Sam frowned, leaning against the railing a little to focus on Jack. A shadow of concern etched it's way across his face. "Do you think that something might have happened to him?" There was always the possibility that Jack was overreacting, but this was Los Angeles. Sometimes, with the things that he and Jack knew, there were certain situations where they couldn't take anything for granted. If Jack honestly felt like something was wrong with his friend, then it shouldn't have been something to ignore. People died all the time. They were abducted, they were tortured, they were killed. Sam wasn't going to raise that point to Jack when she was sure that he was already damn well aware of what went on in this city, but he wasn't trying to make it worse for him.
Sam offered him the gun. "It's nothing. I've been shootin' since I was a kid." He grinned a little. "Funny how my last name is Winchester, isn't it?" Sam was better at hitting stilled objects. He could do those with his eyes closed. It was the moving targets that were far more tricky for everyone. He was good, but he wasn't perfect. Besides, Sam was more used to hitting things that vanished every time they took a blow. Shooting down regular targets was...interesting in comparison, to say the least. They didn't come back after being shot at. "I'm sure you're a pretty damned good shot yourself. You don't need tips."