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Cards Against the Conspiracy // The Weight of This Combination

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“Bloody wanker,” Sarah curses. “Dammit, Tony!”

“Thought you were good at cards, Punk Princess,” he smirks.

“Oh, piss off. You didn’t choose mine on purpose, ya tit.”

“Sarah, please,” Alison says sharply, receiving the expected glare in response.

“Well, if we were all pickin’ the best responses, I’d be winnin’, now wouldn’t I?”

“Okay, here goes: next pick!” Cosima interrupts cheerily, “Let’s see what you suckas got for me with…ohhh.”

She stops and clears her throat.

“But before I kill you, Miss Mann - I’m sorry - ahem - Mr. Bond, I must show you…” she gestures out to the table.

“Oi, Cos, you’re a tit, too,” Sarah sneers lightly. Cosima haphazardly cups her breasts in her hands and holds them and her shirt dramatically for a few seconds - even Alison erupts in laughter, and it takes a minute for all them to refocus their attention to their game.

Cosima cracks her knuckles and grabs up the cards that have been tossed towards her.

“The homosexual agenda! Oh, Fee!”

“What?” he exclaims as though he’s surprised she’d assumed correctly.

“I think what she means to say,” jests Tony, “is that it’d make Bond’s job a hell of a lot easier if ya were enlightenin’ him to what all us queers git up to.”

Sarah gives a dramatic flexing of her eyebrows.

“Make it sound like we got nametags, Tone.”

“Don’t you lot?” reminds Felix, and she shrugs, and Cosima puts the rest of the cards down.

“My machete…the female orgasm…genetically engineered super soldiers and…another goddamn vampire movie,” Cosima laughs, only just barely able to read the cards out as she sets them in a row.

“I personally think is obvious which answer is correct,” grumbles Helena, putting down her cupcake.

“Oi, what, meathead? The machete?” Sarah teases, and she purses her lips disapprovingly.

“Do not call me this,” she says in the same tone, and her smile widens.

“Well,” says Cosima eventually after a few more moments of quotidian banter, “I’m quite the fan of the female orgasm.”

She flicks the card gently between her fingers, her eyebrows raised inquisitively.

“Yes!” yelps Alison, and everyone gasps jovially.

“Holy shite, Ali! That seemed like a stretch for you! You’re coming along!” congratulates Sarah, smirking and starting to gather up everyone’s cards. Alison shrugs theatrically, leaning back against the couch for a few seconds before reaching to help Sarah put the cards back in the box.

“How’s my timing, Clone Club?” comes Siobhan’s voice from the kitchen, and as the group’s gazes jump in her direction they see her pulling the door to the flat closed, Kira pushing supportively a foot below her.

“You know, technically, I’m not a part of Clone Club,” Felix feigns a grumble, and S’s half-hearted scoff is audible even from where they are.

“Oh, shut up, Fee!” Sarah exclaims, shoving him gently. He purposely lets himself fall to the floor by where he’s sitting.

“Mum! Sarah’s being mean to me again!”

“Oi, what’s new?”

Kira’s laughter is loudest this time, and she, Oscar and Gemma come bounding over to the couch square, jumping up onto one of them.

“Take your shoes off, please,” says Alison, and they all kick them off onto the floor as they squirm around in the couch to find a way all three of them can sit together comfortably before they’re questioned about their evening out with their favorite gran.

“Anybody want a cuppa?” calls S, receiving the enthusiastic, universal response she expects, and by the time the kettle boils, everyone’s laughing so loudly at one of Kira’s stories that no one else even hears it.