"This is boring," Rodney McKay said as he looked at his hand.

"Poker is boring?" John Sheppard asked.

Rodney looked at his team leader, scowling. "Yes." McKay looked back at his cards. "I'll raise twenty."

"It is not boring, Rodney. But I can understand why YOU might think it is," Carson Beckett noted, shaking his head at his friend's bet. "Call."

"Oh, really? And why, pray tell, would that be?"

"I think I know the answer," Radek Zelenka began, but he stopped quickly once McKay sent him the evil 'I'm your boss, watch what you say' stare. "Call," he said instead.

"Rodney, you never win a hand. No doubt that must get old," Beckett explained.

"Tiresome," Zelenka agreed.

"Boring," Sheppard chimed in. "Call," he continued as he grinned at his friend.

"Yes, well, that would explain it," Rodney agreed sarcastically.

"Look, it's not surprising that you're not good at this." Rodney sneered as the colonel continued. "No, really. You don't have much of a poker face."

"I fooled Colonel O'Neill and Woolsey, didn't I?" Rodney said in his own defense.

"Uh, incentive? You know, live if it works, die of it doesn't? Poker doesn't quite have the same stakes, if you get my drift."

Rodney looked at John. "That actually does explain it. That's surprisingly…deep of you."

"Gee, thanks Rodney."

"You're just mad because Dr. Weir took away the keys, so to speak," Carson said. "Let's show what you've got, lads," he added, indicating that it was time to see who'd won this hand.

"THAT definitely sucks," John complained as he watched Rodney place his cards in the center of the table. "Two pairs? Nines over sixes, though 'over' seems an extreme statement in this case. With a seven kicker. We're all shaking in our boots."

"Oh shut up," Rodney whined.

"Carson?" John asked.

"Three threes," the physician answered. "Sorry, Rodney." A ten and a king rounded out his hand.

"Hmph."

"You really suck at this game, McKay," John joked. "Radek?"

Zelenka puffed out his chest, offering an elated smile, and laid down three aces, an eight and a queen.

"Radek?" Rodney asked.

"Yes, Rodney."

"Haven't you had three of something in almost every hand?"

"Well, I think 'almost' might be an exaggeration," Radek replied.

"I don't think so," Sheppard challenged, taking McKay's side in this argument. "It does seem rather peculiar."

"And statistically impossible," Rodney criticized.

"Are you suggesting that I am a cheater? That I have stacked the deck?"

"Simmer down. We all know that nobody needs to stack the deck to beat Rodney," Carson offered helpfully. The Scot smiled wryly at the Canadian.

"Thanks so much," Rodney retorted snappily.

"Rodney?" Radek asked, still waiting for an answer.

McKay looked at his science colleague. Despite the clear and convincing evidence to the contrary, he knew that Zelenka wouldn't cheat. He sagged in his chair, sighed and said, "Of course not. You just have the most unbelievable, freakish luck in the galaxy."

"This does seem true," Radek agreed. He looked over to the colonel. "And you?"

"Apparently," John started as he set one card down at a time, "my luck must be, well, I'm not sure there's a word to describe it." He proceeded to put down four deuces. His fifth card was Carson's other three.

"I think I could come up with a word," Rodney said miserably.

John watched his sulking friend. They both missed the fun of the Ancient 'game' that Elizabeth had banned them from ever playing again. Now that they knew the ramifications of their actions, they really had no desire to play it anymore. But everything else they did for fun these days seemed to pale in comparison to that challenge.

Sheppard cocked his head, presented a slightly crooked grin and said, "I think maybe it's time we find a new game to play."

Carson and Radek each looked to Rodney. McKay looked up and saw his three friends looking at him.

"Hey, I don't disagree," he replied. "Any suggestions?"

"You know," Radek said softly, leaning toward the center of the table conspiratorially, "Lorne and I were thinking that we should find some unused section of the city for paintball."

"Paintball?" Carson asked, his eyes lighting up despite his worries over the injuries he would end up treating.

"Paintball?" Rodney contemplated, clearly liking that idea way more than five card stud.

"Paintball," John said, his eyes glazing over, the crooked grin morphing into a stupid one.

"It seems we all like the idea. Who's going to go to Elizabeth?" Carson asked.

"Who says we have to run this by her?"

The End