Okay, I know that the next update is supposed to be Fade but it's taking so damn long

Okay, I know that the next update is supposed to be Fade but it's taking so damn long! Besides which, it's not nearly so much fun to write ;)

So without further Ado…..

Shatter Star

Two months later…

Remy strolled casually into the conference room, delighted over the gradual development of his relationship with Rogue.

The past two months she'd seemed to warm a little more to him. She smiled and laughed, knocking back every suggestive and inappropriate comment with a smile and the occasional one of her own.

She was flirting with him. And despite the fact that he was more convinced than ever of her real identity, he loved every second.

Remy was no fool. He knew that something dangerous was stirring beneath the surface of his soul. But he couldn't stop himself from being near her – apart from his casual disappearance at night time (he didn't trust himself quite that much) – and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when he pictured the look she'd give him before he'd leave.

His heart swelled at the memory of their most recent cosy encounter.

Only to sink when he saw the look on the raven haired woman's face.

Wanda Maximoff was an unusual breed of woman, who led an unusual way of life. Abandoned by her father at the age of twelve, she'd grown up despising the male gender, and Remy often felt as though he were the outlet of that. He had to admit though; he had respect for any woman who could work her way up from nothing in a male dominated world with her honour intact, especially one as lovely as she.

She rested her head on long, slender fingers that were knotted under her chin. Her navy eyes were narrowed in her porcelain face as she arched one jet eyebrow and swept a strand of glossy black hair from her shoulders.

Remy often thought she looked like snow white, especially garbed - as she so often was – in a deep scarlet dress that, though practical, did nothing to hide her very womanly figure.

She smiled – a dangerous sign.

"Mr. Lebeau…how wonderful of you to finally join me."

Yes, Remy thought, Snow White's looks – with none of her sweetness.

He grinned at her, "Apologies, Belle, I 'ad a li'l trouble wit' a new slave."

He knew that his nickname for her would irk her just as much as the comment of the slave. Having been so low once herself – and still could be referred to as such - Wanda hated the term.

He chuckled slightly when she shook her head at him in disgust – he loved to wind her up and push all those little buttons…

"Quoi?" He gasped, feigning shock, "are y' no' gon't' rise f'r y' superior?"

"Gladly." She replied, voice dripping with disdain, as she glanced up from a pile of papers she'd brought with her, "If you would be so good as to point one out."

He tutted good-naturedly, "Dat ain' no way t' show good breedin' Chere."

"My goal in life. However if you insist, then I shall merely mention that had you been twenty minutes earlier, you'd have seen me walk into the room."

He winked, "'Fraid I forgot y'? Don' y' worry none Chere – y' know Remy'd go 'neywhere t' see y' Belle face."

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, giving him the impression she was mentally counting to ten, "You know I'd really rather speak to your brother."

"Oho, I bet y' woul'."

She gave him an acid look, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged and tilted his head at her, "Not'in' at all. Jus' that before Mon frere got married, y' an' he used t' spend an awful lot o' time locked up 'n here toget'er."

She flushed, and he had the feeling it was more from anger than anything else, "If that is a slight against my honour-,"

"'f course't ain'." He replied, all the while smiling in a way that told her that that was exactly what it was. "I was jus' commentin' on y' apparent fondness for mon frere."

The look she gave him said it all, she took a deep breath, "Look, I just want to get this over and done with. This is a rather urgent meeting and I have several appointments to attend."

He just smiled, and sat down across from her.

"You will probably know all about the tragedy of a few months ago-,"

"Non."

Wanda levelled him with a disbelieving look, "Well to bring you up to date then, my princesses' cousins' home was ransacked during the night and the only female inside was kidnapped."

"Dat's awful."

"Yes," She paused, searching his face for a long instant, "To be frank Mr.-"

"Remy, Belle, please"

"-Lebeau, we have recently heard of an accusation – and have uncovered proof, that members of your family were inside the building at the time of the incident."

Remy smiled at her, "We 'ad recently 'eard dat dere would b' an attack on y' young princess Anna's life. As't was unlikely dat y' crown princess –'owever close she an' I are-," he added bitterly, "-would believe us, we decided t' intercept ourselves."

"And you saw no sign of her?"

"None't all."

Navy eyes narrowed, "And you took nothing for yourselves?"

"'m sure 'n intelligent young fille like y'self woul' 'ave gone t'rough de catalogue an' realised dat dere ain' nothin' gone a t'ief would take."

"Not even something like a…'new slave'?"

He chuckled, but inside, something niggled at him, the question was too apt, too close. "Y' t'ink we were gon' let a few o' good men 'n women die f'r not doin' dere duty when dey coul' provide us excellent service?"

"I want to speak to them."

The uneasy feeling deepened and he stood, signalling their meeting over. "'m 'fraid dat's out o' de question."

She stood too, "They might know where she is!"

"Y' t'ink we 'aven' asked dem?"

She narrowed her gaze, "Your hiding something."

He nodded, "Mon distaste f'r dis meetin'. Now 'f y'll excuse me."

Wanda let out a frustrated breath, snatching up the papers she'd brought with her. "My princess sends her affection."

He chuckled, appraisal almost admiring, "What a cool liar y' are."

The side of her dark red mouth pulled up involuntarily, and she ducked her head so he couldn't see. When she was half out the door, he called her, and she turned.

"Why are y' here now? What proof is dere dat we 'ave 'er?"

The grin across her face was wicked, and she made to leave again.

"Inform y' lovely princess Belle, dat 'er beloved will n't rest till he knows 'er cousin is lyin' in a nice, warm bed, safe an' soun'."

She sneered at him, shook her head.

"Give 'er mon love."

"I don't think I am that good a liar Mr. Lebeau."

He chuckled as she left him in a sweep of Scarlett, what she didn't know is that he wasn't lying – he would do anything to make sure that Princess Anna was safely abed.

With him.

XxxxxX

Wanda left the room in stealth, casting a cursory glance down the hallway before heading in the opposite direction of the foyer.

Wanda was an uncomplicated person, contrary to very popular belief, she woke up, did her job well and went back to bed – her life in a nutshell.

The fact that she'd managed to stay atop of the ladder her whole adult life, seemed to both surprise and irk the male gender – particularly those in her rank.

She didn't owe, she got what she had relying on no-one but herself, and she loved that.

But even the strongest need a little help in getting anywhere – blind ambition doesn't feed. And so it was, that at the tender age of fifteen she found herself cleaned up the best she could after a month living on the New Orleans streets and begging to get by, at the door of Marius Bordeaux after hearing through word-of-mouth the death of their guild relations manager.

And it was there, after being turned from the door by some stuck up maid, she met AnnaMarie, a green-eyed vision a year younger then herself, who recognized a kindred spirit in the scruffy, raven haired urchin that had been grinding the pretty pink flowers in the ground outside with the heel of her shoe.

Almost before Wanda knew it AnnaMarie had secured allies in her elder brothers Kurt and Warren, and argued with Marius herself in order to ensure her new friend a place on his staff.

In six months, Wanda had secured the job she'd originally come to beg for.

And although Wanda didn't owe anything to anyone, she'd readily die for AnnaMarie if the need arose.

So when Kurt – fully aware of Wanda's devotion to his only sister - came saying he'd had a message from his missing sibling and needed someone to 'talk some sense into her'. Wanda had been blackmailed into skulking around the mansion of thieves.

She only hoped Scott had got AnnaMarie her message.

Twenty minutes later, Wanda knew she had worried in vain. Scott's directions to the small garden had been accurate, and the back of her friend's platinum-streaked auburn locks were easily visible from her seat on the bench.

Inwardly, Wanda breathed a sigh of relief. It had little mattered to her that Scott had given his word, fear for her friend was almost all-consuming, and although she shown effect of it to know one – she knew Kurt had guessed it's presence in her eyes.

Stealthily, she approached the still figure seated before her, and though she made no sound, she knew AnnaMarie knew she was there.

"Rogue, I presume?"

Anna stood, smiled at her, "Indeed Ah am."

Wanda sighed. "What the hell do you think your doing?"

"What happen' ta all those manners Ah taught ya?"

"They vanished the day my best friend did."

Anna bit her lip, and had the decency to look at least a little shamefaced, "Ah'm sorrah Wanda, Ah know this has been real hard forh everyone-,"

Dark eyes narrowed on the white and green patterned gossamer dress, "You don't look to be doing too bad."

Anna sighed, sank back to the stone bench. "Ah know what ya wan'-,"

"Of course you do. It's the same thing everyone in your family wants."

"Ah think mah father's here."

The words were whispered, barely audible over the sigh of spring wind, but they're impact could not have been greater.

"What? Here?"

Her friend nodded, "Everythin's a li'l too coincidental forh it not ta be him."

Wanda sank down beside her, "Rogue, you know what the chances are."

Leaf green eyes bored into Wanda, willing her to understand, desperation lowering the voice to a husky breath, "But there's still a chance."

Wanda let go a disbelieving laugh, eyes darting round the garden that was just bursting into life, turning shocking blue when faced in the direction of the light, "This is madness."

Anna smiled, tilted her head, auburn locks pooling across her shoulders, "Ah've won haven' Ah?"

Her dark friend gave her a stern look that was soft beneath the surface, "I know how much parentage means to you. And although your brother will roast me alive, I'm giving you a reprieve. Two months, and I mean what I say when that is it."

Anna nodded, knowing it was the best she could hope for, then cheekily she grinned at her, "Tha' boy asked ya ta marry 'im yet?"

Wanda stood, "This is not a social visit."

"He did!"

"Yes, he did. And he never will again."

Anna shook her head, sighed, "He coulda been the love o' yohr life."

"I still would not have married him, as you well know."

Her friend laughed, then looked around, "It's about tihme our little interlude was over. Though Ah am glad ta see ya. Ah daresay ya've memorised th' way ouht?"

At Wanda's nod, she smiled, then sighed, "Well Ah gotta beh somewhere. So…" At the last minute, Anna swept her best friend into a hug that left them both shocked, Anna was not a physical person.

Then with one last smile, and a sweep of green skirt, Anna had gone, and Wanda began to make her own way back to the outside.

Halfway along a corridor adorned on both sides by heavy, intricate tapestries, Wanda heard footsteps approaching her from around the sloping hallway, she made to double back, but the telltale rattling of a tray signalled the arrival of a maid in the opposite direction.

Stuck, Wanda searched for windows – but if there were any, the tapestries covered them, and she couldn't see a gap in which to duck behind them either. A child's voice sounded from ahead. Because of the curve of the walls, she was hidden for the instance, but the footsteps were growing closer.

Suddenly, before she knew what was happening, a strong, calloused hand gripped her forearm and yanked her into a cleverly disguised gap that covered a tiny alcove, just big enough for her and her 'saviour' to cower in as he twitched the tapestry back to place.

Wada had just enough time to catch the violent orange hair and dark green eyes before the heavy fabric blocked out most of the light, and the man pressed himself so close to her a lesser woman probably would of screamed.

And judging from the hand pressed against her lips, he clearly thought she still might.

"Allowed me to apologise for the proximity, Shelia, something tells me you're not enjoying it as much as I am."

She glared at him, though she hardly thought he could see it in the dim light. She had no doubt; however, that he was enjoying it, the smile in his lightly accented voice told her enough.

She held her tongue however, and desperately tried to ignore the heady cloud that had seemed to descend upon her senses, and the way her body tingled every place that he touched her – and that was far too many places to count.

"Maman-,"

"Quoi did I jus' say Petite?"

"Pere woul' let me."

"Oh y' reckon so?"

"Please!"

"Bon Matin Tessa."

"Miss."

"Maman-,"

As the voices died away, Wanda realized her captor didn't seem to feel obliged to moved at all. Tilting her head, she realized he was gazing at her. She opened her mouth to abuse him, his sanity, his proximity, anything, but instead all that came out was-

"Thank you."

She felt, rather than saw him smile. "S'ok. I had plans to help out some astonishingly beautiful woman today anyway."

To her embarrassment, Wanda felt her cheeks flush. She'd been told she was beautiful before, but no one had ever made her feel that their words were really meant.

It was different, and it unnerved her.

"As I hardly think your going to tell me what you're doing here, and I'm already part of whatever crime, allow me to suggest another way out."

"Thank you."

He smiled. And this time she got the full effect of his gorgeous face as he parted the tapestry and a bar of light fell across his face, adding flame to his wild hair and lighting his eyes. He took her hand, and her fingers tingled, she stared at the spot his flesh connected to hers as he pulled her down the hall.

She barely acknowledged the passage entrance, or registered her wonder that he could know so much of the building. She was too busy listening to the weird things he was saying to himself, the cackling laugh. Too busy watching the deliberate grace of his stride, the crazy amusement in his face, feeling the kindness he showed her.

Kindness was something she hadn't had from a man in a very long time.

Eventually Wanda realized that the soft fingers of wind were pushing through her hair, and sunlight graced her face. They stood in a small, sheltered piece of woodland, and, looking back, Wanda noticed that a seemingly immovable wall had slid into place over the passage.

She turned back to meet sparkling green eyes dancing with something she couldn't name.

"Even prettier when I can see you."

What had come over her? Cold, impersonal, Wanda Maximoff, reduced to mush because of some Australian stranger with a crazy sense of humour?

And an enemy Australian at that?

Madness.

But as her rescuer leaned forward, she felt herself longing for his lips to touch hers.

Thankfully, the fresh air seemed to revive some of the sense she previously lacked.

"Thank you." She breathed, realizing as she did that is was the third time she'd said the same thing.

His lip quirked in answer, he had realized it too.

"So I guess now is when you make your hasty escape?"

She laughed. Really laughed.

"I want to see you again."

Wanda recognised she wanted the same. She smiled, "I'll make sure you do."

He extended his hand. "John."

She took it, "Wanda."

"An assassin?"

"Not right now."

"Ah."

Awkwardness, something she hadn't felt in a while. "Uh-,"

"Thank you?"

This time she knew he saw her glare, but it made him chuckle, "Think you can make it home from here?"

She nodded, slightly irked, "I could have handled it back there."

The green eyes pierced her, "I'm sure you could have. But then when I go to meet you at the Saturday market, you might not even be there."

The grin was wicked, "Maybe I still won't."

He laughed, "I'm willing to take that chance."

And as Wanda turned away, the smile on her face genuine, she knew that she was too.

XxxxxX

There ya go – no Romy, but some Johnda!

I know I made Wanda and John really out of character, but in every fic I've read – it's him chasing her really cool-headed self. I just wanted to be original and even up the score :D

Really sorry about John's lack of accent by the way – but it was hard and even I didn't know what he was talking about!

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