11. Remy LeBeau

"I thought you didn't like him?" Jane asked, puzzled, sprawled out on the couch.

Darcy shrugged, which was a particularly odd motion considering her legs were hooked over the back of the couch while her head hung upside-down over the edge. "Meh. He's fun to borrow and take out on the town. A little too cocky for my taste, though."

Jane considered this, then poked her ex-assistant in the side. "You're best friends with Clint Barton and Tony Stark."

There was a snort, followed by the strangest explanation Jane had ever heard. "Okay, allow me to rephrase. I like cocky men, but only if they have some deep-seated issues with inferiority or trust or self-doubt, etc."

"That's…" The scientist tried to figure out why it made her uncomfortable. "You prefer men who are a psychological mess over ones confident in themselves? That's really rather twisted."

Sighing, Darcy swung her legs onto the couch to sit upright and crossed her legs under her. "I know. It's just… reassuring, I guess, to know I'm not alone in being mentally and emotionally screwed up. Plus, excessive self-confidence leads to pride, and pride means you stop questioning yourself or admit when you're wrong, and that's what causes wars. That insistence that a single individual's view is the not the only one that matters, but the only one period.

"So, yes, if I know someone who's cocky, I either do my best to shock them into falling down off their high horse, or am happy when they have that annoying, niggling voice inside that forces them to reconsider their actions and motives."

Jane mused on the words for a moment, then smiled and teased, "That's the Political Science Major talking." Then Jane tilted her head, eyebrows creeping up. "Wait, then why are you inviting him to the poker game? You said he's a genius at gambling. Won't winning against the Avengers increase his belief of superiority?"

Darcy's answering grin was vicious. "I invited him because I also have a secret weapon. It'll cost me, but it will also be well worth both money and increased paperwork."

At first, the older friend didn't understand. And then she combined the different clues from past tales of poker nights and came to the correct conclusion. And she started to laugh. "You are an evil, evil woman, Darcy Lewis."

The student puffed up like a peacock. "If I'm good at something, why not use it?"

"Can't argue with that."

…

It was late Friday night, and the previously self-assured Gambit was staring in shock as another poker player casually reached out and drew every chip on the table toward himself. Remy LeBeau had just been hustled by the most mild-mannered individual he had ever met.

He cursed heavily before demanding of Darcy, "You couldn' 'ave warned Remy, chere?"

She giggled. "Sorry, hon. I guess I never introduced you. Remy LeBeau, meet SHIELD Special Agent and the handler of the Avenger Initiative, Agent Phil Coulson, aka, Agent Deadlier-Than-a-SWAT-Team-in-Full-Riot-Gear. He never loses. Ever."

And Phil simply smiled a politely enigmatic smile. "It was nice to meet you."