Nothing said happy anniversary like an empty bar, atall glass of cheap whiskey, and a truckload of self loathing.

Henry sat at the high bar in the run down joint. He was wearing his usual expression which simmered somewhere between "I'll shoot you if you piss me off" and "I'll punch you if you piss me off." He had closed the bakery early, because he owned the place and it was his right to do so, and found the nearest place that served something stronger than coke.

He took another drink of his whiskey and the cold liquid burned going down. He shook his head and noticed he still had a flick of flour on his arm, covering the face of his bear tattoo on his arm. The beasts mixed in a collage of teeth and claws.

Sarah.

It been three years since the divorce, and here he was looking at the anniversary of a wedding that had meant next to nothing. No cake tonight, no smiling daughter and happy housewife. No blonde hair and long legs. Typical.

The usual crowd hadn't appeared in the bar yet and Henry had the place mostly to himself. He downed his glass and tapped a finger on the bar to get the bartenders attention. The man saw and came over to refill his glass.

How many of these had he had already? He let out a huff, not enough yet

Fortunes had changed beautifully for Jayden over the course of the last couple of weeks.  An epiphany leading to the advantages of a life of crime had led to a couple of good scores which in turn had lead to a new place to live and a new bike.  A part of her was terrified that all her recent gains would come crashing down on her just as they had so many times in the past.  Another part of her wanted to celebrate her good fortunes until that day happened.  No one could ever accuse of her of taking for granted those few good things that fell into her lap!

Riding a short distance from her new residence, she found a little run-down bar not far, close enough to walk back at the end of the night and pick up her bike in the morning.  She parked and removed her helmet.  Before sauntering inside.  Dive bar were the words that came to mind and those were her favourite types.  The people they attracted were a little rougher, a little more down to earth and a lot more interesting.  Maybe it was the street punk in her.

After a quick glance around, she took a seat at the bar, next to one of the few other patrons there drinking.  Maybe it was the, as of yet, relatively early hour or maybe it was because it was a weeknight and it was considered bad form to drink when you had to work the next day, but the place was close to deserted.  Well, that suited her well enough.

She flagged down the bartender.  "PVR."  As was her usual fashion, black cat claws adorned the tips of each of her fingers and the fact that she barely got a look from the bartender said good things about him.  Once her drink had arrived, she nodded towards the man beside her.  "So, what brings you here drinking alone?"

Henry saw the girl sit beside him. She was younger than him, probably no older than twenty. Her hair and style were in line with a punkish nature, he'd seen plenty like her in prison. Her fingers were tipped with black claws, an obvious mutant. Blatant displays of power denoted confidence, or inexperience at the moment he wasn't sure which.

Profiling. It was a left over habit from the army. As much of a habit as the .45 he had tucked in a back holster in his faded jeans, consealed by his tee shirt. Habit as much as the tactical bag he had strapped to his left leg filled with various types of jerky. Sometimes he forgot he wasn't on the battlefield anymore, or at least the same battlefield.

"So, what brings you here drinking alone?"

He looked over at the girl and took a sip of his whiskey.

"Life. She likes to kick ya when your down kid." He said grumpily.

"Those claws draw attention. In the wrong crowd might be trouble." He noted off handedly.

That first sip of celebratory beer was just so satisfying.  "I know a thing or two about the world crapping on you," Jayden spoke although her voice was lacking in its usual bitterness.  "Not today.  Today I'm celebrating, at least until the universe sees fit to take everything away again in a blaze of fire and ash."  Even if her voice lacked bitterness, her expression told the tale of her history with just such a cycle.

"How do you know I have any choice in the claws?" she asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow in his direction.  Just because she actually did have a choice wasn't the point; he had no way to know whether or not she was one of those mutants who couldn't hide what they were even if they wanted to.  She'd met a few of those and it wasn't always pretty.

"Its about pride.  Mutants shouldn't have to hide what they are and they shouldn't be ashamed."  At its heart, it was a political statement.  She was a mutant, proud to be one and strong enough that she could deal with most problems that came about because she was so brash about what she was.  She was doing this for those who didn't have the strength themselves.

...universe sees fit to take everything away again in a blaze of fire and ash."

By now Henry could have recieved a major in Bar Philosophy had such a degree existed, so he gave a small nod in response to the girls statement. Her cynicism seemed a tad to extreme for a girl so young, which told Henry she probably got the majority of her education from the school of hard knocks. Still far be it for him to spoil a moment of triumph for her, no matter his own surly mood.

"To the universe then." He said raising his glass.

He drank as she asked him about his observation. It was a fair question and he gave a small shrug in response as she continued to explain her pride and thirst for mutant equality.

So one of those then.

Henry gave a small nod of acknowledgment and set his glass on the bar.

"Touche. I agree. No need for us to hide in a perfect world. Also in a perfect world wars aren't fought in towns where children live and smart girls get free drinks just as often as pretty ones. I've found that leaning on the side of caution is sometimes the better gamble in the real world." He said.

Though it was a bit hypocritical coming from the guy who spent two tours in a warzone.

"No worries here though kid. I like claws." He said with a sly grin.

"To the universe," Jayden agreed holding up her own cup and taking a drink.  Yes, she was a cynical b*tch but it was nothing that the universe brought on upon itself.  Take life for everything it was willing to give because in the blink of an eye it could just as easily take it all away again.  Enjoy things when things were good because the good was always fleeting.

"We'll never live in a perfect world."  It sounded like the guy had seen and experienced some things himself.  "Caution is all well and good, but who's going to fight for the ones who can't fight for themselves if we're all preoccupied with being cautions?"  Her eyes confidently sought to meet his.  She wasn't quite a mutant supremacist but she sure as hell was willing to do violence if she thought it would help her people.  Maybe mutants were superior to humans and maybe they weren't, but they didn't deserve the harms often done to them for no other reason than to be born with the wrong set of genes.

"Thanks.  So, what can you do, then?"  She caught the 'us' in the previous statement implying that he, too, was a mutant. 

He raised his glass in response to her remark. It was true, sometimes you had to right to good fight. Hell Henry was a soldier he'd fought for less, but when it came to mutant rights he didn't see violence as the best route.

"Fair point. Though I'd say Martin Luther made bigger strides than Malcom X. Fight when you have to, but hit them with logic and reason and you find the enemy takes it harder." He said simply.

This coming from a man who on orders had killed countless. He was good with a gun yeah, but when you'd taken loves using claws and literally biting people to death and then went on to speak peace maybe it was a hypocritical point.

"It's a fight worth having when you have to I'll admit." He concluded.

She asked about his mutation and Henry gave a little shrug.

"Shifter. Take on animal traits by eating meat. Birds, Mammals, lizards. What about you? Kitty cat claws your deal?" He said with a playful laugh.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not about to start a fight where it isn't needed.  I'm just well prepared to fight back if I have to."  Well, that was mostly true anyway.  Its not like she usually went looking for a fight but sometimes fights kind of found her.  Some might say a life of crime wasn't the most peaceful of lives, but the truth was that things went so much smoother when there was no actual conflict.  Sneak in and sneak out with a bunch of money.  Easy and conflict free.

"Hopefully one day we won't need to worry about who's able to fight and who isn't."  She took a sip of her beer.  Probably that was wishful thinking reserved for hippies and pacafists.  She was netiher of those things.

She listened with interest to his description of what he could do with his powers.  "Well, we might have something in common then.  I manifest my aura into various animal traits. Wings, claws, scales, you name it.  If an animal has it, I can probably probably mimic it."  Purely physical traits, anyway.

I'm just well prepared to fight back if I have to."

Henry gave a nod that ended in him downing the last of his whiskey. Another tap of his finger on the bar and the bartender appeared refilling it. By this point the man could feel the effects of the liquor on him. His mind slowed slightly and his brain seemed to be running on the "sluggish" setting.

"Good mentality to have. Staying ready for a fight keeps you a lot less dead when you find yourself in one. You got a job kid?" He asked.

It was still very early, hence the empty bar and he assumed that most people with day jobs would be at work. The fact that she was here meant it was either a day off, or she had no job to go to. Her happy attitude made Henry assume she probably had a way of making money somehow.

"Hopefully one day we won't need to worry about who's able to fight and who isn't."

"When that day comes let me know cause I'll be handing out cupcakes for free." He said with a laugh,"I made a business out of being the guy who can fight for years."

He listened to her description of her ability and gave his head a shake to force himself to think. He thought over the tactical applications, pitting what he knew about her ability against his own.

"Hmmm. I have to shift between forms to use different animals. You sound like that aura of yours is pretty versatile. Plus if you have that matte black thing going on I can see plenty of sheath application. I approve" He said slightly drunkenly offering his glass for a clink.

Jayden called the bartender over and ordered herself another beer.  "Definite preference for not being dead, here."  She nodded in his direction, taking a sip of her drink.  "As for work, nothing steady at the moment.  Odd jobs here and there."  Translation: mostly illegal and mostly stealing from those with more money than they really needed anyway.  All of her 'acceptable' work was volunteer and non-paid.

"Well then, lets hope for pipe dreams and cupcakes," she agreed with a laugh of her own.  Who could say no to free cupcakes?  It was as good a sign of everything magically righting itself in the universe as any.  Not that it would ever happen, of course, but today with the day of dreams.

"It sounds like you've got some versatility yourself, there," she accepted the clink of glasses before taking another drink.  The alcohol was just starting to warm her insides.  "Believe me, its saved my ass more than once.  Of course, its gotten me into trouble more than once too, but you take the bad with the good, right?"  Another laugh, this one slightly self-depreciating.  

Odd jobs here and there."

Henry chuckled, not at the girls expense but at himself. He thought back to when he was younger. That had been his exact line when people added what he did. Odd job sounded so much better than "stealing cars, selling drugs, and fighting." He gave her punk style another look and decided maybe punk was the new gangster, how time moves on.

"Be careful with those odd jobs," He said half jokingly pointing a finger from around his glass, "Mine landed me in an orange jumpsuit for a few years."

He gave a knowing little wink as she talked about her powers. She seemed surprisingly easy going in contrast to the harsh attire. It was refreshing.

"Exactly. I've had my bacon saved from the fryer more than once cause of it." He said.

The bar door opened behind him and he turned to see a group of about half a dozen fry boys piling into the place. They talked excitedly SD they chose a table and one wearing an honest to God letterman jacket came up and ordered a few pitchers. Henry saw him look at the girls hands and his nose wrinkled up in distaste.

He returned to his table and Henry heard hushed conversation and saw glances being shot their way as words like "freak" and "weirdo" drifted above the jukebox. He let out a sigh and took another drink.

Something about the way the older man chuckled made it obvious that he understood exactly what she meant by 'odd jobs'.  His words offered a moment later clarified that suspicion.  "Believe me, there's been a couple of close calls."  She grimaced at the recollection.  Ending up in prison was one of her greatest fears.  "I try to work smart and I try to work at night.  Then again, I'm sure every criminal out there who's ended up behind bars has said pretty exactly the same thing, right?"  Man, that was kind of depressing to think about.

"Sometimes its good to be special."  Gods knew she didn't have much else going for her in life.  

The doors opened and a group of loud, obnoxious frat boys entered.  One of her least favourite types of people, too many of them had a sense of misplaced entitlement.  Maybe it was judgemental of her to assume them to be judgemental bullies themselves, but they made no effort to hide their words and their words belied the truth of her assumption: talk of freaks and weirdos and glances directed at the pair of them.  In the dim light of the bar, she wasn't sure if it was the claws or not.  Could be the claws, or could be the mohawk: either way they were bigots and big mouths.

Jayden shared an exasperated look and ordered another drink herself.

I'm sure every criminal out there who's ended up behind bars has said pretty exactly the same thing, right?"

Damn. He knew the struggle she was discussing. Keeping away from the law and out of the jailhouse was not an easy task. You had to be smart, quick, and capable. All skills Henry valued.

"You looking for some straight work? I could offer you a job, i own a bakery. No experience required. You won't make a killing, but you'd not have to worry about the risk either." Henry offered.

Ugh. Too much booze, his caring side was leaking out. Beneath Henry's harsh exterior he had a soft spot, especially for those who needed a leg up. All he could do was offer.

One of the frat boy rejects rose and walked over to the girls other side. He leaned against the bar as his friends watched him chuckling.

"Hey kitty cat. You come here often." He said mockingly.

Here we go.

Henry thought of about a dozen violent things he could do to the guy. But he didn't move, didn't even twitch as he took another drink. The girl was an adult, she could handle herself. If she was as rough and tumble as she seemed it might be more logical to worry for his safety than hers.

"I don't know that I'm cut out for straight work," Jayden answered with a sigh.  "And especially not straight work with the public.  I'm confrontational, stubborn and a little unstable."  Not that she had a problem with who and what she was, but knowing your limitations was important.  She took another drink.  
"Tried it once.  Lets just say it didn't last long and it didn't end well."  Apparently you weren't supposed to snap and go off on angry customers.  Things like that got you fired.  It was the one and only time she'd tried for an actual real job.  Besides, minimum wage doing something she hated and wasn't good at compared to significantly more than that doing something she excelled at at sometimes genuinely enjoyed despite its moral dubiousness?  No contest.

"Hey kitty cat. You come here often."

Predictable.  Far too predictable.  And here she was having such a good time, too.

"This kitty cat is more than capable of drawing blood.  I'd go back to my table and enjoy your night, if I was you."  She didn't move, didn't raise her voice and barely glanced at the frat boys as she spoke.  She didn't want to fight but she'd do what needed doing if that's what it came to.  Under her clothing, black lizard scales grew to cover all areas currently covered by clothing.  If a fight erupted, they'd cover her visible bits as well.  In a fight, body armor was a boon.

Henry gave an accepting nod as the girl turned down the work offer. He understood, the minimum wage grind wasn't for everyone. He would probably have shot down the offer at her age too. Sometimes people had to walk the path for a while until they ran into a road block.

"Offer stands." He said simply taking another drink.

The girl gave what Henry considered a polite rejection to the frat guy. Henry felt a smirk form on his face. The guy also broke into a grin, though his was full of nothing positive. He leaned further on the bar.

"Oh come on, I'm sure you can't get many offers of a good time from anyone normal. You should be flattered." He snarked.

"I'd take the girls advice." Henry said simply setting down his glass.

"Oh?" The frat boy responded, "stay out of it gramps. I think she likes the attention, why else walk around like that?"

Gramps huh? The pang of annoyance and anger rushed through Henry and he gave the girl a look. If she decided to move he decided he would have her back.

"Try my kid." Henry said to the guy.