Jack opened the door, already dressed in his crisp white shirt and lavender jacket. He looked less uncomfortable in the strange clothes than he had, but still a little stiff, and as he nodded his greeting to Sinclair, he tugged at his collar as if it was choking him.

His wrench was, as ever, tucked into the back of his belt, the deep orange-red contrasting painfully with the purple of the jacket.

"Hi. Let's get this over with."