Here's a new chap with some Sabriel! Enjoy! PS: the title is a reference to a musical named 'Hamilton' (Jefferson coming back saying 'So what did I miss?')

Prompt: "Wait, you've been hired to kill this guy too?!'"AU

So who did I miss?

Sam was lying down on a building's roof, carefully aiming at his target. The 'victim' was a woman, 'dangerous' according to his employer, for she had discovered some information she shouldn't have. As a professional, Sam didn't need those kinds of information; he was cautious enough not to allow himself a single mistake. Never underestimate the one in front of you.

The woman was talking on her phone for ten minutes now. From what he could see, which was already limited by the other roofs, trees and the electric poles, he could tell that she was moving from that one chair next to the fridge to the door next to a desk every four minutes and thirty three seconds, approximately. The humans and their weird habits of walking in circles for hours while talking to someone on a phone... Bad one. That is what will be the cause of her death.

He glanced at his watch. Twenty seconds.

The city was noisy. It was a perfect situation. He smiled as he checked again his angle one last time, just to be sure.

Ten seconds. Six. Three. One.

He pulled the trigger at the very same moment he noticed a kind of flash on his right side – just in his aiming eye's sight. The distraction made him move a little bit, but this 'little bit' grew into a shot displaced from millimeters to centimeters. The woman heard the sound and dropped her phone, screaming. He didn't hear her do that, as he was too far away for that, but he could guess she wasn't singing a very loud and happy song all of a sudden. Well, now she could admire a wonderful hole in her window and her wall. At least, she didn't win one on her chest – or between her eyes.

Sam swore as he was gathering his stuffs. She was surely calling the police, and now moving way too fast between the walls for him to get a proper angle. He had missed his chance, unless he wanted to put an end to his 'discrete and effective' reputation. Even though the 'effective' wasn't exactly the case today.

He had missed his target. He couldn't believe he'd missed it – her. How could he? Now the situation was going to be complicated.

But first things first. He had to understand why and who was responsible for his missing shot. And this person would regret it – oh, so badly. Winchester's word.

"Wow, great gear you've got there, Gigantor."

Sam jumped and turned back, unsheathing the gun on his belt, instantly on a defensive instinct. After all, wasn't it suspect to be caught with a riffle and all an entire assassin's equipment?

"Hey, keep calm, if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead by now."

The guy in front of him was... short. He had a gun, too. He wasn't aiming at him, though. But still, holding it in the hand wasn't making Sam feel safe.

"Who are you?" he asked, but it sounded more like an order than a question.

"No, who are you, you" the man replied.

"I mean, first of all, I discover a dude, coming out of nowhere, on a roof just in front of me, who, as it could appear, is also a sniper, which is, fine, seriously I don't have anything against snipers – I am one myself after all – but, c'mon man, this – this is my target!"

"Excuse me? How could you aim at her when I was engaged to do the job?!"

The man was now smiling – and Sam almost believed he had smirked for a moment, as if amused by all this. What kind of jerk was he talking to?

"Don't take it bad, kiddo, but I had to make you miss. You obviously were going to shoot her, and I couldn't let you. Not that I didn't want her dead but that's my mission, y'see."

This man, oh this man was so getting on his nerves. He tried to remain calm.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Sure. Why not? I'll tell you what; you're cute and all, but this pretty face isn't going to change my mind. Go play somewhere else and let the grown ups do the job, will you?"

Sam winced but didn't answer to his provocations.

"Who are you?"

"Shaking hands wouldn't change anything, Gigantor. Let's say I'm the Trickster. Kind of like the nickname. Is this answer good enough for you?"

"No."

"It should. Anyway, don't come back, next time I wouldn't be that nice with you. I'd appreciate you to step back."

"In your dreams," he gnashed as he fired at him before grabbing his stuffs and fleeing by the emergency staircases.

Even if the element of surprise was a success, he knew the man had made it – he moved very fast, too. He also knew that wasn't the last time he would see him.