Hey guys! Just a couple quick notes before I start:

First off, to anyone hoping to see Charik in this fic, sorry to disappoint. I love those two together, I just don't really know how to write it. Hence, the Erik/OC pairing. Easier for me to work with.

Secondly, to my readers hoping for an update on 'The Life and Times of Ivy Walker-Wayne', at the moment I've given up that story. I may come back to it but, I have yet to be struck by new inspiration. As you can see, I've been once again seduced by the Marvel side of the force. My apologies to DC- they had cookies, what was I supposed to do?

Third and finally, I own nothing. Because, if I did, Charles wouldn't have gotten shot, Erik wouldn't have gone psycho, and they would have all lived happily ever after with lots of Charik on top!

But alas, this is not to be...or is it? *thinks* No, it isn't.

Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC!

"Hey there baby, can I buy you a drink?"

"Come on sweetheart, just one shot…"

"When do you get off? You wanna find a quiet place?"

Every night…

The waitress rolled her eyes, for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour, before looking around for her latest contestant. As she caught sight of him, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle what would have been very cruel laughter. For the site that met her eyes was this; the guy was maybe in his late forties, early fifties. He was short and round, wearing a lopsided and decidedly dopey grin, as well as a plain gold wedding band he hadn't even thought to take off before propositioning her. His expression could only be described as a leer, his eyes glazed over from beer and lust.

General consensus: this guy was married, pathetic and very, very drunk.

Once she gave him a thorough once-over–which, in his intoxicated state, went completely unnoticed–she plastered on a fake-apologetic smile, and ran through her classic routine, for the thousandth time that night.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sugar! I really would love to, but my boss would be really mad if I cut out early. I wish I could, but I can't."

Cue a false pout for good measure, as if she really was sad she couldn't go off with an inebriated stranger.

"Aw, you're breakin' my heart here, doll. You sure? I promise I won't getcha in any trouble," he slurred out, trying in vain to change her mind.

"Sorry," she said, already turning to leave Mr. Lonely to his brew, "maybe another time, if you come back and see me."

And at that, she left him. Really, she had other tables to deal with. She didn't have the time or the patience to deal with one more booze-soaked cheater tonight.

As she had just collected Lonely's empty bottles when he had tried (and failed) to woo her, she made her way to the back to drop them in the bin. When she got back to the front, the bell over the door tinkled, signaling yet another customer had just come in. Scratch that, she thought, as she looked over. Two customers. Two young, incredibly handsome, male customers. She let out a low whistle to herself. Well, hello there, boys.

A shout of her name shook her from her reverie, as the objects of her study made their way to a booth in the back.

"Allicia!" called Bill from the other end of the counter. She whipped around, a bit dazed at the moment.

"What's up?"

He nodded toward the back of the house. "The two at table twenty –get on it."

Her gaze followed to the table he had indicated. Which happened to be seating the guys who had just walked in. And one of them, the taller of the two with short brown curls and the greenest eyes she had ever seen, was staring at her from across the room. When he saw the she had looked his way, he favored her with an enticing smile.

She turned back to Bill. "On it, boss," she quipped back with a smirk, before making her way over to the two hunks in the back.

Well how about that, she thought, it's my lucky night after all…