"I thought you weren't supposed to gamble anymore?" A curious looking Glenn looked up from his training manual.

"I told you, it's not gambling, it's a 'raffle'," Karsh responded absent-mindedly, pushing his way through the throng of people to get to the blackjack table. Glenn sighed, he was thirteen now, not three, and he wondered how it was Karsh could be so smart and yet so stupid at the same time.

"I know what blackjack is, Karsh. My dad used to play it with your dad, all the time. And I know what a raffle is." Karsh sighed and turned around, squatting down not nearly as much as he remembered having to crouch, and put his hands on Glenn's shoulders.

"Listen, Glenn, right now, it's a 'raffle,' plain and simple. Can you go with that?"

Glenn had to think for a moment about Karsh's words.

"You want me to lie when Dario asks where you were?" Glenn asked. Karsh smirked, looking at the ground as a hoarse laugh escaped his mouth.

"You don't cut corners, do ya kid?" he asked amused, quirking an eyebrow at his best friend's kid brother. Glenn had been growing quick, he just hadn't realized how quick. "Listen, I think you're old enough for me to let you in on a little philosophy of mine, alright?" Glenn nodded, skeptical of Karsh's treacherous scheming. "Lying… is really just another form of telling the truth, right?" Glenn furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't think so," he responded.

"I'm not finished. So, we're at the Termina Fair, right? There's games and shit here. Raffles and gambling. I already participated in a raffle, sooo, if you leave out the blackjack part, you really didn't lie at all, right? You just… left some parts out. You told the truth, just not all of it. There, finito, is your conscious clean now?"

For the first time, Karsh saw cunning and sly understanding slither over Glenn's chubby face, his plump lips snaking into a comprehensive smile as he looked at Karsh.

"I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, you want me to lie." Karsh rolled his eyes, standing up as he cut his tethers to Dario's miniature replica of morality and justice. He was just as bad, if not worse, than Dario.

"You're hopeless. You and Dario and your whole family are just... hopeless. Haven't you ever heard of a white lie before?" he asked no one in particular as he tossed his hands up in frustration.

"Lots of soldiers say you're a bad influence on the trainees." At that, Karsh rolled his eyes again. For all of his shrewd and rascal ways of fighting against the fray, Karsh was a good man and, though at times it was hard to see, he was a positive role model of loyalty and respect. Although he could be wild and wily, it was not without balance.

"Lots of soldiers ain't Deva, either, so lots of soldiers can go shove it."

"If I call it a 'raffle,' when Dario comes back, will you let me play?" The honey in Karsh's eyes went wild like fire, flaring up like buzzing beehives at the prospect of passing his honed skills of gambling down to Glenn. For as wide as the age gap could sometimes be, Dario always included Glenn in most everything they did, and Karsh revered him as a brother as much as he revered Dario. A wicked side smile flashed across Karsh's face before he responded.

"You good at hiding?"

"Hiding?"

"Yeah, like… creeping in the background or something? I think I got a little job you'd be perfect for." Glenn looked curious, like he usually was, and listened to Karsh's scheme.

OOOOOOOOOO

By the time Karsh had finished with his climactic twentieth or so round of blackjack, most of the table had cleared out with empty pockets. The dealer stood behind the table, impressed with Karsh's skill, before dismissing the final round and closing down the stand.

Karsh sat, counting his money, surrounded by a stack of various dollar bills.

"How'd I do?" Glenn bounded over, eager to see how well he performed. Karsh smiled a wide, nearly paternally proud smile as he pulled him under his arm and kissed the side of his head.

"How'd you do? How do you think you did, my boy? We're practically goddamn royalty." Glenn smiled. It had been Karsh's idea to swindle the dealer out of his cards, but it had been Glenn's genius that decided how they would go about getting a good look at them. His stealth training had certainly paid off, and in combination with the fair's minimal security, the two of them had cleaned the house out like a pair of thieving bandits.

A low whistle came from behind Karsh as he rejoiced with his partner in crime.

"Where did you get all that money from?" Karsh turned around; it was Dario.

"Uhhh…." He stammered, looking for the right words.

"We won it in a raffle," Glenn interjected, smiling up at Dario. His big brother furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Karsh.

"Oh, really? Because it looks more like gambling winnings from this angle." Karsh smiled and Glenn giggled, giddy from the excitement. Tilting back on one leg of his chair, Karsh let his head dangle backwards as he looked up at Dario.

"You're looking at it the wrong way then. Tilt your head a little to the left, then you'll get the right angle." Karsh looked down at Glenn, the two of them sheepish and obvious but high from their winnings. "Ain't that right, Glenn?" Glenn nodded and Dario laughed.

Taking a seat next to his best friend, he looked at him with mirthful eyes.

"You're not supposed to be gambling, remember?" Dario noted, unable to hide the faint smile sliding across his face. Karsh shrugged.

"Once a cowboy, always a cowboy."