Fic: Blind Man's Bluff | (Spock/Uhura) | Drabble
My muse needs recharging, so I am attempting drabbles. Not so sure about the results, but practice makes perfect. Well. Maybe not in my case, but one can dream.
Title: Blind Man's Bluff
Author: tehlanes
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Wordcount: 164
Summary: Spock learns a hard lesson about Indian Poker. Written for spockuhura_100's Second Challenge; inspired by "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga.
"No, like this," she says as the laugh bubbles in her throat, tapping her index finger ever so slightly on her own tongue. He watches--fascinated by this gesture--as his own palm holds back his precisely trimmed hair. She dabs her finger against his brow.
The thick, foreign paper slaps and sticks to his forehead.
She struggles not to grin, eyes flickering to his card. Her expression drops, slight but detectable. Barely.
It takes all he has not to quirk an eyebrow.
He holds her gaze mercilessly--he is not yet convinced--but a glance at the Four-of-Hearts stuck to her own brow reassures him. Quickly calculating the odds, he discovers the likelihood of success is in his favour. He already enjoys this game.
He slides the credits between them on the table, his three raising her one.
The Two-of-Clubs glares at her--ferocious as a kitten--from upon her lover's crown.
It takes all she has to keep the smirk out of her eyes.
Title: Blind Man's Bluff
Author: tehlanes
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Wordcount: 164
Summary: Spock learns a hard lesson about Indian Poker. Written for spockuhura_100's Second Challenge; inspired by "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga.
"No, like this," she says as the laugh bubbles in her throat, tapping her index finger ever so slightly on her own tongue. He watches--fascinated by this gesture--as his own palm holds back his precisely trimmed hair. She dabs her finger against his brow.
The thick, foreign paper slaps and sticks to his forehead.
She struggles not to grin, eyes flickering to his card. Her expression drops, slight but detectable. Barely.
It takes all he has not to quirk an eyebrow.
He holds her gaze mercilessly--he is not yet convinced--but a glance at the Four-of-Hearts stuck to her own brow reassures him. Quickly calculating the odds, he discovers the likelihood of success is in his favour. He already enjoys this game.
He slides the credits between them on the table, his three raising her one.
The Two-of-Clubs glares at her--ferocious as a kitten--from upon her lover's crown.
It takes all she has to keep the smirk out of her eyes.