Take the Long Way Home
Here it comes folks! The Poker Game!!! Points to silver, Flame32, and marie lebeau. Since you three were the first to answer, you all get a gold star and a ride on my muse, Draco! *Jerks a thumb at a very pissed looking silver dragon*. Unfortunately…there's only room for one person to ride on his back, and I could only get him too agree to one ride. (Hey, I'm an author, not a UN negotiator!) So one of you will ride on his head, one on his back, and…one will hang onto his tail for dear life. You may now commence the scramble for the safe spots to ride.
P.S. I don't really know that much about poker, so I'll probably get a few things wrong in this chapter. So tell me if anything's wrong and I'll try and fix it.
P.P.S. marie, I talk to myself too. It's the only way I can get any type of intelligent conversation at home. Just remember, talking to yourself doesn't mean you're crazy, answering yourself means you're crazy! ^_^
"AAA"-talking
'AAA'-thought
AAA-telepathy
AAA-self debate or conversation with "feral side" in Shawn and Rahne's case.
Disclaimer-Buttered Toast!
Chapter 8-The Game is on!
"Let's see… poker chips? Check. Potato chips? Check. Mass quantities of orange Slice and Mt. Dew? Check. Plastic cups? Check. Portable radio and CD's? Check. Said items hidden in a duffel bag off of Institute grounds, ready for pickup? Checkmate." Shawn mused to himself as he went over his mental checklist for tonight's game. Three days had passed without incident, both Shawn and Maria agreeing by silent consent not to mention the rooftop encounter to anyone, as long as you disregarded the little, teeny, tiny incident involving a garden hose being turned onto Scott and Jean when they were 'talking'. 'Man, Scott has some killer aim. If Jean hadn't been so mad that she couldn't really concentrate, I would have been in real trouble.' As it was, it had taken a few of his more advanced techniques and about half an hour to lose them. "I would have lost them sooner if a certain mental companion who shall remain nameless hadn't kept giving my position away to Jean." Shawn grumbled. Heh, just a little payback for yelling at me Bahumut chuckled. I wasn't even the one who did it! It was Bobby! I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time! Shawn lamented, before returning to his planning.
Shawn had already gotten permission for his "run" from Logan after he had explained it was part of his training regimen. The instructor fell for it; hook, line, and sinker. Apparently he was a sucker for anything if he thought you were really trying to improve your fighting abilities. Now the hard part was to make sure that he made it back to the Institute before they sent out a search party. Other than that, the evening looked like it would be problem free. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?
So, why did he have the feeling he should take his Bo with him?
It was about six thirty, and he had told the others to meet at the shack at seven. "Better get my tail in gear," he thought, with more than a little irony. He had been doing that a lot lately. He slipped out of his room, and headed towards the front door, going by way of the girls wing. As he passed Maria and Co.'s room, he overheard Kitty talking to some of the other girls. Being the nosy guy he was, he stopped for a moment to see what was up.
"I, like, miss him so much, y'know?" 'Ahhh, complaining about breaking up with Lance. Again.' Shawn settled himself where he wouldn't be immediately spotted by anyone either coming or going down the hall, but could still hear the conversation. 'Maybe I'll find something out that can help Lance get her back.' One of Shawn's more redeeming qualities was the fact that, once he considered someone a friend, he would hack his right arm off for them.
"So why don't you apologize and get back with him?" This was Amara. 'Her royal hineyness' when she got bratty. However, he had learned not to call her it to her face, as he was only partially fireproof.
"Yeah, I'm sure if he really loves you, he'd take you back no matter what." This was Jubilee, or "Jube-jube", as Shawn had affectionately dubbed her.
"It's, like, not that simple. Whenever I really feel like asking him to forgive me, either Jean or Scott talks me out of it." There was an excited muttering, most of it along the lines of "no way" and "that jerk". As soon as the mutters died, Kitty spoke again. "I'm sure they, like, think it's for my own good, but I really, really miss Lance."
As the subject turned from just Kitty's boy problems to the problems with men in general that teenage girls seem so prone to discuss, Shawn took his leave, thinking furiously as he went. 'So Scott and Jean think the Lance man ain't good enough for Kitty, huh? Maybe they should just let those two alone and let them decide for themselves.' You're going to meddle, aren't you? Bahumut groaned. Is that a rhetorical question? Shawn's mental tone was the equivalent of a broad smirk. Just make sure you know what you're doing. If you mess up, it may permanently screw them over in the love department. So think twice before you act, K? Don't I always? I won't even touch that one Their conversation got absolutely nowhere after that.
Shawn had arrived about ten minutes before the others, and started setting up for the game. The table and chairs were all in fairly good condition and the shack itself was nice and cozy. It was also big enough for most of the male population of the Institute to hide in if Kitty was ever trying to get people to eat her cooking again. Shawn had nearly tried one of her muffins before Kurt had 'accidentally' knocked it out of his hands and into the floor. Yeah, that's right, into the floor. Shawn still got a toothache from thinking about what would have happened if he had bitten into that thing. He shuddered and continued to stack the betting chips into equal piles. Outside, he heard a jeep pull up. "Lance, right on time," he walked over to the door.
Then there came a double shout of "YOU!!!" One of the shouters had a distinctly southern accent. "This does not bode well," Shawn muttered, as a slight tremor rocked the shack.
He opened the door, and looked out on utter chaos. Gambit was there, along with what appeared to be a walking suit of armor. They were trying to keep their feet, while Lance sent tremor after tremor to knock them down. Gambit had a card in one hand, waiting for a clear shot so he could charge and throw it. Shawn took this in while calmly leaning against the doorframe. When none of them noticed him, he decided to take action before this got out of hand.
"HOLD IT!!!!!!!!"
That got their attention. Lance raised his head as the tremors died down; Gambit stopped charging the card in his hand and returned it to a pocket in his duster, and the big metal guy reabsorbed his armor into his skin. 'Must be the fourth player Gambit mentioned.' Shawn thought as he sauntered up to the former combatants. "I take it you guys know each other?" he asked in a mild voice as Lance glared daggers at the Cajun.
"Oui, Gambit know de Avalanche. We be unnner de same boss. T'aint that righ mon 'ami?" Lance just snarled at the Cajun, before turning to face Shawn.
"Please tell me these aren't the other players?"
"I don't make a habit of lying to my friends Lance. Besides, I don't see the problem. Believe it or not, you both have at least three things in common." Lance just stared, so the other boy counted them off on his fingers. "First is your respective situations regarding girls, next is your dislike of this Magneto dude," he ticked the first two off on his, then paused. "The third thing is the little fact that I consider you both to be friends of mine. And I don't like to see my friends fighting each other, so I'm officially making the area in a hundred and fifty yard radius a fight-free zone. And if anyone starts cracking heads, it's gonna be me."
Lance and Gambit both stared at him as they digested this info. They both knew, deep down, that he would carry out the threat, or at least try to. Suddenly he began to smile, his persona doing an abrupt 180. "I don't think we've been introduced, my large friend." He stuck a hand out in the direction of the large boy. "The name's Shawn O'Reily, the self made master of disaster." The other's hand enveloped his own, and Shawn got the impression of a huge, but carefully controlled, strength.
A slight smile crossed the larger man's face at the ridiculous title. "I am Piotr Rasputin. They also call me the Colossus." He gestured at the other two, who were glaring daggers at each other. Gambit was fingering an Ace of spades in his left hand. "It vill be difficult to play poker if the two of them refuse to speak to each other."
Shawn sighed. "Alright you two idiots, I'll tell you what. I'll give you each two extra hundred dollar chips, if you two agree to play nice." He glanced at them, "Deal?"
The two considered it, glanced at each other, considered it a bit more, and nodded. "Deal," they chorused. The group went into the shack, closing the door behind them. "Hey I see snacks and stuff, but where's the cards?" Lance inquired. Shawn looked to the Cajun. "Gambit?" he said in an expectant tone. The thief reached into his duster and produced a sealed pack of Bicycle playing cards. "Les play some cards," he grinned.
And so the game began. Everyone grabbed a drink and some chips, and settled at the table. The seating from left to right was; Piotr, Lance, Shawn, and Gambit. Shawn was dealer. He began to shuffle the cards at a pace that strained even Gambit's keen vision to keep track of them. After a few moments of shuffling, he began to deal. "Alrighty boys, the name of the game is straight poker, fours wild." A slim-jim he was chewing on made it look, and sound, as if he had a cigar in his mouth, and he had produced one of those green dealers' visors from his duffel bag to complete the ensemble. All in all, he looked almost like Klinger from MASH during one of the camp poker games.
"Dealer starts the bets at twenty." Shawn threw a blue chip into the center of the table. He looked at the others for a moment. "Hey guys, it okay if I put in some tunes?" The others nodded their assent, so he leaned back in his chair, and stuck an "Astro Lounge" CD into the player. After a few seconds, "All Star" was playing fairly loudly, but not loud enough to break the concentration of the other players. Lance began to nod his head to the music, while Gambit tapped his foot and Piotr drummed his fingers.
"Remy'll see your tweny an raise you tweny." He paused for a moment, then looked over to Shawn. "So how you getting long wit de new femme at de institute?" There was a knowing glint in his eye as he spoke.
Shawn nearly sprayed the pop he had been drinking over the table at the question, but managed to swallow, forcing a coughing fit. Piotr gave him a light slap on the back to help him clear his airway. "Cough… what… cough… are you …cough… talking …cough … about?" he finally croaked.
"Remy saw you an de Wolvie femme stargazing las night afore he turned in."
Lance chuckled. "And what were you doing there, Rouge-gazing?"
"Oui," Remy's face was perfectly straight when he replied. Lance and Shawn both started laughing at this. Even Piotr cracked a large smile. The light tension that had been hanging in the room dissolved at this. Gambit looked back at his cards, and smiled. "Les jus keep the game going, no?" The others turned their attentions back to their respective hands. They continued to place bets and trade banter for about ten minutes before Lance folded. Five minutes after that, Piotr folded as well. Gambit made one final bet, then Shawn called. The thief displayed his cards with a flourish. "Straight!" he practically crowed. "Top dat!"
Shawn's answer was to lay out his own hand and simply say, "Royal Flush". His hand had the Ace and Jack of diamonds, and three fours. Remy shook his head. "Non mon'ami, dat be tre of a kind, less fours wild."
Lance and Piotr both grinned. "Da, fours vere vild comrade," the Russian rumbled. Gambit smacked his hand into his forehead as Shawn reeled in the pot, a grin plastered over his face. "Remy'll get you nex hand, jus you wait," he gave a friendly smile as he said it. (I know, Gambit's a little OOC, but this is as good as I can write it. *Cowers in fear from hoard of glowering purist Remy fans [fans against him being OOC]* Please, have mercy!)
They continued on with the game, switching dealers occasionally, while Shawn changed out the CDs whenever they got tired of what was currently playing. They began to notice little quirks in their opponent's behavior that led to more interesting play, such as the fact that Piotr's pinkie would twitch when he had a bad hand, or when Lance would start humming along to the song when he had a good hand. Gambit's poker face was nearly perfect, except that he narrowed his eyes just a little when he had a hand he didn't like. Shawn's poker face was a blank mask, but if he had a really, really good hand, his pupils tended to turn reptilian. Naturally, this kinda freaked Lance out a little when he saw them change. But he dealt with it in a calm, sensible manner.
"GEEZE! What happened to your eyes?" Or not.
Shawn looked up from his Straight Flush, a puzzled look on his face. "What are you talking...?" Lance pointed to an old mirror that had survived through the years in the old shack. Shawn looked, as surprised as Lance to see the shape his eyes had taken, but he shook it off fast.
"Oh. Must be another part of my mutation," He glanced around the table, then launched into an explanation. "My mutation gives me the ability to grow bat-like wings, a lizard-y tail, scales, claws and fangs, and to spit fireballs if I get really mad. And Beast says that I'm only partially tapping into my powers, so I'm almost afraid to guess what'll happen when I manage to fully tap into my abilities."
All of the others seemed fairly impressed with his repertoire of powers. "Remy tinks dat mebbe you become a dragon, no?" Gambit voiced the thought that was in everyone's mind. The other two nodded, Piotr giving a hearty "Da", to emphasize the point. Shawn nodded, "Maybe," he said. After that, the game continued, for about an hour before Shawn was distracted. He gave a yelp as a watch alarm began to sound.
"OH S**T!! That's my early warning system! I gotta get back to the Institute, NOW!" He pushed away from the table, getting his things together. He looked up from the task as the other three got up and began to file out the door. "Hey guys!" They stopped. "Same time next week?" Lance gave a thumbs up, but Gambit looked pensive.
"Remy an Colossus'll have to see what be going on at de base. If we can, den Remy'll tell you. If not, den Remy get word to ya." Shawn looked at him for a moment.
"Has anyone ever told you that that speaking in third person thing is really annoying?"
Gambit chuckled. "Oui, but it make de femme's go wild." Shawn took off laughing, tossing a "see ya later!" over his shoulder.
After he hid the duffel bag for future pickup; he trotted up to the front doors of the Institute. He gulped when he saw Wolverine standing there smoking a cigar. Shaking slightly, he swallowed the bout of nerves and walked past in a leisurely manner. Logan just stood there, then after Shawn had passed him, called over his shoulder, "Get some sleep tonight kid, you're getting up at seven an joining the rest of the pups for a Danger Room session."
Shawn turned, a look of surprise on his face. "But tomorrow's Friday. And I thought that I wasn't ready for Danger Room sessions yet."
Logan flicked some ash from his cigar before answering. "The school's having some sort of teacher's conference, so the other runts got the day off. And you've gotten a lot better at controlling your powers." He gave a malicious grin, "I think that you'll want to get a lot of rest. You're gonna need it!"
Shawn continued into the house, looking like he had just been handed a death sentence. He knew what happened in the DR. Scott and Kurt had shown him tapes of some of the torture sessions that Wolverine liked to concoct for the students. Tomorrow was not going to be fun.
He was so preoccupied, that he missed Maria watching him from one of the couches. She giggled at the look on his face, then stopped in shock. 'Where did that come from?' She looked back at Shawn, who had gone into the rec room in search of someone to take his aggravations out on by whipping their butt at some game or another. 'What is it about him that makes me act like that? When I'm around him, I can act as if H.Y.D.R.A. was just a horrible dream. Why?' No one answered her silent question, so she shrugged it off and returned to the book Ray had leant her. Who knew he had a thing for action fantasy? She had gotten caught up in the "DemonTech" story line, and couldn't wait to see how the second book ended.
Up in his office, Xavier sat back and listened as Logan told him some slightly disturbing news. "I'm telling ya Chuck, I smelt Lance, the Cajun, and Colossus on 'em. He met with them for some reason." His voice turned a little worried. "Ya think Mystique and Magneto are trying to recruit him?"
Xavier smiled and shook his head. "I sincerely doubt that Mr. O'Reily wishes to leave the Institute. He has an 'obligation' here."
"You mean Maria?"
"Precisely. I don't believe he would leave her. He seems to have grown quite attached to the young lady." Logan growled at that.
"If he tries anything with her, I'll flay him alive."
"Calm down old friend, I was merely making an observation. He doesn't strike me as the type of boy who would try anything…, shall we say, untoward. Besides, I believe Maria is more than capable of taking care of herself."
Logan sighed. "I know Charles, but I can't help but feel responsible for her. It's my fault that she went through what she did. Hell, it's even my fault that she even exists. That makes me feel like she's well…"
"Family?" the professor provided.
"Yeah, like family." Logan sighed once more, then returned to the matter at hand. "So what do we do about this little 'situation'?"
The professor looked out the window for a moment before replying, "Nothing. I believe that he may actually be doing us a service, possibly making friends with the three of them. This means that they may stop attacking the X-men, or at least give us warning of activities that could seriously harm the students. We already know that Gambit never tells Magneto anything of importance during his 'surveillance missions' and Lance never really wanted to hurt anyone, so I'm inclined to just trust Shawn's sense of judgment and let it slide." He chuckled for a moment, "Would you believe that the four of them were playing cards? Mr. O'Reily's thoughts are currently going over a rather ingenious bluff that Lance pulled."
---To be continued---
Well, there's the poker game. If it wasn't exactly what you were expecting, well that's your problem, not mine. So, the Professor and Logan know about the game. How will the students react if they ever find out? Find out later. Next time, Shawn may get in over his head during the DR session. See what happens next, but till then, Read & Review!
*Draco walks in, rubbing a towel over his head, and grumbling* What happened to you? "One of those reviewers got airsick! That silver dude puked all over my HEAD!"