"I'll take three," Radar threw three cards down on the table and peered suspiciously over the edge of his remaining two. BJ, Charles, Hawkeye, Klinger, Margaret, Father Mulcahy, and Radar were all sandwiched around a table in the officer's club (Potter was on duty in post-op). Even after four hours of poker no one seemed to be ahead.
"Lucky kid must have two of a kind," BJ grinned as he dealt Radar his cards and then turned to Father Mulchahy. "What do you want, Father?"
Father Mulcahy looked upwards and closed his eyes, offering a short prayer. "I'll take two, BJ."
After BJ dealt the man his cards Hawkeye slid one card towards BJ. "I'll have one, my good man." The other seven looked at him nervously, wondering if he was bluffing. BJ sighed and handed Hawkeye a card.
"Well, I'm out," BJ mumbled disappointedly.
"Five dollars," Charles threw a crisp bill into the growing heap in the middle of the table. Hawkeye grinned at the man and raised his eyebrows.
"Sure you want to Chuckles?"
"Quite," the man responded curtly.
Klinger sighed loudly and threw his cards down in disgust. "I haven't had a good hand all night. The only time I won anything is when I bluffed my way through with a lousy king!" He stood up, gathering what was left of his cash. "I'm stopping while I still have twenty dollars left to my name."
Hawkeye grinned. "I sure would hate to be your name."
Margaret rolled her eyes and the bad joke. "Will you keep your mouth shut?" she growled.
Hawkeye snapped his mouth shut and shrugged. "Mmmmm mhhhmmm mhhmmmm," he said, keeping his lips firmly shut the entire sentence.
Margaret glared at him and shook her head. "Why do I bother?" she mumbled.
"I'm in," she declared as she pulled five wrinkled bills from her pocket.
"Mmm, m mhmm m mhmmm mhhmmm."
"He said, 'Oh you have a secret stash?'" Radar piped in, receiving a few odd stares and an amused snort from BJ.
Father Mulcahy stood up slowly laying his cards down softly. "I'm down to my last few dollars. "I had better stop as well."
"Mmmm, mhmm mmmmm mhhhhmm mhhmmm."
"'The night's just begun'," Radar translated, once again.
The padre shrugged and smiled, looking at Hawkeye. "Well for me and my wallet it just ended."
Radar stared at his cards for a moment and then threw in five dollars without saying a word.
Hawkeye looked around at the remaining three players and smiled. "I'll raise you another five," he said grinning at Charles.
"You always think your better than everyone else don't you?" Margaret fumed. She pulled out a ten dollar bill and threw it on the table. "Well I'll see your five and raise you again." Margaret had been stewing about something all day but no one had expected her to blow up, especially not over a game of poker.
"Uh, Major," Charles said softly and yet condescendingly. "It's not your turn. You see in poker, you place bets in order…"
"Oh shut up, Charles." She snapped. "Don't you dare patronize me!" Charles slunk back slightly in his chair and crossed his arms as if he were pouting.
"What's eating you?" Hawkeye asked coolly, knowing that he had better open his mouth and speak correctly unless he wanted to evoke her wrath. "Besides the rats I mean." He just couldn't resist adding a bit of humor.
"Nothing's eating me. And nothing's bothering me either! I just think you have a crappy hand and I'm raising you five!"
"Fine," Hawkeye pulled out another two bills. "I'll see your five and raise you ten."
BJ, who was still sitting at the table, quickly stood up and walked over to the bar and was joined shortly by Radar and Charles. Both Margaret and Hawkeye seemed completely unaware of their absence.
"You certainly are confident of yourself," she seethed. "I don't see why you can never admit that someone may be better than you."
Hawkeye duly noted that she wasn't talking about her hand at all; he wondered what had made her so angry in the first place.
"Maybe, because I always have the best hand," he said, trying to steer her attention back to the game; it didn't work.
Margaret jumped up and slammed her hands on the table, leaning towards Hawkeye. "You always think that everyone should just fold to you! Well what if they drew something better? What if they don't want to fold? Then you make their life miserable! And god forbid that it turns out their hand wasn't so great after all, then you'd make their lives a living hell with all your gloating!" Margaret was breathing heavily and her face was bright red.
All at once Hawkeye realized exactly what she was really talking about. He glanced at the three men at the bar, all seemingly oblivious of the deeper meaning of Margaret's ranting. For a moment Hawkeye was tempted to pity the woman before him. But he made the mistake of playing her words over in his mind and his wounded pride caused his anger to boil up inside.
Hawkeye stood up and leaned across the table, his face only inches away from Margaret's, his steely glare meeting her icy one. When he spoke his voice was so low only she could catch the words. "If your hand is so rotten, it's your own fault. You're the one who threw away the other cards." He growled menacingly. "Don't expect pity or sympathy just because you decide you want your old cards back."
Margaret straightened quickly when she realized Hawkeye had caught on to the double meaning of her rant. "I never said I wanted my old cards back. They were just as rotten if not worse." Her voice was back to normal, cool and collected.
Hawkeye stared at her intensely. "Worse, or just risky?" He held his breath wondering if he should have asked that, he wasn't certain if he wanted the answer.
Margaret stared at him, her stomach churning. He was right and she knew it. Their relationship had been risky, and she had been scared. She was a coward… could she admit it?
"It was a rotten hand," she finally stated.
Hawkeye sighed and straightened up. "You could still make something out of the cards you have."
"It's a crummy hand."
"Well, like I said, it was your choice to get new cards in the first place. Don't expect pity."
Margaret glared at him and marched outside, turning back right outside the doors. "You were the one who dealt me the cards," she said icily before quickly walking towards her tent.
Hawkeye stood motionless for a moment before downing his martini in one gulp, finishing off BJ's ands stalking outside.
BJ and Charles were both keenly aware of what the two former-lovers had been arguing about. Radar however, looked at BJ blankly.
"I thought you dealt her cards." he said naively. BJ snickered and shook his head, walking over to the table to clean up. He knew no one felt like playing any more.
"Why do we allow these things to be co-ed?" he muttered. Out of curiosity, Charles walked over to the table and flipped over Margaret and Hawkeye's cards which they had both flung to the table disdainfully.
"Oh jeez," Radar said softly, looking over the man's shoulder.
BJ leaned over to look and whistled softly. "I didn't even think that could happen."
Charles shook his head in amazement. "The odds are outrageous." The man tossed the cards onto the table. Both Margaret and Hawkeye had been holding a royal flush.