A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [15]
He grabbed a white chip. “Fifty.”
This time Picard raised an eyebrow, a mannerism he’d picked up after a particularly intense Vulcan mind-meld thirteen years earlier, and which was one of his few tells: it meant he wasn’t sure how to bet.
Vale, however, didn’t hesitate. “Call,” she said, putting in a white chip of her own. This raised Riker’s confidence: she didn’t feel strong enough to raise, but felt that she could beat whatever he had alongside the tens.
After several moments’ thought, Picard called as well.
The only time Riker ever allowed his face to relax when he played poker was after the final bet. This time he grinned as he turned over his hole cards. “Boat.”
“You know,” Troi said, “I still don’t understand why a full house is called a ‘boat.’ “
“The etymology of the term, Counselor—” Data started, looked around the table, saw the annoyed looks most everyone was giving him, including Troi, and then continued with only minimal hesitation: “—is something we can discuss at a later date.” Several people at the table chuckled, including Riker. “The commander has a full house, tens over eights, and also has the ten of spades.”
Picard turned over his hole cards to reveal that he did have the other ace, as well as two kings, hearts and diamonds. Riker was not surprised, though he was disappointed that the captain was willing to part with his chips so easily. Riker would have beat the captain even if he still had three of a kind.
“Two pair for the captain, no spades in the hole.” Data then looked at Vale. “Lieutenant?”
First Vale turned over the queen of spades. If nothing else, that entitled her to half the pot, since it was the highest spade in the hole.
Then she flipped over the four and five of hearts. Along with either of her threes, the six of hearts and the seven of clubs, it gave her a straight. Riker was now especially grateful for the eight he pulled on the last round, as the straight would have beaten his three tens.
“Straight flush for the lieutenant,” Data said, and Riker’s jaw fell.
What the hell?
Then he saw it.
Damn Data and his stupid variations anyhow. So focused was he on the queen of spades as the high spade that he momentarily forgot that it was also a wild card. Vale had the three through six of hearts, and could use the wild to substitute for the seven of that suit, thus giving her one of the best possible poker hands.
“Well played,” Riker said glumly. “I’m surprised you didn’t raise me.”
“Nah,” Vale said as she raked in her chips. “If I started going crazy with only a pair of threes showing, you would’ve known I had something good in the hole, which would’ve beat your three of a kind.”
“I had a boat,” Riker pointed out.
“You pulled that on the last card,” Vale said confidently.
Frowning, and ignoring the giggles that were now emitting from the mouth of his fiancée, Riker asked, “How’d you know that?”
“You checked on the second-to-the-last bet. You never check when you have a hand better than a straight.”
“Yes, I do!” Even as Riker said the words, he frantically thought back to the night’s prior hands to see if that pattern had, indeed, emerged.
“Maybe you do generally, but you haven’t tonight. You should be careful of that.”
Again, Riker thought back over the night’s hands—then stopped. Dammit, she got me. She was trying to psych him out—an obvious trick that he never used to fall for. “I can see I’m getting complacent in my old age.”
“Well, it happens to the best of us, sir—stands to reason, it’d happen to you, too.”
Riker snorted. “Watch it, Lieutenant. I’m still first officer on this ship for a little while longer, and it’s very much within my power to have you keelhauling first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.” Vale spoke in a mock-grave tone.
“See that you do,” Riker said, barely managing to keep a straight face. He turned to La Forge. “Your deal.