Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

Summary: Ororo finds Remy in a bar and trouble follows. Ororo/Remy friendship!

Note: Just a short one from the bartender's POV. Hope it's good, and I'll continue my other X-Men fic after this. Title taken from a song from the awesome new AC/DC's album, Black Ice.

Stormy May Day

Jimmy wiped his last beer glass with his filthy rag and set it down, ready to serve more people. It was a Saturday night, and he knew folks would come. He was content. After all, his bar was doing well, snugly fitting on the corner of a busy street, attracting consumers on a regular basis. It wasn't much. The place was small and dirty, but with a couple of dim lights hanging about, a jukebox and posters of scantily clad women on the walls, it was successful enough. He loved all his consumers.

Well, except for Kyle. And his dumbass cronies, he added. Bunch of no lives whom no doubt he was sure, made their living by doing odd jobs and beating up smaller citizens then them. They practically caused trouble every time they were in his bar. Having drunken tussles with others, getting into fist fights and such.

To make it worse, they usually won. Everybody knew not to mess with them. Their clothes were forever tattered and torn, constant rugged stubble on their double chins. The entire gang was tall and fat, their muscles concealed under layers after layers of flesh. Pigs, Jimmy cursed.

Filling a glass with beer and handing it to a guy, Jimmy glanced over at the group. They were sitting on the far side as usual, already looking like they had one too many drinks. He sighed. He was seriously hoping they wouldn't cause any kinds of trouble today. He had almost had it with them.

Shaking his head, he surveyed his crowd. Apart from the usual regulars, there was a guy, sitting in the corner near the counter nursing a chilled bottle and puffing on a cigarette in his mouth, trying to remain out of sight. Jimmy knew the guy was new, he had never seen him before in his life. His hair was long and dark, and his features were well defined. He could see a rough stubble around his lips, but the eyes were a mystery, since the man was wearing shades. God knows why, he thought dryly. His body was slim, yet muscular at the same time. Overall, a fine, handsome, tall young man.

Jimmy busied himself the next hour or so, serving customers and all the while keeping an eye out for Kyle and his increasingly wasted group. The baseball bat below the counter kept him reassured. He knew how to use it if there was ever the case. He hoped not of course.

The bell chimed as the doors opened, letting a gust of wind into the bar. Jimmy looked up and his jaw dropped. Oh my…

A woman had just entered. Her hair stood out immediately. It was long and platinum, contrasting strongly with her complexion. Her skin was flawless and mocha coloured, and she was wearing what seemed to be a dark, thick, leather outfit, fitting her slender body perfectly. Jimmy could just make out her sharp features and her eyes under the crappy lighting. They were a brilliant blue, enough to put the brightest sapphire to shame. She was, to Jimmy, simply a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Unfortunately for her, Jimmy wasn't the only who noticed her stunning beauty. There were almost instant wolf whistles and catcalls from the crowd, but the woman ignored everything and looked around the bar, searching, her eyes resting on the new guy in the corner, and made her way proudly to his table and sat down.

The man raised his head to look at her, and took the cigarette from his mouth and put it out on the table, like it was an automatic reaction. He nodded in her direction, acknowledging her presence.

''Stormy.''

Jimmy raised his brows. Was he talking about the weather? Yes, it did seem like it was going to rain. She on the other hand, said nothing, though he could have sworn he saw a wave of irritation pass over her face when the man spoke. Wondering why she was still sitting there and not doing anything, he couldn't resist the urge and went over to her.

''Can I get you anything, love?'' Jimmy nearly kicked himself. Love? Jesus. Way to go Jimmy, way to go. He waited patiently, while she looked over at him. His breath caught as he found those eyes staring into his own. Oh. My. God.

''No. I am fine, thank you.''

Not wanting to turn back and look like an idiot, Jimmy asked the man.

''And what about you, need anything?''

The man stared dully at his near empty bottle and was about to reply when the woman cut him off to answer.

''No, it is alright. He is fine as well, thank you very much.''

Jimmy nodded his head and went back to the counter, hoping his legs wouldn't give way. What the hell was someone like that doing in his bar? The place smelled of smoke, sweat, vomit and urine, and Jimmy felt sick thinking how someone so gorgeous was doing in a piss poor pub like his. He sat on his stool, choosing instead to listen to the conversation taking place.

''Remy, you have to stop this.''

He had his name for the new guy, and he realised the woman had a thick African accent. Both of them definitely weren't from around here.

''Wad' you doin' 'ere, chere? 'Dis no place for you.''

''Neither is it one for you, my friend. Let us talk about this at the mansion.''

''Stormy, you shouldn' be 'ere! Remy'll see you back at 'de mansion soon, promise.''

Jimmy had to suppress a chuckle. No, he definitely wasn't talking about the weather. It seemed to be a nickname for her, and he found it funny how the guy was talking in third person. What a weirdo, he mused.

''I am not leaving this place without you. If you want to act irresponsibly, you can do so at the mansion. But know this, what happened was not your fault.''

The guy named Remy looked straight at her and shook his head.

''Non, Stormy. 'De mission was to-''

''There was nothing you could have done, do you understand? No one is blaming you. Just come back home.''

It was no longer a simple talk between two friends, Jimmy could tell. No, they seemed to be talking about some failed mission. Who on Earth were there, and what were they working as? It was serious.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kyle jerk his head towards the woman called Stormy and got up unsteadily. Oh great. This was so not what he wanted. Couldn't he just have stopped with the crude sexual jokes he was making while pointing to the posters? No, Kyle had to be a bastard. Or he wouldn't have been Kyle.

Jimmy watched with growing uneasiness as he saw Kyle lumbering drunkenly towards the two friends sitting in the corner. He dragged his feet, bumped and sweared at the quiet drinkers minding their own business, before standing still in front of the table occupied by the new comers.

''Heeey there, beauuutiful.'' No, this definitely wasn't good. Kyle was swaying on his feet, looking on the verge of toppling and he was slurring his speech. Jimmy saw Remy look at Kyle with distaste, annoyance barely concealed on his face while the lady just wrinkled her nose at the foul, putrid breath of Kyle and chose to ignore him.

Kyle blinked stupidly, unsure of what to make of this turn of events. He was never ignored. So he reverted to his usual, jerk self. Jimmy groaned. Shit.

''I wasss talking to you, you bitch.''

Time seemed to come to a standstill as the two people stood up immediately, facing Kyle, with Remy instinctively pushing his friend behind him as he stood protectively in front of her, one hand in his pocket, as if he was going to take out a gun or something.

Jimmy bit his lip. He didn't want anything to get out of hand. He definitely didn't want any shooting in his bar. He thought fast, his hand gripping the baseball bat and pondering whether to call the cops, while the entire crowd had their eyes glued to the trio in the corner, secretly hoping for it to come to blows so they could have some entertainment. Everything was too tense for Jimmy's liking.

''Remy won' repeat 'dat if 'e were you, mon ami.''

Note: So please, review! I appreciate any comment you have, and I'll finish this in the next chapter.