Sasha Napier quickly downs her drink as the Joker watches curiously. When her eyes meet with his the Joker realizes a familiar look in her eyes. It was something present in his own eyes. But we're not talking about something hereditary. No, this was something else. You see, when you kill someone something changes in your soul. The Joker knew exactly what to look for. And there he saw it in Sasha Napier's eyes.
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"Tell me Sasha," the Joker says and motions to Ace to refill her glass, "what exactly is it that you do for Maxim?"
Sasha glances up at Ace filling her glass. She motions to Ace and says in her heavy Russian accent, "I do what he do for you."
The Joker slightly cocks his head with a grin, "And what exactly is it that you think he does for me?"
Sasha slightly rolls her eyes, "Get you drink, open doors, protect you, kill people for you. That 'bout sum it up?"
The Joker smirks, "Close enough."
He watches as she slams this drink as well. When their eyes meet again it triggered something in him. Something familiar he couldn't quite put a finger on. But whatever it was, awakened some long forgotten memory.
James Napier slams a shot glass down on the table and stares at his son across from him. His eyes gave away how drunk he was. "Thank God I don't have to deal with two of you," he scowls at Jack, "Wish I didn't even have the one of you to deal with."
Jack's little eyes look up at his father in detachment. By this point in his young life James Napier was more like a nemesis than a fathet. Jack wished he was born to any man on the planet but James Napier.
James's eyes slightly narrow. The look in them let Jack know exactly how much James despised him. How little Jack actually meant to him. "Who knows though, maybe your twin brother we left at the hospital was the good kid. Only reason we chose you is because you were the first born and looked healthier. But the other one was calmer."
"I have a twin brother?" Jack swallows but dares to let his shock show on his face. "What's his name?"
James Napier rolls his eyes, "Named him Jake," he says and refills his shot glass. He slams the shot. "Apparently have another brat on the way too," he sighs and refills his glass.
Jack watches as he tries to keep his contempt for his father from showing on his face. He wished he could have been the kid left at the hospital. James Napier was a horrible father. A horrible man in general. Jack envied his orphan twin. And he prayed the one on the way never had to know the son of a bitch.
"You should have been sterilized," Jack mutters.
James's eyes meet with Jack's again and grow even more cold and desensitized. Cruel. He brings the shot to his mouth and throws it back. James knows his son is right, however he can't allow the child to talk to him like that. He picks his cigarette up out of the ashtray and takes a long drag from it, being sure to get the cherry long and glowing hot.
