A/N: Hi guys! Me again. So, there didn't seem to be much interest in the last chapter - judging by the fact that it only got 2 reviews lol. I'm not too sure whether that is due to people losing interest or if chapter 10 was just exceptionally boring. Anyway, I hope this chapter is more popular (hint, hint) but if the story continues to lose fans, I might have to abandon it. But, fear not; if I do decide to take a small hiatus from this fic, those of you who are following the story will be given plenty of notice & explanations.

Anyway, rant over. On with the story! Ummm… so this chapter pretty much focuses on Pietro and the dynamic of his relationship with Rogue. Oh and just a word of warning; Pietro (at the moment, hint, hint) will be known as Pietro Lensherr - rather than Pietro Maximoff. However there is an explanation for this, that will be made apparent in subsequent chapters.

Enter Pietro!

Disclaimer: *Looks innocent* I didn't mean to steal them, honest!

The Worlds Most Handsome Man

"Handsome Man" By Robbie Williams

The Wild Roses stood by the bar, their surroundings drenched in morbid curiosity, waiting for Rogue to finish getting ready. Emma Frost had spent that entire morning being lectured by Rogue on how she needed to look after the girls tonight, and what to do if certain situations arose. She had taken the 'advice' with an air of indifference; yet, in reality, she was terrified. Emma was not as blind or unfeeling towards their situation as she pretended to be. There were far too many things that could go wrong tonight; it was the first time in four months that Rogue would not be present at the club, which would, undoubtedly, prompt two seperate reactions from their 'adoring fans'. Firstly there would be those who would feel disappointed at her absence, who were likely to become aggressive and proceed to tip poorly - or not at all - for the rest of the evening. But they were manageable - a small annoyance compared to the other half of their audience. Those customers that came under the second category were those who saw Rogue's absence as an opportunity to push their luck. It would be Emma's job to protect the other girls from the clients who tried to test the boundaries of the club's rules tonight. The problem was, Emma didn't carry as much weight as the Rogue - she hoped to God there were no problems tonight.

Remy Lebeau was currently situated at the other end of the bar, instinctively shuffling a pack of cards - their red swirled backs flashing past at an alarming rate, that matched the agitated thumping of his heart. He had no idea who tonight's 'special client' was and, quite frankly, he didn't particularly care. It was all disgusting to him; a waste of a perfect life, another stain to tarnish the memory of his Anna.

"So, like, who exactly is this guy?" Katherine Pryde piped up. She was rewarded by a round of giggles that swept through the group - a particularly devilish grin squirming onto Tabby's face.

"The one and only Pietro Lensherr…" Rather uncharacteristically, it was Jean who provided the information.

"Wait…Lensherr, as in Eric Lensherr?"

"Mmhmm." Jeans vague affirmation only increased the incredulous tone of Kitty's screech.

"Like, Oh my God; the bosses son?"

"Who just so happens to be the worlds most handsome man." It was quite alarming to hear such a wistful tone emanating from Amara's usually well-mannered mouth.

"And boy, does he know it!" It would appear that this Pietro was, yet another, victim of Emma's sharp tongue. "What kind of a man gets his father to hire him a prostitute? That family is seriously messed-up!"

"Honestly Kit; this guy is stunningly hot - he is the most beautiful man you will ever meet… Unfortunately, he just happens to have an arrogantly hideous personality!" Tabby's eyes intensified with excitement as she leant back against the bar; completely focussed on the club's entrance. "But he is great to look at…"

"Hello. Did you miss me?
I know I'm hard to resist…"

"Well lookey here; a row of beautiful women, all waiting for me…" As soon as his satin smooth voiced weaved it's way to the Wild Roses, their attention was focussed immediately on it's origin. Before them stood the god of perfection - his features smooth and stunning, his body in faultless proportion. All conversation died on their lips as his visage stole away their breath. Even the arrogant smirk, that had found it's way onto his face at their reaction, could not dim his glorious appearance. He accompanied his smirk by throwing his arms wide, to fully present his glory. "Miss me?"

"Naturally" Emma's response cut through his spell, as she made her way towards their visitor and stiffly embraced him. "Good to see you Mr Lensherr."

"God, call me Pietro…Mr Lensherr reminds me of my father!" His voice was full of laughter as he placed an arm around Emma and made his way towards the rest of the group. "Well, well, well…your all looking lovely."

"Good to see you Pietro." Tabby giggled and lent forward to deliver a quick two-kiss welcome to the young Lensherr - left cheek first; then moving back quickly and allowing Amara and Jean to follow suit. Leaving Kitty vunerable to be fully appraised by their guest.

"Ah, a new face…" Pietro's smile was full of superiority as he clasped Katherine Pryde's hands. "A simple beauty with a naive charm…I approve." His wink and cheeky-smile caused Kitty to giggle and blush profusely.

"Now, now Pietro; ya'll know better than to hassle my gals…" At the breathy southern tone Kitty's hands were dropped and all of the rooms inhabitants turned their attention to the vision bathed in light, from the stage doorway.

Once again, the Rogue's beauty far out shadowed those around her. The feminine curves of her body were encased in black satin. The dress was tight, but elegant. It sported a low-neckline - which was emphasised by the halter-neck straps - with a simple pattern of white gems below her bust. The full-length skirt pooled at her feet, the combination of her hips and an outrageous split - that reached up to the top of her right thigh, effectively exposing her creamy-flesh - caused it to drag slightly behind her. A large emerald-green stone hung from a silver chain around her neck, coming to rest between her milky breasts. Her make-up was more understated than usual - her eyes outlined in black, wrapped with mascara-lengthened lashes that made her green eyes dazzle, and a light layer of gloss to highlight those perfect lips. Her hair was pulled into an easy bun, with a few wavy strands strategically falling around her face. She was stunning, set with the light haloing her from behind her. She looked like sin; the most wonderful kind of sin.

"You always manage to out-dress me, every time." Pietro Lensherr graced the Rogue with his perfect smile - which she returned with a carefully placed beam of her own.

"Ya told me ta 'dress-up'. Ah can always change if it's too much…"

"No. No, don't you dare. I just…wow." At a loss for words Pietro offered his arm as Rogue glided across the room towards the others.

"Ah'll be back tomorrow afternoon, till then Emma's in charge…try not ta give her too hard a time." Her words were directed towards Tabby, who gave a mock salute with a smirk firmly planted on her lips.

"Well, y' certainly look the part…" Remy couldn't help it; the comment just slipped out as he watched Pietro's hand - which was supposed to be resting on her hip, to aid Rogue's balance in her heels - slip down to grope her behind.

"Not now Remy." Her tone was low and sharp, as her steely glare met his disgusted features, before being escorted out the door.

"So, who was that?" Pietro's question was laced with undisguised suspicion.

"That would be Remy Lebeau; thief and crook. He's ya father's new 'protégé'." Rogue's mocking told, practically, screamed her views on the matter.

"Ah…" Pietro nodded in understanding; his father had been careful enough to, continuously, drop his new favourite employee into every conversation he had with his son. "He seems like an arsehole…"

"Ah'd say ya'll are a pretty good judge of character."

"And I'd say that you look too damn hot in that dress." He smirked and pulled them to a halt by the wall of the club, pushing her against it, lowering his face to hers and delivering a demanding kiss to her lips. Within seconds Pietro's hands were roughly pulling her hips towards his, leaving Rogue's arms to wrap around his neck. A fiery passion, absent for four months, began to renew itself and, once again, course through his body. He was losing control as he felt her body mould to his. But, somewhere in the back of his mind a voice told him that he couldn't do this - not yet anyway. So after a few minutes, an agonising groan escaped Pietro's throat as he removed his lips from hers. "It's making me regret my plans for this evening; I just want to take you to the hotel and…" He groaned again as too many blissful images, of their previous encounters, filled his head.

"Ah'll do whatever ya want sugar." Her sultry voice whispering in his ears was not helping the situation. So, with a deep breath, he took Rogue's hand and led her towards the awaiting limousine.

"Come on. I've wasted time planning this whole bloody evening - I'm determined to see it through!" He pulled Rogue into the seat next to him and ordered the chauffeur to "Drive!"

As soon as the car started to move Pietro's hands were all over her again. Their lips met heatedly as Rogue began to deliver slow torturous caresses to those, seemingly innocent, parts of his body that she knew drove him wild. His breath quickened as he pulled her closer, craving more contact. It was always like this with her; so desperate, so intense. He moaned as her hand grazed past his crotch, sending shivers up his spine. They had just hit the point of no return, but at this moment he couldn't care less - they could go for it now and still make their dinner reservations. God he needed her. His hand groped it's way to her breast, slipping inside the material hanging from her neck until her felt her skin touch his, causing a groan of desperation to rumble through his body.

Suddenly they were thrown forward as the car made a sharp break and then swung to the right, turning the corner at an alarming rate. They slid to the side, their collective weight crush Pietro into the door handle.

"Are you alright?" Pietro's voice was full of concern as they righted themselves, once the car had settled back into a respectably smooth pace.

"Ah'm fine. What about ya?"

"Oh I'm just perfect!" Sarcasm was not an attracted look for such a handsome man. Pietro slid forward mumbling "I knew I should have insisted we have the Russian instead of that damn freak…" before tapping on the glass that separated them from the driver. It was lowered instantly to reveal a rather pleased Victor Creed. "What the hell was that?!"

"Sorry Sir, she can be a little temperamental sometimes." Creed smiled and tapped the dashboard for emphasis.

"Bullshit! There is nothing wrong with the car, it's your driving skills that are the problem." Pietro's voice was gradually getting louder, as anger engulfed him.

"If you have a complaint Sir, then perhaps you should take it up with my boss." Creed remained calm, clearly finding the situation rather comical.

"You're damn right that my father will be hearing about this! I could drive this thing better than that!"

"With all due respect, Sir, it takes a certain kind of man to handle a vehicle such as this…"

"I suppose you're right. After all, we all know what they say about men that drive big cars…Substituting for something Creed?"

"Well at least I don't have to pay for my women…" His voice had suddenly developed a gruffer resonance, signalling Creed's fury at the insult.

"You might want to try it sometime, otherwise you might never get any. It seems to me that all of your sexual frustration is affecting your driving…"

"Tell you what kid; why don't we whip them out now and measure who is more of a man?"

Bored and slightly irritated with the testosterone fuelled display, Rogue decided that it was time to put an end to their little competition. She knew that having Creed as their driver was going to cause problems; but quite frankly she would rather have him here - stewing in his own jealousy - than at the club, where she couldn't keep an eye on him. Rogue was tempted to point out how ludicrous it was for them to be fighting over her; after all, she would never willingly go anywhere near Victor Creed and she was being paid to entertain Pietro. In her eyes there was no winner in this situation. But for the sake of her own sanity, Rogue was going to have to side with the lesser of the two evils.

"Ya don't have ta, Ah've seen 'em both…and Pietro's is bigger." Rogue's harsh comment broke through the proceedings. Her sugar-sweet tones brought a smile to the young Lensherr's lips, as her hard glare bore into Creed's eyes from the wind mirror.

"…Y'all can come and help me pick the sweetcorn out of this.
It's hard to be humble
When you're so fucking big…"

"We'll be there in five minutes…Sir." Creed mumbled. The screen went up immediately, leaving Pietro to settle back into his seat pulling Rogue to his side.

"So where exactly are we goin'?" She inquired as he took her hand.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head - just be a good girl and leave the planning to me…" Rogue resisted the urge to slap Pietro, as he finished off the statement with a derogatory pat on her head.

"…Did you ever meet a sexier male chauvinist pig?…"

The pair were seated at a table-for-two in one of the more elite restaurants the city had to offer. From their entrance all eyes followed the perfect couple; the stunning beauty and her god-like man. Pietro's head was held high as he absorbed the jealous faces of the other diners. The women, already bored with their own company - whether their table companion was too old for them or simply just as disinterested as they were - were lusting after the young Lensherr. The men, their eyes easily caught by a younger model - no longer caring for their tired old wives or their gold-digging new ones - let their eyes greedily follow Rogue as she floated magnificently across the room. Pietro normally fed on such attention, but tonight required a more select setting. A quick handshake, exchanging a crisp green note, secured them a secluded table and a bottle of the finest champagne to start their evening.

"…I'm gonna milk it till I turn it into cheese
Tell your babes in arms and OAP's
Come take a piece of me…"

"Wow, this place is classy…Oh, and tha prices match tha settin', how charmin'…" Rogue frowned as she examined her menu.

"Only the best, of course. Go ahead and order anything you want; Dad's paying!" Pietro smirked impishly "I plan on having the lobster with a side order of their biggest steak, how about you?"

"Ya'll sure know how ta party Sugar…" Rogue's light giggle carried like music, attracting the attention of every male in the vicinity. "Are we meetin' some of ya friends?"

"Nope, just you and me." A light frown troubled the beauty's face for a mere second, before it was replaced by a gentle smile - offered to the waiter, who was privileged enough to take their order.

The situation was strange. Rogue had known Pietro for five years; long enough to know his habits, long enough to know his moods and long enough to understand his ways. Their relationship had changed, altered and developed accordingly throughout the years - from that of a teacher and student, to a customer and purchase and finally morphing into the peculiar dynamic of a socialite and his companion, who was to be displayed for all to see and admire. At the beginning of their relationship she would spend a few hours with him in a hotel room, as Pietro grew older those hours began to lengthen into days - until she would keep him company for as long as he was in the city - and finally she had turned into his escort - accompanying him to parties and gatherings, as an ornament to show-off to his friends and then spending the rest of their time in bed.

Yet this 'dinner-for-two' did not seem to fit with their affiliation - usually the only reason they left his hotel room was to impress his acquaintances. The whole situation wasn't right; he only wanted to see her for the one night, they hadn't gone further than a quick grope and he was wining and dining her alone. Perhaps there was something different - something wrong?

"…If you drop me I'll fall to pieces on you
If you don't see me I don't exist
It's nice to meet you
Now let me go and wash my hands…"

"…Cause you just met the world's most handsome man
The world's most handsome man…"

"Man, my trainer is not going to be happy about this!" Pietro chuckled whilst pushing his two, now empty, plates away from him.

"Ya have a trainer?" Rogue's question was one of polite interest as she daintily dabbed at her own food.

"Of course! I wouldn't have made it to the state competition if it wasn't for Mark."

"What are ya competin' for?"

"A place in the state's track team, hopefully…"

"Ya're are a runner?"

"Sprinter, actually…" He let out a low chuckle that sounded unnervingly like his father's. "You didn't know that?"

"Should Ah have?"

"…Y'all know who I am
I'm still the boy next door…"

"Well, I've been running since I was 12 - I'm pretty good, actually. If I do well at the state competition next year, I have a shot at making the team - which might even lead to a place in the Olympics, someday…but that's going to take a few years. And it means I'll have to cut down on this stuff." He swirled his glass of champagne before finishing it's contents and grabbing the bottle to refill their glasses.

"…That's if you're Lord Litchfield and Roger Moore…"

"Wow…that's really impressive. Ah can't believe Ah never knew…"

"Well, I don't suppose we really talk all that much, do we?" Pietro threw her a small smile and directed his gaze towards the table.

"We never really had tha need ta, Ah suppose." Rogue returned his smile and reached across the table to clasp his hand - bringing his eyes back to hers. "So, when exactly is this big competition?"

"Next June."

"Well, ya better call ta tell me how ya did!" The mock authority in her tone made them both snigger.

"You'll be the first, I promise…even before my dad." For a brief moment the only note displayed in Pietro Lensherr's voice, was complete sincerity - what a rare occasion this was.

"That was perfect, thank ya…" Rogue pulled Pietro's coat closer around her, in an attempt to ward off the fresh wind, as he led her towards their limousine.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Pietro noted that he seemed to be able to control himself better when her body was more adequately shielded from his view. Now he just needed to keep up-wind of her alluring scents and out of the focus of those magnificent eyes.

"So where ta now, Sugar? Back ta tha hotel?" Her question came as he climbed into the seat next to her - tapping the window to let Creed know that it was time to leave.

"Feeling a little randy, Princess?"

"Whatever ya want, Sugar…" Her voice had taken on that irresistibly sensual tone again, as she lent towards him - her hand resting a little too high on his thigh.

"Oh believe me, I do want…" He almost lost himself in her seduction, but pulled back slightly - determined to see the evening through. "But, I really don't want to miss the next part - I had to pull a lot of strings to get this sorted…and I'm kind of looking forward to it."

"So mysterious…" Rogue backed-off slightly - taking the hint; doing what she was told; playing the good hooker.

"…Have I gone up in the world
or has the world gone down on me?
I'm the one who put the Brits in celebrity…"

"A jazz club?" Rogue stared in amazement at the neon sign in front of her.

"Yep. Is there a problem - I mean, we could always go somewhere else if you would prefer?"

"No, it's fine. Ah just didn't pick ya as a jazz kinda guy, that's all."

"Well, apparently there are lots of things you don't know about me…" Pietro caved at her raised eyebrows. "Alright, you got me! I don't tend to make a habit of going to places like this - it's much more Wanda's scene than it is mine. But I was talking to St John the other day and he mentioned that it was pretty good…so I thought I would give it a try." He shrugged as though this decision had meant nothing - when in reality it had taken a lot of planning to set it up.

"Ya'll are friendly with St John?" Her disbelief was embarrassingly obvious.

"The guy's a nutcase, but he is, generally, the only one with a sense of humour at my dad's functions. It's funny what brings people together…"

"Wow, Ah really don't know much about ya, do Ah?" Rogue wondered exactly how well Pietro really knew St John. She very much doubted he realized that the pyromaniac was practically stalking his twin sister.

"He also mentioned that they have a sort of 'open-mike' thing on select nights…" Pietro shrugged again, this time a sheepish-expression capturing his features. "Usually people have to audition…but I greased a few palms and got you a slot…"

"Oh my Gawd!" Rogue's eyes lit up with an intensity that Pietro had never witnessed before.

"St John said you were a pretty good singer…"

"Oh. My. Gawd!"

"You don't have to if you don't want to…" Pietro was beginning to think that this wasn't such a god idea after all. "It's just…Well, St John said that you would enjoy it…and I kind of wanted to hear you sing so…"

"Ya want ta hear me sing?" Pietro looked so worried that Rogue couldn't help but laugh. "Ya shouldn't fret so much, Sugar! Oh course Ah want ta do it…Ah'm just shocked is all. Ya don't normally do something like this…"

"Maybe I'm finally growing-up…" He gave another shrug, before leading her towards the door and into the warmth.

"…Give in and love it
What's the point in hating me
You can't argue with popularity
Well you could…But you'd be wrong.

If you drop me, I'll fall to pieces on you
If you don't need me, I don't exist
You voted for me
Now let me see a show of hands
Here before you stands.

Can you make me laugh and sign this autograph
Though it's not for me
Flip a grin, shake a thing, name a shame
Then I'm out of here…"

"…It's not very complicated
I'm just young and overrated…"

Her back slammed against the wall as Pietro tried to unlock the door, to their hotel room, without removing his lips from hers. The club had been fun; over crowded with little private tables, in a dark room full of smoke. Not really to his tastes, but Rogue seemed to love it. Everything had been going well. They sat and talked, getting to know each other better, relaxing more having replaced the stiff champagne with whiskey and coke. He was managing to keep it under control. Until she sung, that is. She had chosen "Fever" as her preferred song - from all the one-hundred-and-fifty possibilities. From the moment the notes started to pour from her lips, Pietro couldn't contain himself. She had never looked so alive. He couldn't even enjoy the jealous looks of the others customers, she was too breathtaking. His eyes just wouldn't leave her.

The moment she had stepped off the stage, he had pounced. Bringing her body close to his and leading her towards the exit. Her shock had not lasted for long, only pausing a split-second before reacting to his advances. She always reacted, countering his every move - something he would come to analyse at a later date.

The ride to the hotel had been painful; their hands and tongues groping and exploring, yet trying to maintain a distance. Forever balancing on the edge of something, waiting precariously to fall over at any moment. Thankfully there was no need to check-in, as he had taken care of that before picking her up. It was the elevator ride that pushed him over that invisible line - his hands finding the slit in her skirt and providing access the smooth skin he craved.

With her legs wrapped around his waist, he finally managed to steer them through the door, just in time for them to tumble onto the bed. With a groan he realised, all to late to stop it, that she was pulling away - leaving him to lay lonely on the sheets. She stepped back, turning on the light, enabling him to fully see her. Propping himself up on his arms, Pietro watched as she pulled her hair loose and allowed it to tumble around her face before moving to her dress. She untied the neck at a torturously slow rate and then left the material to fall, simply pooling at he feet - exposing her bare breasts and a set of black-lace French-knickers. He groaned at the sight, letting his head fall back in desperation. Finally he felt those endless legs straddling his hips and her delicate hands beginning to free him from his confines.

"…Please don't drop me I'll fall to pieces on you
If you don't see me I don't exist
It's nice to meet you
Now let me go and wash my hands
Cause you just met the world's most handsome man
Here before you stands
Please don't drop me I'll fall to pieces on you
If you don't need me I don't exist
It's nice to meet you…"

The Rogue sat propped-up against the headboard, staring at the sleeping figure beside her. She was thinking about their first time - his first time. They had met during his visits to his father's work, when he was fifteen and liked the idea of 'hanging-out with hookers' better than the prospect of homework and video-games. Unlike Wanda - who had been disgusted and appalled at her father - Pietro didn't seem to mind when he discovered that Rogue was the same age as he and his twin. As a matter of fact, it was this knowledge that had spawned his interest in her particularly.

Back then, Pietro was awkward and gangly, not having grown into his features yet. He was just another two-hour job to her, at the time - more money to pay off her debt. He had been nervous and unsure of what to do, worried that he would mess-up and embarrass himself. So she had taught him; gently leading him through his first experience. He began to regularly request her time; slowly gaining confidence in this new-found sexual field. He wanted to experience everything; every position, every act, every touch. He had even tried experimenting with some of the softer kinks that the Rogue offered, but had soon discovered that they were not to his desire.

Their time together began to lengthen, sometimes lasting for days at a time. Days locked in one room together, only stopping to eat and refresh; never escaping into the fresh air. At that point, Rogue had begun to hate her sessions with Pietro; she loathed the way the room would constantly wreak of sweat and sex and how their combined stench of the act would linger on her body, with a haunting presence. She would never show it, but a week trapped within the four walls of an overly lavishly decorated hotel-suite was enough to make her nauseous.

Fortunately, Pietro's good looks and his father's social-life began to take effect. This combination mixed with Pietro's move to college, provided Rogue with an escape from their condemningly oppressive meetings. She didn't even mind when he began to take her out as the jewel on his arm - a piece to display for his friends admiration and jealous praise.

These days, Pietro only visited the city a few times a year. Whenever he was in town, he would request Rogue's company for the duration of his stay. During this time they stayed in a hotel room, unless Pietro felt like showing her off. On average, there was an 'outing' to attend six out of the seven days they were together. The rest of their time - mornings and nights - were an endless cycle of sex and drink. Even when out, on occasion, if Pietro could no longer control himself, he would drag Rogue into the toilet of whatever club, restaurant or theatre he was parading her around and lock them away for a session of fevered passion - before returning to his companions, satisfied for the time being.

He certainly had stamina; most nights they would go numerous rounds, and he was still eager for more in the morning. She had come to realise that when he finally dropped off to sleep, it was due to sheer exhaustion from the vigorous activity - rather than an inability to perform.

But this time was different. He had only requested her for the night, which had never happened before - although perhaps he really was just too busy. They had actually spent time together, just the two of them, which did not revolve around some kind of sexual activity. But most disturbing of all, was that Pietro Lensherr was asleep next to her by 11:52pm - after only the first round.

After the club things had been fast and intense, returning them to the confines of their normal relationship. Having been the one to teach Pietro all of his sexual behaviours, Rogue knew everything about that side of him. She knew how he liked it, knew how to behave, knew when to take charge and when to become submissive. She knew what each of her touches would do to him and how each of his would affect her. If he had been anybody else he might have become bored with their, almost, predictable relationship by now. But there was this constant, raw sexual tension between them, that seemed to light the sky with sparks. This was what made it hard for Pietro to control himself in her presence - he just couldn't get enough.

For her part, Rogue was relatively unaffected by their situation. It was her job to make men feel the way they wanted to - and she was damn good at what she did. For her an electrifying evening of passionate sex meant nothing more than sore limbs in the morning. Tonight's 'session' had been the same as all their others; completely mind blowing and utterly exhausting. They had finished just as sweated and out-of-breath as normal. Finally seperating to lay back against the pillows with small gasps of swirling passion - gasping for much needed air and relaxing their over exerted limbs.

Rogue had never bothered to time Pietro's recovery rate - the whole practice suggested an air of anticipation that was not a part of her ritual. However, she was well-practiced at reading his body and his reactions. The shallowing of his breaths, the muscles in his legs relaxing and the ones in his arms flexing - ready to run his hands through his hair. All of the signs clearly displaying that he had hit the right point - recovered enough that he was able to 'function', but not too relaxed that he had to get worked-up again.

The moment Rogue sensed his state she began to run her hands across his body, forming a well practised pattern - stroking, caressing, feeling his body's reaction and readying him for round two. But his hand had clasped around hers and he had uttered the words that had caused Rogue's current state of musing; "Not tonight."

Pietro had never refused her before - always ready for more until his body passed out from sheer exhaustion. Yet tonight he had simply turned to face the Rogue and settled into his pillow, slowly drifting off with his hand still encasing hers. He was different, wrong somehow. If he ever settled into sleep, before, it was always with his back to the woman he had paid for.

His strange behaviour was unnerving. But the thing that bothered her the most was that for the first time, in a very long time; a man had managed to surprise the Rogue.

"…Now let me go and wash my hands
Cause you just met the world's most handsome man
The world's most handsome man
The world's most handsome man
The world's most handsome man…"

A/N: So there is your first mention of Pietro! He will be making at least one other appearance in this fic & play an integral role in part of the storyline.

Sooooo, what to expect in the next chapter (which should hopefully be making an appearance very soon)?…Well there will be some Emma angst and our first introduction into her past. Another familiar face will be entering the mix (Feel free to guess, if you get it right I will give a shout-out to you in my next A/N! Now if that isn't an incentive, I don't know what is lol) Ummm, there will be another appearance from everyone's' favourite pyromaniac and there will probably be some more Remy/Rogue interaction.

Oh, and just to clarify; this fic will eventually be a ROMY!!! Rogue is sleeping with Pietro because she is being paid to do so and Remy is flirting with Tabby because, well, he is Remy Lebeau and she is a good looking (and ever-so-slightly easy) female. But be warned; it will take a while before we get to the Romy-ness.

Please review with any sort of feedback you have - I'm getting desperate here folks!