20367/A Night at the Roguesbury

A Night at the Roguesbury
Date of Scene:	04 April 2025
Location:	Recreation Room
Synopsis:	Rogue and Remy do what Rogue and Remy do.
Cast of Characters:	Rogue, Remy LeBeau

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Rogue has posed:
The recreation room was an ever enjoyable place to end one's evening or day at the school. Save for all the kids, of course. As luck would have it though, most of the student body wasn't in here at the moment, as they were in the main student dining hall having a movie night hosted by some of the seniors. this left the faculty to have some time to themselves, and because of it, Rogue was in here, and she was standing beside the counter and the small kitchen area. With her phone on the counter top, and a video playing upon it, the southern belle was nursing a drink she'd prepared herself.

Still dressed in her teacherly attire of a sweater - button up - blue jeans and boots, the Belle wore a pair of dark gloves, and her hair was loose around her shoulders. She lowered her drink down atop the granite counter, and turned to retrieve a pack of preetzels from a box of them, resting on the counter behind her, beside the fridge.

Crinkle crinkle, the bag was opened up, and a pair of fingers dipped in to retrieve a salty treat.

As people laughed at some joke on her phone's screen, Rogue looked back at it, popped the pretzel between her lips, and crunched upon it.

Of note, something unusual upon her person? She wore a pair of black dog tags with her name engraved in the dark metal, dangling between the top two open buttons of her sweater.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy didn't always skulk around the brounds trying to stay out of sight, but he did sometimes. Old memories, maybe? They sometimes flood back up. Routine, perhaps. He's not always sure where they come from or why, but it's always clear when they do. He starts making himself scarce. Even if he's there, because he's always there, it's not out front in view where most people would expect him.

It helps that he's not actually faculty.

Whether it's because they don't trust him to teach students or because he's not reliable to stay consistent. Doesn't matter.

He's wearing slacks and a t-shirt as he comes into the Rec room. With his hair loose, shaggy and unkept as always, with his hands in his pockets and a skip in his step. Hop skip, even, as he comes near to the counter where Rogue is nursing her beverage. "Dat an adult beverage I see you nursing, dere chere?" He reaches out for it, the other elbow resting against the counter with his body turned to face her. Glass up to sniff, "What dis is, huh? Better be top shelf... and don't you go telling Remy you drinking just orange juice, I don't buy dat none at all."

Red on black eyes flick up and down over her 'teacher attire'. Glass held back out to her. "Where da better half?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue knew when Remy LeBeau entered the room without even having to look over. She could just tell it was him by the sounds he made while moving, and the general atmosphere change to the ambience. She smiled in a reserved way, as he spoke of her drink. She nodded her head in affirmation of it being an adult beverage, one cut with orange juice, since OJ was always on hand in this house. Her right hand went over to her little leather bag, and she produced a silver flask from it, that she set down beside it on the polished counter. "Just one," she said softly, before smirking at him. "It's just a pre weekend kinda treat..." She said in a soft voice, her general demeanor seeming calm, and soft. Relaxed, even.

Her head shook at his question of some other half, and her shoulders shrugged inside her dark green teacher sweater. "Who knows." She stated simply, before smiling again. "You look half well dressed, where you been? Or where ya headed?" She asked him, as she let him take a taste of her drink, should he so desire.

"They're watchin' some Terminator movie in the student hall, but I'd rather a bit'a quiet, than just more guns and murderous machines in my life..."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
It's an odd sort of answer that Remy always expected Rogue would have to say about him. Which strikes him, just then. Hits kind of hard too, as he sets her glass back down beside her arm and reaches instead for the flask. First to give it a sniff, then to pour a little in a glass he retrieves from behind the counter. Just a fingers worth, splashing it with oj. A little color.

Swirl.

Red eyes shift sidelong at her, half grin curling the corners of a smooth shaved jaw... for a change. "Job interview." He's probably not telling the truth. "I here blockbuster looking for experienced workers. Last one dey say." Behind a sip of his freshly swirled beverage. Just enough to wet the back of his tongue.

"I hear.." With his hand free, he points at his ear then points outward at the wall in the direction of the dining hall where the kids are watching a movie. "I stop by dere first." With it said, his hand drops down to his side, weight down on his elbow resting atop the counter.

"Tings okay?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue watched him return her drink, and pour himself a shots worth in his own glass. She took hold of her own, and turned to face him, while leaning against the counter on her right hip. One arm crossed over her stomach, and the other propped her drink up in front of her, elbow belt, and the rim hovering just a bit from her chin. She glanced toward the foyer and the halls beyond it, before she looked back his way.

"Blockbuster, huh?" She asked. "I remember goin' to one'a those with my mom an' dad, not long before I lost'em. I remember tryin' to get them ta rent a Men in Black movie, but they thought it was too violent for me. Too many guns on the cover picture..." She grinned.

Her words were chased by a sip from her drink, followed by a shake of her head.

"I'm alright, though... Just got a buncha class work t'do, once I get back upstairs. Gotta read all their poetry assignments, an' scribble my thoughts on to each one... But? I kinda like that part..."

She set her drink down, and reached for a pretzel, before she bumped the cap of the orange juice bottle on the floor. Muttering under her breath, Rogue crouched to pick it up, the jingling of those weird black dogtags could be heard, as she leaned forward, swiped the lid up, and moved to rise again.

"So you gonna get us a deal on DVD rentals?" She chided him.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"If dat what you want, oy." Remy held his drink aloft, right at the level of Rogue's, and reached it out to tap the bottom rem against hers. Clank. Red eyes watched her, not in any weird way, but there are few people who knew the belle the way he did. Maybe one? Maybe a few who thought they did... a handful who were wrong, definitely.

He drains the glass and sets it empty back down on the counter when she bends to pick up the cap. Weight on his elbow, hand crossed over his forearm, and head tilting to one side as she rises. "It da only ting Remy got job experience for, working blockbuster. 'Cept I don't know popculture or movies dat good. Don't know nothing about DVDs I don't steal. Even less about commerce." His grin only widens as he watches her.

"Maybe dis job interview go way worse I tink it will huh?"

Quiet. Considering.

Rogue has posed:
The little oven to Remy's left dinged, as whatever was inside it was done cooking. Rogue set her drink down, and recapped the OJ bottle, before she smirked at him, and stepped over to the counter beside him. "Is the Professah not payin' you enough? I thought the security gig was a good paycheck?" She asked, as she crouched to open the oven, and reached for a oven mitt from the stack she had laid out. She could have just pulled the wire rack right out of the thing, her durability high enough to stand it, but she liked to play by the rules of these kind of games. Utilizing the mitt, Rogue pulled the rack out, and revealed a chicken pot pie, that was now crispy golden hued on top, and casting off a delicious scent to the kitchen area. She gathered it up and closed the oven with a thud.

"You hungry?" She asked him. "Wanna split this with me?"

She had a couple bowls in hand, as she set the pie down on the oven top, and began dishing it from its pot and in to the bowl.

"Do you need any references for your job huntin then? I'd be happy ta sign somewhere. Who wouldn't want the reference of a poetry teacher from a Westchester boardin' school?" She questioned with a smirk, as she raised up a forkful of pot pie and flew it slowly toward his mouth....

Remy LeBeau has posed:
The fact Rogue reaches for the oven mitts is amusing, but Remy certainly understands. There's a lot of things they do for the sake of the kids, who look up to them whether they want to acknowledge it or not, and will emulate the actions of the adults in the room. Still, the whole display is funny, in an abstract kind of way. Like a Picaso with the nose crooked.

His fingers lace together, weight resting on his elbow resting on the counter as Rogue works the pot pie out of the oven. "He do, it's fine. Ain't really bout a paycheck for me... never been. Remy need money he get it, you know dat. It about.. I don't know... some'ting. Maybe I just try to be a better role model? No job history. Hard to tell dem kids, 'dis how you get better at life' if you not willing do it yourself, non?" His shoulder bounces.

"I wont slack on my duties here. But I also don't really tink I be getting job at Blockbuster neither. Only one. I tink they looking for younger than me, c'est pa? Sal'right." His hand flicks and his head nods. "I help you with dat pie though." Finger taps down on the counter, "Two fork. We don't need no plate. Better out of the pan anyways. Dat what my momma always say... at least if I knew my momma, I imagine she say dat."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue dropped the fork back in to the glass dish she had cooked the pie in. "Fair enough..." She said in a soft voice, before she slid the bowls away, and grabbed another fork. "come on, then, Sugah." She told him.

Having turned, she snagged her drink, and the pretzels, and made her way around the counter toward the table and chairs. There were two tables in here right now, and each one had four chairs around it. She pulled one chair out with a boot tip, and swept her body around it to settle in on it. These were thoe fancy tall kind of chairs, so one didn't feel like they were sitting on the floor, and with LED candles on them, they were flickering with an ambient light that gave a simulated fiery subtle charm.

Rogue looked to the Cajun, and set the pot pie dish between their chosen places.

"Did I tell ya about these?" She asked, motioning toward the dogtags hanging over her chest, just barely visible above her partially unbuttoned sweater.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
It's with a rare show over gentlemanliness that Remy steps up to push Rogue's chair in for her once she's settled into it. Did she need him to do that? No she did not. He's not silly.. nor does he usually play at such silly games. Maybe it's something about April? Who knows. Who even CAN know? Still, he pushes her chair in, then slips around the edge of the table to settle in across from her.

Where he leans against said table on his elbows. Betraying any notion of being a gentleman by having exactly no table manners. "You did not, no. Well, maybe you told me but it was during a period I was checked out a little?" Hard to explain those moments where it's him and it's also not him. So he just puts a finger on it, smirks, and nods towards her, "You tell me now and I never forget." At least this time.

Fork in hand, he stabs it at the edge of the pot pie, but doesn't actually take a bite. It just came out of the oven, that's a good way to get lava in your mouth.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue didn't fear the heat of the molten pot pie. thus her fork dished out a bite, and she popped it in to her mouth. With the light from the three fake candles dancing on the dark wood of their table, the Belle cleared her mouth with a swig of her orange juice, as she cast the Cajun a smirk at his non-committal response, essentially what she expected out of him.

"I got them about two weeks ago. We had a issue in Mutant Town we had to respond to. Seems some kids from some other dimension came here, to get the X-Men's help, cause we had all died in their world? It was all kinda confusin, and we didn't have a lotta time to go over it with them either." She said, as she shook her head gently, causing her smooth white bangs to wave against the sides of her face. Her green eyes went down to the food, as she forked at it a bit.

"anyway... One'a them gave me this necklace. Said it belonged to 'his rogue' in 'his world'." She drew in a breath, and softly exhaled it. "It was really sad. I mean, I'd never seen him before, obviously. But damn, did I see a melodramatic amount'a sadness in his eyes, when he saw me...."

She raised up another bite of the food, but spoke before she put it in her mouth. "He said she'd died savin' them, and that he wanted me to have her tags..."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy is a lot of things, but a guy who burns the roof of his mouth on molten hot chicken pot pie wasn't one of them. He watched her eat, however, and he did it with his usual level of amusement. Not because he's enjoying watching her eat, because that'd be a little weird, but because she threw caution to the wind. Which he claimed and only she could really do... unless you got into the whole kryptonian element, which he rarely did.

Instead he listens.

He nods.

Then when her story is finished, he frowns.

"Is it sad dat I kinda hope we finally got one of our kids coming back from the future?" He wondered off handedly. "I'm not saying I'm jealous of Jean and Scott, wit dere kids always showing up on our doorstep, but how it is we never have no critters?" Ahead of himself a little. His smile flickers. "Well, you.. your critters. I guess ship said on dem being mine." The fork is taken and jabbed a couple times into the pot pie.

"You always been dat person. Da one make dem kids remember you. Never me, you know? I guess I'm not da kind falls on a grenade. I want to be. Maybe dat why I'm gonna get a proper job?" He stabs at the pot pie. "Anyways. Why you make a whole pot pie? You expecting company?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue shook her head again, her eyes went down once more to the glass dish, before she stabbed her fork in to a carrot chip peaking out from under the golden crust. "I've thought about that before," she responded to his comments about their kids coming back from the future, or alternate dimensions. "I've only come to the conclusion that we either don't make it much further in our respective timelines... Or our kids are too stupid t'figure out how to come back in time ta harass us back here." She said, a grin slowly forming on her facial features, as she made that little joke.

She laughed in a breathy sort of way a second later, before she shook her head. "I got a little sister outta the Mojoverse... an' she's got a pretty big crush on you, Mistah. So behave. She's 14 now, an' if I unleash her, an she's anything like me when I was that age? Well, lets just say that I would've gladly gotten some older men I was crushin' on inta some trouble, if I coulda."

She grinned far more wickedly then, after speaking of the 14 year old clone of herself who was currently living with her father in Salem Center, and who went by the name Liz, or Beth, which was Rogue's middle name.

She rubbed the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek, before she took her hand from her drink, and rolled it over on the table to tap her fingers against the back of Remy's hand. Skin on skin.

The dog tags on her chest suddenly glowed a bright white blue around the edges of the tags, and she smirked. "See? These things block my mutation. No more relyin' on that trick, that was given me headaches...."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy points the prongs of her fork at Rogue saying their kids would be too stupid to figure out time travel. He even laughs, albeit quietly, "You probably right. Dey have enough trouble figuring out how time dem shoes, non?" Another chortle and he finally takes a bite of the pie, after blowing on it enough that it isn't steaming off the edge of the fork.

he almost gets it in his mouth too, until she mentions a 'sister' and that she's '14' and that she 'will cause trouble'. His brow furrows and he shakes his head. Slowly lowering the fork back down to the pan. "You tink dats who I am?" He doesn't really believe that she'd think that, but this is an important moment. Maybe one that's everal years in the making and only come around now. Like he's been waiting for an Uber that pulls up four years too late.

"It .. it never about.. maybe I give off the wrong impression when I'm not myself." Motioning at 'him', rather than other hims, with his fork. "It always about you, Anne-Marie. Always." Not her sister, certainly not her 14 year old sister. He shakes his head and laughs, quietly, off handedly.

"I'm sure dere a young me out there in some mojoverse for her. I hope not.. I weren't no saint at dat age. Done tings... think I got married about den." He squints, then shakes his head, "Maybe, don't remember all dem details. I just know... well.." He leans back in his seat, arms laid out across the back rest.

"I guess I keep waiting for our kids show up, tell me I was a good dad. Long wait for a train aint coming, probably." His smirk grows as his head tilts. Eyeing the dogtags. "Good you got something help you better than dem old tricks. No headaches." His red eyes settle on her, "Should I stop waiting?"

Rogue has posed:
Rogue raised her eyebrows at what he said, and quickly smirked at him, before shaking her head rapidly side to side. "I would not ever think you'd be susceptible to the feminine allures of my younger sister---" Even if she was really a clone. "But, I also know myself, and know she'd try anyway." She added a little grin again, before a smile took over at the thought of a young clone version of him.

"If there is a Little Gambit out there, I need to see him..." She said, with a yearnful tone to her voice, and body language. "It'd be like the cutest thing in the world, t'pair them off t'gether...."

She daydreamed about that for a few moments, while her fork went back to their shared dinner. As she was raising another bite up to enjoy, she heard his question, and she slipped the fork in to her mouth, closed her lips around it, and considered her possible responses. In the immediate, though, her shoulders just shrugged after a few seconds, before she pulled the cleaned fork from between her dusky pink lips.

"Anything is possible..." She quietly said, as she glanced down at the food with a bit of a noticeable dejected undertone to her physical features. Something she couldn't quite so easily share.

But after a moment, she did speak up. "Sometimes I feel like I'm livin' in a cage, and don't know how to get out. Sometimes I'm perfectly happy in it, sometimes I feel somethin' else. I think I might be impossible ta please. That I might just about be the most difficult woman who ever did live an' breathe."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
There's an actual relief in Remy's sigh, when Rogue admits she never really suspected he'd fall for her younger sister. Not so much that he was worried, so much as he worried that she was. You think you know someone, but it's good when they prove that you do. So he smiles and nods, and grabs his discarded fork to once more stab at the pie as she explains how adorable a young him and a young her might be.

With a quiet laugh, he jerks his shoulder up in a mirror image of her own. With a lopsided grin to boot. In jaw that would usually be stubbled, save he's shaved recently. "Nah. I ever see young me near young you, I worn her off. I can't have respectable young ladies near dat kind of cad..." He teases, quietly, of himself at the age. A grin breaks out across his face, wide and expressive.

Though it dims as she continues.

His eyes cant, but they remain on her. Watching. Not judgemental, but there's not a lot to the black and red orbs in his face. They carry a lot, but then carry nothing. Expressive only in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he squints at her. "I know how dat feels." He assures her. If not specifically to this the situation, certainly to the meaning.

"I never been da one try to push you, chere. I just... I hope you know, at least when it matter, I'm here non? Sometimes... I can't always account. I can't be held to the standards of every second.. But I 'tink you know when I can. I 'tink.... no... I hope you know when it matter." The fork, clean despite him never taking a bite, points in her direction. "I hope you know when dere is a difference. I'm da horse dat maybe get lame sometimes, but I'm always going to come back to stable. If I'm never nothing, to you, but a friend.. I always be dat. I be what you need. When you need."

Finally, oh so very finally, he stabs the pot pie and takes a bite. It's still too hot, but whatever, he can spend a few seconds doing that 'shit in my mouth is too hot, let me blow on it in my mouth to make it less hot' thing. Until he can finally swallow, lose track of what he was saying, and try to remember...

"... Maybe I aint dat good at being the shoulder. I just.. I hear you. I.. can't imagine how you feel. You always been a rock and everyone around you been waves. They coming and dey going." He uses his fork to move back and forth to simulate the motion of waves, "Hard to be solid when everything else not so static... guess dat do seem like a prison sometimes. Hard to imagine it don't."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue enjoys a few small little bites from confident fork stabbings, scoopings and even swipings. She is mostly listening to him speak, while her eyes do watch those fake little flames flickering in the electronic candles on the table. But, when he spoke about her being a rock, amongst mostly just waves, she looked back up at him, and a soft smile showed again on her visage. He had an eloquent nature to him, though he rarely would ever admit to it. The natural cadence that he spoke in, often sounded like poetry itself. It might even be why she got in to teaching the subject in the first place, or at least be a contributing factor.

"We went pretty fierce toward one another, when we first met, Remy." She quietly said toward him, as she raised her glass up for a simple sip. When she set it down again, she shook her head from side to side. "Here I was expectin' somethin' way too serious, for a couple'a people far too young t'really go for it. My mutation is probably the only thing that kept us from havin' those kids, that would surely become time travelers some day...." She grinned faintly at him once more.

"We all have had a lotta groin' up to do, is what I mean. I know that I sure have. Or, I feel like I have, at least. But I still feel as confused as a yard dog brought inside for the first time... unsure'a where to even sit, or stand."

She shook her head again, and extended the tip of her tongue to brush across her upper lip, her white bangs gently brushing her cheeks again.

"You're right though. I just want stability, peace, happiness. That farm house with the wrap around porch, the tree with the tire swing, an' a big ol' duck pond that I can sit on a porch swing, an' watch the ducks swim from it, as I lazily swing to and fro... My simple dream. But we live in a crazy world, with Mutants all over it, always needin' our help. I dunno if I'll ever get my peaceful dream world... I dunno if I'll ever get what I want, no matter how things shake out."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Remy puts down his fork in favor of a deck of cards he pulls from the pocket of his slacks. Unwrapped, which he remedies. Flittering fingers lay the plastic down on the table as he pops open the box with the rub of his thumb so the cards themselves dip into his out stretched hand. "Dat the nature of it, isn't it?" He says in a slightly distracted voice as he tosses the two jokers off the top to one side and begins shuffling the cards in one hand. Cutting them with his thumb at the middle, he flicks them together along the grooves int he cards, and then adds his second hand to do a dealers shuffle.

They fold together audibly as he speaks.

"We hope for tings when we young and have to face reality as we age. Dat dere, dat just getting older. Seeing da world for true." As he says this, he deals out four cards, face up. Ace, King, Queen, Jack, of hearts. He lets her see them, then turns them over so the red-white pattern is visible along the back. Dealing out another four above the first four, Ace, king, queen, jack of hearts. "We tinking that our life has a tragectory and expecting dem cards all line up." The cards are turned over, face down. Eight red and white patterns facing upwards.

"But it don't until it meant to be." He deals out another four cards, Ace, King, Queen, Jack of hearts. Which he flips over for her. "I want to be that for you, I alway tink maybe I am this time? Maybe dis it... we escape the tirbulations of our existance together, but something stand in the way..." He holds up the deck and begins slowly laying four more cards out, face up.

Ace, King, Queen, Jack of hearts.

"One day I know I get it right.. one day I deal the cards and we get that picket fence for you. You know I look at a house on the lake? I maybe tell you.. probably I did. I tell you I buy a place. Maybe it aint for me and you, that'd be okay if it aint. I just always want one ting..."

He deals out four cards:

Ace, King, Queen, Jack of hearts. "You to be happy."

Rogue has posed:
With the pot pie cooling, and Rogue having made a bigger dent in it than Remy had, the Belle set her fork down, having enjoyed one corner of the pie for herself. She sipped her drink, as he talked, and dealt with his cards. It caused her to sit up a bit straighter on her chair, her hands on either sides of her glass in front of her. Her green eyes watched him turn the various faces up, and each time she kept a close watch on what he was doing.

She didn't know cards near as well as he did. What she did know of them, HE taught her. Especially back in those days where the two of them were working with their Little Person friend in the city, who went by the name Stilts. Stilts had them doing card games for big cash payouts, with Remy the star, and Rogue his well dressed arm candy. That had been a peak in their time together, back when she was barely even in her 20s. She'd learned a fair amount back then, but has since forgotten some of it.

Still, she grinned. and at his words, she looked back up to his red eyes.

"I'm happy right now." She said back at him. "I think that is what matters most..."

Her fingers drummed on the table, and her head shook side to side. "Come on, Cajun. Deal me in on some blackjack." She glanced toward the doors, and the gradfather clock that sat beside them. When she looked back at him, there was a twinkle in her eyes. "Maybe we'll make it clothing related stakes..." She said in a teasing fashion. The Belle was ever the one to start a good back and forth with her Cajun counterpart, when it came to the flirtatious nature of their relationship.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
There was some things Remy remembered and there were some things he only pretended to remember. Stilts, the warehouse of goods, he remembered that. He remembered them hustling their way into all that stolen merchandise, then giving it away. He remembered 'that'. There had been a million things they'd done that he was present for, that was memerable only to one of them, for any number of reasons, but that was precious.

Because it was better times.

He tooks the cards he'd already dealt on the table and shuffled them back in the deck. "Good. Dat was my intent." For her to be happy. Forever, but certainly right now. With a twinkle in his own eye, the card shark started shuffling. "Dat aint a fair game, you going to wind up wit no clothes on." He teases, "Not dat ol Remy complain much bout that." He assures as he flips cards out on the table for her, one face down, one face up.

Ace facing up. Ten facing down.

She knows him well enough.

He'd dealt her blackjack on purpose.

"Maybe best you do the dealing, non?" He holds the cards up, gives them a little playful wiggle. "Just to keep da game fair? Hate for you to say I cheat later.." This is how he flirts. With his red and black eyes fixed upon her's, a warm smile on his face, and releganting the dealing of cards to her by holding the deck out in her direction.

"You know me... play fair, only way I know how to play." Which is just a God damn lie.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue set her drink aside, as it was mostly finished anyway. She pushed the pot pie to the side too, and draped the pot holder over it to keep it covered up. Her hands moved to either forearm, and her sweater sleeves were pushed up, as she grinned at him. "As if anyone is gonna complain about that." She said, of her ending up without any clothing down here in the rec room. It was Mutant High, and there were a number of instances where someone ended up in a state of indecent undress.

When he offered her to deal, her hands reached out to accept the cards, her dogtags dangling against her collarbone, and her head shaking side to side. "I am not near as good as you, at this, but I'll do my darndest..."

She shuffled the cards, and clearly he was not the only one capable of telling a little white lie, as the cards bent perfectly, and rapidly shuffled like bullets out of a machine gun. She spread them out on the table surface, then quickly scooped every one of them up in a line back in to a full stack, before she shuffled them once more.

Her green eyes looked up and over at him, and a half-cocked grin was given from the Belle to the Cajun. "Here we go..." She said, drawing a card. "First one for me."

She dropped the card, turned it over. "Queen of hearts." She announced.

"Two for you..."

And she dealt his next.