ten_of_swords | (no subject)

She grins, turning her head enough that her lips brush his.

"Always, pet. Got anything particular in mind?"

He looks around the casino.

"You like cards or absolute, pure luck?" he asks, nipping her earlobe.

She hums.

"Boys taught me how to play a decent hand of poker. Besides, I like things with a little skill involved."

"All right."

He leads her to a Three Card Poker table. After she's seated, he hands her a stack of yellow poker chips, matching the other players' stacks.

"Let's see how well you do, Legs."

"Wish me luck."

The first few hands, she manages to break roughly even. Then she settles into the swing of things and the chip count creeps higher.

She eyes her latest set of cards, running a stack of chips through her fingers.

"Raise."

He grins as he watches her. She's smart. Intuitive. A Queen should never be allowed near a poker table. He knew Mary Anne could easily clean these chums out, turning her starting $1000 into $6000.

Ruin orders them champagne. Harder stuff can come later, maybe when they move to the pure luck areas and her intelligence could stand being knocked down a few pegs by tequila.

She flashes him a smile when he places the order; she can afford to drink champagne now and stay sharp for a while longer.

The raise pays off and she stacks her latest round of chips. One of the other players comments on her skill and she laughs it off as luck, saying she hasn't played in years.

He leans down to whisper in her ear.

"You're a wise risk taker."

The champagne arrives and he places a glass at her elbow, for when she desires it.

"You're half right," she whispers back.

Another few hands (along with a glass or two of champagne) go by; she takes a few losses, but manages to build things back up again.

"Think I may try my luck at another table, pet. Any objections?"

"None at all."

He excuses them, taking their chips with them.

"Luck or more cards? There's Baccarat, you'd like something a little more... risky..."

She laughs.

"About all I know from Baccarat I learned from James Bond. Think I could probably make a run of it, though. Besides--"

She hooks an arm around his waist, murmuring in his ear. "--risk is fun."

He lightly nips at her collarbone and escorts her to the Baccarat table. He remains behind her, sipping his champagne, watching the dealer shuffle then deal two initial cards to each player.

"Risk is always fun," he murmurs, eyes dark.

She looks at her cards--Jack and King, and of no real use. She gestures for another card.

"Le grande. The lady has nine."

She smiles; not a bad way to open things. She likes this game already.

Ruin pulls up an extra chair and sits, remaining quiet, but aware.

"Have you ever played the game before?" he murmurs, breath teasing her ear as their champagne is topped off.

"You're distracting me," she singsongs softly as she places her bet.

"And no, although I watched enough spy movies to figure out the rules."

He chuckles, his hand moving under the table to tease her thigh through her clothing.

"Am I?"

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, ostensibly concentrating on her cards.

"Mhm."

She stands with six.

Concentration is a lot of fun.

His hand moves higher, a little further inward.

"Good hand?" he asks. Ruin was not a card player. His choice was chance, every time.

"Not bad."

She takes a sip of champagne; one of the other players asks for a third card.

"Depends on how things turn out."

He finish his glass, allows a second refill, then puts his cold hand back on her upper thigh.

"Always depends on how things turn out, Legs."

"Could have been better," she murmurs.

She loses to a man with eight, nodding graciously when he rakes in the pot.

The next hand--Queen and an eight. She places her bet.

"This, though...this is good."

His thoughts echo in her own mind.

Queens are always good.

She bites back a smile.

"Raise."

Pity they don't have value in this game; she'll have to do as a good luck charm.

They hold plenty of value in my game.

To make his point clear, his hand finally travels to the midpoint of her trousers, fondling her casualy through the fabric.

She doesn't turn her head, but her eyes shift very slowly to look at him.

If I lose all this money because you're...distracting me...

She sighs (in relief?) when she wins this hand.

No pun intended.