AN - I am doing Camp NaNoWriMo this month (google knows). So there is even less planning/editing involved in this than usual.

There is nothing scary in this except for the very faint of heart, some mild swears and implied Malahad. "This is my otp, I'll go down with this ship. I ship it." - 'I ship it' by Not Literally, can be found on youtube. I sing it in my head. A lot.

Eggsy has a lot of skills. Nothing else should be expected of a gentleman spy working for an independent international organization. He had been trained to be good at many surprising things (surprise assassinations, surprise explosions, surprise seductions, surprise get-aways). Not all of his skills come from that training however. As Eggsy demonstrated fatally to the last 'real' Arthur, Eggsy had skillz (definitely spelt with a 'z') before he was given the polish of a super-spy.

Eggsy's attendance at high school could be described as 'sporadic'. Not a word he would use as a first choice (although he knows very well what it means, ta very much). It was probably a Harry word, or a 'Formally-Merlin-don't-call-me-Arthur-I-hate-this-job' word. Eggsy would have said with total honesty, and a certain amount of possibly misplaced pride;

"I were a right skivin' shite me, innit?"

It is safe to say, many of his more interesting skillz were not learnt in a classroom setting.

Many of Eggsy's skillz, involved cards and card games. Eggsy could bluff, he could watch tells, he could count cards (not that he did that often, it was dangerous to win too often around his way). He had all kinds of tricks for shuffling and cutting and dealing (and ahem, hiding) cards. He also had a lot of tricks that were just tricks. Magic tricks to "astound and divert". Mostly divert, while his quick fingers did something else.

One other thing Eggsy can do with cards, however, is read them. Well, possibly it should count as two things because he can cold read for a person, telling them what they want or need to hear, or he can read read for someone. That had been a very educational few afternoons with someone's old Russian gran who needed grass to help with her joint pain and needed someone else to run to the shop when she got the munchies. Very educational.

The point is, in his new life as a super-spy, Eggsy spends a lot of time jetting here and there and between the various crises he has a lot of time to get quite bored. Obviously only after he has fully familiarized himself with all the relevant mission data he has been provided ("Thank you Arthur, don't you have reports to sign or sumthin'?"), he is not actually suicidal. A pack of cards is a small thing to carry about, it does not spoil the line of his suit too much if kept in the right pocket and it keeps him occupied in the enforced down-time.

When he is on a solo mission, which most are at the moment because they are short-staffed to all hell, Eggsy plays patience in a mindless, time-passing sort of way as he thinks about other things. Eggsy is not prone to deep philosophical thoughts, most of what he thinks about is mission related or about his family (including the insane 'extended' family of Roxy and 'Stop-calling-me-that-you-insubordinate-hellion!'). He wonders what gifts he should buy for his mother and sister, whether Roxy is doing alright kicking ass on her own mission, what 'Not-Merlin-anymore' would look like if he had hair, whether Harry would be proud if he could see him now.

He deals himself the king of hearts and stares at it on the table in front of him.

Hmmm. Well that is definitely Harry Hart, in many more ways than just the name.

He scoops the rest of the cards together and shuffles. He is not sure what his question is, but he keeps Harry firmly in mind as the cards move in his hands. He deals himself three and turns them over.

The king of clubs, the ace of diamonds, the two of spades.

There is no one in Eggsy's life who can be the king of clubs except 'Just-because-you-saved-the-world-does-not-mean-you-have-unlimited-access-to-our-hand-grenades'. So, he is going to get an important message that is going to force everything to change. Something, that is somehow connected to Harry.

He is distracted by being told to strap in for landing. He wonders vaguely what the message will be. Maybe someone has read Harry's will and discovered he has a horde of secret love children hidden somewhere. Eggsy closes his eyes and, because he is not prone to deep thoughts, decides he feels like Chinese for dinner.

It is a week later, when Eggsy is sitting being scowled at in 'Oh-no-you-didn't!-God-I-need-a-drink's' office, that the recording of the call is put through. It is deemed so important that Eggsy's latest dressing down is interrupted.

"Oxfords, not brogues." Says a voice that has the colour drained from both men's faces instantly. "Damn it Merlin! What are you playing at? Why am I still in Kentucky? Apparently it's been months! I have a beard, Merlin! And they are making me wear this horrible thing with an open back that feels a step away from plastic. You would think they have never heard of housecoats! Please get me out of this hell, I am sure I have been punished enough, Love." The recording ends.

'Love' pukes his guts out into his hastily grabbed waste-paper basket, and Eggsy is impressed both with his presence of mind and his reflexes.

So, he thinks, life-changing in a good way then. That's nice. Probably no horde of secret love children though, which is a bit of a shame because it would have been nice if Daisy had other super-spy kids to play with.

He cannot remove the smile that is threatening to split his face in half, but that is fine, he doesn't want to anyway. He offers 'Love' his handkerchief to wipe his mouth as he doesn't seems to have one, exempt as he seems to be from the 'suits to be worn at all times' rule and therefore not having a jacket pocket to keep the (normally) redundant piece of material in.

"Well, I will just consider myself balled-out then shall I, Arthur? And you can head off to deliver housecoats to stranded posh blokes in Kentucky." Eggsy says with his shit-eating grin.

He is blinked at owlishly in reply for a moment. Then there is an answering grin.

"Harry is alive! He can be bloody Arthur! And then you will be his bloody pain-in-arse problem!"

"Yeah." Says Eggsy completely disbelievingly. "I am sure those are totally the main good points. Go and bloody get him! Love."

AN2 - I know nothing about cards, or reading them, but the internet is a big place and knows much more.

I was inspired by 'Shape of my heart' by Sting, which is worth listening to.