Strip Poker

"Full house!" the girl crowed, proudly showing her cards to the big man across from her. "Take that you hustler!"

Sam winced, glancing down at his pitiful pair of twos. He reached for a pack of rations on the table. He handed them to the girl.

She took them from him but continued to hold out her hand.

"Oh no you don't, Sammy boy," She shook her head at him. "Come on now, I did it, it's your turn now."

Heaving a sigh, Sam reached for the bottom of his shirt, but hesitated to tug it off.

The girl features softened from the gleeful playful expression to a worried one, instead.

"It's alright, Sam. I promise you've got nothing I haven't seen before" the girl cajoled.

With a heavy sigh, Sam slowly pulled his shirt over his head, and hung it on the

chair behind him.

The girl started to beam, but stopped, instantly noticing the scars on his arms. Cane scars, very old and lots of them.

"Jesus Christ! Oh damn, Sam, is that why you didn't want to?" she began.

Sam hung his head, one tear falling from his eye.

Reaching across the table, the girl put a hand on Sam's hand. I'm so sorry, Sammy," she whispered." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Topless herself, having lost the very first hand and badly, the girl slowly rose from her chair and turned her back to him, giving him an ample view of her many whip scars. It was a much better view then she had let him have of her tiny breasts.

She heard him give a soft whimper of sympathy, and she swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat.

"Hey, it's okay, was a long time ago."

"Who?" he whispered haltingly, putting his hands softly on her shoulders.

Turning back to face him, she looked him straight in the eye, wanting to make sure he could easily lip read her. She did not want to have to repeat this.

"My dick of a Dad," she replied matter-of-factly, and felt him jerk involuntarily.

"It's no big deal," she went on with forced calm. "That's not the worst of what he used to do to me. Got those the first, and the last, time I said no to him."

Sam gasped in horror. Releasing her, he was on his feet in a flash. He whirled around and jerked his bat off the floor.

"Where," he demanded, swinging his bat menacingly and turning back to the girl. "I go get him for you!"

"Hey!" the girl shouted and ducked as he nearly accidentally took her head off with his first swing.

"Woah! Holy shit, Sam, stop, please!" she cried. "Sam stop, oh dammit! I forgot he can't hear me!"

Wide-eyed, the girl jumped away and backed in to a corner. as he smashed the bat down on the fragile old plastic folding card table, it collapsed with a crunching sound, now just a pile of crumpled plastic, and this seem to bring Sam back to his senses. Still keeping her distance, the girl watched as Sam, breathing heavily, slowly lowered his bat and put it away.

She watched warily as he stepped toward where she now stood with her back pressed hard against a wall, resisting the urge to cower as he moved closer and closer to her. But the sorrow and remorse on his face was evident even before he began slowly signing to her.

"Damn, I really gotta have Mohammad teach me more signs. But if that means you're sorry, it's okay, Sam," she told the big man, letting him take her by the hand and gently lead her back to where they had been sitting. He retrieved the spilled chairs, settled her in one, and sat down on the other directly in front of her. They sat so close their knees were touching.

The girl forced a grin.

"Guess this means the end of our game?" she asked.

Sam blushed as if he had forgotten all about their little impromptu game.

She began to laugh, then Sam began to grin as well. Impulsively, the girl reached out and put her arms around his neck, hugging him. He held her against his chest for a long moment, gently rubbing her back and softly touching her long blond hair.

The sound of a gasp from the door made her jump, and she felt Sam jerk away from her. She shivered without the warmth of his arms around her. He jumped up, and as he was picking up her shirt to hand it back to her, Mohamad came completely in to the room.

"Oh shit! Woah, hey, what the—" the boy exclaimed. He looked from a shirtless Sam to the also shirtless girl, saw her shirt in sam's hands, and blushed deeply.

"Wow, uh, I'll just come back later, okay," he said out loud and signed at the same time for Sam's benefit. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt any—"

"No, Mohamad, it's not what you think," the girl cried, taking her shirt from Sam and hastily pulling it back on. She did not realize that she had put it on backwards and inside out as well.

"We were just playing cards... Tell him, Sam!"

"Then why are the cards all over the floor and the table broken?" Mohammad could not help but ask. "No, never mind, it's none of my business, really."

Sam was shrugging back in to his own shirt as the girl followed Mohammad out of the room. She caught his arm before he could go much further.

"Mohamad, I—"

The boy took her hand off his arm, but then he did not let go and held on to it and stared at her intently.

"Look, what you and Sam do really is your business, but Sam is my family now. He's all I've got left, and... and I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"I would never hurt Sam," the girl exclaimed, looking truly horrified at the thought. "He's such a sweet gentle guy. I'd never do anything to hurt him, Mohamad."

"But you haven't noticed it, have you?" Mohammad said.

"Noticed what?"

"How he... Oh, never mind," Mohammad shrugged, letting her go. He turned to walk away, then turned back.

"Did you know that's on backwards, your shirt?"

Pulling her arms in, she turned the shirt on her body till it faced the right way. "Is that better?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Now what?" she demanded, his amused grin irritating her.

"Well, it's also on inside out, too."

"Dammit!" the girl gave a loud groan as Mohammad slipped past her and went back to where Sam stood silently watching the two of them.

***

A/N:

For all the Sam fans, this is very much season one, or maybe even pre-season one Sam. He's still our gentle giant in this one.