Rogue looked at him silently for a moment, watching his hands work the cards skillfully, before she shrugged. "Sure, why not. Impress me", she said, turning to face him fully on the bar stool, legs crossed and gloved hands folded in her lap, strangely prim and proper for such a dusty, dank place.
"Put a 'real smile' on my face as you say", she added. It was hard to keep steady on the bar stool and she was reminded again of how badly she handled alcohol. She was damned determined to make it to the door without falling and after out of his line of sight, she could stumble as much as she wanted.