Jack was obviously in a bad mood, because the two went through five straight shots of vodka before he said anything other than “Drink.” Finally, his words slightly slurred, he asked, “Why don’t you ever smile?”

Sam shrugged and filled his glass. In his past life as Lost Horizon, he had a high tolerance for alcohol. It was part of the job. Clients and higher-ups expected it, but he also had to maintain a constant awareness, so being a functional drunk was a must. As the Magpie, he never drank. He was too cautious to willingly dull his senses and lower his inhibitions. It wasn’t worth the possible consequences, consequences that could be deadly. Plus, he couldn’t imagine the damage he’d already done to his liver. Now, as Sam, his tolerance was much lower, and he was already feeling a bit tipsy.

“I don’t know how to smile,” he replied, staring into the clear liquid.

He was an honest drunk, so now he was also feeling a bit honest, but his survival instincts outweighed everything else. For longer than he could remember, he had one goal in life – to stay alive. No amount of alcohol could make him forget that, so his identity was never in danger. Still, if he could answer a question as both the Magpie and Sam, he would. He wanted to.

With a frown, Jack pulled his glass away before he had a chance to drink. “Smiling’s just... smiling. It isn’t something you know. It’s something you do.”

“Then I don’t do it.” He grabbed the liquor back and downed it, slamming the empty glass on the table.

“Never?” Shock and disbelief were expected, but there was something else in Jack’s eyes that didn’t match either of those. “Have you ever smiled?”

Sam shook his head. It felt light and he slumped forward over the island, propping himself up on his elbows. There wasn’t a single memory in his hazy mind that even resembled that kind of expression. “Don’t think so.”

Pouring himself a shot, Jack took it quickly, then let out a long sigh. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I mean, who’s never smiled?” Jack spit back, continually growing louder. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the alcohol and his own irritation. Sam gestured for him to lower the volume. “Everyone smiles,” he continued, the response a whisper after being scolded. Sam almost huffed at how childish it was. “It’s an emotional response. It just happens.”

“I’m not emotional.”

Leaning closer, Jack stared, his green eyes intense and a frown still plastered on his face. “Nope. I don’t believe you.”

“Okay.”

Sam poured himself another shot, but Jack pulled it away again and gulped. It made him cough and Sam let out a heavy breath. What was he doing here, babysitting this drunk twenty-something, and why was he answering these pointless questions?

“You’re frustrating," Jack choked out, pointing a finger as if there was anyone else in the room. "How do your friends deal with you?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Because you’re frustrating.”

Sam only nodded in agreement. It was mostly the paranoia that came with constantly maintaining a secret identity, but if his life was normal, his personality would definitely get in the way. Not that he ever wanted friends. All relationships, no matter how small, were a hassle.

“So, in thirty years, you’ve never once smiled.”

The repetition was getting annoying and he was really missing that stolen drink. “Not that I remember,” he breathed out, hoping he didn’t have to say it again.

“So frustrating.” There was a pause and Jack turned to stare at him again. “But, interesting...”

Sam met the surprisingly focused gaze and pulled his head back in surprise. There was a new something different in his expression, consuming those deep pools of green. Something he had never seen before and couldn’t read. It made him uncomfortable, but he found himself stuck, unable to look away. After what seemed like an eternity, Jack sighed and looked out into the dark kitchen.

“Anyway,” he said, less dramatic now, twirling the empty shot glass with his fingers. “I like that you’re frustrating. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so Sam stared out into the darkness with him. They both sat in silence for a while until he finally gave in and acknowledged the real reason they were downing a bottle of vodka in the middle of the night.

“Why are you so upset?” He wasn’t one to ask people questions, not unless he was intentionally searching for information, but he was sure Jack wanted someone to talk to and wouldn’t make the first move.

Jack let out another long sigh, then glanced at him, as if he was trying to decide how much to tell. “Living in a small town is... difficult.” It was the word that came out, but not the one he wanted. His glance became a stare and Sam looked down at his hands to avoid it. “People are petty and judgmental. And some are just mean.”

He went to pour another shot, but Sam stopped him, pulling both glass and bottle away. “Enough.”

“It must be nice to live in a city,” Jack continued, now picking at the wooden island instead of the glass. “People are more accepting. Or they just don’t give a shit.”

“People are assholes everywhere.”

There was a chuckle from Jack, his first real laugh of the night. That one sound alone lifted a large weight from Sam’s chest, one he hadn’t realized was there until now. “Maybe. But it’s still okay to be different. Here, there’s only normal and not normal.”

“People in town seem to like you.” Turning to find him still staring, Sam flinched again, quickly looking away.

“Only because I’m always friendly and smiling. It’s exhausting.” Jack chuckled again, this time cold and bitter. “But for some people, it doesn’t matter what I do.”

Sam took a breath and looked to the side, meeting the stare with a frown. His earlier irritation had grown, but something else was causing it now - some vague source he couldn't quite pinpoint. “Are you being bullied?”

“What?”

“For being gay. Are you being bullied?” Drunk honesty.

“WHAT?”

Sam groaned, done with the back and forth. He was tired and his head was fuzzy and starting to ache. He just wanted Jack to say it and get it over with. “That’s why you’re upset. You’re gay in a small town, and people treat you badly.” Jack sat in stunned silence for a while, and he groaned again. “What are you staring at?”