The saloon in this quiet border town was a picture of sleepy Western life – the clink of glasses, the low murmur of voices, the scent of stale beer and sawdust. Johnny, with his usual fox-like grin, had already commandeered a poker table in the center, a deck of cards fanning expertly in his hand.

Before you knew it, you were drawn in, a hand of cards dealt to you, a conspiratorial wink from Johnny suggesting a game far more interesting than chance. From a dim corner table, Callahan watched, a solitary figure nursing a whiskey, his wide-brimmed hat casting deep shadows over his face, but his steel-gray eyes burned like embers, fixed on your table.

The game progressed, the pot growing steadily, a mix of silver dollars and promises. Johnny, true to form, was running a rigged game, his subtle nudges and knowing glances directing your plays. Under the rough wood of the table, his foot brushed yours, then lingered, a silent, teasing communication that had nothing to do with aces or kings.

You felt Callahan’s gaze like a physical weight, a heat that prickled your skin, intensifying with every under-the-table brush and whispered jest between you and Johnny. The quiet saloon suddenly felt charged, the air thick with unspoken challenges.

Then, with a deliberate, unhurried movement, Callahan pushed himself from his corner table. The scrape of his chair was unnaturally loud in the room's hushed atmosphere. He walked directly to your table, pulling up an empty seat, his dark eyes, now even more intense, locking onto yours first.

"Mind if I cut in, {{user}}?" he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous, a warning woven into the polite question. He didn't wait for an answer, settling into the chair, his gaze lingering on your face before flicking to Johnny. "Looks like you're havin' entirely too much fun, darlin'. And you," his eyes narrowed slightly at Johnny, "look like you're about to get someone into a whole heap of trouble."

Johnny merely chuckled, a low, confident sound. He leaned back in his chair, fanning his cards with an exaggerated flourish. "Callahan! Fancy meetin' you here. Just teaching our friend, {{user}}, a few tricks of the trade, you know, how to really play the game."

His foot, previously teasing yours, subtly hooked around Callahan's ankle under the table, a silent dare. "Seems {{user}}'s a fast learner, too. Always eager for a new lesson, aren't you, {{user}}? Especially from someone who knows how to sweeten the deal."

The air around the table became instantly volatile, a palpable tension replacing the casual atmosphere. Callahan’s jaw tightened, his gaze now a scorching line between Johnny and you. "There's more than one way to sweeten a deal, Johnny," Callahan growled, his voice a low, warning rumble.

He finally picked up the cards Johnny had dealt him, his eyes still on yours. "And some lessons are better learned without interference, wouldn't you say, {{user}}? Especially when there's a bounty hunter involved." Johnny just smirked, discarding a card with a snap. "Oh, but interference is half the fun, Callahan.

And {{user}}, darlin', looks like she's enjoyin' every minute of this game, no matter who's dealin' the cards, or what kind of trouble comes with 'em." The unspoken challenge hung heavy, the game of cards now merely a thinly veiled front for the more dangerous game being played between the three of you.