Disclaimer: Fic is for fun, not for profit
A/N: Tripped over this on my old laptop a couple weeks ago. I barely remembered writing it, so I had to dig through the Refuge boards to make sure it was mine. As it turns out, it is and it was written for the prompt "David and Race and poker."
"You gotta work on your poker face, kid. Pros read faces, you know," Racetrack taunted, biting on his cigar. "I got you read like a book, Jacobs."
David shot him a glare then kicked his legs out straight beneath the table and leaned back in his chair, staring at his handful of cards in consternation.
"C'mon, Kelly. Whaddya bid?" Race was grinning, assured a win was close.
Jack tossed his hand to the table. "Too rich for my blood," he muttered. "I ain't stupid enough to keep going when you got that kind of smirk on your mug. Couldn't sell papes fast enough to make up that debt. You'd put me out on the street for a week."
Laughs rounded the room as tension notched higher when Jack scooted back from the table, leaving only David and Race.
"All right, Jacobs. It's you and me," Race gestured between them, cigar between his fingers.
David nodded and sat forward, intent. Jack moved behind David to peek at his hand and immediately winced. Race's chest swelled with triumph. Jack patted David's back and shouldered his way into the crowd next to Blink.
"Okay," David said, deeply serious. "Okay, remind me again—Kings are highest?"
Race snorted. Teaching this mama's boy to play poker was the best decision he'd made in weeks. "No, that's aces. Aces high."
"Aces, okay," David repeated, looking slightly discouraged. "All right, so . . ." He stared at the stack of pennies on the table in front of him. "Well, I guess I'll just bet it all."
"What?" Jack exclaimed as the rest of the room rumbled with surprise.
David just shrugged. "There's not much here to lose," he said, pushing his pennies in.
Race could feel the greedy glint in his own eye as he stared at the pot. That would make a mighty fine day—no, week—at the track.
"Moment of truth, Jacobs. Let's see whatcha got." Race turned over his own hand: a full house of queens and aces. "Meet the pretty ladies who have been keeping me company."
Some boys whistled. Others made ominous sounds. David just nodded somberly.
"That's a lot of high cards. My cards aren't that high." He laid down a seven of hearts and Race felt a laughed bubble up and started reaching to scrape in the pot. But then David seemed to think the better of being systematic and just laid down the rest of his hands atop the seven.
Race choked on his laugh, coughing out cigar smoke, as David revealed a complete pretty fan of red hearts.
Boys rushed the table to see. "Straight flush!" "Knave high!" "All right, David!" "You beat him!"
Race gaped, jaw opening and closing in shock. He looked up to David, whose small, knowing smiling said it all as he was clapped on the shoulders and hollers of congratulations continued.
"You . . . You dirty, lying sonofa—" Race snarled. Jack stepped in behind David once more. "And you! You were in on it!"
Jack ruffled David's curls affectionately; David blinked at him, half annoyed. "Wasn't no big conspiracy, Race."
Race hopped up. At this point he was less sore over losing than being suckered. "You didn't even have a king! Or an ace! How did you—? You said you never played poker!"
David's smile broke into a grin but his shrug was humble. "You read faces. I read a lot of books."
– end –
