A/N: I own nothing belonging to either Leverage or X-Men. I do own Layla however. And this is what happens late at night when there's nothing to do because you're pretty much snowed in. Please read, review
When he would look back at this he would come to the conclusion that it had in fact been his fault. He had wanted to do something after the con was over. He hadn't had to hit a single person, so he had too much energy built up. She had suggested they find a bar and play a couple rounds of pool. His first mistake of the night had been not insisting that she change out of the black leather pants and halter top she had been wearing for the con. He couldn't help himself, he was a guy, and he was having a hard time not touching as it was.
When they got to the bar it was almost empty with only a handful of patrons spattered about. He growled softly when he noticed the pool table was in use. She just smiled and pulled him over to the bar. Hopping up on the stool she ordered them two beers and two shots of Jack. Eliot smiled, watching as the car thief slid his drinks over to him. Layla smirked and took her shot of Jack.
"Oh look a juke box." Layla smiled slipping off the bar stool and making her way over to the old juke box.
Eliot grinned as he watched her pull a five dollar bill from seemingly thin air and put it into the machine. She spent the next ten minuets filling the machine with selections from the albums listed.
"Dance with me?" She asked Eliot when she returned to the bar.
"I don't dance darlin'." Eliot replied.
"Please." She pouted.
"No." He repeated firmly.
"Jackass." She muttered under her breath.
"What?" He turned to look at her, knowing full well what she had said.
"Your hair looks nice." She replied with a snarl.
Eliot would have shot a snide comment back, but was stopped as a tall well built man with a heavy Cajun accent sat on the chair next to Layla.
"I'll dance wit you, chere." He told her with a charming smile.
Layla smiled broadly and accepted the strangers offer. He took her hand in his, brushing his lips across the back before leading her out to the bars makeshift dance floor. Eliot growled and rolled his eyes. He wanted to turn around, but something kept him watching the pair on the floor.
"You should have just danced with her." A voice told him from next to him.
Eliot snorted, taking a pull of his beer, turning to glance at the man next to him. His focus was also on the pair, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He obviously found some sort of humor in the situation. It only served to fuel Eliot's irritation more. He took another pull from his beer as the music playing faded and another song started. It was bluesy with a pulsing beat. A raw female voice filled the bar pained emotion.
Eliot growled as he watched the Cajun man's hands slide lower to rest on Layla's swaying hips. He could hear the man next to him chuckle. It was then that Eliot realized his second mistake of the evening, and knew the man next to him had been right. He chugged the last of his beer and ordered another round of Jack as the music, once again, faded, this time into nothing. He watched carefully as Layla stood on her tiptoes and kissed the Cajun man on the cheek. He could vaguely hear him say something to her in French, to which she replied in kind, before she returned to sit next to Eliot at the bar.
Eliot waited a few moments before he spoke to Layla, and almost regretted it as soon as he did.
"Do you always dance with strange men at bars?" He glowered.
"Only when the man I'm with refuses to dance with me."