Fic: Face Off 4/4
Title: Face Off 4/4
Pairing: Two-Face and Scarface
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: Just like Fox, I don't really belong here. DC owns the characters, Hoyle owns the cards. The ideas are mostly mine.
Warning: A new bet is made
Word Count: 1247
A/N: Written for arch_schatten 's birthday. Sorry it has taken so long to update this.
Part 1 can be found here. Part 2 can be found here. Part 3 can be found here. This is part 4!
"Just a game?"
The last word hung in the air as Two-Face placed both barrels of his Remington Derringer flush against the front of the furry mask.
The man in the mask fidgeted. "I mean five-card draw. Nobody plays that anymore."
"And that point was important enough for you to intrude on our bet?"
He glanced down at his hand, still covering the card. "I didn't ruin anything. Nobody saw the card."
Two-Face turned to the crowd. "Catwoman?"
A grim smile. "Queen of hearts."
A trickle of sweat worked its way down to the chin of the man in the mask.
"Oswald?"
"The lovely feline is correct. The queen of hearts."
"Croc?"
"Well, it was a red queen. Uh... she was looking to the right..."
The Mad Hatter laughed. "In the deck they are using, that would be the queen of hearts."
The man in the fox mask swallowed audibly.
Two-Face lifted the man's hand. Moving quickly, he flipped the card over. It was the queen of hearts.
Both men looked down at the card.
"Well then... uh..." Two-Face paused. "Who are you, again? Otter?"
"Fox."
"Right. Fox. So Foxy... what's your real name?"
"Warren."
"Well, then Warren, it looks like you just bought into our game."
"I'm sorry?"
From across the table, Scarface's mouth clacked open and shut as a cackle of laughter shot out from it. "Not yet youse ain't. But I gots me a feeling this night just got more inneresting. What're youse thinking, Two-Face?"
Two-Face looked down at his coin. "Well, I figure our friend Warren, here, gets a fair shot to save himself. He gets that queen and whatever else he gets. Fate decides. If he wins, he walks out the door a happy man. Next highest hand wins our bet."
Scarface's head bobbled in something that looked like a nod. "And if he loses?"
"If he loses then one of us gets to give him a scar and maybe, if he lives through it, he earns the name 'Fox.' Winner gets the honors."
Warren looked wildly around the room. "Wait... wait... if it's about the bet... the bet. Your bet was over the scars, right? No problem. I'll pay to have them fixed."
A laugh half-escaped Two-Face's mouth. "Fixed?"
A nod. "Yeah... I can... My father knows a guy who..." He looked around the room, eyes seemingly fading in and out of focus. "The winner gets to use the pot to pay for his surgery, right?"
Silence. A bead of sweat dropped from under the mask.
"Now, now... wait a minute. You can't seriously mean that... That's crazy!"
A clack of wood hitting wood. "No, that ain't crazy. Ya wanna know for crazy? Ya freaking ambasol... Crazy is buttin' in when serious peoples is havin' a serious bet. Ain't that right, dummy?"
Arnold Wesker looked across the table at the Fox then darted his eyes down toward the floor. "Gee, Mr. Scarface... don't you think that maybe you could let him go this time. I mean, the bet would be off and you would be safe and..."
A wooden hand reached up and rubbed the side of Scarface's head. "You're right, dummy. It'd be safe. The kinda thing a graven coward like Warrick over there'd do." He looked across the table. "Alright, Two-Face. I'm in."
Two-Face formed a half smile. "You see, Warren, around here, we are committed to what we do. This isn't a lark; something we'll laugh about in our dotage while retiring on daddy's money. This is what we are. You wanted in? You're in." He pointed down at the queen of hearts. "Lady luck is your only way back out."
He re-holstered his gun and sat down. "Now then, O'Brian, I think I need another card."
The card slid to a stop in front of Two-Face followed by four others which joined the red queen in front of Warren.
Warren slid the cards toward the edge of the table, lifting them just enough to identify each card. He looked across at Wesker, who was sweating profusely. Then he turned to Two-Face. "Aren't you going to look at your card?"
Two-Face shook his head. "No. It is what it is. Looking at it isn't going to change our fates now."
Warren tapped the cards nervously. "I... um... I guess I am going to just keep these ones."
Two-Face cleared his throat.
"Whaddaya.... oh yeah." Scarface's mouth clicked shut.
Two-Face nodded. "I believe I called, so you had the last raise. You forced the action, you show the cards."
Five cards tumbled out of Scarface's hand and onto the table. King-high straight.
Warren pumped his fist. "Yes." He threw his cards onto the table. All hearts, queen-high. "Flush off the deal." He sighed and slumped forward.
"Ain't youse forgettin' sumthin?"
Warren's eyes darted to the single card laying face down in front of Two-Face. "He can't have four of a kind. He wouldn't draw... would he? Straight flush?"
Two-Face laughed. "Two pair. Aces over tens." He tossed the cards onto the table. "If you hadn't stepped in, I'd have lost. But now I have this one little card. The little wooden boy over there got one of my tens. You got the other. So that's out. But no aces showing. I didn't burn one. Two left in the deck. So, what do you think, Warren?" He pulled out the Derringer again. "With two bullets in the deck, I'm feeling pretty lucky."
Harvey reached past the card to his lucky silver dollar. "But I'm also feeling pretty flush. Good head, you can walk out of here alive. I won't even turn over the card."
Scarface slumped forward.
"Don't worry, Pinocchio. We'll finish the bet. After making sure Warren gets home before bedtime."
He tossed the coin in the air. Watching the slow, spinning arc. The sliver of light reflecting off its surface. At the last second he lurched his hand out to catch it. He stared down at his hand for a second. The coin landed a good inch from where it was supposed to. Wind.
Without looking at the coin, he turned, laughing, again to Warren. "Sorry, Foxy. Looks like it is your lucky day, after all. Do us both a favor and stay out of Gotham."
"Huh?"
Two-Face pocketed the coin and pulled out a second Derringer. "Ladies and Gentlemen. And Croc. We have a bat infestation."
The lights went out with a soft thud just before the soft hissing of the smoke grenades reached his ears. There were a few flashes of light and then silence.
Harvey Dent woke up in Arkham. He looked at the door of his cell. An ace of diamonds was taped to it.
A voice from behind him spoke. "You knew."
"Of course."
"Why'd you let him go?"
"Maybe the coin was came up good head."
"You didn't look at it."
Harvey paused. "Maybe I knew."
A grunt.
A smile half-spread across Two-Face's lips. "Eh, I don't kick puppies. The brat didn't know what he was getting into. He can consider it a free lesson. Next time he plays around, it'd better be his own chips he's gambling with."
"How very just of you, Harvey."
The smile vanished. "Fair. Fate dealt him those cards. He beat Scarface. This was about fate, not about justice."
The figure behind him was gone.
He rolled over in his bunk and placed his coin down on the edge of the sink.
Good face up.