Hi everyone !

I'm back for another random OS :p !

This time, the characters are Twisted Fate and Graves ! Some alcohol is involved, Graves curses a tiny bit and there some implied TfxGraves, so be cautious and read at your own risk !

Feel free to leave reviews, commentary or corrections (this text is unbeta'd) !

Please enjoy !

Rum and regrets

'Hello, Mister Fate.'

'Hey, isn't it Summoner Alicia ? How are you today, sweet lady ?'

'Very well thank you. I wanted to ask you if you were busy tonight ?'

'If you need me by your side, then be assured I'm not !'

'It's not a date, mind you, Mister Fate.' she answered with a giggle. 'Alric and I want to celebrate our graduation as full-time summoners, so we wanted to invite the champion with whom we trained the most.'

'Well, I'm disappointed. But I will come, because you will be there.'

'Thank you, Mister Fate.'

I knew that Alric liked the company of champions who needed assistance in the south-eastern corner of Summoner's Rift. I heard he could coordinate very well with Ashe. In hindsight, it didn't mean she was the one he had trained the more with so I shouldn't have been surprised. I would even have preferred seeing Caitlyn. She was running after me for some mystery about a bandit leaving cards on crime scene. I tried to help her once or twice, because I understood she could make a connexion, but any further questioning ended up with me teleporting away. I couldn't be the only gambler in Valoran, could I ? But instead, I found an callous conman with his red cape, blue shirt, dark brown leather bell-bottoms and matching cowboy boots. Oddly, the double-barreled shotgun he wished he had in hand just so he could tear my head off my shoulders was missing. Malcolm Graves.

We stayed quiet behind our respective summoners, but his eyes were trying to burn a hole in my head. Alicia noticed the tension and asked lowly if everything was alright. I nodded and we got in first. Through my hair, on my neck, I still felt the gunman gaze as I walked in. I took the stool on Alicia's left, as Alric took her right and Malcolm took his. Being a summoner and a League champion made one limit the use of all substances influencing the mind, thus why the bars around the Institute rarely sold alcohol. Or so was written in the League texts anyway. Many summoners and champions actually indulged in a few drinks every once in a while, and with a little more cash, bartender usually found a good bottle of liquor in the counter. Apparently, Graves was a regular and knew the prices by heart. He didn't even try to hide his glass to the summoner's eyes, while I, for a change, obeyed the rules and asked for a soft drink. I chatted with Alicia and Alric while Malcolm stayed at bay, sipping on what looked like whiskey. Typical, one might say. Except he was more into amber rum. I learned it a few months ago when he stormed out of my place after another successful swindle because he had enough of my vodka.

The two summoners engaged in a heated conversation and minutes suddenly seemed to stretch. I turned around, looked around at the other clients. Unsurprisingly, they all wore purple and gold robes from shoulders to toes. Of course, the fabric looked very soft, comfortable, and that purple was vibrant and pleasing to the eye, but it made the woman look as flat as boards. I groaned in disappointment and faced the counter once again. Despite the varnish, the wood kept its mahogany color. A suitable surface to start a game of Klondike. I took one of my deck in my jacket inner pocket, sorted and arranged the cards. The counter wasn't wide enough to play with full suits and more than two sets, but spades and diamond from King to seven would be more than enough. I started over several times because I met dead-ends. I was all out of luck tonight. But as I played, I realized I would really like to meet the manual worker who crafted that counter, because some of my furniture definitely needed some renovating. The bar, for example. I believe I still had that bottle of rum at home. I tried to picture precisely where it could be, but my musings were interrupted by a young man voice.

'Mister Fate, can we switch stools ? You seem bored and maybe Mister Graves would be a better interlocutor.'

He noticed my hesitation. He didn't know. Neither of them knew, because only high-ranking summoners knew. I took a good look at my former comrade. He was slouched over the counter, his index tracing out the top of his glass. Time must have flown much more quicker than I thought. Malcolm was a wistful drunk. Maybe they weren't the funniest to be with, but I preferred that to an aggressive one. He was nigh harmless in his current state, so I agreed to Alric's request, ordered mycards and switched stools. Malcolm didn't even seem to notice. Inside, I was grateful, because he had a really good right hook. I touched my jaw, lost in thoughts. It still tingled, sometimes.

'Thought you had forgiven me for that punch, Fate.'

'I did. Good old times...'

'He is hitting on her, isn't he ?'

'Are you jealous ?'

'Nah, just wondering if all summoners pair up naturally. I mean, is it a rule or something ?'

'I don't think so, but they must spend most of their time together in the Institute, so I guess it helps.'

He groaned. It was the closest thing he could muster to a "you're right". He hated being outsmarted, and it wasn't that hard when he was drunk. It made me smile. I knew him better than anyone. He was my family. Sober, he wouldn't even have allowed me to think that. Drunk, he noticed the sad smile instead. He pushed his glass towards me slowly.

'Get some, I'm done with it.' Graves kept his glassy eyes focused on the gambler. 'Bottoms up ? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say something is wrong. Care to tell me ?'

'I'm getting nostalgic.'

'Get a hold of yourself, Fate.' He lightly punched him in the shoulder. 'I'm supposed to be the remorseful one of us. You are the restless one, always seeking new cons when we were just done with one.'

I used to be insatiable, always willing to gain more. I betrayed, left behind, killed. Malcolm brought me an uncanny stability. His laid back attitude, savoring our successes, his advices to keep a low profile for some time so we won't be suspected right of the bat contrasted and completed my methods. We soon became unstoppable. Up until the point I was tempted with something even your influence hadn't tamed : my desire for magic. At this very moment, nothing mattered more than Prigg's offer. I expected you to hold a grudge against me, as all the others did. I however never expected it to be so personal. We had reached a point where we believed we wouldn't double-cross each other. Under any other circumstances but this one, I wouldn't have. For the following days, I enjoyed what I acquired. And only a long while later did I regretted what I traded it for. Our hideout seemed empty when I got back to it, sometimes. Even rigged card game seemed pointless. So I joined the League. The matches were entertaining. And you joined the League too. I was back to square one when we first met on the field. And to be honest, thinking about the past and seeing you drunk right next to me was slowly walking me back to square one once again. And unknowingly, you dealt the final blow.

'Come on, Jack. Time to get back home.'

My mind kept replaying the sentence over and over. I scarcely heard my first name and for a split second, I wondered if it was really to me he was talking. And "home" ? Where was that ? The Institute ? It had to be the Institute.

'Alicia, we're... Where is she ?' asked Twisted Fate when he did see her.

'They left five minutes ago, Fate. Focus !'

He instantly got up, and though he was a little wobbly, he managed the reach the door without difficulties. I went through it just in time to provide support as he began to tumble on the street. His left arm naturally draped around my shoulders as I came to his side. I did the same across his back and we began walking towards the Institute. It lasted five minutes and I thought he would start driveling.

'Hey, Fate. Why are we walking to the Institute ?'

'Because it is the place where we live most of the time ?'

'Nah, not that, cowboy. Why are we walking there ? You're always jumping around in the fields.'

'Well, I guess I can try to port us to my room. But you'll have to walk the remaining distance to yours.'

I took out a card adorned with a flame pattern and focused on our destination. The cards appeared as usual beneath my feet. I felt Malcolm grip on my shoulder tighten as we seemingly fell through the ground. I was used to it, but I never had a passenger with me. And I had been too thrilled the first time to be afraid. Our feet met the floor again and I waited several seconds for Malcolm's reaction. He let go of me and I heard him shuffling afterwards. With a flick of the wrist, the card I saved produced a small flame. I lit up the room around us, but Malcolm didn't care about that. He simply wanted to see my face enough to throw my hat away and glare at me. He wanted to do something, though I didn't know what. It worried me. He then angrily spat :

'Damn you for looking like a girl when I'm smashed.'

He turned around and somehow made his way to the door without hitting anything, at a steady pace. I assumed he would find his way back to his room safely, so I put out the flame and plopped down on my bed. That was why even as accomplices we never got drunk at the same time. It happened once, and it had been enough to leave an imprint in our minds. I touched my lips, lost in thought. It still tingled, sometimes.