Eric had sat in many bars over the years, and had concocted many grand plans with a glass of scotch in his hand. However, this time nothing was coming to him. He had no way to get what he wanted. He couldn't get mutant freedom without help, and he sure as hell wasn't asking anyone for it.
Just as he came to this conclusion, a body plopped down on the stool beside him. 'Can I get a martini please' the girl said as she thumped her bag down on the bar, with a little more force than was necessary.
Normally, Eric didn't even glance at humans, they were a weak species who tried to control everything, two qualities which simply don't mix, but this time he did. This girl didn't fit in a bar. She was wearing a pencil skirt and blouse with a blazer over the top and huge heels that he couldn't possibly imagine her walking in. She had long, dark hair that she'd tied up in an intricate bun and secured with a decorative clip. Her make up was simple, and she did (despite how much Eric wanted to deny it) look good.
He must have stared for too long because she whipped her head round and sighed 'do you mind?' as she pulled the clip from her hair and let it cascade down past her shoulders.
'No.' Eric replied, and turned his attention back to his drink. He didn't want to look at her anyway (he justified).
'Good,' she replied 'because I'm tired of being treated like an attraction.'
'Tell me about it.' Eric replied, surprising himself.
'What would you know about it?' she said sceptically, forcing him to look at her again. Now that he saw her eyes he was shocked. They were grey eyes, with a subtle hint of blue and an orange ring around the pupil. They were amazing. The only eyes he'd ever seen, that even compared to hers, were Mistique's, and he'd promptly ruined any relationship he'd had with her. You know, with the whole trying to kill her thing.
'Let's just say, not that many people like my company.'
'Shocking,' she responded, sarcastically, 'you're a real conversationalist.'
By the time Eric had drained his third glass of scotch, he'd extracted a few more details from this vaguely interesting human (although he continued to protest that he wasn't interested, simply bored). Her name was Emma, she was 29, and she worked in the Whitehouse, but today had been on damage control after the disaster. He asked if she'd seen the mutants who caused the trouble, she said no, which (to Eric's dismay) made him glad. As the alcohol had taken control, Eric had told her more about his problems with Charles and Raven, but obviously hadn't gone into the fine details… no amount of alcohol could justify that.
Another glass of scotch later and he was asking her back to his apartment. She said she had to go, but gave him her number and told him to call sometime.
But Eric knew he would never ever seek out the company of a human.
