The Gambler
This is the Jemma/Gambit Soulmate Short, continued. I haven't got a complete plot worked out yet, but I'll get there… until then, we've got a morning-after to contend with…
Chapter One is of course just a repeat of the original Short. Chapter Two is where I pick up the thread of the story…
Chapter One – Karaoke Nightmare
Kenny Rogers – The Gambler
"It's your birthday and we are going out." Skye actually had a grip on Jemma's hair, marching her out of the lab and off to her room.
"All right, all right!"
"So put on a nice dress and let's go."
Jemma only had one good dress, a strappy, red number she'd bought on a whim and never worn. She put it on reluctantly.
"Stop trying to pull it up over your boobs, you look sexy as hell," Skye told her as they drove to the bar.
"Give over, no one's going to look twice at me with you and Bobbi along," Jemma shook her head, but Skye was insistent.
"You're beautiful, Jemma. Someday the right guy is gonna come along and make you believe it."
The bar wasn't far away. It wasn't her first visit with the team, but it was the first time Jemma had been there in a dress, and she was surprised by the appreciative looks she got. Not that she was interested. It wasn't like she was going to meet her soulmate in a place like this, was it?
Skye seemed determined to get her drunk, and in the end Jemma gave in and did a few tequila shots, feeling pleasantly buzzed afterwards.
"There's a hot guy at the bar, keeps staring at you," Skye nudged her. "Told you that dress was a good idea."
"I'm sure he's not," but Jemma couldn't help but look. She'd seen the guy Skye was talking about, he was unmissable. Longish brown hair, he was wearing a black leather coat over a grey T-shirt and a hat that shaded his eyes but in no way hid that he was extremely good-looking. And he was watching her, idly shuffling a pack of cards in his hands. He smiled as she looked at him. She looked away, blushing.
"More tequila," Skye decided.
Several drinks later, the karaoke started. They discovered that there was in fact something Melinda May couldn't do as she totally butchered Total Eclipse Of The Heart, and then Bobbi and Lance sang Summer Lovin' to each other and disappeared together afterwards.
"Oh no, not you," Jemma said as Fitz picked up the microphone. "You sing like a bullfrog."
Fitz grinned and poked her. "You do it then."
"Oh, all right," she chose a song. "My dad used to put this one on in the car."
"She can really sing," Fitz nudged Skye. "Watch this."
They watched as Jemma picked up the microphone and stepped up on the little stage, a touch unsteady in the black strappy heels Skye had coaxed her into. And then the music started and she began to sing, a low, sultry voice that made every man in the bar snap to attention.
"On a warm summer's eve, on a train bound for nowhere, I met up with the gambler, we were both too tired to sleep…"
From the corner of her eye, Jemma saw the hot guy at the bar suddenly jerk upright and jump to his feet. And then he was walking towards the stage slowly, staring at her.
What the hell, he's gorgeous. And I'm drunk. As he reached the stage, she sauntered over, deliberately swinging her hips, leaned over and put her free hand on his cheek, and sang the chorus directly to him.
"You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run…"
Skye whooped. "You go, girl!"
Jemma looked over at Skye, trying not to laugh as she sang. Hot Guy backed away, but he didn't stop staring at her.
At the end of the song, she curtseyed to the raucous applause and handed the microphone to a laughing Skye, insisting it was her turn. Hot and sweating, Jemma headed for the door, thinking she'd take a breather for a moment.
She ran right into Hot Guy outside. He caught her elbow as she stumbled, and little prickles of heat ran up her arm from his touch. He'd removed the hat and his coat, and he was even sexier now she could see his whole face.
"You have a lovely voice, chère," he said in a thick Cajun accent.
Those words were like a dash of cold water in the face for Jemma. They'd been scrawled on her inner thigh since the day of her birth. "What?" she gasped.
"Took me a while to figure out the words were from a song." He held out his arm, and she made out the words printed neatly on the inside of his forearm, visible now he'd taken his coat off. "Been looking for a girl who'd sing them to me for even longer. I'm Remy. Remy LeBeau."
"Well it's certainly an apt surname," Jemma couldn't help but say. "Handsome."
"So what's your name, chère?" he lifted her hand to his lips, gazing down at her. "Since it seems you're my soulmate and all."
"Jemma. Simmons."
Remy drew a little closer to her, her hand still held in his, and then his free arm slid around her waist.
There was something really strange about his eyes. Jemma frowned, her drunken brain trying to figure out what it was, and then Remy whirled her around suddenly, bringing her hand to the back of his neck.
"I got secrets, chère, dangerous secrets," he whispered in her ear, his low, husky voice making her shiver with sudden want.
"So do I," she gasped back. "Maybe – maybe that's why I'm meant to be yours."
"I surely do like the sound of that. Mine." He nibbled at her ear, and she almost melted. "I'll find you soon," he whispered, and suddenly he was gone, as Skye and Fitz spilled out of the bar, calling her name. For an instant Jemma saw him in the distance, a shadowy figure, his hat over his eyes again. And then he was gone.
"What's this?" Skye held something out to her. It was a playing card.
The Queen of Hearts.
So chapter 2 follows on directly afterwards – well, the morning after, anyway.
