A Game of Cards
All characters and thematic elements belong to Bandai Entertainment and Sunrise, Inc.
Chapter 1
There hadn't been reports of a bounty for weeks. It seemed like the ISSP were finally starting to do their jobs. Which was really murder on Spike's stomach. It wasn't even growling anymore. A sigh came from Faye's direction of the couch. She was playing some kind of very complicated solitaire. Her chin was resting on her hand. She seemed to have come to an impasse.
"Why don't you cheat?" Spike asked drily, rooting around his pocket for a cigarette.
"It's no fun cheating against yourself," Faye muttered. Her eyes narrowed and she flipped over a card, which led to a sweep of movement and another impasse. "Damn," she sighed.
"I bet you a woolong I could beat you."
She glared at him for a moment, not even bothering to designate the paltry sum with an answer. Then she went back to the solitaire game.
"All right, all right, a billion woolongs."
She laughed at this. "Neither of us have a billions woolongs."
"Yeah, I know. Consider it incentive for the loser to put some bell peppers and beef on this ship."
"Well, all right," she said, picking up the cards in an expert scoop. She put her fingers at either side of the cards and separated them out from each other. All the cards turned one way were in one of her hands; all the cards facing the opposite direction were in her other hand. "As long as you're going to somehow get the money you're bound to lose."
"Well, I'm not playing with that trick deck," he said. "And if I catch you cheating, you automatically lose and owe me the billion woolongs."
"Hey!" she protested, cards in mid-shuffle, "That's not fair!"
Spike frowned as his took a puff of his cigarette. "Woman, you have got some funny definition of fair."
She grinned. "It's a really smart definition, as far as I'm concerned."
Spike stood. "I'll get a deck to use."
"Fine!" she shouted after his retreating figure. "But I'm dealing!"
As he entered his room, Spike smirked. Faye was entertaining, he had to give her that. She was easy to read through, though, which was why he supposed she'd gotten herself into as much trouble as she had. She desperately wanted to be a survivalist, an egoist, only out for herself. She'd always turn back from saving herself at the last minute, for a friend. He'd seen her do it when she thought no one else was looking. A good heart that kept beating through the storm, while his own had shut its eyes on the day he pretended to die. Spike searched on his cluttered desk for the pack of cards and came upon them next to a Spanish-English dictionary. He brought the pack to his lips for luck, thinking of how he hadn't thought about Julia in a while, and felt the old familiar pang in the chest you get when someone doesn't love you quite enough. He shook his head, a went back into the living space, where Faye was waiting like a predator. He threw the pack to her.
"Your deal," he said. She looked like she was going to eat the deck. He supposed she was thinking of it as a meal ticket by now. He didn't really care whether he was going to win or lose. He just needed something to do.
"This," Faye sighed happily as she went through the deck, "is what I live for."
"Is it a Romany thing?"
Faye dealt the first hand. "Maybe."
Spike picked up his hand. "What are we playing?"
"Canasta. Deuces are wild, red threes count for fifty, and two canastas to go out."
"Canasta?" Spike asked incredulously.
"What? You think all I do is play poker?"
As much of a game of skill as canasta was, it was also largely a game of luck. Especially when the people playing were more concerned with racking up astronomical points than going out early to rob points from the other. Spike and Faye were also viciously competitive about the pile. The more you added to the pile to keep the other from getting it, the more valuables landed on top of it. Faye went out the first round, but Spike had double her points because he'd taken the pile. Strategically, Faye went out early the second round, noticing that Spike tended to horde his cards. He stopped this practice the third round, and went out before Faye, although he didn't manage to rob her of many points. By the fourth round both of them had 4050 points, just on the brink of winning the game. Both could get over the 5000 point hurdle, but the one with more points would win. So the two returned to hording and baiting the pile. Faye had all four red threes and two mottled canastas. On a whim, she exposed enough of her cards for another canasta and put down an eight for a straight canasta. It was a good thing her instincts had cut in, because Spike went out the next round.
She sat back and smiled like a cat who'd discovered a very fat canary.
"How many points?" Spike asked.
"6340," she replied.
Spike started to grin, which wasn't a really good sign. "I've got 6350," he said.
She pounced on him and grabbed his cards from his hand. She counted them quickly once, again, a third time, her curses growing astronomically. Then she counted her own hand. She sat back again.
"Well?" Spike asked.
"Oh, you know perfectly well you won," she muttered.
He laughed and she glared at him. "Looks like you owe me a billion woolongs."
Faye growled under her breath, but maintained. "When is Big Shot on?"
All characters and thematic elements belong to Bandai Entertainment and Sunrise, Inc.
Chapter 1
There hadn't been reports of a bounty for weeks. It seemed like the ISSP were finally starting to do their jobs. Which was really murder on Spike's stomach. It wasn't even growling anymore. A sigh came from Faye's direction of the couch. She was playing some kind of very complicated solitaire. Her chin was resting on her hand. She seemed to have come to an impasse.
"Why don't you cheat?" Spike asked drily, rooting around his pocket for a cigarette.
"It's no fun cheating against yourself," Faye muttered. Her eyes narrowed and she flipped over a card, which led to a sweep of movement and another impasse. "Damn," she sighed.
"I bet you a woolong I could beat you."
She glared at him for a moment, not even bothering to designate the paltry sum with an answer. Then she went back to the solitaire game.
"All right, all right, a billion woolongs."
She laughed at this. "Neither of us have a billions woolongs."
"Yeah, I know. Consider it incentive for the loser to put some bell peppers and beef on this ship."
"Well, all right," she said, picking up the cards in an expert scoop. She put her fingers at either side of the cards and separated them out from each other. All the cards turned one way were in one of her hands; all the cards facing the opposite direction were in her other hand. "As long as you're going to somehow get the money you're bound to lose."
"Well, I'm not playing with that trick deck," he said. "And if I catch you cheating, you automatically lose and owe me the billion woolongs."
"Hey!" she protested, cards in mid-shuffle, "That's not fair!"
Spike frowned as his took a puff of his cigarette. "Woman, you have got some funny definition of fair."
She grinned. "It's a really smart definition, as far as I'm concerned."
Spike stood. "I'll get a deck to use."
"Fine!" she shouted after his retreating figure. "But I'm dealing!"
As he entered his room, Spike smirked. Faye was entertaining, he had to give her that. She was easy to read through, though, which was why he supposed she'd gotten herself into as much trouble as she had. She desperately wanted to be a survivalist, an egoist, only out for herself. She'd always turn back from saving herself at the last minute, for a friend. He'd seen her do it when she thought no one else was looking. A good heart that kept beating through the storm, while his own had shut its eyes on the day he pretended to die. Spike searched on his cluttered desk for the pack of cards and came upon them next to a Spanish-English dictionary. He brought the pack to his lips for luck, thinking of how he hadn't thought about Julia in a while, and felt the old familiar pang in the chest you get when someone doesn't love you quite enough. He shook his head, a went back into the living space, where Faye was waiting like a predator. He threw the pack to her.
"Your deal," he said. She looked like she was going to eat the deck. He supposed she was thinking of it as a meal ticket by now. He didn't really care whether he was going to win or lose. He just needed something to do.
"This," Faye sighed happily as she went through the deck, "is what I live for."
"Is it a Romany thing?"
Faye dealt the first hand. "Maybe."
Spike picked up his hand. "What are we playing?"
"Canasta. Deuces are wild, red threes count for fifty, and two canastas to go out."
"Canasta?" Spike asked incredulously.
"What? You think all I do is play poker?"
As much of a game of skill as canasta was, it was also largely a game of luck. Especially when the people playing were more concerned with racking up astronomical points than going out early to rob points from the other. Spike and Faye were also viciously competitive about the pile. The more you added to the pile to keep the other from getting it, the more valuables landed on top of it. Faye went out the first round, but Spike had double her points because he'd taken the pile. Strategically, Faye went out early the second round, noticing that Spike tended to horde his cards. He stopped this practice the third round, and went out before Faye, although he didn't manage to rob her of many points. By the fourth round both of them had 4050 points, just on the brink of winning the game. Both could get over the 5000 point hurdle, but the one with more points would win. So the two returned to hording and baiting the pile. Faye had all four red threes and two mottled canastas. On a whim, she exposed enough of her cards for another canasta and put down an eight for a straight canasta. It was a good thing her instincts had cut in, because Spike went out the next round.
She sat back and smiled like a cat who'd discovered a very fat canary.
"How many points?" Spike asked.
"6340," she replied.
Spike started to grin, which wasn't a really good sign. "I've got 6350," he said.
She pounced on him and grabbed his cards from his hand. She counted them quickly once, again, a third time, her curses growing astronomically. Then she counted her own hand. She sat back again.
"Well?" Spike asked.
"Oh, you know perfectly well you won," she muttered.
He laughed and she glared at him. "Looks like you owe me a billion woolongs."
Faye growled under her breath, but maintained. "When is Big Shot on?"