Avon, VilaSet in early season 3; 500 words.
Title: Poker Night
"There's always a dull moment when Tarrant's around."
"Well, Vila. What do you think our newest crewmembers wear?"
"I recall your speculations about the Liberator underwear." Avon leant back on the flight couch. "You had Blake down as a white cotton Y-fronts man, I believe."
"Oh, yes." Vila grinned. "That's right. My picks were Jenna in black lace, Cally in slinky polyester, and Gan in those stretch briefs strong men wear in fitness ads." He regarded Avon thoughtfully. "And I had you pegged as going commando under all that leather."
"Interesting," Avon sipped his drink coolly, "However you really have no idea at all as to the accuracy of your guesses, do you?"
Vila narrowed his eyes. He suspected Avon might know more about Auron lingerie fashion than he was letting on, and he was sure that Jenna and Blake would have been able to tell him about each other . Not that he'd dared ask. "Do you?"
Avon ignored the question. "Well, then. How about Dayna and Tarrant?"
"Oooh, let me think. Leopard-skin or some animal print briefs for Dayna I think, and for Tarrant ... a bright pink posing pouch."
Avon's expression did not change but he almost spilled his drink. "Would you care to have a wager on that?"
"What's your bet then?"
"Cartoon spaceships in garish colours."
Vila laughed. "You're on!"
"And how do you suggest we find out?"
"They're young and reckless, aren't they? The others'd never have gone along with it and we're good at cards."
"What do you have in mind?"
It took all of Vila's skill and sleight-of-hand to ensure he stayed ahead and relatively well-clothed. Avon he left to his own devices but Vila suspected he'd cut a deal with Orac as he was wearing a bracelet and had only removed his belt and one boot. Dayna had put on several layers including the leopard-skin coat Cally had worn on the Sarkoff mission--lending weight to Vila's theory about her more intimate attire--and was still quite demurely dressed. It appeared that her father had taught her cards. Tarrant however played with fire, dash, and little calculation, and was now bare-chested and bootless.
"I'll see you, Tarrant," Vila said.
"I've got a pair."
"I'm out." Dayna divested herself of a jerkin, grinning at Tarrant with anticipation.
"Full house," said Vila.
"And I," Avon said, "have a royal flush."
"Yes, you would." Vila removed one of his four socks.
"And now, as Vila said, let's see you, Tarrant."
Tarrant stood up, shrugged, and dropped his trousers.
Everyone (but Cally who was on watch because she did not approve of gambling, and besides, Tarrant hadn't wanted to play a telepath) stared.
"You were wrong, Vila."
"So were you."
"Federation standard issue black, I rather think."
Dayna grabbed the deck eagerly. "Another hand?"
"No, that's it for me." Tarrant started to get dressed. "An officer should retain his dignity."
Dayna screwed up her face. "You're no fun."
Vila grinned at her. "There's always a dull moment when Tarrant's around."