If You Like Pina Coladas...

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor wasn't all that sure what had triggered the bar fight.  It was probably the fight he'd started with some anti-mutant fucktard that ended up spilling across the center of the bar, over a couple tables and into the bar itself that caused the chaos that was now raging within the bar, though he'd certainly claim innocence until he was blue in the face.  Whatever the cause, the bar had erupted in a good old fashioned free-for-all that sent the decent folk who were working or enjoying a drink rushing for the exits and ducking under tables. Taylor McCarthy was not one of those folk.

The thing about such hectic and unpredictable melees where the myriad of common misconceptions regarding many of the tropes surrounding them.  One notable instance of this is the simple fact that most wooden chairs, at least not the kind you find in most bars, do not crumble when they strike a human (or mutant) body.  In fact, more often than not the body in which it's been swung toward generally gets the worse end of the exchange.  Taylor was happily finding this out when someone had attacked him from behind with one of the chairs that were positioned around the tables.  With his adrenaline still pumping Taylor wasn't felled by the blow though he was startled by how much it goddamn hurt.

When the police sirens were close enough to be heard over the din that was when the experienced bar brawlers knew it was time to make their leave.  Taylor ducked away, using his power to help him navigate the flying beer bottles, flipped tables, swinging chairs and pool cues until he nearly exploded out of the back door and tumbled to the wet concrete in the back alley behind the bar.  He rolled forward until he got his feet beneath him and pushed back up to a standing position before realizing he wasn't alone.  "Jesus Fucking Christ!"  He exclaimed as he started trotting down the alley away from the bar.  Anyone with half a brain would know putting distance between themselves and the scene of a massive battle royale was probably the best course of action.  "I think I broke my hand on one of those big fuckers!"  He shook his hand out a little as he walked, his thick, Irish accent coming through between heavy breaths.

[Layla Harlow]

This was what she got for going out after classes on her one day to herself. A bar fight. A bunch of drunk morons wailing on each other simply because one guy got pushed into another or someone knocked over a beer that wasn't his. Honestly, Layla had always wondered what triggered people to just fight without rhyme or reason. Whenever she fought, it was for a cause, there was a purpose behind it and most of the time that involved protecting her seven year old from getting hurt. Lately, she'd been struggling with her mom duties. Nicholas was being subjected to the younger version of a bar brawl and she was trying to keep her head level about it. Nicholas didn't know how to fight, and she didn't know if he should be taught by his mom or by someone who was doing better than just moderately okay in self-defense classes.

For the beginning of the fight, she'd been able to stay out of the line of fire, but as soon as a beer bottle whizzed past her head, she rolled her eyes and settled for ducking out without throwing any punches of her own. Of course, it hadn't been as easy as that. On the way out she got slammed into by a tall man who could barely stand with as intoxicated as he was and when he went to put his hands on her, mistaking her for another man or just not giving a shit about gender, she slammed the heel of her palm into his nose and swept his legs out from under him, before pushing him towards the rest of the fight so she could make her exit.

Once out the door, she shook her head and glanced down the alley, hearing the sirens approaching from down the street. Any second now they'd be in earshot of the club over the yelling and grunting and fighting. That was when everyone would be diving for the door, and she wasn't going to be standing anywhere near it when they bum-rushed their way out. She hung outside by the wall to see how long it would take, just for the sheer entertainment of people watching. As soon as the door burst open, she pushed off the wall and began walking down the alley.

From behind her, she heard people scattering in all directions, only one voice seemed to be heading in the direction she was going. Layla glanced over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow, "Maybe you should have gone for someone your size instead? Might have ended a little less painful for ya." She hadn't really meant it to be rude, as if he couldn't handle himself, she was sure he did just fine, but it seemed the obvious response to what he'd said. Even if he was just talking to himself.

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped. Whoever this girl was she was cute and had a certain wit about her. He flexed his hand, the laugh dying down with an almost contented sigh as he eyed the redness and swelling that was already forming on his knuckles. He was no stranger to scarps and fights. If there was something broken in there it certainly wouldn't have been the first time he'd cracked a bone on someone's face and more than likely wouldn't be the last.

"What fun is that?" Taylor said, holding his arms out with a triumphant shrug while he glanced to the young woman moving along beside him. "The little guys just don't put up as much of a fight." His arms fell and he cast a short look over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as flashing lights filled the mouth of the alley behind them. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He had a bad feeling about this. "What about you?" He asked, smirking a bit even as he started to formulate some sort of course of action to escape. His eyes lifted up to the scaffoldings and windows above them. "You just get yourself mixed up in bar fights for fun?"

[Layla Harlow]

Whoever this guy was, he seemed cocky if nothing else. She hadn't paid any attention to who he'd fought, how well he'd fought or if the other guy looked worse for wear. Frankly, he could have been the best fighter to walk this side of the alley. She wouldn't have known, wouldn't have cared and probably wouldn't have believed it anyway. In fact, she was almost certain she could take him in a fight. Her being a girl aside, she was a fighter by nature and she'd put her fair share of guys on the ground, without cheating and kicking him in the gonads. She didn't walk around talking about it or take pride in how big or small the guy was....alright, perhaps that last part was a lie, but still, she wasn't going to tell him any of that.

"The fun of it is not having to worry about broken fingers, wrists, and whatever else is fucked up with your hand," She shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at the lights. Her eyes squinted and she groaned. It wasn't as though she had done anything wrong, for once. She was legally allowed to drink, hadn't hit anybody for grabbing her the wrong way and had left before things got too out of hand. But walking alongside this numbskull, she wondered if she'd get roped in with him.

Patch would love that. Bailing her out of jail for something she hadn't even done. Nicky would love it even more, thinking his mom was a bad ass or something. Which she was, but he was too young to know why still. "What if I do? I'd say I held my own, not even a scratch on me." Layla looked back at him and smirked, "Can't say the same about yourself. Might wanna shove that hand of yours in your pocket so the cops don't suspect anything."

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor laughed out loud at the young woman's almost defensive response. He cast a mischievous glance her way and shrugged. He'd managed to pick up far more than most during the melee though he couldn't recall seeing her anywhere. He'd take her word for it seeing as how she, as she'd already pointed out, didn't look as though she'd been hurt and had exited the scuffle at roughly the same time as he did. At the very least she knew how to stay out of the way, something Taylor could stand a lesson or two in.

"What? This?" Taylor lifted his already swelling hand while his eyes shifted back upward. The gesture turned into a dismissive wave. "It's nothing. Happens all the time. And the cops aren't going to know I was even here." His eyes lit up as he spotted exactly what he was looking for. A fire escape scaffolding hanging roughly fifteen feet from the ground. He flashed a grin in Layla's direction before taking a standing leap upward, using his good hand to grasp onto the metal of the fire escape and pull himself up and over the railing. "And you, I'd suggest follow along unless you want to spend all night answering questions about who started that little fight." He called down to her even as he knelt to start lowering the ladder to the floor of the alley.

[Layla Harlow]

His attitude only furthered her annoyance, mostly because she could see herself in it. They were both dismissive, indifferent and a little on the arrogant side, but she never dealt with anyone like her, so she couldn't quite understand until now. It made her feel bad for Patch having to deal with it all the time. Yet she found herself smiling in spite of what she thought. There was something sort of comical in the way he just thought he was a certified bad ass. She couldn't place whether it was endearing or just funny to her.

"So that means you either actively seek out fights, or people just feel compelled to hit you at the very sight of your face?" Of course she believed that it was the former rather than the latter, but the latter came with a funnier visual in her mind. Layla arched an eyebrow as she watched his eyes move upward. She wondered if he was like a cat with ADHD that spoke and then all of a sudden saw something that they had to stare at for a few minutes before coming back to the situation at hand. It wasn't until her eyes followed his that she understood what he meant. He was planning an escape and he suggested that she follow him.

The last thing she needed was to be stuck going downtown to talk about a fight that she hadn't even been involved in. She had to pick up Nicholas from Patch's place and take him home. She had never gone a full night without him and she wasn't about to start. Layla had to be there when he woke up, she had to be there to tuck him in even if it was after he went to bed. And she definitely couldn't do that to Patch, he'd offered to babysit, but that didn't mean he should be stuck with someone else's responsibility for the whole night, especially when Layla hadn't said she'd be gone that long. So perhaps he was right, maybe she did want to follow, "Fine. Hurry up."

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor stood atop the scaffolding, carefully lowering the ladder down to the young woman as she spoke. His head shook, the grin that had been plastered on his face since they'd rushed out of the bar hardly wavering. "Oh, come now." He said, grinning down to her. "Do I look like a fighter to you?" He chuckled. "I may be a fighter by trade, but I'm a lover at heart." And with that he couldn't help but give her a sly wink to go along with his assertion.

Once the ladder was down as far as it could go, Taylor pulled away from the railing to investigate the windows he was nearby. Shades were drawn making it difficult to see what sort of building it was he was breaking into but that was hardly a deterrent. The shades weren't the kind usually found in apartments so he figured he was probably not going to get busted for breaking into someone's home. At least he had that going for him. "Anyway." He called, reaching to his belt to unfasten the holster that carried a small, black finished multi-tool to help him work on the window. "What's your hurry?" He paused as he worked the knife blade in through a crack in order to start fiddling with the window latch. "You got a hot date to get to? If not, I was thinking you and me could turn this into a proper night." The grin returned as the latch opened with a soft, muffled click. "Maybe catch a movie." He glanced down long enough to slip the multi-tool back into its holster. "Grab something to eat downtown."

[Layla Harlow]

"So then it's the people just wanting to hit you because of your face? I could get behind that idea I think," She said with yet another roll of her eyes. Honestly she felt as though they would roll right out of her head if he kept talking because the words coming out of his suck hole were just ridiculous. If he was trying to charm her, the only thing that was even working in his favor was the fact that he was adventurous enough to break into a house just to escape from the cops. Her inner rebel from those teenage years had a weakness for bad boys which was exactly how she ended up with her son. With that said, she couldn't see this guy being able to handle a seven year old. Least of all her seven year old.

While he looked around, she made her way up the ladder, carefully maneuvering her way up to where he was. Of course she wasn't keen on the idea of breaking in anywhere for fear of being caught doing something that would still land her in jail, but he seemed like he knew what he was doing. And this wasn't her first time either, though it had been years since her sneaking around days. Layla watched him work on the window and she chewed on her lip when he asked her where she had to be in such a hurry. She could only imagine how much he would laugh if she told him that she had a little boy to get home to and she had her best friend to relieve from babysitting duty.

"Matter of fact, I do have a hot date," He didn't need to know that the date she had made was to tuck in her baby boy. He also didn't need to know that she was going home to the two most important men in her life. "I'm sure you've got another number on speed dial that you can hit up for that movie and 'proper night' though." And that was just fine with her, the idea of a date made her stomach twist in knots and only made her want to go back to her apartment and curl up in bed with her son more. She still wasn't quite ready for that step, it hadn't been long enough yet.

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor issued a low chuckle. This girl, whoever the hell she was, had a mouth on her, that was for sure. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment but her wit hadn't deterred him in the slightest. In fact, it may have been seen as endearing. "You don't need to worry about this face, luv." He replied, casting a brief smirk over his shoulder toward Layla. "It can take care of itself." And with that he shimmied the window open and slipped inside.

"You might think that." Taylor said, standing straight as he looked over the room he'd just broken into. It looked like an office of some sort which was met as a relief to Taylor. Breaking and entering into someone's home was hardly on his list of things he wanted to do tonight. He'd already gotten into enough potential trouble. He turned, pausing long enough to help Layla climb through the window if she'd let him. "But all of my numbers are from home." He said with a chuckle. Of course he was lying through his teeth. Taylor, in spite of his free spirited ways had never been about that life. At least he hadn't been since returning to the US. He wasn't sure what it was about the country that seemed to have a calming affect on him.

"A date, really?" Taylor asked a-matter-of-factly, opening the door and peeking out into the hall that stretched out before him. That was the thing about Taylor's power, which had been running full speed the moment the bar had blown up. His mind processed and registered information at such an alarming rate he was able to catch every subtle tick and nuance of Layla's face as she spoke. Over the years he'd learned to trust his instincts when it came to deciphering them. Something about Layla's answer didn't fully ring true. "Who's waiting for you?" He asked, waving her to follow him as he slipped out into the hall.

[Layla Harlow]

"I worry more about those who have to look at your face." Surely he had to see that he was getting nowhere with his overly-confident and smart ass remarks. If anything he was just goading her into saying more snarky things as if he enjoyed the attitude she gave off. It was typically hidden behind her motherly outlook on life, but deep down she had a nasty attitude towards a lot of people. Even worse when they thought that they could win anyone and anything over with just a smirk. Guys like him and guys like Nicholas's sperm donor. Snap judgment, and yet she couldn't see him as anything other than a huge douche-nozzle. Only those types used pet names like 'luv' with a girl they didn't even know.

Snorting rather loudly, Layla shook her head, "Oh I'm sure. Next thing you're going to tell me is that you're a real stand-up gentleman who never ever uses girls, right?" When he offered to help her through the window she pushed his hand away and climbed through on her own. Some things never changed and one of those was her outrageous stubbornness as well as her overwhelming sense of independence. His response had also pushed her very near her bullshit capacity and she debated on finding her own way out of this mess. One she shouldn't have even been in since she hadn't been part of the fight, hadn't even seen it and wasn't anywhere near where it had stemmed from. But no, she'd decided to follow this dunce cap in front of her.

His questioning response left her with a deeper set frown on her face. If he really wanted to push her on information at this precise moment, she was sure she'd end up getting into a fight, but it would end up being one-sided and it would consist of her hitting him and attempting an escape. Maybe she'd even rat him out. No, even with as much as she was starting to dislike this guy, she didn't see the point in even getting involved with the police just to put blame on him. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She answered instead, the level of patience she'd had to learn after having a child helped her in that moment and kept her from doing anything too brash. She followed him into the hall and decidedly kept her answer at that, nothing else given. He could ask and probe as much as he wanted, but she wasn't giving up her personal story that easily.

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor actually had to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing at the quickly spouted, yet undeniably juvenile response. His face? He didn't have to be an arrogant prick to know there wasn't much wrong with his face. As for this girl it was obvious she was coming into all this with some very strong preconceived notions. That was fine, he was used to those by now. He was 24 years old and had a bit of a mouth on him as well as a habit of drinking too much and fooling around with certain ladies he probably shouldn't. His former officers in the Irish Army could attest to that.

"If I was really trying to take advantage of or use you, then why would I ask you out on an innocent, proper date?" He pointed out as he moved further out into the hall. "But I can tell when a lady's not interested." Taylor noted. He had no intention on spending any more time in this building as he had to. Surely there was another route out of here.

"Well, yes. I would." Taylor shrugged, casting a short glance over his shoulder as he moved quietly down the hall. He hadn't quite thought this all through, even if he'd managed to escape the immediate thread of law enforcement. Now he found himself stuck in some random building without much of an idea how the hell to get out. This was a perfect example of his impulsiveness leading him into more trouble. "I asked, didn't I?" He said before veering to the left and started down a darkened staircase. At the very least if they got to the ground floor they could find another way out of here. "But, hey, you're right. It's none of my business." Taylor lifted both hands for emphasis. He wasn't going to push or probe. This was all tense enough as it stood. The last thing he needed was to make it worse.

[Layla Harlow]

Layla may have already thought poorly of him, but it wasn't because she actually thought he was a tool, it was because she couldn't find it in herself to like much of anyone as of late. Least of all when she was getting a front that people put on for the outside world instead of showing who they really were. Layla was guilty of it, too. She put on this front of being a tough girl with a bad attitude who seemingly had her shit together. He didn't know that she wasn't exactly that. He didn't know that she was the biggest mess of a person who was completely lost in her own life, wandering around trying to find what she was going to do next and how she was going to accomplish anything. Just as much as she didn't know if he was actually a guy with depth rather than this drunken moron who got into fights and seemed like a man slut. She struggled with getting to know people because she wanted to know them, the unfiltered, true to the core them. But who gave up that information upon first impression? No one.

"Maybe that's part of your ploy. Although the effort wouldn't be much worth the reward I suppose," She answered blandly. Layla didn't know that she wasn't interested. It was a complicated feeling. On the one hand, he was hot, sure. On the other, he was horribly frustrating. And truth be told, she could hardly remember what it was like first falling for someone. She hadn't been annoyed by Isaac when she met him, it was just sort of a click, but they'd had their clashing moments, too. This guy had been nothing but a clash since he caught up with her in the alley.

Layla frowned, "No, it's not your business. But if you really want to know, and since I'll probably never see you again after this, I suppose it doesn't matter what I tell you." She glanced around, feeling for the wall as she followed him down the stairs. It was dark ands he sure as hell wasn't about to trip down the stairs or have him pull some Hercules shit that would make her feel as though she needed to be thankful she was with him. "I have to get home to my seven year old son so that I can tuck him in. One snide or asshole-ish remark and I push you down the stairs, got it?"

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor exhaled slowly and shook his head in the dark. This was all starting to give him deja vu. He'd hardly actually said a word to this girl that could actually be considered offensive, lewd or even flirtatious. Sure he'd asked her out under dubious circumstances but it was a fair offer to meet in a much more laid back environment. He didn't think he'd been so bad that it warranted such a reaction. This girl obviously had her own issues and he had already waded through his share of baggage for the sake of a pretty face.

Taylor was about to tell Layla this when she spoke and divulged a bit of personal information that rendered him speechless. He glanced over his shoulder and peered at her in the darkness. He couldn't see her features, only the outline of her form as they moved slowly along. He gave another nod then turned his attention back to the direction he was going. "Right." He said, his tone low and almost understanding in a way. "I get it." Something in his voice had instantly softened. "You're just trying to get home to your boy without trouble. I can respect that." He held onto enough of his own parental issues to be understanding of someone wanting to do right by their children. "How about I get you out of this mess and we'll call it even, yeah?"

[Layla Harlow]

Layla didn't know why she said it, other than what she'd already justified to him. She wouldn't likely see him ever again, if he said anything, she was in perfect position to push him and she knew that even if she was young, she shouldn't feel so embarrassed about having a child. She'd stopped regretting it, stopped seeing it as such a bad thing, but she was still wary of telling other people. Reactions often were different across the board. Ranging from judgment to acceptance. One way or another, she tried not to care what she got from random strangers. Least of all ones that she met outside of a bar fight.

To be honest, she definitely hadn't expected acceptance from the guy in front of her. Although he was helping her out of the mess with the cops, she was prejudice. Guys made her wary and uncomfortable. She still hadn't quite gotten over her aversion to them, even after being married. But when she noted the change in his tone, she could feel the guilt starting to swell up in her chest. Guilt for being so judgmental after she'd told him not to be of her situation. She'd been judging him all night without a single piece of information about him. And here he was, confronted with a personal piece of her life and he'd accepted it without any smart ass comments or jokes. Layla frowned, yup, she was most definitely the asshole here.

"Uh, yeah. I am. Thanks," She answered a little sheepishly, still following him down. "Even? I guess that's fair. I mean I did kind of save you from the cops, too huh?" Layla offered as a joke, hoping that maybe she'd be able to salvage her image. She chewed on her lower lip and sighed, "Sorry." She didn't elaborate, she didn't explain. What good would come from that? He could take it as he wanted, her apologizing for everything or something small. She didn't care, the apology was to appease her own guilt. Though she knew it wouldn't work quite that well if he didn't actually accept it.

[Taylor McCarthy]

"You only need to apologize if you did something wrong." Taylor replied to Layla's apology without missing a beat. He didn't take his eyes off the dimly lit stairs he was descending, lest he find himself tripping and falling the rest of the way. He may have been an agile son of a bitch but he had no intent on testing fate any more than he already had tonight. The last thing he needed would be to take a tumble and find himself in the emergency room. He'd almost rather deal with the cops. "You're not the first person to think I'm an ass." He admitted with a light chuckle. "After a while I came to the conclusion I must have a punchable face."

Once his feet touched the floor, Taylor paused. "Watch out, there." He said quietly. "Last step." The ground floor of the building was lined with large windows along the top which allowed enough ambient light in to show they had broken into what looked to be an autoshop of some sort. A handful of cars were positioned at various work stations throughout the garage, most of them shrouded by heavy, cloth covers. A massive pickup truck with its wheels removed was resting atop a wide lift in the center of the room. "Geezus." Taylor said, moving into the garage and peering up at the huge vehicle. "How much you wanna bet the guy that owns this is a little, five foot tall fucker with a complex?" He asked, his Irish accent seemingly growing thicker the lighter his mood got,