All's Fair in Love and War

Chapter 1 Evelyn Johnson

*A/N I do not own X-men or any of its characters. I only own my own characters. Stories contain spoilers for the movies.

First Arc: Fair

"Hey, Evie, here's the three beers for table twelve."

"Thanks, Dom." Twenty-two year old Evie Johnson smiled as she placed the three glasses of draught beer onto her tray.

"No problem, sweetheart." Dom, the heavyset bartender, shrugged. He watched her go for a bit before turning back to his next order as Evie made her way through the crowded bar towards a group of four men who were laughing raucously by the windows.

"Three draught beers, as you ordered, sirs." Evie announced as she set the glasses down in front of the three men she remembered taking the orders from, expertly removing their many empty shot glasses as she did.

"Can I get you a refill, sir?" She looked to the last man as she spoke, indicating his empty glass.

"No, I'm fine." The man replied politely, while his friend laughed as he said loudly: "Eh, old Mike here's a lightweight; can't take much more than the one beer, eh, Mikey?"

"Well, at least I don't have to act like an idiot drunk." The man – Mike, apparently – answered humourously, and his drunken friends laughed, clearly already almost out of it.

"Excuse me." Evie said politely as she moved on from the table.

She paused, however, when one of the men grabbed her hand, saying in the familiar drunken slur: "Hey, where're you going, beautiful? Why don't you stick around with us for a little bit?"

"I have to work, sir." Evie declined politely, before she raised a brow as she felt the man's hand touch the back of her knee, his hand slowly moving higher and clearly trying to cop a feel unnoticed by everyone else.

"Aw, that's too bad, beautiful." The man was saying as his other two friends continued to drink obliviously.

Their one somewhat sober friend had yet to notice, busy keeping one of his other drunken friends from waving his drink carelessly around and spilling it onto the people sitting behind. So Evie just smiled at the drunken man still holding her hand, brushing her hand slightly through her long silvery blonde hair as she stared at the customer before her. He grinned back, albeit a little dazedly, as he let her go.

"Thanks, beautiful." He murmured, passing her a small roll of cash, and Evie just smiled as she pocketed the tip, just before his sober friend, Mike, turned to look in their direction.

"Miss, he didn't harass you or anything, did he?" Mike spoke up, frowning at his obviously gleeful friend, and Evie smiled.

"No, he didn't." She replied calmly, before moving on to her next table.

"Hey, Evie," the head of the floor, Sasha, said as Evie returned to the front counter to return some bill holders after accepting the tips inside, "two more at table seven. Take care of them."

"I thought that table was reserved for three at nine?" Evie answered in surprise; and she frowned slightly in bewilderment, as Sasha's eyes seemed to glaze over slightly before the woman answered: "No, it's two – the third couldn't make it. And it's now."

"Oh... Okay." Evie answered slowly, glancing back at Sasha once more before she left the counter and headed for table seven.

She saw the two men seated, waiting, and raised a brow for they looked rather out of place in the pub – for different reasons. The shorter of the pair looked too well-dressed, in his smart button-down and expensive looking coat; not to mention the polished shoes and neatly styled brown curls that spoke of class not usually seen at this particular bar.