“Alright, listen, buddy,” the first man said, swishing his finger around in an arch in the air as he spoke. There had been many beers poured for him that evening. Matt watched on from across the bar, pretending to be distracted by wiping down the countertop. The two men had been going at it for a few minutes already, and the situation didn’t look great. The tension was rising between the two of them, though the first guy seemed to be completely oblivious. He was definitely more drunk, and he was smaller, but he had a mouth on him.

The guy continued, swaying just a little in his seat, “maybe if your girl was better to look at then you wouldn’t have to prove your worth through these stupid little-”

Yep, he had been cut off by a punch. Matt sighed, not even bothering to look up as he dropped his rag and stepped out from behind the counter. Of course. They had lost track of their original argument several minutes before, and were just shouting insults as each other by that point. The guy really should have known not to insult the other guy’s girlfriend. It had been her, after all, who had thrown the first punch. Apparently she didn’t much care to be treated like an accessory or called ugly.

Matt approached with his arms out, trying his best to get between the three people who were blindly tossing their arms around at each other. All of them had been drinking, and none of them seemed to be able to hold their alcohol all that well. It was only a matter of time before they all exploded. “Hold-” Matt started, wincing as he took a slap to the side of the head. He held his arms out, having positioned himself between the two brawling men. His hands were on both of their sternums in order to keep them positioned apart. He had his eye on the woman, who was standing in front of him with a sour expression and her arms crossed. “Hold up, alright? You both need to get a hold of yourselves. I could care less about what you do outside, but if you’re going to sit in my bar, then you’re going to be civil, and-” he repositioned to avoid a fist to his nose “-you’re not going to cause any property damage. Got it?”

The boyfriend sniffed, but took a step back, looking toward his girlfriend as he straightened his shirt from the bottom. He was a big guy - at least 6’3” and built like a linebacker. But really, he only had a few inches on his girlfriend. The two of them looked like they could snap the other guy in half. “Got it,” he relented, though, glancing back at Matt with a stink eye. Matt dropped his arms to his side, letting out a sigh as he stepped forward. He had every intention of going back behind the bar and letting the two of them sort it out with fewer fists involved.

The girlfriend had other intentions, though. As Matt stepped forward, she pushed him back, making him stagger back in surprise, stopped only by the table behind him. The furniture scraped against the tile floors as it moved backwards with his sudden weight. Before he could stop anything, the three of them were going at each other again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the cooks stepping out of the kitchen to help (the real reason they often hired larger folks for the job), but they were going to be a little late. The boyfriend had already grabbed the first guy by the shoulders and was ripping into him with a set of repeated blows to the stomach.

There was no feeling quite like walking straight into a bar fight.

Not that Sveta had been planning on doing that. There were plenty of bars in New York City, but generally a lot less bar fights than one would have expected. Especially with superpowered people around. All she wanted right now to walk into one specific bar, and check on the guy whose world she turned upside down the other night, and not in a good way. When they parted, drunk as they were, Matt seemed alright. But Sveta was no stranger to hungover mornings, and she still felt a tiny bit responsible. So, she decided to stop by at Matt's workplace, and say hi.

Except what she actually said was

"Are you kidding me?!"

Yeah, bar fights came up in their conversation before. And this one was definitely... a bar fight.

Sveta walked through the door before she noticed the punches being thrown. Matt was right in the crossfire, as two large people seemed to be beating on the third one. Cooks walked out from the back to break up the fight, and Sveta could already tell that was a misguided attempt. They were bigger than the apparent target, but that just seemed to piss everyone off.

And, of course, this was a bar with people of various levels of being drunk. So, while some were trying to clear out, others were already drinking in the adrenaline. Those two tended to cross paths in their general trajectories.

Classic bar fight.

Matt was backed up against a table, right in the middle of all of it. Sveta began to walk towards him, but her path was blocked by someone else knocking over a chair. She dodged to the side and swore in Russian.

"So, is this what happy hour looks like around here?..."

This was not Matt’s first bar fight. He was rarely one of the ones initiating something, but he was often caught between the folks who were. That was the life of a bartender, though - there was always someone drunk and causing problems that became his responsibility. He actually knew a few of the cab drivers in town by name at that point.

He had been thrown backwards into the table that the first guy had been sitting at, though, causing a mostly empty pitcher to tumble off the side and smash on the floor. It was covered mostly by the yelling and the punching going on. The couple that had been making out in the corner had broken apart and left altogether, the band had stopped, and most people who were left had moved away from the fighting. A select few, though, had taken it upon themselves to join in on the chaos. One guy even looked pleased about it. It looked like it was going to be on the cooks and Matt to control the issue. If they could, it was best to have things end as soon as possible.

He hadn’t taken any more blows than the first one, so he was fine to jump back into the fight and attempt to wrangle the biggest guy away from the littlest. He aimed a first blow to the guy’s jaw, which landed nicely. Since his injuries, his fists weren’t as tight as they used to be, but he could still throw a good punch or two. The adrenaline was surging him forward by that point, making him go all in. He had caught the attention of the big guy, which made him abandon his first target. It wasn’t looking great for Matt, but at least the little guy had the chance to duck away and lick his wounds before he started bleeding internally.

It would have been unlikely for Matt to even look up from what he was doing if he hadn’t heard that Russian swear. He looked up suddenly, confused as he surveyed the rest of the bar. There she was, dodging a chair being thrown. The last time he had seen Svetlana, he’d been the one drinking, and he had regretted it in the morning. She’d completely shifted his world view, and he’d been having off days ever since. It was actually the first day that he’d felt somewhat normal again since he’d seen her.

The moment when he’d paused had given the guy a moment to get a hit in when he wasn’t watching. The fist connected with his left cheek, sending him reeling to one side. He grunted as he stood back up straight, clutching the spot where he could feel the bruise beginning to form. “We can’t all play drinking games, can we?” he called out to Svetlana as he turned back to the guy with a new concentration. He brought his elbow up and hit him hard across the face and then followed up with an uppercut, sending the other man to the floor. Matt then dropped his hands to his sides and rolled his shoulders. He still had it.

“Just thought you’d stop by?” he asked as he turned back to Svetlana, putting his foot on the chest of the guy in order to keep him on the ground. There was still fighting going on around him, but he wanted to make sure that this guy wasn’t going to cause any more trouble.

Even in heated bar fights, most people tended to stay away from women. Especially pretty ones like Svetlana. She had stopped wearing skirts in public a while ago, because they were not practical for running or fighting, but she was still way dressed up for a bar like this one. Even the guy who threw the chair looked a little sheepish about it. Matt caught a punch in the jaw and Sveta winced.

>>“We can’t all play drinking games, can we?”

"Some of these *ssholes must have been" Sveta pointed out. One of the drunker parties in the brawl turned around.

"Who are you callin' an ***hole?"

Matt returned the punch and brought one of the guys down.

>>“Just thought you’d stop by?”

"Yeah. Is this a bad time?" Sveta smirked. Sometimes a nice easy brawl was not too bad for a workout. The pissed person staggered towards her, trying to grab instead of punch. Sveta dodged, aimed an elbow at his face and and a kick at his leg, and brought him down with a crash on top of an overturned chair. This attracted some attention from the others. The brawl seemed to get more... enthusiastic. And more creative. Sveta turned just in time.

"Matt, bottle!"

Yeah, it was accurate to say that most of the guys in the bar were drunk. That wasn't super uncommon, though Matt was usually better at cutting people off. He just hadn't realized how much of a lightweight the first guy would be when he had poured for him the first time around. Things had spiralled much quicker than he'd expected them to, and now they were looking at an old fashioned bar fight. Complete with chairs being thrown around.

Svetlana was walking right through the thick of things. If Matt hadn't known all that he knew about her, then he might've been worried for her safety, but he knew she would be fine, even if he was shutting off her powers. Given the fact that an adrenaline boost to the entire bar didn't sound like a good idea at all, he figured that it was probably for the best. He was still surprised to see her, though. He didn't spend any more time glancing toward her in confusion, but his mind was still a little occupied with the fact that she seemed to walk in at the worst time. What was she doing there, anyway? They had exchanged numbers (at least he'd found her number in his phone the next morning), but he really hadn't expected much to come of that. He'd been a complete idiot that night, and she'd made it pretty clear that she didn't want anything else from him. So what was she doing there? And why hadn't she just texted?

Whatever her reasons were, she was there now, participating in a bar fight. She didn't even look winded. In fact, she looked pretty damn good while throwing punches and dodging blows. She really did have as much experience as she boasted. "No, it's not a bad time at all. Just having a friendly chat with some customers." Friendly. Sure. Chatting. Sure.

The guy under his foot was trying to get up, but Matt kicked him in the gut. He was down for at least a small count. Svetlana happened to alert Matt just in time for him to miss a bottle that was swinging for his forehead. He ducked down and extended his leg, tripping the guy so he ended up on the ground like the other guy. Drunk people got crafty with their weapons.

"Thanks," he called out, kicking the bottle out of the guy's hand. The cooks had managed to get a few people subdued. They were both as used to the drill as Matt was, and usually they made a fine team. Usually he wasn't caught off guard, though. The big guy was standing up, but Matt was ready for him. He aimed a kick at a rather sensitive area between his legs, making him fall back to his knees.

It was going rather well for Matt. It was just too bad that he didn't see the fist that was flying toward his head.

Sveta stepped over the guy who had gone down with a crash. She was within Matt's aura now, which was better for everyone. No one needed more of a coffee buzz than they already had, and they definitely did not need to accidentally manifest some freaky mutant power. So, order of the day was sticking close to Matt until the brawl was over.

>>"No, it's not a bad time at all. Just having a friendly chat with some customers."

"You make friends easily" Sveta noted as he took a second guy down. She could see the practice in the way he handled himself. Different training than hers, obviously, but the end result was pretty much the same. Except, banter kinda distracted him from the bottle coming at him; she had warned him just in time. It would have been a pity if he ended this with a concussion.

Sveta dodged someone who was being pushed over a table; no one was coming for her at the moment, but it was challenging to stay in the adapted aura with so much debris flying around. She turned again just in time to see the tall woman aiming a heavy fist at Matt's head from his blind spot.
Sveta moved fast. She rolled over the table between them, and made contact feet first, knocking the woman out of the way. She cried out and stumbled; her boyfriend turned and came to the rescue. Sveta landed on her feet, shifted her weight, and aimed a knee at the man's gut, throwing him off balance as the momentum carried him past her, and towards Matt.

"Heads up!"

Matt was a rather friendly guy, actually. Normally, people liked him well enough. He wasn't obtrusive, and most people didn't know a lot about him, so he was seen as more of a bar staple than anything else. There weren't many people that would be able to say that they knew him, but most liked him well enough. Svetlana actually knew him. Funny how that happened.

He had nearly been clocked in the head, though. It was aimed right for the back of his skull, which would have sent his face directly into the bar countertop and probably knocked out a couple of teeth in the process, but Svetlana stepped in just in time. Because of her, he was saved a severe facial injury, and that wasn’t even considering the fact that she had been a complete badass while she did it.

Matt turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden movement. It clearly wasn’t military training, but it was definitely something else. The way that she had just moved over the table and taken them both out like it was nothing. For someone of her size, she moved with incredible ease. He was almost too distracted to do much of anything when she gave him the heads up, but he did move once the guy was almost falling on him. He stepped just out of the way, letting the guy catch himself on the edge of the bar instead. The edge hit him on the forehead, and he was down for the count, conked out on the floor.

“This is bullsh**,” Matt said with a sigh, stepping over the guy on the ground. It was getting out of hand. As amazing as it was to watch Svetlana, this needed to stop before anyone broke anything else. He walked back to the bar, narrowly missing a few fists and flying beer bottles. Once behind the bar, he reached down and grabbed the shotgun that was kept behind there for occasions specifically like that one. As he lifted it up, he loaded the barrel, making sure that the sound could be heard over the arguing and fighting.

He was just holding the gun in the air, but he still seemed to have the attention of most of the people in there. His handling was nowhere what it used to be, but he still more than knew what to do with a gun if the situation came to it. “Alright, now if everyone here isn’t either clearing out or sitting down in the next minute, then I’m going to call the cops.” He looked at the girlfriend specifically when he continued, “and believe me, that’s me being mister-nice-guy. I could call them up right now and give some descriptions if I wanted to. That, and I've been itching to test out this gun.”

Matt managed to dodge the guy stumbling at him; boyfriend was soon out after he collided with the bar. Girlfriend came back for revenge, but Sveta punched her down too, just in time to hear the click of the shotgun in the resulting lull in the fight.

"Whoa."

>>“Alright, now if everyone here isn’t either clearing out or sitting down in the next minute, then I’m going to call the cops. And believe me, that’s me being mister-nice-guy. I could call them up right now and give some descriptions if I wanted to. That, and I've been itching to test out this gun.”

People did not need to be told twice, for once. While Svetlana moved to the bar (into Matt's aura, and out of the line of fire), the ones that were conscious got their stuff and cleared out with admirable speed, some supporting others that were only half conscious. The bar was almost empty in a few moments, with the exception of Sveta, Matt, and a few participants that were out cold.

"How American of you" Sveta grinned, picking up an abandoned bottle of beer from the bar "No one ever told you about guns in bar fights?"

His eyes followed people as they left the bar, staring them down to make sure that nothing funny happened on the way out. He could feel the bruise forming across his cheekbone and likely his eye, but he still felt like he had a good handle on the situation. The gun felt like a good weight in his hand, and he was nearly transported back to his time in the army. He’d gotten very used to walking around holding weapons during his time in service.

Thankfully, everyone seemed to take the hint. People were shuffling out, dragging people who hadn’t fared as well in the fight with them. It was only Svetlana who decided to stay. She was funny like that; always staying in situations that she would likely be better off leaving. Matt glanced at her before he lowered the gun he was holding, uncocking it and storing it back beneath the counter. Everyone had left, and he didn’t feel like he really needed it anymore. It was better to keep it until it was absolutely necessary again.

“Ouch,” Matt replied with a fake wince, balling up his fist and pressing it against his chest like he had been stabbed. There was nothing necessarily wrong with being American, and he had fought wars for the country that he partially belonged to, but he still felt like, deep down, he belonged somewhere in the middle of his two countries. “Right in the nationality, Señora.”

The cooks were dragging the people who hadn’t made it out of the fight as lucky. Some of them had been pulled out by the people that they came with, but many of those who were left had come alone. They were being lined up at the wall until they came to. It would be on the employees to watch them to make sure that they weren’t actually injured enough to go to the hospital, but if everything was alright, then they would be sent packing as soon as they opened their eyes.

Matt took the beer that Svetlana was holding right from her hands and replaced it with a fresh one that hadn’t yet been touched. “You don’t want to be sharing saliva with anyone in here, miss clean freak,” he told her with a smirk as he stepped out from behind the bar.

“Broken glasses come out of my paycheck,” he explained as he approached the messy main area of the bar with a broom and a dustpan. He pushed aside the tables that were blocking the broken glass in order to get at it before sweeping it into the pan. “I think I’m entitled to an extreme reaction every now and then.”

Of course he had a gun under the counter. That was a such a wild west thing, something people who grew up on American movies totally expected, even in New York City. Sveta almost giggled when she saw it; somehow, it seemed like a movie set. Not that she had not shot guns in her own time in the city. In different situations.

>>“Ouch. Right in the nationality, Señora.”

"Bo-hoo, hot shot" Sveta grinned, raising the bottle to him. He was an American staple and he knew it. Guatemalan or not.
He did, however, take the bottle right out of her hand before sh could drink.

>>“You don’t want to be sharing saliva with anyone in here, miss clean freak,”

She chuckled and took the new glass. She was not going to into the topic of sharing saliva any further; instead, she drank. The beer was cold and felt good after the workout. Matt put the gun away and turned back into a bartender, moving to clean up the mess.

>>“Broken glasses come out of my paycheck. I think I’m entitled to an extreme reaction every now and then.”

"Hey, I'm not gonna judge you for extreme reactions" she smirked, taking another swig before she put the bottle down and followed him. Some furniture was broken, and there was definitely glass everywhere, but at least the room was mostly in one piece. And no one got behind the bar. "Did I see you get hit earlier? Are you okay?"

The glass scratched against the ground as he pushed it along into the pan with the broom. It wasn’t unusual for a bar fight to occur, but Matt had been pretty good about keeping them off his watch. When it did come to that, too, he was good at diffusing them, even if it meant bring out the shotgun - which was actually his boss’s. It wasn’t like he owned the place.

All things considered, it had gone pretty well. Most people were fine, and the property damage was minimal. It was thanks to Svetlana that he didn’t have a concussion, though. He had to give her that one. The girl really was something else. What were the chances that she would walk into the place at that very moment that a fight was going down? Why had she walked in at all? He had assumed that they were going to leave it at the one interaction.

“I’ve had worse,” he said with a shrug, keeping his hands away from the place where he’d been punched. It had hurt, sure, but he was playing the tough guy. He really had had worse, but that didn’t mean that things stopped hurting. He lifted the pan off of the floor and walked with it behind the bar, depositing the broken glass in the trash. In quick movements, he walked back and began setting the tables and chairs back up. A few chairs had been thrown, but none had been broken, thankfully. The damage coming out of his paycheck would be minimal.

His hands still positioned on the edge of a table, he glanced up at Svetlana with a curious expression. “So what’re you doing here, anyway? Other than beating people up in my bar. Those were some moves you’ve got,” he told her. It was amazing the way that she’d moved when she was in danger. He knew the history behind it, and he figured that she would likely want to learn some moves in order to keep herself from being kidnapped again. But damn.

She really had looked good, too. Matt had to make sure his eyes weren’t wandering too much as he met her eyes. Just her eyes.

She had managed to save him from being hit with a bottle, but Matt did take some punches while he was in the thick of the fight. He looked okay, though. The guy could probably take heavier hits than that one. At least he was not bleeding.

>>“I’ve had worse,”

"I'm sure you had" Sveta smirked, picking up some chairs. He looked like he was playing tough with his injuries. She decided not to poke at his pride anymore. For now. He was probably gonna have some colorful bruises later on.

>>“So what’re you doing here, anyway? Other than beating people up in my bar. Those were some moves you’ve got,”

"Didn't beat up anyone who didn't ask for it" Sveta noted, holding up her index finger for clarification. It wasn't like she had been looking for trouble. She returned to the bar and sat on a stool, sipping her beer. "Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.
I guess the rest was just luck."

An odd woman had found her way into his life, and she seemed to be planting herself there, for better or worse. Matt cocked his head as he regarded her, as if trying to decide what to make of her. She had changed his general views the first time that she had walked in there, but he figured that would be it. She had only gone out with him because she felt bad, and she hadn’t even owed him that. A second visit definitely wasn’t required.

If it had been a different situation, he might’ve thought that she was interested in something else, but he hadn’t exactly acted like someone worth investing time in the last time they’d talked, and she’d made herself pretty clear. Perhaps she was just trying to be a better person, like she’d claimed? Did she think he was a charity case? He really hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Better, thanks,” he said in response to her question, looking back down at the table as he moved it back into place. Soon enough, the restaurant was looking just like it had before. The cooks had gone back to the kitchen, making sure that nothing had burned when they’d been forced to abandon their stations. It was just Matt, Svetlana, and a few unconscious people in the corner. Yeah, she most likely felt bad for him.

Walking back behind the bar, Matt didn’t look back up at her until he had reached the other side. He had been a mess that night, but he was picking the pieces back up. He hadn’t drank that much since, and he’d even set an appointment with his old therapist. He was a big boy, dealing with his issues in a big boy way. She didn’t need to waltz back in there like he needed saving. From the fight or his demons. “You really don’t need to worry about me, alright? You did your part, which I appreciate, but I’m good. You don’t need to feel bad about it.”

The place cleaned up pretty well. Sveta took a look at the unconscious people; none of them looked seriously injured. They set the chairs and tables back up, and the cooks disappeared. There would be some time before people started trickling back in (she bet the whole fight was already on social media), but at least they got time to breath, and figure out if Matt had a concussion he was not willing to admit. She was here to check on him, after all.

>>“Better, thanks,”

Well, he was not drunk, and he just stopped a bar fight with minimum damage, so 'better' was definitely an acceptable answer. He did look a little sheepish about it, though. Sure, Sveta had seen him at a bad moment (made worse by the alcohol), but in her view, he had not really said or done anything to be embarrassed about. other than maybe eating too many fries.

>>“You really don’t need to worry about me, alright? You did your part, which I appreciate, but I’m good. You don’t need to feel bad about it.”

"Who said I feel bad about it? Dat's what the vodka was for." Sveta smirked, resting her elbows on the counter. That night, she did feel guilty for springing the adapted thing on Matt, and triggering his memories. But that was not really the reason she came back to check on him. "How is the adapted aura? Getting used to the idea now?"

His first thought was that she just felt bad for him; that she had come to see whether he was doing alright because she might be worried that he was suicidal or something. That immediately triggered something within him. Matt was a particularly private guy, partially because he hated anyone feeling bad for him. He didn’t need pity, and he definitely didn’t want it shoved in his face. This wasn’t an ideal situation, either. Some girl walks into his bar and he ends up just making her sad with his stories? Yeah, that definitely wasn’t preferred.

The easiest way to get her off his back would be to just clear it up outright - he didn’t need her to feel sorry for him or make the situation any more difficult than it already was. He was fine getting through things on his own, and he didn’t need Svetlana to babysit him.

She, however, simply smirked at the notion, as if she hadn’t even been thinking anything similar. Matt narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t say anything else about it. Maybe he had judged her wrong after all, or pushed his own thoughts on her. If some guy had done the same to him, then he likely wouldn’t be as cool about it, and it likely wouldn’t be on his list to jump into a possible follow-up conversation.

Not that he wanted a follow-up conversation now. He definitely didn’t want to relive any of that.

Instead, she asked about his aura. “Suppose so. I mean, I’ve gone this long without having it do much of anything, and that didn’t really change in a few days’ time,” he pointed out. “I think the only person it really affects is you, at this point.” As far as he knew, he hadn’t run into any other mutants. At least, no one else had commented on it, and it didn’t do much otherwise. He was still coming to terms with the… other things that it brought, but those weren’t at the forefront of his mind for the time being. He could work through them later.

“Don’t tell me that’s the real reason you dropped by,” he added with a raised eyebrow as he glanced back at the blonde. “Just had to sit in the radius?”