So I had written a few chapters for this story, but I decided to edit, rewrite, and repost. Some of you may recognize a few of these chapters, but I had decided to sorta take it in a different direction and see how this goes.
-I didn't give much detail into Eames and the OC's past relationship for this first chapter, but don't worry about any confusion, bits will be revealed throughout the chapters! I tried to create the OC to be kind of like a female-version of Eames and because he is so awesome, I thought it'd be fun to mess with his character a bit. All in good fun ;)
Please read and let me know what you think of chapter 1!
(Rated T: for some language)
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Eames collected his newest winnings, a large, over-confident grin flashing onto his features. His pile of poker chips grew even larger as his opponents angrily threw their cards down, getting up from their seats as they shot glares at the Englishman.
"You're a crook, Eames." One shot at him, gulping the remainder of his drink before slamming the glass down and stomping off.
"Hate the game, not the player, darling." Eames called after him, a wicked smile on his face. He began neatly stacking his chips, very satisfied as he calculated the amount of his winnings. Ah, life was sweet.
Still feeling the thrill of his victory, Eames didn't notice a body sit down across from him. "How about one more game, darling." A female voice spoke, clearly mocking his English accent, as she set down a stack of her own chips. The voice caught Eames by surprise, his gaze shot up and he stared at the woman completely dumbfounded before his features turned to complete anger.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here woman?" He managed to keep his voice low enough as he whispered in a harsh tone to keep himself from shouting and making a scene.
The woman sat unfazed as she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders, looking at him calmly before taking her time to answer him, "Just here to win some money. Aren't we all?" She let out a sweet little laugh before looking innocently at the dealer, "Can we begin please?"
Eames clenched his fists, anger almost coming to a boiling point as he saw straight through the woman's façade. She was not sweet, she was not innocent, she was the bloody devil in disguise that was specifically put on this earth to make his life a living hell.
"What's the matter Eamesie-boy? Afraid to get beat by a girl?" Her voice still held the faux air of sweetness. Eames shot her a glare before looking at the dealer, "deal the bloody cards." He scowled back at the woman.
"Oh! Five Card Draw, please." She giggled at the dealer just before he started dealing out the cards. "We don't usually play that here, miss." The dealer spoke but the woman simply waved him off, "Eames here won't mind. Besides, lady's choice right?" She threw a wink at Eames' direction and he just about lost it. And not in a sense that he would have lost it if any other woman would have given him a flirtatious wink; no, this woman made him want to reach across the table and slap that cheerful smug look right off her face. Now that he thought about it, that wouldn't be such a bad idea.
"I hope to bloody hell you're not stalking me now, woman." Eames broke the silence after a few moments as the dealer began to pass out the cards.
"You know, I have a name. Or did all that alcohol kill your brain-cells and make you forget?" She purposely asked just as Eames took a drink of his whiskey. "But I guess it's not like you had many to begin with." She added in a mumble, but knowing very well that Eames had heard her as he scowled at her, setting the glass back on the table a little more forcefully than necessary.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Raylie." He added her name to satisfy her, almost spitting it like it gave him a bad taste in his mouth. But for him, it most certainly did. The woman, known as Raylie, gave him an unconvinced look as Eames continued, his voice going back to a harsh whisper, "You may think you're being cute, but I have always been better than you, sweetheart. You and I both know that, so don't try and kid yourself." He held back a chuckle as he picked up his hand of cards, a satisfied smirk now on his face as he placed a small stack of his chips on the middle of the table, adding to the blind bet they had both started with. There was no need to hide behind a poker face when he was dealing with someone like her. In this game, luck and strategy didn't matter for the two of them. It was all about skill, and Eames knew he had always been better. He couldn't wait to see the humiliated look on her face when she lost. He only wished he had a camera to capture the moment.
She laid out a stack of her own chips, matching his bet before discarding two cards to the dealer so she could get two more. In reality she didn't need to discard any cards, but it never hurt to put on for the show.
"Eames dear," She began as she slid her arm across the table over to him, giving an affectionate touch on his hand then sliding her hand away before he had the chance to slap it away, "You must really be dreaming if you believe that." She gave him a smirk of her own before picking up her two new cards.
Eames glared at her, if only looks could kill. He knew very well he wasn't dreaming. He didn't even need to look at his totem to know that fact. This was as real as reality could get…she was just fucking with him.
"I'll raise you." She told him as she placed an even larger stack of chips in the pool. He gave her a mocking smirk as he put his own chips in, his bet larger than hers.
"All in?" She challenged him; the two stared down one another before both pushed all their chips to the middle of the table.
Any normal person would have been a complete idiot to make such a bet with the hand that Raylie had. A two of hearts, a ten of spades, a seven of hearts, a queen of clubs, and a five of diamonds. Complete crap; but not to someone with her skill. In the blink of an eye, two of the cards slowly shifted, one becoming a king of hearts, and the other a king of spades. She smirked inwardly at her handy-work. A pair of kings wouldn't normally win a game of poker against someone like Eames, and she could have just as easily made it so she held a full house or even a royal flush, but really, there was no need to brag. Especially since she very well knew Eames held nothing better in his hand than what her original cards had been.
Eames sat across from her, a smug expression graced his face because he in fact held a straight flush in his hands. "You look a little worried, love." He mocked her, not knowing that she was faking the anxious expression which now appeared on her face. "You wish I was you crooked bastard." She retorted, any sweetness her voice had held earlier was completely gone. Nothing irritated her more than an overly smug Eames.
Eames smirked at her reply before adding one more blow, "Let's up the stakes shall we? If I win, then we go around back, you get on your knees and put that mouth of yours to some good use." He gave her a suggestive grin, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
The remark caught her off guard, but she quickly regained her composure and shot back, "and if I win, you get on your knees and kiss my fucking ass." She remarked, her voice now venom as the Englishman chuckled, "You always were a hothead weren't you, darling?"
"Just lay your damn cards down." She mumbled in an annoyed tone, but really she couldn't wait to see the look on Eames' face when she won. "Ladies first." He motioned for her to lay her cards down.
"A pair of kings?" he asked in almost disbelief before letting out a laugh. "That's the best you could do? Oh sweetheart, I knew you were bad, but I didn't think you were that bad." His face held false sympathy before laughing some more. Wiping a tear from his eye he continued, "You better run along and meet me out back." He grinned as he laid his cards face up, his gaze never leaving Raylie's face.
He watched as she sat there, an unreadable expression on her face, and he had to admit, he was a little disappointed to see no look of anguish or humiliation. Just one of content.
"And the winnings go to the lady." The dealer spoke as he pushed the chips in Raylie's direction as her features turned to that of satisfaction. Eames shot a disbelieving look to the dealer as he quickly spoke, "What the bloody hell? She has a pair and I have a straight flu-" His words were cut short as he looked down at the cards he had played. A three of clubs, six of diamonds, eight of clubs, jack of hearts, nine of spades.
How the hell had that happened? He racked his mind for an answer, the last time he had looked at his cards he had indeed had a straight flush, but when he set them down, his cards were complete shit. That's when it hit him. Raylie. She had reached her hand over before touching his hand only a split second, but that's all it took to shift his cards. His gaze quickly shot up, seeing the woman stare back at him, arms crossed, an amused smile tugging at her lips and a mocking gleam in her eye. She was good.
"Looks like you're not so good after all, huh Eames?" A regular card player had said as he walked by, giving Eames a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before letting out a laugh.
Eames ignored the man, a death glare focused on the woman in front of him, his anger about to go over the edge.
The two Forgers stared at one another a second longer before Eames slammed his fist on the table and shot up from his chair. He pointed an accusing finger at Raylie, "You conniving little bitch!"
She only smirked as she stared up at him. Her voice mocking a false English-accent as she spoke, "Remember, hate the game, not the player, love."
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Hope you enjoyed! Oh how fun to beat Eames at his own game. It was originally just a one-shot, but I got so many ideas that I had to make it a story. So in the upcoming chapters, you'll learn more of their relationship. More to come soon! Please review and let me know what you think of this one. Thanks!