"Royal Flush"

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, here, lovely people, including the marvelous game of poker. That belongs to the world. The Nightstalkers, by which I mostly mean Hannibal King, belong to Marvel firstly while the others owe more to David S. Goyer for their existence. I ask only that I not be sued (I'm looking at you, Marvel). I apologize beforehand to Goyer and the actors who portrayed the Nightstalkers. There's no excuse for this.

Author's Notes: It's a story about the Nightstalkers playing strip poker. That's really about it. I can only say that it seemed like a good idea at the time, that time being filled with booze and hormones. If you need a time period, let's say that it's exactly three months and two days after King was rescued from Danica's manicured clutches. Please enjoy the gratuitous nakedness of this story, keep in mind that this is the cleanest story that I can post right now,and remember that only a strongly-worded review will teach me the lesson that I so richly deserve. Thank you.

Zoe had only been in bed for ten minutes before Dex had pulled out the cards. He had suggested strip poker for the first time and everybody seemed eager, even Sommerfield. She had bought the Braille deck and given it to Dex for his last birthday, saying that if he was going to insist on playing poker every time they all had the night off, she was going to participate. That first night she had won nearly three hundred dollars. Abigail secretly thought that Dex had suggested the stripping so he could keep his money. For a man that loved the game so much, he was sure lousy at it.

A brief argument ensued when King had asked whether weapons counted as articles of clothing. They had only briefly started allowing the ex-vampire to have weapons and he'd taken every opportunity to load up on them. Since he'd just come back to the hideout after a hunt with Dex a few hours ago, he was still hoarding enough weaponry to fund a small army. Hedges, who was only in a T-shirt and pants, didn't think that it would be fair, while Dex and Abigail, never one to be unarmed, backed King up. Since Sommerfield didn't care, the majority won. Hedges reluctantly cut the deck, complaining about the discrimination against civilians.

King had a lousy poker face, swearing most times when his hand was bad and swearing creatively when his hand was good. With these oral clues Sommerfield, who had a great poker face, was taking him to the cleaners. She already had his guns, holsters, both of his gloves, and his belt. Abigail had lost her arm brace to Hedges and her hair tie to Dex. Sommerfield had taken most of her weapons as well, but Abigail had managed to get her hands on a stake that King had gotten Hedges to put in his right boot. It popped out when he moved his foot in a certain way. She wasn't planning on giving it back.

Hedges and Dex had already stripped and gotten out, leaving briefly to collect blankets before coming back. It had been Sommerfield's decision that nobody could get dressed until the game was over.

"Since I can't see anybody, maybe I'll ask for a back massage if I win. It's been a long time since a naked man rubbed my back." Sommerfield had smiled wistfully and Dex had offered to do it even if she didn't win. That had earned him a laugh and a bright grin from the pretty scientist.

"Full house," Sommerfield said, laying her cards out on the table. King swore, tossing his cards back into the pile. Abigial simply laid them down and looked at Sommerfield expectantly.

"What do you guys got left?" she asked, feeling her piles of stash curiously.

"You can take my wrist blade." Abigail removed the long blade that was attached to her right-handed glove and handed it to Sommerfield. They both turned their faces in King's direction, who was looking a little cranky.

"Well, let me check," King said carefully, examining himself closely. Abigail had gotten his right boot, Dex had gotten his left, while Hedges had ended up with both of his socks. He picked at his shirt for a minute and sighed. "You can have my shirt."

Dex and Hedges whistled and hooted as King pulled his shirt off and slid it across the table to Sommerfield. Abigail smiled at the guys and took the opportunity to look King over. The bite marks and bruises that had covered most of his upper body were almost gone and his lean frame, already pretty muscular but very wiry, had filled out some. He was finally starting to look less like the war refuge she had brought home with her and more like a hunter. He caught her eyes on his body and winked at her. Abigail rolled her eyes and shuffled the cards.

"You cheating son of a bitch," Sommerfield swore at King in a not unkindly way as he announced his four of a kind. It was the fifth time since he'd lost his shirt that he'd won and Sommerfield, who hadn't been armed to the teeth was finally in danger of losing. Abigail had already been forced to sacrifice her shirt.

"I'm just starting to get the hang of this again," King protested with a wide grin, casually rubbing his back against his chair. He nodded to the girls. "Now pony up, ladies. Fair is fair."

Sommerfield, who had gone through her second necklace, watch, lab coat, and both shoes, hesitated a moment and then reached under the table, rising up a bit. The men sitting across from her leaned up a little to see, but she'd already sat back down before they got a glimpse of her removing the panties she threw in King's direction. He caught them with a wide smirk, nodding to the other guys.

"Come on, Whistler. Sommerfield's got the right idea." King leaned in Abigail's direction, propping his chin up on the upturned palm of his hand. He batted his eyelashes at her.

Abigail glared at the ex-vampire and wordlessly removed her pants. She slid her legs underneath her and sat up primly, as though she didn't mind sitting there in just her underwear. She aimed a glare in King's direction that had sent shivers running down the spines of young vampires. He didn't even flinch.

She should have left his sorry ass in that cage.

"Take that, King," Sommerfield said, laying down her royal flush. King stared down at his straight flush and slumped back in his seat.

Abigail, now in just her thong and sitting awkwardly to hide her breasts, whooped loudly at King's disappointed face.

"Come on, King. Let's see if you're a boxers or briefs guy," Abigail said with a smirk, mimicking his pose from earlier and fluttering her eyelashes provocatively. King faked a laugh and then flashed a genuine grin to the ladies.

"Well, usually I'm a boxers guy, but today I'm not." King unzipped his cargo pants and tossed them up onto the table. He stood up unconcernedly and Abigail blinked.

"I guess I'm out, ladies," King said and walked out to find another blanket. Abigail watched his exit as Sommerfield frowned. The blind doctor leaned close to her female compatriot and whispered, "So should I ask for the back massage?"

"Oh, yeah," Abigail said, still in shock. "You should make it a full-body massage."

Sommerfield sighed. "Sight is wasted on the celibate."

Dex and Hedges glowered at the giggling women and then looked at each other.

"We're playing Monopoly next time," Hedges said firmly.

"Copy that, bro," Dex agreed.

Then the two men turned their attentions back on the important task of watching a strip poker game that was down to two smoking hotwomen.

Sometimes it was good to be a Nightstalker.

End

Author's Notes: Yeah, I know, guys, I know. What the hell? You're asking yourselves, "Was there any purpose to this other than to get Ryan Reynolds completely naked" and I can only say, with all honesty, no. Naked Hannibal King was the only point. But come on, folks, he managed to lose his shirt twice in the movie, but he couldn't ditch the pants? Jessica Biel got naked! I'm just balancing a scale. Now scold me viciously. I deserve it.