Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Sex, Substances, Sin, Salvation ❯ II - C - Bad Habits - Heero's - Gambling ( Chapter 11 )

Sex, Substances, Sin, Salvation - a GW fanfiction manifested via madness

By Masamune Reforged

WhenShootingStarsFall.com

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters, they are the property of Bandai, Sunrise or someone else, but not me. I use them for no-profit whatsoever, but for entertainment's gain.

Warnings: Yaoi (lots of pairings, though primarily 1x2 and 3x4, graphic lemons in some parts, but nothing more than shounen-ai for right now) cursing, drug use, violence, angst, insanity, cameos, AU, lunacy, sanity.

 

Part C of Act II, “Wonder Whats Next” in the s4 arc.

“Bad Habits - Heero's - Gambling”

Heero's POV

 

I was big blind.

 

I go in two blue chips, $100. I have only seven red chips, $20 a piece, and one blue chip remaining. Blues are worth $50. The white chips, worth $1, have all been traded in. At this late stage of the game they're more of a nuisance to count than anything else. If you're playing now, you're playing each hand for $100, minimum.

 

The two remaining players hungrily eye my small stack of chips. They're about even with one another. I'm the runt on the table, and was just forced to play a hand. They're both looking to take me out, not leave me hanging around where I can hurt their chances.

 

The game is Texas Hold'Em. Each player gets two cards, face down. Bets are made, starting with the big blind (that was me) placing the smallest wager possible ($100 at this point in the game). Then the Flop, the first three cards are brought out, face up. Bets again. The Turn, a fourth card is added, face up. Bets again. The River, the fifth and final up card. Last bets. The person who can make the best 5-card poker hand out of the Up cards and his/her own two wins the pot for that hand. Rinse, repeat. Simple, right?

 

I love poker. It is war meets Monopoly, except the money is real and your opponent can't see where you've got Hotels, Houses or anything. Deception is encouraged. This is what I do on a Friday night when I don't have someone to kill, which I also enjoy.

 

Both opponents throw in $100. They wait for me to Check (not bet and continue), or Raise the bet. With the meager amount of chips I have left, the only way I can continue and not reveal my hand is by Checking. A Raise would be too bold.

 

What are my cards? Haha, like I'd give that away...

 

I knock on the felt table, the signal for checking. The dealer burns a card and is about to unveil the Flop.

 

The thing about poker that gets me going, that makes my blood boil, is the mortality. In bullets and explosives I am like a god, like Jack sitting across from me is a god at smuggling, and King, well I really don't know what King does. But it doesn't matter. At the poker table everyone is equal. A peasant can beat a chancellor, a fool could outplay Einstein. We all enter the room, hanging up our business with our coats, losing any identity. We all throw in the same amount of money. Tonight, as every night, any of us might walk away with the money, and, more importantly, the glory.

 

A 3 of Spades, a 9 of Spades, a King of Hearts. The Flop.

 

The cards are God for poker players. You're just randomly handed the lot cast to you.

 

“I'll check,” King, the first to bet, says. It is my turn.

 

The rest is up to the player.

 

I believe King is trying to bait me into staying in this hand. He might have a Spade, giving him the prospective Flush chance, or some combination of high cards towards a Straight. He might have two cards that are already out there, or he might have two cards of the same kind hidden in his hand. He might have nothing.

 

“I'll check,” I say softly. I decide it's best to also act as if I have nothing.

 

It is Jack's turn. Jack is touching his chips. It's a Tell, a player's habit that surfaces in certain situations. Jack's Tell is touching his chips. It means he wants to bet. It means he has something.

 

Then Jack grins, a universal Tell that the next thing he is about to do is a lie in some shape or form. “I'll check.” He shrugs, comically disheartened. King chuckles; he sees it too.

 

Poker is a war of wits. All physical aspects of the game have some sort of downside to them, some sort of taboo or wrinkle in them. Always holding your cards in your hand is taboo, reeking of an attempt at cheating. Facial expressions, smiles, frowns, mouths opening, biting the lip are all give aways of what the player is thinking. A good one will start reading an opponent's facial expressions like a book. Touching your chips is a Tell. Checking one's cards indicates a poor memory and excitement at the recently emerged cards. Your eyes betray you constantly. Touching another person's chips can get you killed.

 

The Turn is a Queen of Spades. If any player has two Spades in their hand, they now have a Flush. I don't have a Flush, I'll tell you that much.

 

“$100,” King bets. He's hard to read. He didn't bet at the two initial Spades... why bet now?

 

“I call.” I throw in $100. I only have $90 left, not even enough to make an independent bet next turn.

 

“I'll put you All-In.” Jack jumps at it, pushing in $190, to call the initial bet and make me bet everything.

 

“I'm still playing too, ya know,” King reminds him, adding $90 of his own.

 

I have to go All-In. I wouldn't be allowed to play the next game with less than $100, the big blind. My hand has been forced... or so I let them think. Grudgingly, I put in the last of my chips. All that's left in front of me are my two cards, face down. I'm still not telling you what I have.

 

It is time for the last card, the River. I've seen fortunes made, carefully laid plans destroyed, and infinite tears, sweat and blood shed over the River card. It can change the game, just like that. You might be sure, be absolutely 100% sure that you know you're going to win, and then a River card comes out that turns your world upside down. In a poker game it is the final act of God.

 

God selects a 4 of Clubs. Quite anti-climactic.

 

Now comes the most interesting part of the game. All the players now know what they have. There's no more hope, no more prayers, only cold hard facts. If you don't have shit at this point, you're one crazy and/or ballsy motherfucker to continue bluffing. The only thing left to speculate on is what everyone else might have.

 

“Raise you $500.” King smiles at Jack. He's confident he has this hand in the bag.

 

“...fuck you,” Jack spits. Jack isn't ballsy or crazy. That makes him about mediocre right now. “I fold.”

 

“How bout you kid?” King asks me. “What you got?”

 

I flip my two cards. Jack whistles. Two Aces, one a Spade, the other a Heart. That's considered the absolute best hand God could ever give you to start a poker game.

 

King shakes his head, breathing out. It's like taking that first breath after the roller coaster comes to a halt. “Sorry kid,” he says, flipping. “I got 3-of-a-kind.”

 

He does, he has three 3s.

 

“Good game,” I say honestly, getting up and stretching. My armpits are rank with the odor of perspiration. It's two in the morning. I have to assist in a kidnapping at 7:30. It won't be half as fun as a game of poker. I sigh.

 

I leave the building. The streets are deserted, a soft drizzle the only noise. Then a siren starts up.

 

I go to a 24-7 store and buy some Lotto tickets. I've never won, but I do love to play...

 

-end Bad Habits - Heero's - Gambling.

Part C of Page II in the “Sex Substances Sin Salvation” arc.

 

Next: Press conference: Robert Darlian promises to crack down on crime!

 

ID Notes:

King and Jack are just made up, obviously named after the cards. They won't appear again.