*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 the man's relatively 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. Not that those types of customers couldn't come to the 'Viva Grande'… but they just didn't. After all, usually men of wealth and/or the upper class, which this man had to be given his impeccable grooming, could afford better quality drinks and company than offered at the Viva Grande.

The few exceptions that Evie had seen in the pub were those who came out with friends or acquaintances of the types to frequent 'Viva Grande' - as in, those who were usually just looking for cheap drinks and a good time… or to ogle the skimpily dressed barmaids. For example, Mike's friends from table twelve. But, as Evie glanced at the taller man seated at table seven, it was clear that this man was no regular type either.

Yet, he was a different sort of unusual from his companion. It wasn't just his debonair hair, and black turtleneck paired with a suede jacket either. Nor was it his sculpted good looks that set him so apart from the countless other men Evie interacted with at the 'Viva Grande'.

No, it was a look in the sharper-looking man's eye and something in his air that made Evie instinctively cautious as she approached the two men. For the taller man exuded an air that said 'dangerous, yet vulnerable'; a treacherous combination if there ever was one.

And all of that didn't even include the fact that both men were watching her approach with identical Cheshire smiles.

"Good evening, and welcome to Viva Grande. I'm Evie, and I'll be your server tonight." Evie greeted, plastering a fake smile on her face to hide her wariness as she came up to their table. "Can I do anything for you, gentlemen? Perhaps get you something to drink, or some light bites?"

"I think the better question is, what can we do for you?" The taller, darker (in aura not looks) man replied, and Evie frowned just slightly.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, wondering if she was guaging this man wrong. Any other customer, she might have said they were trying to flirt (very poorly); but there was something in this man's tone that made her pause and stare at him apprehensively.

"Oh, and I must say," the man continued as he raised his brow slightly at her and a hint of sarcasm threaded into his voice. "You have the most beautiful eyes, Evie."

Evie stiffened instantly, her eyes narrowing at the man. It couldn't be – there was no way he'd seen through her… had he?

"Erik, perhaps I should handle this." The shorter one spoke up in a soft British accent, which might have been interesting if he wasn't watching Evie so intently.

"Be my guest, Charles." Erik answered with a small smile, settling back in his seat languidly in a way that still managed to ooze dangerous.

"Handle what?" Evie asked sharply as she glanced between the two strange men.

"Please, calm down, Miss Johnson."

Evie started so violently at the sudden, British voice in her head that she dropped her pen; and then she blinked in shock as her pen froze mid-fall, hovering in the air before floating into the taller man, Erik's, hand.

Evie gaped at them, before she breathed, "What…?"

"It's all right, Miss Johnson." Charles said in her head as he watched Evie with those keen blue eyes, a kinder smile appearing on his face as Evie's thoughts raced frantically. "We are not here to hurt you."

Erik was smiling, clearly enjoying Evie's shock as she gawked at his friend.

"Who are you?" Evie asked them, and Charles answered, aloud this time, "We're friends – people just like you."

Evie stared at them, and Erik added with a smirk, "That was quite the trick you pulled earlier."

He nodded across the bar towards the drunken man Evie had been serving just minutes earlier, and she frowned as she asked slowly, "You saw that?"

"Charles explained what you had done." Erik answered, his smirk becoming more pronounced when Evie shot the shorter brunette man a quick, calculating look. "All I saw, naturally, was you smiling at the man – and then him passing you some extra cash for no apparent reason other than your smile."

Evie turned back to Erik, who's own smile widened like a shark's as he added casually, "Just as I only saw your blue eyes until Charles helped me see their real colour."

Evie's eyes narrowed, and Erik's smirk just widened even further.

"It's a very interesting trick you have there." Charles interjected, drawing Evie's attention back to him as the man looked at her more seriously than his smirking companion.

"Not as interesting as yours apparently." Evie bit back.

Erik snorted, while it was Charles's turn to smile widely, though it was kinder than Erik's as he countered gently, "No, yours is just different from mine; it's very unique, and with a lot of potential to grow."

Erik glanced at Charles then; before the taller man turned his blue eyes on Evie as he watched her closely, apparently now more interested. She shifted uncomfortably, disliking the man's intense scrutiny. It wasn't flirtatious and it wasn't exactly like he was looking at her as if she weren't a person; but something told her he wasn't seeing her either.

He seemed to catch her discomfort and backed off – psychologically speaking – instead leaning back in his chair and casually drawing his gaze off of her.

This piqued Evie's interest once more, because it was interesting that a man who was clearly no telepath had completely understood her body language. And it wasn't in the 'I'm just a nice person' kind of way, nor was it simply a 'I sense she doesn't like me' sort of response.

No, something in Evie's gut told her that Erik had some first hand experience in being on the side of unwanted and often intimidating scrutiny; and that he had backed off because he empathized with her on that. And she wondered what he had been through that he could know a fellow 'lab rat' from just one look - the way she could.

"We wouldn't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with." Charles spoke, and Evie glanced at the man again. There was no question if he was a telepath – though, at least he seemed like a nice guy. Or, he pulled the act off a lot better than most men.

Charles's lips twitched, as though he was holding back a laugh, and he said lightly, "Well, thank you. I do try; to be a good person that is, not just act like one."

Yup, definitely a telepath. Evie scowled slightly at Charles, which made Erik laugh as he guessed what was happening, before she said with a huff, "All right; you've caught my interest. What is it that you're here for, exactly?"

"We're recruiting people like you; and Charles and I." Erik explained. "We could use your help - especially if you're as talented as Charles here says you are."

"Recruiting for what?" Evie asked guardedly, and Charles smiled as he answered in her mind, "Perhaps in a quieter place?"

Evie exhaled sharply but grudgingly conceded to Charles's assertion – the 'Viva Grande' probably wasn't the best place to have any important discussions. They might already have said too much aloud; though they hadn't mentioned 'mutation' aloud yet, it was probably best to place a hold on the conversation before they did.

"I get off at midnight." She informed the pair. "Would you be willing to wait that long?"

Erik opened his mouth, as though to protest, but Charles nodded as he answered kindly, "Absolutely, Miss Johnson."

He then extended his hand as he added, formally introducing himself, "I'm Charles Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Evie answered as she took the offered hand, unable to hide a small answering smile as Charles beamed at her.

"Erik Lehnsherr." Erik added, and Evie shook his hand as well as she replied, "Evie Johnson."

As they released their handshake, Evie added as she nodded at their table, "If you're going to wait here, you are going to have to order something."

Erik chuckled while Charles laughed as he said, "Well, between your and my, shall we say, skills, we probably wouldn't need to order anything and no-one would ever question it. However, I will get a draught of the house beer."

"Same for me." Erik shrugged, and Evie informed them, "It's American beer, just so you two know what you're getting yourselves into."

"Yes, I know." Charles answered, and Evie shot back as she nodded at Erik pointedly, "He might not. And with a surname like Lehnsherr, I'm not taking chances he won't upturn it in disgust."

Charles smiled, while Erik replied smugly, "Actually, I did know – I saw it on the drinks board when we were walking in."

He nodded to the chalk menu that was by the front counter, and Evie raised another brow.

"So, I've got two house beers for the mind reader and the smart aleck." She said as she wrote it down on her notepad, and both Charles and Erik chuckled again as Evie walked off to get their orders.