The woman watched his hands intently, but no matter how hard she focused, he knew that she would never recognize the trick. Not only his were hands too fast for the average eye to follow, he'd trained his fingers to wield magic just as well as any part of him could, to the point where he could fine tune his moves to the millimeter, nanosecond, or whatever small measurement was out there these days. It was almost as if the cards were a part of him now, extensions of his spirit that coated and clothed him better than his old hat. He tapped a drop of invisible magic into his fingertips and suddenly the scarlet card shifted to ocean blue, then golden yellow. He flicked it between his knuckles, swirling it like a ribbon, then exposed his palms as the card disappeared.

The woman's eyes scrunched and she folded her arms, her golden jewelry jingling and glinting from the bar light. Oohs and ahhs rang across the room, but he could see the frustration in her eyes. Her soft azure skin flushed purple in her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed in concentration.

Finally she gave up. "How?" she asked exasperatedly, her arms still folded. "It's not fair. I can't crack it. What did you do?"

He smiled a wolfish grin, turning the brim of his hat down low as he sat back in his chair. "Sorry darlin'. Magicians never reveal their tricks. Now you have to have a round of poker with me."

The woman scowled, but laid her hands flat on the table as a dealer whipped out a deck of cards. "Why are you constantly trying to play games with people if you're so sure you'll win? Is it a sadistic pleasure?"

He shrugged. "Nothin's set in stone. You reckon you can beat me?"

She gave a smile.

The dealer to deal and set up the game as people gathered around the wooden table to watch, eyes all on him, all on the two opponents. He was an old man, the dealer, with wrinkled hands that shook and jittered with every movement. He watched the dealer intently, more out of habit than out of fascination. Anything he could use to his advantage, a slip up or a slight reveal as he planted the cards the cards onto the table. It was like he was conditioned to look for these small things, to have a blank smiling face no matter what the fix was. The people stared lasers into the table, watching the dealer's every move. Probably looking for some sign of cheating, which he wasn't too surprised at. He had a reputation here now, especially since he rarely lost. Maybe once. Maybe never.

He held his hand close as the woman picked up hers. His eyes widened a bit. He caught a glimpse of a decent hand – a six of hearts and what could be a seven spades – but he didn't get to see for sure. That was okay. He was sure it wouldn't really matter in the end.

They played for about ten minutes. Ten minutes of scrutinized stares from intrigued onlookers, of loud jeers and flirts from drunk men around the bar, of giggling ladies that laughed at everything, of a trickle of sweat that had managed to work its way down her otherwise convincing poker face. The dealer, standing at the side of the table, nodded once at the woman, urging her to show her hand.

So it wasn't bad. Pretty good, actually. It turned out that she did have a six and seven, and she used three of the community cards to make a nice hand. A full house that anyone would and should praise her for. The spectators gasped. Some even applauded, sending looks of expectation at him. A full house was hard to beat in the poker world, damn hard. Any person would start sweating profusely by now. Some would flip the table. Other spectators sent sneers, most likely people who he'd beaten in the past. That was big list. Or maybe there were people, people who seriously believed that his career of cheating and winning had finally come to an end at the hands of this blue lady, a woman renowned to defeat even the greatest of legends. That was probably it.

He smiled and chuckled softly, then placed his hand below the community cards.

The woman's face fell and her eyes widened. "Impossible," she said, shaking her head.

His smile widened as the rest of the crowd leered at this seemingly impossible royal flush. "It's the luck of the draw." He winked.

"You must have a fixed— okay, there's no way that could have happened. You had them up your sleeve. Or you did something when I wasn't looking. Or obviously he's," she eyed the dealer heartlessly, "your friend or something."

"I've never seen him before in my life, darlin'," he said, laughing. "I reckon I'm just good at what I do."

"But, but I had a straight flush. There's no way you could pull that right after I—" She sighed. The woman looked like she wanted to argue further, but she cleared her face and stood instead, outstretching her hand. He smiled and took it.

With a surge of strength, she pulled him forward until her mouth was at his ear and he could see smell the perfume on her skin. "Very well. You beat me this time," she whispered, her voice drowning out the applause from the onlookers. "But I know that you did something. One day. One day soon. Maybe if he doesn't do anything tonight I'll get a chance." Then she released him.

He became interested. "If who doesn't do what tonight?" he asked, grinning seductively. "Aw shucks. I hope you're not one of those types of women." He pulled her back, close. "Or then again, maybe I do."

"What are you getting at?" she asked, but he could see it in her eyes. Recklessness. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

He chuckled and held her hands. "Of course not. Only a fool would think that. But I ain't gonna let you get away. You did lose, darlin'. Which means you owe me somethin'."

"I don't have any money on me, so forget it. We agreed that we weren't placing real bets."

"Ain't nobody ever mentioned any money, sweetheart. No, all I want is a dance."

"A dance? That's it?"

"Dance with me. Come on. You'll have fun."

"Do you even know how to dance?"

He laughed. "Who do you think your talking to, darlin'?" He pulled her closer.

"I think I'm talking to a card shark who knows how to use his hands a little too well," she replied with a tempting smirk. "Definitely not a dancer."

"Well then," he whispered as he pulled her near the jukebox, leaving the cards and the game behind. "I reckon I'll leave you to find out."

Suddenly, there was a loud bang at the front of the bar as the heavy wooden doors slammed open against the wall. He jumped, startled, looking for the culprit of the sound. Maybe a party of friends. Maybe someone who had a bit too much to drink tonight. He couldn't see past the milling people, but he could hear the collective gasps and screams from the around the room as those who were closer caught sight of whoever it was, leading him to believe that it was neither of these. The lady suddenly released his hands and shied away, attempting to shield herself from the new threat.

The crowd parted right in the middle like the Red Sea, until he could see entrance of the bar or, better yet, the man who stood in front of it, baring his cannon of a gun at him like some sort of bounty hunter. Cigar in mouth as usual, smiling a smile as if he scored a victory. The room went silent, looking between the two men apprehensively as if holding their breaths.

Twisted Fate smiled and rose his hands in mock surrender as the man across him released a puff of smoke. His eyes shifted to the woman, who was to his right. "Looks like we won't be dancin' tonight, sweetheart," he said, chuckling softly.

The man across snickered. "Really Fate?" Graves said, aiming his gun. "Here I was thinkin' that you might have learned a little somethin' since we last met. Such as how to keep your tracks covered so no one could trace you."

"Only a man who's afraid covers his tracks, Malcolm, and I ain't afraid of anythin'. Not even that blowstick of destiny of yours. All I wanted to do tonight was dance."

"Shut up. The only person who'll be dancin' after this one is me, on your grave," Graves spat and he cocked his gun, the clicks echoing through the still bar. The bar owner, a stout man who had the patience of an angry wasp, opened his mouth but closed it quickly. Though he would usually tell any bozo to take his business outside his bar, he could tell that any interference might be deadly at this point.

Fate grinned and felt that magic welling up inside him. A spiritual wind swept across the still room, and the cards that lay forgotten at the table behind him silently came to life, floating in small spirals to his waiting fingers. More oohs and ahhs, but not enough to call attention to Graves. He could feel the ace slip into his hand and tapped magic into it, holding the yellow card behind his back. He laughed inside. Graves wouldn't be ready for this one.

"Well then?" he said, taunting. "You're the one with the big gun. Make your move, partner."