Jamie watched the bar maid pass out beers to a party in the corner booth. She was small, probably only reaching his shoulder, but the way she handled the more drunk patrons said she wouldn't be pushed around easily. Jamie sipped his beer and continued to watch the woman. She had dark, dark hair, couldn't be sure if it was black or brown. Her eyes, when she turned them in his direction, were a striking blue that had Jamie careening in his seat. He liked her.
He was pulling a few bills out of his wallet when he heard glass smash and someone start yelling. Jamie turned and just caught one of the drunkest patrons in the bar swing his fist at the bar maid. Without really thinking, there were suddenly three of him, two of his copies were restraining the drunk while he, the original, helped the woman from the floor. Once she was off the floor, Jamie could see the bruise from the other man's fist was already blooming.
"Thank you," she said distractedly.
She was watching his clones. Jamie flinched and moved away from her.
"If you drop him outside for me," she said, turning her eyes to the originals, "I'll wipe your tab."
The two clones automatically began to escort the man out the door. The woman lead him back to the bar and pushed him into his seat before ducking behind the bar. She turned to get him another beer, but Jamie was too distracted by the eyes watching him.
"Relax," she said softly, placing the bottle in front of him, "They're not going to attack you. This place is mutant friendly."
"The guy I just threw out didn't seem so friendly," he ground out.
"That was Harold. He usually gets so drunk he doesn't remember he's a mutant, much less where he is or who I am."
"That happen often?"
"No, not really. Usually he just cries until his buddies take him home."
"Where were his buddies tonight?"
"You ask a lot of questions for a stranger," she laughed. "What's your name?"
"Jamie."
"I'm Florence. Nice to meet you."
"Pleasure's mine," Jamie said, raising the bottle to his lips.