Ten grit his teeth in an uncharacteristic show of agitation. He and this stranger had played every game known to the Nobody, from poker to rummy to goldfish, from chess to backgammon to Monopoly (both deluxe and Star Wars editions), and even such games as darts and horseshoes. They had been going at it for hours upon hours, and had indeed started this little contest early yesterday morning.

And there was yet to be a winner.

Games had been finished, dragged on and absolutely never abandoned, and each one had inevitably ended in a tie, a draw, a stalemate, an impasse.

Several times, Luxord had surreptitiously summoned a Gambler or a Dusk or some other low-level Nobody to see if the other man was cheating, and each time the man had smiled his mysterious smile and the air about them crackled with energy as Luxord's minions were swallowed by the shadows.

Perhaps this man was a Nobody as well? But no, the other's occasional reliance on what he called "the heart of the game" suggested otherwise. No self-respecting Nobody would toss about the word 'heart' or any implications thereof so carelessly.

Shuffling his deck of cards again, Luxord watched the man with calculating blue eyes; the man watched him with the same cunning scrutiny in his crimson eyes. Donning an appropriate visage of haughty indifference, he asked, "So then, what game shall be our tiebreaker?"

"Whatever game you would like to play." And there was that confidence, that absolute, infallible confidence radiating from his words, his posture, his plays, him. If he were a weaker man, Luxord would have been unnerved by it; he supposed this is what his opponents felt when the faced him.

Flipping a card over, the blonde man grinned back at the Jack of Spades; he flashed it quickly to the other man, who also grinned, a tad smugly.

"Twenty-one it is. Best of three?"

"Of course."

The cards were dealt. Luxord smirked at his ten and his six, hitting himself with a four.

"Hit." Ten obliged; the King of Hearts. His opponent nodded, and they both flipped their cards.

Ten, six, four; eight, two, King. Twenty.

And the next round: five, five, Queen; ten, Jack. Twenty.

Nine, Ace; seven, three, Queen. Twenty.

The stranger stood, grinning that same grin he always did, and paid for his drink. "Looks like it's not in the cards for you today."

"Nor for you, I see," Luxord responded, standing as well, tucking one arm under the other while he raised his hand to prop his chin up.

"You could say that; but I didn't lose."

"Nor I."

Shaking his head and looking amused, as though what Luxord had said was some inside-joke that never ceased to be funny, the strange man turned and headed to the exit of the bar.

Grinning his own facetious grin and calling a portal to darkness, Ten called, "Same time tomorrow?"

The man turned back to face him, bowing formally at the hip; his eyes glittered as he returned, "Of course," before exiting the pub.