Fic: Snark Never Goes Out Of Fashion (Veronica, Logan) R
Title: Snark Never Goes Out Of Fashion
Author: boyfriendincoma
Pairing/Character: Logan, Veronica
Word Count: 4,241
Rating: R
Summary: Every human action has one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason, anger and desire.
Spoilers/Warnings: AU for An Echolls Family Christmas, in which one particular ex-pumpkin carver never makes it to a certain Christmas party; tiny references to the rest of Season One
Most grateful thanks to: eolivet and amberlynne for their excellent beta work.
"Luck operates within the theory of probability. All that theory guarantees is that ultimately each player will have been dealt an approximately equal number of opportunities to win, an approximately equal number of good, bad and indifferent hands." - John Scarne
-----
Duncan was the first to leave - luck had favored only two people that night and watching their silent battle for the pot while Connor continued to tease Veronica about her miserable love life was only of limited entertainment value for the youngest Kane.
Around midnight, Connor left for one of his regularly scheduled bathroom visits and didn't come back. At this point the silent poker game between the two adversaries had escalated into a staring match of epic proportions.
Two hours and several shots of Aaron's most expensive scotch later, Weevil asked Veronica if she needed him anymore. She waved him off distractedly - she had two jacks at her hand and she was going to nail that sucker.
Luck didn't stay with Veronica. Although she won this hand, she lost her next one. She won a hand, she lost a hand. She tried to bluff, but Logan didn't buy her bluffs anymore than she bought his. Around four am, when she seriously considered cheating, Logan's hand suddenly consisted of one more ace than it should.
"You pulled that out of your sleeve."
"What? Wait a moment.... You're accusing me of cheating," he asked incredulously. "You must be really bad at this detective stuff, you know, Miss Longsleeves."
"At least I didn't pull out an ace out of my ass like certain other people just did," she bit back.
"And that so convenient pair of nines you had the last round? That was pure luck, right? Why don't you show me your sleeves before accusing me of cheating?"
"Why don't you show me yours? Oh, shoot," she snapped her fingers, "you've already emptied them."
"You know if you wanted to see me shirtless, you just could have asked." He leaned back on his chair. "I would've only asked of you to return the favor."
"In your dreams."
"You wish." He gave her a nasty smile. "I've got nothing to hide and I'm willing to prove it."
She crossed her arms across her chest and scowled.
"What," he scoffed. "Are you afraid of showing me the nothing you've got up your sleeves? Come on, don't be shy. What is it? A straight flush? A 'Go Neptune Football Team' tattoo? Or," he stage-whispered. "Naked pictures of Duncan?"
She started to pull off her shirt. "I hate you."
"The feeling is mutual," he said sarcastically while pulling off his shirt and before openly ogling the contents of her bra. "Talk about nothing - did these grow any more after you turned twelve?"
"Awww," she said with mock-hurt. "Have you already asked Santa for a bra for your manboobs?"
-----
"...play begins with each player being dealt two cards face down. These are the only cards each player will receive individually, and they will only (possibly) be revealed at the showdown, making Texas hold'em a closed poker game. The hand begins with a "pre-flop" betting round, beginning with the player to the left of the dealer and continuing clockwise. After the pre-flop betting round, the dealer deals a burn card, followed by three face-up community cards called the flop. The flop is followed by a second betting round. After the flop betting round ends, another card is burned, and a single community card called the turn (or fourth street) is dealt, followed by a third betting round. A final burn card is followed by a single community card called the river (or fifth street), followed by a fourth betting round and the showdown, if necessary...."
-----
It was five-thirty in the morning and a lucky streak had inspired Logan to gloat.
"...she comes and folds. And I could have danced all night."
She retrieved her phone out of her bag and looked at it pointedly: "The Village People just called." She smiled at him brightly. "They want their gay back."
-----
"Cards are war, in disguise of a sport." - Charles Lamb
-----
The sun went up and the winnings were still evenly divided. The Echolls pool house presented a strange picture - a boy and a girl, he shirtless, she only wearing a bra and a pair of jeans glowering at each other over a a few cards on a table strewn with plastic chips and empty bottles. (Aaron's scotch had disappeared with Weevil. Neither the boy nor the girl had noticed.)
"....is this the infamous Logan Echolls Saturday morning debauchery? Color me disappointed. I was expecting at least some exotic dancers." She paused meaningfully. "Male dancers."
"So how many blows against my masculinity do I have to take before you finally go back to your quaint little trailer park?" he asked while raising the bet. Keep your pokerface. Stare at her boobs if you have to.
She dealt another burn card. "It won't take much longer for me to finally rejoin humanity as I am going to win this game in the next thirty minutes or die trying. Which, by the way, is still infinitely preferable to your company."
"Don't bleed all over the carpet when you try dying or die trying...," he looked at the turn card and raised the stakes further. "Blood stains are so hard to get out."
"And I thought you would enjoy watching a girl going on her knees in front of you, even it's just Luisa trying to get the blood stains out."
"Are you proposing something here, Blondie? I mean, if you are," he leered suggestively at her bra. "Just add a baby oil massage and I might be interested."
"No, I think I just leave you to your usual choice." She smirked: "Left... or right hand?"
"Everything must pale compared to your usual choice - football or basketball team? Do you give these guys a bulk discount?"
"Call," she said showing her hand. "Only the chess club."
"Remind me not to join." He showed her his winning hand - a flush.
"Don't worry. You need an IQ larger than your dick size to get in."
"Well." He smiled beatifically while collecting the pot. "That explains the discount."
-----
"See, in my world - the world of high-stakes gin and poker - we play for cold, hard cash. It's all business, pure and simple. Anyone who thinks cardplaying is a 'game' - I'll show you a loser. Money... M-O-N-E-Y. That's how you measure success. One dollar at a time. One chip at a time. That's how you keep score." - Stuey Unger
-----
An hour later, the pool boy had come and gone and luck still wasn't with either player. The insults had dulled down to yawns and the cards started to look all alike.
She closed her eyes and laid her head on the table, when he started to deal a new round.
"Veronica. Wake up."
She jerked her head up. "What? I wasn't sleeping, I was just...."
"Snoring and drooling on the table for fun?"
"Hmm...."
"You know there is a bed over there in the other room, if you are too tired to continue playing...." He held up his hands when she looked at him like something that had crawled out of a sewer. "Alone and in peace. Keep your crabs to yourself."
"And leaving you alone with the money and the cards? I don't think so."
"What? Aren't you trusting your poker buddy?"
"As far as I can throw you. I'm not going anywhere without the money."
"Okay." He packed up the cards and threw them in the money box with the fifty one-hundred dollar bills. "Here are the cards and the money. Since you don't trust me and I don't trust you, we both share that damn bed with the damn money box."
She stared at him open-mouthed, then said: "I'm not sharing a bed with you."
"And I am not leaving you alone with five-thousand dollars. So we can either play until one of us passes out or we can sleep on that bed over there, with the money as our chaperone."
She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said more to herself than to him, walking towards the bedroom. She turned around and said: "Okay, the money box stays between us and you keep your pants on."
"I wouldn't dream of getting your STDs."
She dragged herself over to bed and collapsed on the coverlet. Logan carefully placed the box between their bodies and fell asleep watching the fall and rise of her chest.
-----
"Nobody is always a winner, and anybody who says he is, is either a liar or doesn't play poker." - Amarillo Slim
-----
Veronica woke up first and was greeted by the sound of Logan's soft snoring. To her relief they both still wore their pants. He's so going to pay for this. After I brush my teeth.
When she came out of the bathroom, with minty fresh breath, but still without her shirt, Aaron Echolls stood in the door of the pool house.
"Oh, I am sorry," he said. "I didn't know that Logan had company over." His eyes shortly roamed over Logan's half-naked form asleep on the bed and Veronica, who was holding up her arms protectively over her upper body and he nervously laughed. "I think I, uh, just leave the two of you alone." He backed out of the door and was gone.
Veronica sat down on the bed in utter mortification. "Rise and shine," she said to Logan's sleeping form.
"Hmm...," he said drowsily.
"Your father just came in," she informed him.
That little tidbit woke him up instantly; he sat up and stared at her. "He... what?"
"Your father just came in when I came out of the bathroom."
"Oh my God." He flopped back on the bed. "Don't tell me that... Oh my God." He held his arm over his eyes. "Please tell me this isn't happening."
"This isn't happening," she deadpanned.
"Thanks." He sat up again and ran his hands through his hair. "I feel so much better already." He flopped back on the bed. "Oh, God."
"I know. Your life is so over," she said sarcastically. "Your father thinks we... we are... we did.... It's...." She flopped back on the bed next to him staring blindly at the ceiling fan.
"Bad?"
"Yeah."
They both stayed silent for a few moments. Then he got off the bed and asked: "Are you hungry? You know, I'm sure Luisa can make us breakfast."
"It's four in the afternoon. Isn't that a bit too late for breakfast?"
"Not in this house," he said. "Grab your shirt and the money box, I'm hungry."
-----
"This was the first time he had seriously confronted what he was doing, and the force of that awareness came very abruptly- with a surging of his pulse and a frantic pounding in his head. He was about to gamble his life on that table, and the insanity of that risk filled him with a kind of awe." - Paul Auster, "The Music Of Chance"
-----
Luisa made a heavenly breakfast and Veronica ate like she hadn't eaten anything in months. Halfway between her wolfing down a large dish of scrambled eggs and a fourth pancake floating in syrup and butter, Logan began to stare in admiration.
"Wow. It must be really difficult living on food stamps."
Veronica immediately dropped her fork and got up from the table to walk out of the breakfast room.
"Hey, wait," he said. "That was a joke."
She didn't move an inch, didn't go back to the table, but didn't run off either. It was time for the big guns.
"I'm sorry, alright? I'm not finished eating and I'm not letting you leave with the money box, so there is no point in letting all of Luisa's work go to waste, Twiggy."
She silently sat back at the table and gingerly picked up her fork. They both continued to eat in silence for a few minutes, before he put his fork aside and studied her face.
"Since when are you so touchy," he asked. "If I was so touchy about the things you said to me, I would be joining the Village People right now."
She grinned at the mental image.
"Who do you think I'd be," he continued to ask. "The construction worker or the cop?"
"The cop. Definitely the cop," she said barely containing her mirth.
"Awww, either you love me or you really love me and your daddy issues are showing."
The grin vanished from her face and she put down her fork.
He got the money box and stood up. "Come on," he said. "You still got a game to lose."
-----
"Poker is a microcosm of all we admire and disdain about capitalism and democracy. It can be rough-hewn or polished, warm or cold, charitable and caring or hard and impersonal. It is fickle and elusive, but ultimately it is fair, and right, and just." - Lou Krieger
-----
"What are you doing," asked Veronica when Logan started to pull off his shirt once they entered the pool house again.
"Just avoiding a repeat of the 'your sleeves are cheating' spiel," he answered, keeping his voice neutral.
"You really don't have to do that. Just get something with short sleeves, will you?"
"And not give you the opportunity to show off your Goodwill bra?" He gave her smile that only a shark would describe as charming. "Wouldn't think of it."
"How about..." Veronica pretended to think for a second. "No?"
"How about..." He imitated her tone. "Uhm, you keeping your clothes on and me... let me think, hmm...." Another mocking smile. "Keeping the pot?"
"You're not getting the pot."
"Well." He waved his hands theatrically. " Off with the shirt then."
She silently fumed and pulled the shirt over her head.
-----
"Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died." - Steven Wright
-----
He made her fold holding a hand of nothing.
"Have I told you already that you're crap at this?"
She laughed at him. "Ah, that's why you haven't won yet."
-----
"The poker player learns that sometimes both science and common sense are wrong; that the bumblebee can fly; that, perhaps, one should never trust an expert; that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of by those with an academic bent." - David Mamet
-----
"There are two aces on the table and you are raising this to fifty?" She looked like she was about to throw her cards in his face out of frustration of playing for hours and still not winning. "How long do you want to play this game?"
"So you wanna play for the high stakes now," he asked.
"Raise five-hundred and you'll see."
"Hm," he shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Figures."
"How so?"
"Well, I don't want to give you a complex...," she said with the confidence of someone with a winning streak. "But your stack looks kind of small."
"She comes. She sees. She scores." He gave her a calculating look. "You know, you are going to lose this round, right?"
"I doubt that."
"I think I could be convinced to do an 'all-in'.... with the right incentive...," his voice trailed off.
"And that would be...?"
"Your Goodwill bra."
"Forget it. No. Way."
"Fifty it is then."
She gave a short look at Logan's stack, if he went all in and she won the round, then in thirty seconds she would leave this room with five-thousand dollars. He couldn't possibly win this round, could he? "Five-hundred and the bra against your all-in."
Logan dealt the last card, a five of spades and smiled at her.
"Call," she said.
"You call... gonna be all over, baby," he crooned.
"Three, " she said smugly, showing her hand, which held another ace, giving her a three of a kind.
He smiled and revealed his hand - which contained the fourth ace and a five of hearts. "I told you, you would lose." His grin grew wider and, if possible, even more self-satisfied. "Your bra."
She gaped at him. "You cannot be serious."
"Actually." He made a seemingly thoughtful pause. "I am. You lost, you strip."
"I'm... I'm not.... This is ridiculous." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not giving you my bra."
"Look. If you can't pay your bets, then you better start heading towards the rectangle with the knob." He grabbed the money box. "Don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out."
Veronica narrowed her eyes and sent Logan the stare of instant spontaneous combustion. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work. She stood up from the table and turned her back towards Logan, then - to his surprise - started to open the hooks of her bra. She removed the contentious item and threw it in his general direction. Then she turned around, her left arm covering her breasts, and sat back down at the table.
"I hate to tell you this..." He threw the cards in her general direction and smiled brightly. "... but it's your turn to deal."
-----
"The next best thing to playing and winning is playing and losing. The main thing is to play." - Nick "the Greek" Dandalos
-----
"Are you cold?"
For a second she was confused by his concerned question, before she realized what he was referring to and covered her chest again with her left arm. And glared. A lot.
"You know I'm going to win it," she nodded at the piece of fabric lying next to Logan's stack of chips, "back this round."
He laughed at her glowering, lithe form. "And what could you bet that would make me bet my source of endless amusement?"
She shot him another look of spontaneous combustion - the twentieth in the last five minutes - and replied: "All-in, just like you did."
He pretended to think about for a second, then winked at her. "I don't think so."
"What do you want, Logan," she said exasperatedly. "Blood sacrifices? My first-born?"
"No," he said, laughter still in his eyes. "Your pants."
She shot him another dark look, but didn't hesitate. "Okay. Call."
"No negotiations, no begging," he teased. "And I would have so enjoyed seeing you on your knees."
She showed her hand and gave him a fake smile. "Unless you have something that beats two pairs, that won't happen any time soon."
He didn't. He held the brassiere up on on strap, looked at it like he was committing it to his long-term memory and said melodramatically: "Of all my losses this one might just hurt the most," before throwing it over to her.
-----
"It’s not enough to succeed. Others must fail." - Gore Vidal
-----
"So is there anything special," he gave her a short appraising look and waggled his eyebrows, "you wanna throw in the pot?"
She rolled her eyes at his antics. "Your subtle hints every other minute won't change my mind, Logan. I'm not playing another round of strip poker with you." She dealt the second burn card. "Buy your own bras."
"You know, I never thought you would play a first round of strip poker with me." He settled deeper into his chair and winked at her. "How wrong I was."
"If you even breathe a word about this to someone...." Her mouth became a line of angry determination. "I will ruin your life."
"My father already thinks you are my girlfriend," he reminded her. "Could you possibly make my life any worse?"
"I could try. What do you think about being...getting expelled ? Or a juvenile record?" She made a face like she just thought up a whole new dimension of painful revenge. "Oh, I know." She gave him an insincere smile, masking her laughter. "I could be pregnant with your love child."
He gave her back an equally stagey smile. "An immaculate conception? How old-fashioned of you."
"I'm quite an old-fashioned gal," she said with her best Southern Belle voice. "What d' ya think of Philomenia? Or Ezekiel for a lad? "
His smile grew bigger and more sincere. "I was always partial to Elvis myself, you know."
"I wanna be a June bride," she said dreamily, still channeling Scarlett O'Hara. "Me in white, you... there, me pa and his shotgun, it's gonna be perfect!"
"Nothing says romance like a father with a shotgun...."
She continued unabashed: "Mrs. Logan Echolls. All my life's ambitions will finally come true on that magical day. Do you think your friend Dick wants be one of the bridesmaids?"
"Sure," he answered, partaking in her pipe dream. "Just tell him that chicks dig guys in ugly, pink dresses and he's all yours."
As the image of Dick Casablancas wearing a pink bridesmaid dress with a big bow across his butt was standing between them, they both burst out laughing.
-----
"Never do card tricks for the group you play poker with." - Anonymous
-----
The lights had long gone out in the main house, but in the pool house the lights and underwear stayed on, despite Logan's quite earnest attempts to remedy the latter.
After being duped by Veronica to fold a straight (due to being distracted by a rather delightful tale about Casey Gant's trip into the world of unorganized religion), he decided it was time to offer Veronica some of the old Echolls hospitality and the content of his parents' fridge.
"You know...." he said. "I could use something to eat. Wanna raid the kitchen?"
She got up and moved towards the door, when his voice stopped her: "No shoes." He shot her an odd look. "Some people need their beauty sleep and we better not wake them up."
"No shirt? No shoes? Is this Fight Club or something?"
"Do you see me talking to myself?"
She sat back at the table and took off her shoes.
-----
"Poker is a game of people... It's not the hand I hold, it's the people that I play with." - Amarillo Slim
-----
"So what's your poison? Whipped cream?" He held up the item in question. "Pickles and ice-cream for our little Philomenia? Or is it Elvis?"
She perked up: "Ice-cream? Is it strawberry by any chance?"
"'Fraid it's..." he read the label like it contained the secret to the Universe. "plain vanilla."
"Oh, gimme, gimme, gimme."
He wordlessly handed the ice-cream over.
"And get a second spoon. We're going to kill this sucker and leave no traces." She smiled. "The perfect crime."
-----
"Poker is the game closest to the western conception of life, where life and thought are recognized as intimately combined, where free will prevails over philosophies of fate or of chance, where men are considered moral agents and where - at least in the short run - the important thing is not what happens but what people think happens." - John Luckacs, "Poker and the American Character"
-----
On their way back to the poolhouse, Veronica relayed the details of the Great Geek Con of 2004: "...so he gives me the phone number and then asks me if he still gets his SAG points." She paused as he laughed and came to a halt by the pool. "So I call the number and...."
"Veronica," he interrupted her.
She looked up to him as he smiled at her, like a cat that was about to get the cream. "Yeah...," she managed to get out, before his smile widened into a mischievous grin and he grabbed her shoulders to push her into the pool. In a reflex she grabbed his arm and he went into the pool alongside with her.
"You... fucking ass," she screamed once she got her head above the water. "You...." She splashed him with all her might.
He just laughed. "I figure you could use a bath. You started to reek."
She gaped at him for a second, then laughed with him: "You're so going down for this." She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down under the surface of the water. He grabbed her shoulders from below and pulled her with him. They stayed under water for a second before coming up again, his arms still around her, her hands still on his shoulders. He looked intensively into her eyes, unsure of what to do next. She laughed at him and pushed him below the surface again. He went willingly, his arms embracing her tightly.
When they came up gasping for air, the room between their two bodies had become non-existent. He closed in the distance between their lips and she kissed him right back, tasting chlorine and a hint of vanilla, still grasping his shoulders for support.
Somehow she ended up pressed against one of the pool's walls, kissing, gasping for air as his mouth trailed the column of her neck as hands began to slide from her sides higher and higher.... Somewhere a bird chirped, a twig broke, a car alarm went off.... Something happened and suddenly she found herself climbing out of the pool.
He stayed in the pool watching her standing beside it, ready to bolt, shivering, his gaze never leaving hers. She broke the eye contact, looked down at herself, her bare feet, towards to the pool house and then, finally, her gaze went back to him. She smiled.
"Come on," she said. "You still got a game to lose."
-----
"Patience, and shuffle the cards." - Miguel de Cervantes, "Don Quixote"
Sources:
...play begins with each player... - abridged version of wikipedia.org's Texas Hold 'Em article
I could have danced all night - song from the musical My Fair Lady
I don't want to give you a complex... but your stack looks small. - originally said by Marcel Luske at the 2004 World Series of Poker
You call...gonna be all over, baby. - originally said by Scotty Nguyen at the 1998 World Series of Poker, while he held the best possible hand
Every human action has one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason, anger and desire. - Aristotle, "Rhetoric"
Author: boyfriendincoma
Pairing/Character: Logan, Veronica
Word Count: 4,241
Rating: R
Summary: Every human action has one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason, anger and desire.
Spoilers/Warnings: AU for An Echolls Family Christmas, in which one particular ex-pumpkin carver never makes it to a certain Christmas party; tiny references to the rest of Season One
Most grateful thanks to: eolivet and amberlynne for their excellent beta work.
"Luck operates within the theory of probability. All that theory guarantees is that ultimately each player will have been dealt an approximately equal number of opportunities to win, an approximately equal number of good, bad and indifferent hands." - John Scarne
-----
Duncan was the first to leave - luck had favored only two people that night and watching their silent battle for the pot while Connor continued to tease Veronica about her miserable love life was only of limited entertainment value for the youngest Kane.
Around midnight, Connor left for one of his regularly scheduled bathroom visits and didn't come back. At this point the silent poker game between the two adversaries had escalated into a staring match of epic proportions.
Two hours and several shots of Aaron's most expensive scotch later, Weevil asked Veronica if she needed him anymore. She waved him off distractedly - she had two jacks at her hand and she was going to nail that sucker.
Luck didn't stay with Veronica. Although she won this hand, she lost her next one. She won a hand, she lost a hand. She tried to bluff, but Logan didn't buy her bluffs anymore than she bought his. Around four am, when she seriously considered cheating, Logan's hand suddenly consisted of one more ace than it should.
"You pulled that out of your sleeve."
"What? Wait a moment.... You're accusing me of cheating," he asked incredulously. "You must be really bad at this detective stuff, you know, Miss Longsleeves."
"At least I didn't pull out an ace out of my ass like certain other people just did," she bit back.
"And that so convenient pair of nines you had the last round? That was pure luck, right? Why don't you show me your sleeves before accusing me of cheating?"
"Why don't you show me yours? Oh, shoot," she snapped her fingers, "you've already emptied them."
"You know if you wanted to see me shirtless, you just could have asked." He leaned back on his chair. "I would've only asked of you to return the favor."
"In your dreams."
"You wish." He gave her a nasty smile. "I've got nothing to hide and I'm willing to prove it."
She crossed her arms across her chest and scowled.
"What," he scoffed. "Are you afraid of showing me the nothing you've got up your sleeves? Come on, don't be shy. What is it? A straight flush? A 'Go Neptune Football Team' tattoo? Or," he stage-whispered. "Naked pictures of Duncan?"
She started to pull off her shirt. "I hate you."
"The feeling is mutual," he said sarcastically while pulling off his shirt and before openly ogling the contents of her bra. "Talk about nothing - did these grow any more after you turned twelve?"
"Awww," she said with mock-hurt. "Have you already asked Santa for a bra for your manboobs?"
-----
"...play begins with each player being dealt two cards face down. These are the only cards each player will receive individually, and they will only (possibly) be revealed at the showdown, making Texas hold'em a closed poker game. The hand begins with a "pre-flop" betting round, beginning with the player to the left of the dealer and continuing clockwise. After the pre-flop betting round, the dealer deals a burn card, followed by three face-up community cards called the flop. The flop is followed by a second betting round. After the flop betting round ends, another card is burned, and a single community card called the turn (or fourth street) is dealt, followed by a third betting round. A final burn card is followed by a single community card called the river (or fifth street), followed by a fourth betting round and the showdown, if necessary...."
-----
It was five-thirty in the morning and a lucky streak had inspired Logan to gloat.
"...she comes and folds. And I could have danced all night."
She retrieved her phone out of her bag and looked at it pointedly: "The Village People just called." She smiled at him brightly. "They want their gay back."
-----
"Cards are war, in disguise of a sport." - Charles Lamb
-----
The sun went up and the winnings were still evenly divided. The Echolls pool house presented a strange picture - a boy and a girl, he shirtless, she only wearing a bra and a pair of jeans glowering at each other over a a few cards on a table strewn with plastic chips and empty bottles. (Aaron's scotch had disappeared with Weevil. Neither the boy nor the girl had noticed.)
"....is this the infamous Logan Echolls Saturday morning debauchery? Color me disappointed. I was expecting at least some exotic dancers." She paused meaningfully. "Male dancers."
"So how many blows against my masculinity do I have to take before you finally go back to your quaint little trailer park?" he asked while raising the bet. Keep your pokerface. Stare at her boobs if you have to.
She dealt another burn card. "It won't take much longer for me to finally rejoin humanity as I am going to win this game in the next thirty minutes or die trying. Which, by the way, is still infinitely preferable to your company."
"Don't bleed all over the carpet when you try dying or die trying...," he looked at the turn card and raised the stakes further. "Blood stains are so hard to get out."
"And I thought you would enjoy watching a girl going on her knees in front of you, even it's just Luisa trying to get the blood stains out."
"Are you proposing something here, Blondie? I mean, if you are," he leered suggestively at her bra. "Just add a baby oil massage and I might be interested."
"No, I think I just leave you to your usual choice." She smirked: "Left... or right hand?"
"Everything must pale compared to your usual choice - football or basketball team? Do you give these guys a bulk discount?"
"Call," she said showing her hand. "Only the chess club."
"Remind me not to join." He showed her his winning hand - a flush.
"Don't worry. You need an IQ larger than your dick size to get in."
"Well." He smiled beatifically while collecting the pot. "That explains the discount."
-----
"See, in my world - the world of high-stakes gin and poker - we play for cold, hard cash. It's all business, pure and simple. Anyone who thinks cardplaying is a 'game' - I'll show you a loser. Money... M-O-N-E-Y. That's how you measure success. One dollar at a time. One chip at a time. That's how you keep score." - Stuey Unger
-----
An hour later, the pool boy had come and gone and luck still wasn't with either player. The insults had dulled down to yawns and the cards started to look all alike.
She closed her eyes and laid her head on the table, when he started to deal a new round.
"Veronica. Wake up."
She jerked her head up. "What? I wasn't sleeping, I was just...."
"Snoring and drooling on the table for fun?"
"Hmm...."
"You know there is a bed over there in the other room, if you are too tired to continue playing...." He held up his hands when she looked at him like something that had crawled out of a sewer. "Alone and in peace. Keep your crabs to yourself."
"And leaving you alone with the money and the cards? I don't think so."
"What? Aren't you trusting your poker buddy?"
"As far as I can throw you. I'm not going anywhere without the money."
"Okay." He packed up the cards and threw them in the money box with the fifty one-hundred dollar bills. "Here are the cards and the money. Since you don't trust me and I don't trust you, we both share that damn bed with the damn money box."
She stared at him open-mouthed, then said: "I'm not sharing a bed with you."
"And I am not leaving you alone with five-thousand dollars. So we can either play until one of us passes out or we can sleep on that bed over there, with the money as our chaperone."
She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said more to herself than to him, walking towards the bedroom. She turned around and said: "Okay, the money box stays between us and you keep your pants on."
"I wouldn't dream of getting your STDs."
She dragged herself over to bed and collapsed on the coverlet. Logan carefully placed the box between their bodies and fell asleep watching the fall and rise of her chest.
-----
"Nobody is always a winner, and anybody who says he is, is either a liar or doesn't play poker." - Amarillo Slim
-----
Veronica woke up first and was greeted by the sound of Logan's soft snoring. To her relief they both still wore their pants. He's so going to pay for this. After I brush my teeth.
When she came out of the bathroom, with minty fresh breath, but still without her shirt, Aaron Echolls stood in the door of the pool house.
"Oh, I am sorry," he said. "I didn't know that Logan had company over." His eyes shortly roamed over Logan's half-naked form asleep on the bed and Veronica, who was holding up her arms protectively over her upper body and he nervously laughed. "I think I, uh, just leave the two of you alone." He backed out of the door and was gone.
Veronica sat down on the bed in utter mortification. "Rise and shine," she said to Logan's sleeping form.
"Hmm...," he said drowsily.
"Your father just came in," she informed him.
That little tidbit woke him up instantly; he sat up and stared at her. "He... what?"
"Your father just came in when I came out of the bathroom."
"Oh my God." He flopped back on the bed. "Don't tell me that... Oh my God." He held his arm over his eyes. "Please tell me this isn't happening."
"This isn't happening," she deadpanned.
"Thanks." He sat up again and ran his hands through his hair. "I feel so much better already." He flopped back on the bed. "Oh, God."
"I know. Your life is so over," she said sarcastically. "Your father thinks we... we are... we did.... It's...." She flopped back on the bed next to him staring blindly at the ceiling fan.
"Bad?"
"Yeah."
They both stayed silent for a few moments. Then he got off the bed and asked: "Are you hungry? You know, I'm sure Luisa can make us breakfast."
"It's four in the afternoon. Isn't that a bit too late for breakfast?"
"Not in this house," he said. "Grab your shirt and the money box, I'm hungry."
-----
"This was the first time he had seriously confronted what he was doing, and the force of that awareness came very abruptly- with a surging of his pulse and a frantic pounding in his head. He was about to gamble his life on that table, and the insanity of that risk filled him with a kind of awe." - Paul Auster, "The Music Of Chance"
-----
Luisa made a heavenly breakfast and Veronica ate like she hadn't eaten anything in months. Halfway between her wolfing down a large dish of scrambled eggs and a fourth pancake floating in syrup and butter, Logan began to stare in admiration.
"Wow. It must be really difficult living on food stamps."
Veronica immediately dropped her fork and got up from the table to walk out of the breakfast room.
"Hey, wait," he said. "That was a joke."
She didn't move an inch, didn't go back to the table, but didn't run off either. It was time for the big guns.
"I'm sorry, alright? I'm not finished eating and I'm not letting you leave with the money box, so there is no point in letting all of Luisa's work go to waste, Twiggy."
She silently sat back at the table and gingerly picked up her fork. They both continued to eat in silence for a few minutes, before he put his fork aside and studied her face.
"Since when are you so touchy," he asked. "If I was so touchy about the things you said to me, I would be joining the Village People right now."
She grinned at the mental image.
"Who do you think I'd be," he continued to ask. "The construction worker or the cop?"
"The cop. Definitely the cop," she said barely containing her mirth.
"Awww, either you love me or you really love me and your daddy issues are showing."
The grin vanished from her face and she put down her fork.
He got the money box and stood up. "Come on," he said. "You still got a game to lose."
-----
"Poker is a microcosm of all we admire and disdain about capitalism and democracy. It can be rough-hewn or polished, warm or cold, charitable and caring or hard and impersonal. It is fickle and elusive, but ultimately it is fair, and right, and just." - Lou Krieger
-----
"What are you doing," asked Veronica when Logan started to pull off his shirt once they entered the pool house again.
"Just avoiding a repeat of the 'your sleeves are cheating' spiel," he answered, keeping his voice neutral.
"You really don't have to do that. Just get something with short sleeves, will you?"
"And not give you the opportunity to show off your Goodwill bra?" He gave her smile that only a shark would describe as charming. "Wouldn't think of it."
"How about..." Veronica pretended to think for a second. "No?"
"How about..." He imitated her tone. "Uhm, you keeping your clothes on and me... let me think, hmm...." Another mocking smile. "Keeping the pot?"
"You're not getting the pot."
"Well." He waved his hands theatrically. " Off with the shirt then."
She silently fumed and pulled the shirt over her head.
-----
"Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died." - Steven Wright
-----
He made her fold holding a hand of nothing.
"Have I told you already that you're crap at this?"
She laughed at him. "Ah, that's why you haven't won yet."
-----
"The poker player learns that sometimes both science and common sense are wrong; that the bumblebee can fly; that, perhaps, one should never trust an expert; that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of by those with an academic bent." - David Mamet
-----
"There are two aces on the table and you are raising this to fifty?" She looked like she was about to throw her cards in his face out of frustration of playing for hours and still not winning. "How long do you want to play this game?"
"So you wanna play for the high stakes now," he asked.
"Raise five-hundred and you'll see."
"Hm," he shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Figures."
"How so?"
"Well, I don't want to give you a complex...," she said with the confidence of someone with a winning streak. "But your stack looks kind of small."
"She comes. She sees. She scores." He gave her a calculating look. "You know, you are going to lose this round, right?"
"I doubt that."
"I think I could be convinced to do an 'all-in'.... with the right incentive...," his voice trailed off.
"And that would be...?"
"Your Goodwill bra."
"Forget it. No. Way."
"Fifty it is then."
She gave a short look at Logan's stack, if he went all in and she won the round, then in thirty seconds she would leave this room with five-thousand dollars. He couldn't possibly win this round, could he? "Five-hundred and the bra against your all-in."
Logan dealt the last card, a five of spades and smiled at her.
"Call," she said.
"You call... gonna be all over, baby," he crooned.
"Three, " she said smugly, showing her hand, which held another ace, giving her a three of a kind.
He smiled and revealed his hand - which contained the fourth ace and a five of hearts. "I told you, you would lose." His grin grew wider and, if possible, even more self-satisfied. "Your bra."
She gaped at him. "You cannot be serious."
"Actually." He made a seemingly thoughtful pause. "I am. You lost, you strip."
"I'm... I'm not.... This is ridiculous." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not giving you my bra."
"Look. If you can't pay your bets, then you better start heading towards the rectangle with the knob." He grabbed the money box. "Don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out."
Veronica narrowed her eyes and sent Logan the stare of instant spontaneous combustion. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work. She stood up from the table and turned her back towards Logan, then - to his surprise - started to open the hooks of her bra. She removed the contentious item and threw it in his general direction. Then she turned around, her left arm covering her breasts, and sat back down at the table.
"I hate to tell you this..." He threw the cards in her general direction and smiled brightly. "... but it's your turn to deal."
-----
"The next best thing to playing and winning is playing and losing. The main thing is to play." - Nick "the Greek" Dandalos
-----
"Are you cold?"
For a second she was confused by his concerned question, before she realized what he was referring to and covered her chest again with her left arm. And glared. A lot.
"You know I'm going to win it," she nodded at the piece of fabric lying next to Logan's stack of chips, "back this round."
He laughed at her glowering, lithe form. "And what could you bet that would make me bet my source of endless amusement?"
She shot him another look of spontaneous combustion - the twentieth in the last five minutes - and replied: "All-in, just like you did."
He pretended to think about for a second, then winked at her. "I don't think so."
"What do you want, Logan," she said exasperatedly. "Blood sacrifices? My first-born?"
"No," he said, laughter still in his eyes. "Your pants."
She shot him another dark look, but didn't hesitate. "Okay. Call."
"No negotiations, no begging," he teased. "And I would have so enjoyed seeing you on your knees."
She showed her hand and gave him a fake smile. "Unless you have something that beats two pairs, that won't happen any time soon."
He didn't. He held the brassiere up on on strap, looked at it like he was committing it to his long-term memory and said melodramatically: "Of all my losses this one might just hurt the most," before throwing it over to her.
-----
"It’s not enough to succeed. Others must fail." - Gore Vidal
-----
"So is there anything special," he gave her a short appraising look and waggled his eyebrows, "you wanna throw in the pot?"
She rolled her eyes at his antics. "Your subtle hints every other minute won't change my mind, Logan. I'm not playing another round of strip poker with you." She dealt the second burn card. "Buy your own bras."
"You know, I never thought you would play a first round of strip poker with me." He settled deeper into his chair and winked at her. "How wrong I was."
"If you even breathe a word about this to someone...." Her mouth became a line of angry determination. "I will ruin your life."
"My father already thinks you are my girlfriend," he reminded her. "Could you possibly make my life any worse?"
"I could try. What do you think about being...getting expelled ? Or a juvenile record?" She made a face like she just thought up a whole new dimension of painful revenge. "Oh, I know." She gave him an insincere smile, masking her laughter. "I could be pregnant with your love child."
He gave her back an equally stagey smile. "An immaculate conception? How old-fashioned of you."
"I'm quite an old-fashioned gal," she said with her best Southern Belle voice. "What d' ya think of Philomenia? Or Ezekiel for a lad? "
His smile grew bigger and more sincere. "I was always partial to Elvis myself, you know."
"I wanna be a June bride," she said dreamily, still channeling Scarlett O'Hara. "Me in white, you... there, me pa and his shotgun, it's gonna be perfect!"
"Nothing says romance like a father with a shotgun...."
She continued unabashed: "Mrs. Logan Echolls. All my life's ambitions will finally come true on that magical day. Do you think your friend Dick wants be one of the bridesmaids?"
"Sure," he answered, partaking in her pipe dream. "Just tell him that chicks dig guys in ugly, pink dresses and he's all yours."
As the image of Dick Casablancas wearing a pink bridesmaid dress with a big bow across his butt was standing between them, they both burst out laughing.
-----
"Never do card tricks for the group you play poker with." - Anonymous
-----
The lights had long gone out in the main house, but in the pool house the lights and underwear stayed on, despite Logan's quite earnest attempts to remedy the latter.
After being duped by Veronica to fold a straight (due to being distracted by a rather delightful tale about Casey Gant's trip into the world of unorganized religion), he decided it was time to offer Veronica some of the old Echolls hospitality and the content of his parents' fridge.
"You know...." he said. "I could use something to eat. Wanna raid the kitchen?"
She got up and moved towards the door, when his voice stopped her: "No shoes." He shot her an odd look. "Some people need their beauty sleep and we better not wake them up."
"No shirt? No shoes? Is this Fight Club or something?"
"Do you see me talking to myself?"
She sat back at the table and took off her shoes.
-----
"Poker is a game of people... It's not the hand I hold, it's the people that I play with." - Amarillo Slim
-----
"So what's your poison? Whipped cream?" He held up the item in question. "Pickles and ice-cream for our little Philomenia? Or is it Elvis?"
She perked up: "Ice-cream? Is it strawberry by any chance?"
"'Fraid it's..." he read the label like it contained the secret to the Universe. "plain vanilla."
"Oh, gimme, gimme, gimme."
He wordlessly handed the ice-cream over.
"And get a second spoon. We're going to kill this sucker and leave no traces." She smiled. "The perfect crime."
-----
"Poker is the game closest to the western conception of life, where life and thought are recognized as intimately combined, where free will prevails over philosophies of fate or of chance, where men are considered moral agents and where - at least in the short run - the important thing is not what happens but what people think happens." - John Luckacs, "Poker and the American Character"
-----
On their way back to the poolhouse, Veronica relayed the details of the Great Geek Con of 2004: "...so he gives me the phone number and then asks me if he still gets his SAG points." She paused as he laughed and came to a halt by the pool. "So I call the number and...."
"Veronica," he interrupted her.
She looked up to him as he smiled at her, like a cat that was about to get the cream. "Yeah...," she managed to get out, before his smile widened into a mischievous grin and he grabbed her shoulders to push her into the pool. In a reflex she grabbed his arm and he went into the pool alongside with her.
"You... fucking ass," she screamed once she got her head above the water. "You...." She splashed him with all her might.
He just laughed. "I figure you could use a bath. You started to reek."
She gaped at him for a second, then laughed with him: "You're so going down for this." She grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down under the surface of the water. He grabbed her shoulders from below and pulled her with him. They stayed under water for a second before coming up again, his arms still around her, her hands still on his shoulders. He looked intensively into her eyes, unsure of what to do next. She laughed at him and pushed him below the surface again. He went willingly, his arms embracing her tightly.
When they came up gasping for air, the room between their two bodies had become non-existent. He closed in the distance between their lips and she kissed him right back, tasting chlorine and a hint of vanilla, still grasping his shoulders for support.
Somehow she ended up pressed against one of the pool's walls, kissing, gasping for air as his mouth trailed the column of her neck as hands began to slide from her sides higher and higher.... Somewhere a bird chirped, a twig broke, a car alarm went off.... Something happened and suddenly she found herself climbing out of the pool.
He stayed in the pool watching her standing beside it, ready to bolt, shivering, his gaze never leaving hers. She broke the eye contact, looked down at herself, her bare feet, towards to the pool house and then, finally, her gaze went back to him. She smiled.
"Come on," she said. "You still got a game to lose."
-----
"Patience, and shuffle the cards." - Miguel de Cervantes, "Don Quixote"
Sources:
...play begins with each player... - abridged version of wikipedia.org's Texas Hold 'Em article
I could have danced all night - song from the musical My Fair Lady
I don't want to give you a complex... but your stack looks small. - originally said by Marcel Luske at the 2004 World Series of Poker
You call...gonna be all over, baby. - originally said by Scotty Nguyen at the 1998 World Series of Poker, while he held the best possible hand
Every human action has one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason, anger and desire. - Aristotle, "Rhetoric"