You got to know when to fold them (OPEN)

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Gawain had found heaven.

An entire place devoted to gambling, drinking and being served by scantily clad girls who looked hot, hot, hot. How had he never come across a place like this in his life?! Why weren’t there more places like this?! It had taken him a second to work out exactly what was going on, but gambling isn’t that hard to spot. It reeks of desperation intermingled with hope and every now and then victory. You could see it in the faces of the people crowded around the tables as some of them dipped back into their pockets to pay for more of the chip things which he assumed represented money. He had wandered around for a bit looking at all the games, seeing if there was anything there he recognised or anything eh could pick up quickly enough. One table seemed particularly easy, all you needed to do was get 21 with the little bits of hard parchment, or just get more than the dealer but not to go over 21. Huh. Seemed easy enough.

He was on his third beer and still at the table. He had watched his chips rise and fall, and at this particular point he was on a rise. So much so that he now had a bit of an audience. They cheered as he managed to get 20 which beat the dealers 19.

“Woo! I’m definitely getting the hang of this now,” he said as he pulled the chips towards him.

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"If you could pause your betting for just a moment, we're changing dealers." The current dealer announced with a professional smile, gathering up his cards and moving aside so that the new dealer could set up.

Lance nodded a greeting to his colleague, stepping into place and opening up a new deck, loading it into the automated machine with a practiced hand, not yet looking up at the table.

"Alright then, ladies and gents, your be-Gawain!" He finally noticed just who was the centre of the little crowd that had gathered, recognising the other young man he had once met in the chilly wilds of Scotland. "How you doing, mate?"
When he originally spoke, he had been using the same careful, courtly tone he used when speaking to most people here at Tintagel, his attempt at sounding more like the prince he now knew he was, but when he spoke to Gawain, it dropped to something much more relaxed and ever so slightly common.

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LANCE!” said Gawain leaping up out of his seat to give the other man a bone crushing bare hug, accompanied by a couple of slaps on the back.
 
He sat back down, grinning at the other man, still astonished to see him standing there and said, “I’m very well my friend, very, very well indeed, like. I’m jus’ showing this lot how we play it back home. Or at least, how we would play it back home if we had this game back home, d’ya ken like? Aw it’s great to see you mate. Yer looking just as good yourself.”
 
Just as lance became more common, Gawain’s accent became just that little bit thicker, as it usually did when he was getting drunker and louder. It wasn’t for the same reasons as Lance that he watered down his original accent, but for the only reason that he needed other people to understand what drinks he was trying to order. However the drink, combined with his friends own accent always put the scottishness up a notch.
 
“Wit ya doin’ all they way up here like? An workin’ in a Casino? Wit happened tae the fighting circles ye were doin’? Now that was pure class man.”

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As a few members of the crowd surrounding Gawain looked at each other in puzzlement, wondering just what language the man was actually speaking, Lancelot just nodded along with the words - Gawain was always in some state of inebriation, and the last time they had met the two of them had definitely 'hit the town', so he was well practiced in understanding the increasingly scottish dialect.

"It's great to see you too mate!" He grinned back "Aw, they were brutal, good training but not really the sort of thing I wanted to be doing, I'm going to be a knight, see. It's not really proper knightly behaviour, fighting circles, is it? Gotta better myself and all that, be gallant and true." the smirk that accompanied these words was positively rogueish.

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Gawain nodded knowingly at the other man’s words. It was difficult being a knight, that’s why he much preferred being a Scottish Knight. All he had to do was fight, drink and hunt, not necessarily in that order…not necessarily not, not in that order. Sometimes even all at the same time. The point being that there was a lot of the other stuff he didn’t have too, purely because…he was awesome. True fact.

“See, d’ya ken wit yer problem is, like? Cause I do. Yer problem is, why ye got tae dae all this gallant horse poo stuff, it’s cause yer a Frenchie,” he said smiling smugly, “I mean, I got nothing against the French. A pure brilliant bunch of people, and the sexiest lassies in mainland Europe. Voulez vous…whatver, but the point is, they’re all obsessed like with that chivalry nonsense. You need tae get yerself a good Scottish lass Lancy, they ken about priorities. Fighting, drinking, and getting the tea on.”

He took a sip of his beer as the people around him grew even more confused, “But aye, come back tae Orkney, I’ll make ya a Knight. Or are ya still dreamin’ about being a knight of my cousin’s court. Cause they’re laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.”

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The crowd around Gawain might have been growing more confused and uncertain with every word, but Lancelot took it all in thoughtfully. Eventually, he should his head dismissively.

"Nah," He said eloquently, and for a moment it seemed like that was all he was going to say, but eventually he carried on "It's not about the girls - and don't let Arthur hear you saying it's all French by the way, you know what he's like - it's just... it's what I've been training for, innit? So I can't like just run off to piss about now that I'm so close to it, that'd be stupid, it'd make it all a waste. No offense to you, mate, but I don't want to be one of your knights, I want to be one of Arthur's." He shrugged matter-of-factly. Tempting as it was just to give up and go drink beer, this was what he'd been aiming for and he could practically taste it he was so close.

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“What is it with my cousin? Everybody wants to be one of his knights…alright, I can understand why maybe ya dinnae wanna be one of ma knights, yer far too good fer yer own good, ye’ll never get a lassie wi’ that attitude,” he said and looked up at the girl who was standing beside him and grinned, “hey, how ya doin’?”

The girl giggled despite not completely understanding the rest of what he had been saying. His eyes wandered a little lower before turning back to look at Lance, “Now, ya big Jessie, deal me out those cards. I’m on a roll here and I’m not goin’ hame until I’ve got more than enough tae by everybody here two rounds of drinks.”

The crowd cheered again, mainly because they had recognised the word drinks and that was always good.

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Lance shrugged, to be honest he couldn't quite explain it - well, ok, he could, but he didn't want to. Telling Gawain that Arthur's knights were just the best of the best and that was that... well, it was tantamount to insulting the Scot, and Lancelot counted him as one of his few close friends, so insulting him was the last thing he wanted to do. Not seriously, anyway.

Shaking his head at his friend's antics - and at the fickle crowd, who were cheering because they thought it was the right moment to cheer rather than because they actually knew what was going on - he dealt the cards as instructed. Despite the gathered crowd, Gawain was the only person actually playing, so it was sort of like they were an audience of a game between the two of them. It made Lancelot a little more invested than he usually was when he was a dealer, but he couldn't really do anything about it.

"Thirteen," he announced, glancing at Gawain's cards, "Stick or twist?" he asked, his gaze flicking briefly to his own cards, one yet to be revealed and the other a ten.

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Gawain looked at the cards with a confused expression on his face before looking back up at the girl at his side. He was on a winning streak, he had a nice little pile of cash there which would cover his drinking spending for at least the next couple of days. Also either way, whether he won this or not, he could work so that he didn’t go home alone, but that wasn’t the important part, not right now. It was this thrill, the thrill he got when he was betting big and taking the risk, that was what was important. The money and the girl didn’t matter, he could get either whenever he wanted, it was risking it all, betting big and winning or losing big. That’s what was important.

He reached and pushed the rest of the little plastic chips on to the table and said, “I’ll raise ye laddie. Hit me or twist me or whatever it is.”

Looking up at Lance he grinned, and said, “how about we make this even more interesting? If you win, I’ll go tae ma cousin, get down on ma knees and beg him to make me one of his knights…and I win…I…dunno…I get yer first born child!”

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Normally, when people offered to make things 'more interesting' with the dealers, they would just smile politely and refuse and get on with their job - but this was his best friend. Well, one of his best friends. Well, a friend that had got him obscenely drunk a few times that one week or so back in Scotland, who would probably be a best friend if they both stuck around this place for very long.

"Alright, deal." He said, dealing Gawain out another card. "Six, giving you nineteen, stick or- wait, what would you do with my first born child?"
He'd been too hung up on the idea of Gawain, quite entertainingly, begging Arthur to become a knight to actually think about the offhand request that the other man had made. Now that Gawain had a pretty good hand to be dealing from, Lancelot thought it was probably wise he'd find out just what he might be getting himself - or rather, his first born - in for.

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Gawain pretended to think about it for a moment as the crowd around them were still laughing at the wager. The girl giggled beside him and leaned in closer running her hand down his arm. Oh yeah, it didn’t matter how much he lost tonight he was still going to leave the casino a winner, and not alone. He smiled at her before turning back to Lance and saying, “Well if it’s a boy, I am gonnae teach him everything I know, raise him up tae be a mini me, but ya ken, he’ll be mixed with all the chivalrous goodyness that you come wi’ which means that he’ll be one hell of a lassies man. Cause ye ken, your looks, my teachings equals one awesome guy.”
 
He took a long drink of beer and then continued, “And if it’s a lassie, well she’ll be stunnin’ if she’s anythin’ like you, so I might jus’ let you raise her till she’s legal then I’ll come in a claim her.”
 
Again the crowd laughed, the girl didn’t giggle though, instead she wrapped her other arm around him a little more possessively.
 
Gawain grinned and pointing at the cards said, “Twist me.”

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"I am never letting you near my daughter." Lancelot stated bluntly, eyes narrowing "You can do whatever you want with whoever you want, especially if they know what they're getting themselves in for," he glanced at the girl draping herself over Gawain and figured she was probably well aware "But you leave my little girl alone. My hypothetical little girl, I mean."
He forced himself to relax a little, realising that he was probably getting just a little bit too intense for some cheerful banter between friends, and glanced down at Gawain's cards.

"...Alright, if you want..." he said skeptically, dealing Gawain another card.

"...I don't believe it, you jammy git." He remarked unprofessionally as he lay a 'two' down on the table, giving Gawain a total of twenty one.
Shaking his head, he deftly flipped over his remaining card, revealing a six, before dealing himself another.
"Seven, dealer busts, you win." He pushed the chips across the table to Gawain, still shaking his head, and collected the cards.

At least Gawain would probably have forgotten about the deal by the morning, let alone by the time there was an opportunity to collect.

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Gawain just laughed as Lancelot got protective over his hypothetical little girl, after all it was a ridiculous idea anyway. Not that age was really a problem in their time, and he would like to think that even at the age where she would be an appropriate age he still had the charm and looks to get her…there was something just a little wrong about that in his mind as well. Lance was a good friend and only bad things like wars and stuff came out of annoying a good friend, especially a soldier like Lance. No, no matter how incredibly hot that young girl was…he was probably best just staying away…probably.

When lance turned over the card Gawain left out of his chair and cheered, the crowd joining in with him. He was cheering so much he didn’t even notice or care when Lance revealed that the dealer was burst. He turned to the girl beside him and dipping her, kissed her rather fiercely before standing up tall again and cheering. The girl giggled and was a little unsteady on her feet as Gawain reached across the table to drag the huge pile of chips he now had. Whilst he was leant over the table he leaned forward and grabbed Lance’s face, kissing him as well.

Sitting back he laughed and turned to the still cheering and laughing crowd, “DRINKS ALL ROUND!”

He pointed back to Lance and said, “And you laddie! It’s time tae party, take the rest of the night aff! Ah’ll speak tae yer boss and we can go, get DRUNK! Where’s a Ceilidh when ya need one?!”

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"Gawain!" Lance moaned, pulling away from his 'friend' and wiping his sleeve across his mouth. It was so typical of the Scot to do something like that - it wasn't that Lance was homophobic, after all he'd managed to put up with Kay's advances quite well, but it threw anybody off to have their friend suddenly land one on them like that. Especially when it had been so long that he'd forgotten Gawain had a tendency to do things like that.
Gods knew what Gwen would say if she ever saw it.

"As luck would have it," he began, though he wasn't sure how wise this was "This was my last table before I finished my shift, and you spent so long talking that it's nearly time for a new dealer."

And there he went again, mentioning that crazy 'kay lee' nonsense. Last time he'd been incredibly drunk when Gawain had roped him into it, and the bizarre dancing had left him hopelessly confused, stepping on more than one young lady's toes, and really quite dizzy.

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“YAAAASSSSSSS!” he cheered as Lance said that this was his last table, “we are gonnae hit this town the night and paint it not just red but all the colours of the rainbow!”

The crowd had already dispersed to the bar in anticipation of their free drinks, all except the girl who was still hanging around Gawain, although he was showing little interest in her at the moment. He was showing much more interest in the man in front of him, Lance, his friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t have any friends back in Scotland, he did, lots (pun intended) and of course he had his brothers as well. It was just Lance understood him on a level no one else did, and was less inclined to judge him for his actions. He had enjoyed it when the other man had stayed with them and was a little depressed when he had to leave, but now they were back. The dynamic duo. All he needed now was for Gareth to turn up and their little trio would be complete!

“And most importantly,” he said patting the other mans shoulder, “we, are gonnae find ya wench, and I want nane o’this true love s****. D’ya ken?”