As the months passed, Signe and Jack constantly met in the same bar after their jobs were finished, both happy to relax and swap stories about what happened during their jobs of the day.

Yet when Signe walked into the bar after another long day at work, Jack wasn't there as usual.

"Excuse me, have you seen Jack?" Signe asked the bartender as she laid her black case down by her stool.

The man shrugged in response and slid a water for Signe across the counter, the glass stopping inches from Signe's hand.

"I guess I'll wait here for him." Signe sighed as she sat down, taking a sip of her drink.

It wasn't long until Jack staggered in, his blue suit torn and his right arm covered in blood, his black briefcase held loosely in his other hand.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Signe asked worriedly as she shot off of her stool, rushing over to Jack to help him sit.

"Y-yeah, just fell and cut my arm a bit, I'm fine." Jack answered through gritted teeth.

"I can take you to a hospital-"

"I said I'm fine damnit!" Jack yelled in exasperation, causing Signe to retreat back a step in surprise.

She had never seen Jack angry before until now, his blue eyes burning with rage.

"Sorry, I just...I had a bad day." Jack apologized wearily.

"It's okay, um, I'll get you a drink." Signe offered, motioning for the bartender to make Jack's usual drink.

"What happened to him?" The bartender muttered to Signe as he slid Jack's drink over to her.

"He said he fell." Signe replied as she glanced over at Jack, the Irishman's elbows propped on the counter and his head resting in his hands.

"Must've been a hell of a fall." The bartender remarked, doubt evident in his tone as Signe handed the drink to Jack.

He nodded in appreciation as he took a long swig, quickly downing the drink as if he hadn't had alcohol in years.

As he lifted his arm, Signe saw the sleeve of his suit inch up to reveal a bandage wrapped around his arm soaked with red, the wound still bleeding heavily.

Jack noticed her watching as he set his glass down, his expression shifting to guilt as he hastily pulled his sleeve down.

"I appreciate the drink, but I gotta head back out." Jack spoke up abruptly, grabbing his case before rushing out the door.

Signe watched him leave with a confused frown, part of her wondering why he was acting so secretive.

She shook her head and picked up her own case, paying the bartender before leaving to go home.

When she got home, she delicately laid her case on the table to avoid breaking the equipment inside, her fingers tracing along the silver latches.

"I should clean my camera before tomorrow." Signe thought aloud as she opened the case.

Inside the case wasn't her camera equipment.

Inside was a polished black sniper sitting nearly in a bed of fabric, the scope gleaming in the light.