In Another Life IV

Chapter 4

"I got good news and I got bad news for you, Jack," said Mr. Napier, a few days later, as his son entered his study. "Sit down."

Jack obeyed without a word. His father was reading a newspaper, and casually smoking his usual cigarette. Jack knew better than to interrupt him, despite the fact that he had called him in here, and the minutes ticked by in silence.

Mr. Napier put down the paper at last. "The good news is the little brat will be outta your hair soon," he said, smiling at him. "I've met with her father, and we're doing this heist tomorrow night. Which brings me to the bad news, which is that you ain't coming on it."

"What?" demanded Jack. "Why? I've proved I'm ready time and time again – give me a chance, Dad..."

"Give me a chance, sir," corrected Mr. Napier.

"Sir, please just listen to me!" hissed Jack, standing up. "I am ready to take part in a real heist! I'm sick of being just some heavy – I wanna be part of the action..."

"Now Jack, someone has to watch the kid," said Mr. Napier. "And think how I would feel if my only son took part in a dangerous operation like this, and got hurt, or even killed. Don't you have any regard for my feelings?"

"You can't have any for mine if you insist on holding me back from real crimes!" snapped Jack. "I'm ready now, and you can't hold me back any longer..."

Rage in Joseph Napier was swift and brutal. Before Jack knew what hit him, his father had grabbed him around the throat, slamming his face into the wall. "Now you listen to me, you little bastard!" he hissed, in a low, dangerous voice. "You will do whatever the hell I tell you to do, or I'll get rid of you the same way I got rid of your whore of a mother! You think you're such a big man now, doncha, kid, just because I give you a gun and let you hang around with the gang? But you ain't! You're just a little boy, and I can make you do whatever I wanna. Don't you ever forget that!"

He released his son's throat. "Now get the hell out," he muttered, sitting back down and returning to his paper.

Jack cupped his bleeding nose, breathing heavily in rage, as he left without another word. The moment he was outside, he punched his fist through the neighboring wall. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed. He headed outside to pace angrily and smoke through a whole packet of cigarettes before returning to the room where Harleen was being held.

He opened the door. The room appeared to be empty. "Harley?" he called. There was no response.

Jack was suddenly afraid his father had done something something horrible to her. "Harley?" he repeated, beginning to panic as he started hunting under the furniture.

He heard a giggle, and then something leapt on his back, covering his eyes with its hands. "Guess who?" said a familiar voice.

Jack let out a sigh of relief. "Hmm...who could it be?" he thought aloud, standing up and adjusting Harleen so she was riding piggyback. She kept her hands over his eyes. "Is it the Joker?"

"Nah uh," she giggled.

"Is it Harleen Frances Quinzel?"

"Nope," she said. "Close."

"Hmm...oh, I know! It's Harley Quinn, the Joker's little sidekick!" he said, smiling.

"She's his partner," corrected Harleen. "They're equals."

"Nah, she ain't as funny as he is," replied Jack, grinning.

"She is too!" snapped Harleen, dropping to the ground. "She just has a different sense of humor!"