wouldn't be in her best interest.

"I can see why." She replied and allowed him to talk for a few minutes. The whole time, Ansa's eyes kept drifting back to Remy (though she tried to keep it discreet), who never left the gambling table he was at, now with a few people standing around to watch.

"You know him?" Claude asked, pointing toward Remy. Ansa turned her attention back to the new man.

"Oh, no, I'm just watching the card games." She said innocently, adding a little shrug at the end.

"Really? You seem'ta be watchin' him quite caref'ly." Ansa, shook her head again. Claude's eyes narrowed slightly, "You don' know LeBeau?" At that, the agent's expression faltered—only slightly, and she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for Claude to catch. He grinned slightly, "Ah, so you do know 'im."

"How could I possibly know this… LeBeau, did you say?" She gave him a curious look, hoping to weaken his suspicions.

"Why don' you tell me?" He leaned toward her, causing Ansa's eyes to widen—whoever this was, he was the wrong man to be talking to.

Ansa stood swiftly, "Look, I think you're just confused—"

He grabbed hold of her arm roughly, "No, no I'm definitely not confused." After a quick glance around, Ansa made eye contact, glaring threateningly at the man. Without a word, she kicked her leg up and shoved her heel in his stomach roughly, causing him to grunt and release her as he fell from his barstool.

Ansa quickly began walking through the club, pushing past people in hopes to get out without too much attention drawn to her. But the people that were near her and Claude had all looked toward her and now, as Claude pulled himself back up from the ground, he was calling for someone. Ansa walked faster toward the exit, but the slight commotion got much attention. Particularly Remy's. He looked around curiously, before his eyes landed on Ansa as she moved to the door. She looked back to scan the crowd, eyes staring toward Claude for a few moments, before she accidentally met Remy's gaze. In a rush, she pushed open the door and disappeared. Quickly, Remy stood and dashed through the crowd to catch her, unaware of the encounter she just had.

"Chère!" He called, turning into the building she disappeared into. Ansa came to a halt and turned to face him, her expression calm, but eyes livid as they stood in the front entrance of another club, "What you done?"

"Someone got suspicious, I had to get out." She replied. Together, the two moved carefully through the people, "Called himself Claude."

Remy froze, eyes widening. He threw his gaze back to the door just as Claude and a couple other men entered. He muttered curses under his breath before he set a firm hand on the small of Ansa's back and began pushing her through the people, toward the back.

"Who is he, LeBeau?" she muttered.

"We needa ge' outta here, chère." He replied simply as he kept his head low, "We got some vis'tors from da Thieves Guild." Ansa began looking around herself carefully, eyes landing on Claude who had yet to see the pair, but it seemed a companion of his did.

"They're following us."

"Merde." The pair began to speed through the building, finding their way to the back door and pushing it open. They found themselves in an alley between two clubs, "How close were they?"

Ansa looked back up at him, "They'll be out here any second now." Remy removed his hand from her back and quickly grabbed his staff from one of the inner pockets on his trench coat, pressing a button and extending it to its full length.

"Don' let dem get a good look at ya face," he began, "We don' wan' the resta the Guild knowin' about ya."

"Too late for that." Ansa muttered, but nonetheless pulled two hand staffs from somewhere under her dress (Remy didn't exactly want to know how she hid those). The door began to open quickly as Ansa jumped up onto a fire escape, just narrowly getting out of their sight. The four men approached Remy, all giving him menacing looks.

"Been a while, Remy." One of Claude's accomplices said simply, "Now, what you doin' back 'ere?"

"Good to see ya 'gain, Ansel." Remy replied while firmly holding his staff.

"An' where's that girlfriend of yers? Scared her away like all the othas?" Claude asked, grinning largely, "She was qui' feisty."

With a raised eyebrow, Remy looked up for a moment, getting the men to turn suspiciously to see whatever got his attention. Before they could see anything, though, Ansa jumped down onto one of the four, a rough 'smack' heard as her staff hit him across the face. In a flurry, the others began to pull out weapons as Remy grabbed his deck of cards, charging a handful and throwing them quickly. Ansa tumbled out of the line of fire as she gave Remy a look.

"A warning next time!" She said firmly while the other three Guild members recovered from the hit. Remy grinned as he ran toward them, smacking Claude's knees out from under him with the staff. Ansa also ran into the fight, jumping gracefully onto Ansel's back and pressing her hand staffs painfully against his throat. Remy focused on the other two, fighting both at once while Ansa choked the large man. Remy shot out more cards, harming his opponents briefly.

Swiftly, Ansa threw a knife at one, shooting it into his knee which caused him to release a scream of pain. He fell to the ground, giving her enough time to go at him, rendering him unconscious in seconds. As she did so, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder and she snarled. She looked over her shoulder to find the last man unconscious.

"Damn it, LeBeau, tell me that wasn't one of your cards." She said in pain. Remy jogged to her side, taking a look at her injury.

"My 'pologies," he said simply as he looked around, "We shoul' get outta here before somethin' worse happens." With a groan, Ansa stood and began to walk quickly with him, though she had a slight limp to her step.

Once they got back to their hotel, Ansa walked to the bathroom to get a better look at her shoulder. She turned and pushed her hair out of the way, noticing that she also had a decent scrape on her thigh, though it wasn't nearly as bad as what happened to her shoulder, "This is what I get for wearing a dress with half a back…" Remy chuckled some, but held his hands up defensively as he received a glare from the woman.

"I said I was sorry, chère." He replied and walked up behind her, "I didn' expect it ta hit you, let alone harm you like dat." Ansa continued to glare at him in the mirror before she walked into her room. Remy followed swiftly, keeping his eyes on her, "It's not gon' need stitches, is it?"

Ansa scoffed, "Definitely not." She said, getting a first aid kit from her bag, "Still gonna need to be tended to." Ansa walked to the large mirror in the bathroom again and began pulling some supplies from her kit.

"You gon' need help wit' dat?" Remy walked up to her, studying the injury he caused. With cold eyes, Ansa looked up at him, but after a moment she nodded.

"Injuries on the shoulder are tough to take care of on your own." She said simply. She went to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub as Remy stood close. He picked up the rubbing alcohol and a towel as she dug in the kit a little more.

"Jus' tell me if I'm doin' somet'ing wrong." Ansa pulled at the dress as best she could to keep it out of the way while Remy poured alcohol on the cloth in his hand. As Remy worked, he found his eyes roaming the skin of her back; being able to feel how soft it was didn't help him much; he didn't need to be getting distracted. But as he kept looking her over, he could have sworn he saw a tattoo peeking out on her side, causing him to grin. He quickly shook himself out of it—he just needed to finish taking care of the wound.

It didn't take very long to finish and soon Remy had put a bandage over her shoulder blade. Ansa turned to look at him.

"Well… now you can get out." She said simply, causing Remy to grin.

"How sweet of ya." He replied as he began heading for the door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder for a brief moment, "You're welcome, chère." He was soon gone, leaving Ansa to relax.


Now that I have so much more written, I might be able to post a little quicker. But I'm lazy and forgetful and who knows when I'll suddenly be hit with writer's block. But before that happens, I plan to write as much as I can.