Feeling kind of fluffy and these two are so cute it's sickening. Mind the age gap! x)
Disclaimer: Blizzard owns Overwatch. I own nothing. Thanks go to GrimGrave for giving this a read.
—Keep Her Safe—
Pharah entered the mechanical bay with her helmet under her arm. Her flight suit had been freshly waxed and it glinted under the lights as she made her way over to the innermost bay where a young Korean girl was tinkering with a giant pink mech.
"Pharah!" She raced over, leaping on the older woman, and Pharah chuckled as she spun the girl around, careful to mind the suit's incredible strength.
She gave the young woman a squeeze before setting her down. "Hello, Hana. What are you working on today?"
Hana Song, more commonly known as "D. Va" on the battlefield, beamed. Her usual body suit was replaced with a t-shirt and jeans shorts held up by suspenders, the former of which had been tied in a knot to reveal her midsection. It was quite hot in here and Pharah was glad her flight suit was air conditioned. "I had a moment, so I thought I'd soup up my thrusters. Did you need something?"
"No, no. It can wait; just pretend like I'm not here."
That task seemed impossible as the bubbly young woman kept stealing glances while she worked, but Pharah was a patient woman. She perched on a mostly empty work bench, her arm across her knees, and watched with interest as Hana worked. She had to admire that: so young, but so talented.
At some point, the girl donned a metal welding mask and after the sparks, and therefore the noise, had died down, she rounded on the older woman. "Are you sure you don't need some work done?"
This wasn't the first time Hana had hinted that she'd like to get her hands on the flight suit, but Pharah was very particular about who she let handle Helix technology. It wasn't that she didn't trust her girlfriend of six months going on seven, but she took matters of security very seriously. Her mother had always said not to mix business with pleasure.
"Are you trying to get me out of my suit?" she joked, rather than express that sentiment.
Hana, the tease, was quick to close the distance between them and steal a kiss. "Maybe."
"Mm... Have you eaten?"
Her stomach responded with a growl and Hana smiled sheepishly. "I guess I lost track of time."
"Take a flight with me?"
"I'd love to."
This wasn't something she'd normally do, but seeing as Hana loved their flights, Pharah made sure to include her-at least on shorter trips. She held the Korean girl princess style and Hana had her arms looped around her neck.
The display in her helmet obscured the natural beauty of the landscape, reducing it to a more analytical view of fauna density, temperature, and altitude, but Hana was able to appreciate it. If Pharah had had her way, she'd be wearing a helmet as well. Her awed commentary made Pharah chuckled inwardly.
Ah, to be young and impressionable again.
She answered any questions the younger girl asked, but for the most part she monitored the readouts on her suit. Their destination was a small cafe only a few miles from the expansive Overwatch facility grounds. They could have eaten from one of numerous restaurants on site, but it was nice to leave the familiar surroundings behind for new ones. That and she enjoyed showing Hana new things. She had the mind of an inventor: thirsty for new knowledge and experiences.
Hana kissed the underside of her jaw. "You're always so serious; lighten up!"
"As with a car, one should keep their attention on the "road."" She couldn't help but smile, though, with the way Hana was pouting. "We're almost there."
Besides, the sound of the air rushing by wasn't very conductive to conversation.
A few minutes later, Pharah touched down in front of a cozy cottage style building. She gave Hana a moment to regain her bearings before putting her down gently.
"Go on ahead, love, I'm going to change."
"I'll grab us a table."
...
The suit had come a long way from the bulky prototype and Ana had overseen further quality of life improvements—like the ability to digitally store the bulk of the outfit within the protective helmet. With just a few motions, Pharah emerged from the restroom in her civilian clothes, her hair tousled and her helmet under her arm. She made a mental note to start traveling with a backpack as she went to join Hana.
The Korean girl beamed when she saw her. The moment she sat down next to the girl in the booth, Hana was upon her, fixing her hair and remarking how cute her outfit was. The attention was unfamiliar and therefore embarrassing—doubly so when the waitress came to take their orders and, smiling, asked if they needed another minute.
Hana didn't miss a beat, her fingers still combing through dark brown locks as she asked about a menu item that had interested her.
Pharah admired that confidence and comfortableness with oneself more than anything, though her cheeks heated at the knowing look the elderly woman gave them.
When the woman had gone, Hana threaded their fingers together and leaned against her girlfriend. It was still strange thinking that, much less saying it. Girl-friend.
"I was gaming last night and this guy got butthurt when he found out I was a girl. If I had a dollar for every time that happened, I'd be rich."
Pharah arched an eyebrow. "How did he know you were a girl?" She knew the girl played with an alternate gamer tag when she was just goofing around online, partially to avoid being identified and partially because it helped her to play just for fun. Because Pharah had seen Hana at her most competitive and that had been... Interesting to say the least. The mouth on that girl when she got into the zone—she could make a medieval bar wench blush.
Hana smiled sheepishly. "I had my headset on..."
"... And you were gloating," Pharah finished. "Sweetheart, you said you were going to take it easy."
"I am! I mean, it's only a game."
Not with the way she treated it. To the Korean girl, gaming was second-nature—as much an important job as their fighting beneath Overwatch's banner. Pharah had tried to game with her on several occasions, but Hana's competitive streak made it difficult to keep up.
She wasn't much of a gamer, anyway, but she could appreciate a good role playing game every now and then. Hana preferred games with leaderboards and high scores, but Pharah really didn't see the point of shooting people in a virtual space when that was something they did daily in real life.
"You need to work on that, dear."
"I know, I know..."
Their food arrived and the couple was quiet for a time while they ate. Before she had even finished eating, Hana flipped the menu over and started looking at the dessert list and Pharah smiled.
When she noticed the older woman's expression, Hana blew a raspberry. "Did you want to get some practice in when we got back? I want to test how my new shields hold up against your Rocket Barrage."
"You can't utilize your upgrades during fights anyway." Measures had been set in place to ensure that all participants in the Overwatch's carefully regulated battles were on an even playing field. Any against-regulation enhancements were rolled back for the duration of combat-how, Pharah wasn't sure, but she'd love to get her hands on that kind of technology.
"It's just for fun."
"Mhm... Of course, dear. Anything you want."
"Anything?" She glanced at the menu, then back at Pharah and grinned.
Pharah wasn't sure how she maintained such a lithe figure the way she loved snacks-particularly sweets. "See something you like?"
She hadn't meant that in a raunchy way, of course, but the way Hana looked over her made the older woman's face heat.
Just then, Pharah's helmet and the pink and white rabbit pin affixed to the strap of Hana's suspenders blipped simultaneously and they shared a look. The older woman slapped down more than enough money to pay for both their meals, shaking her head curtly when the wide-eyed waitress asked if she needed change. She left quickly, pulling the still-blinking visor down over her eyes, and Hana sighed as she stood and followed Pharah out of the establishment.
"I wanted dessert..."
Pharah kicked off strongly, jumping over a series of bouncing bombs. Her thrusters kept her airborne as she lined up her rocket launcher and returned fire, decimating the crazed, one-legged blond man who had been limping along the network of high walkways. He fell with a cry and she boosted higher to get a better vantage point.
Both teams were milling about, shooting, slashing, and otherwise avoiding being slain as best they could. Her team was on the defensive, which she honestly preferred, and so many of her teammates were of the beefier persuasion. She caught sight of a pink-haired woman swinging her plasma cannon about like a hammer and firing off alternating blasts of hot plasma and protective shields. Her opponent, a masked man draped in black, ghosted away, the barrels of twin shotguns pointed in her direction, and Pharah was quick to intercept.
Zarya grinned when she noticed her aerial support and a moment later, Pharah found herself surrounded by a purplish personal force field. It shimmered and faded when Reaper fired of few rounds, but the deflection was enough for her to be able to finish him off.
"Pharah!"
She smiled thankfully at the Swiss medic who came soaring over, the stream of glowing healing energy that connected them briefly sending a tingling sensation from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.
"Thank you, Mercy."
"Stay safe out there," the blonde chided before fluttering off.
A target appeared on Pharah's visor, locking onto a quick-moving streak of purple and she made a beeline for the Latina hacker. One moment she had her gun trained on Sombra and the next the woman was gone without a trace, cloaked so well that there was no hope of discovering her. The brunette alighted on a rooftop and switched her visor to thermal view, hoping to pinpoint the woman, but no dice.
After a full minute of fruitless searching, Pharah took off, flying high—
"Apagando las luces!"
—only to have a warning flash across her screen as her engines stalled. She dropped like a stone, gritting her teeth as she braced for impact. She must have shut her eyes because next thing she knew, a hand grabbed hers and she found herself moving rapidly forward with their momentum. She opened an eye: D. Va grinned down at her, somehow managing to steer her mech with just one hand as she boosted.
"I got you, babe."
Her chest tightened as the younger girl veered towards the nearest rooftop. After giving her hand a warning squeeze, D. Va released Pharah so that the woman could tuck and roll into a much less painful landing. By the time she had straightened, the pink mech was halfway across the battlefield, opening fire on a curvaceous young woman in full snow gear who was manipulating ice into a protective wall.
The rest of the battle went without incident, despite multiple attempts from the cunning hacker to shut Pharah down.
Fool me once...
Pharah blinked as an orb of golden energy bobbed lazily past. Her gaze narrowed as she registered, just a millisecond too late, what she was looking at. A husky female voice called something in a foreign language and a beam of pure energy shot across the battlefield, blinding in its brilliance. Pharah took to the air to avoid it, but she saw that Zarya and Mercy weren't so fortunate. Without the Russian's brawn, she and the battleworn cowboy, McCree, were sitting ducks.
Then, like a hero on a pink, mechanical horse, D. Va came boosting forward, her personal shield raised. It wasn't until the mech hurtled right past them that Pharah realized it was unmanned and she immediately looked around for its pilot. An explosion rocked the ground and McCree gripped his hat as the resulting rush of hot air threatened to snatch it off his head.
Everything went quiet and still.
Hana strolled over calmly in its wake, a bright pink bubble blown between pursed lips, and Pharah breathed a sigh of relief. Her risky kamikaze strategy had saved their asses on multiple occasions, but that didn't make her comfortable with it. She almost embraced Hana before remembering herself and settled for giving the girl a thumbs up.
The time displayed on the giant sign board that overlooked their arena was on its final ten seconds. With the enemy team taken care of and no way for them to make it over to the defense point in time to contest her team's possession of it, they just needed to rest easy and let the timer run out.
Five seconds.
A newly revived Zarya and Mercy joined them, grinning wearily.
Four seconds.
"Good job out there," McCree said.
Pharah nodded her thanks, but her gaze was on Hana. Her smile was infectious and, when she noticed her girlfriend's gaze, she waved and smiled even wider.
Three seconds.
A small red dot appeared on Hana's jumpsuit, just over her breast. No one else seemed to notice, but Pharah's stomach sank and she suddenly felt sick.
There was no time to warn the girl—just to act.
Two seconds...
Pharah crumpled, pain radiating from her back and blossoming beneath her breast. She had enough presence of mind to twist as she fell, pulling Hana on top of her rather than crushing her. She couldn't die, but that knowledge didn't prevent the adrenaline rush that made her heart rate escalate or her vision to narrow into a pinprick. Every individual beat hurt. She heard faintly the voices of her teammates anxiously calling her name before everything went black.
Victory!
Pharah stirred, dark eyes opened slowly. She was at once aware of the acute pain that snaked its way through her entire torso and she groaned softly. She had faded in and out of consciousness while her flight suit had been pried off of her and it seemed the medical team had managed to inflict more damage in doing so.
She struggled into a sitting position, mindful of the bandages that had been wound around her midsection—
"Fareeha!" Hana latched onto the woman, nearly knocking her over and subsequently aggravating her wounds. She was quick to release Pharah at her pained hiss. "Omigosh, sorry...!"
"It's fine..." Pharah leaned against the girl when she embraced her much more carefully. "Please don't call me that; only my mother uses my first name."
"But it's cute."
"I'm too old to be cute."
Hana scoffed and pinched her cheek, to which the older woman rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"Are you okay?" Hana asked, sobering immediately as she looked her partner over.
"I've been worse."
"Fareeha," a stern voice said. Speak of the Devil.
Hana quickly released her and took a guilty step backwards. Ana knew about them, of course—who didn't?—but that didn't make it any easier to behave like a couple in front of the imposing woman.
"Hello, Miss Song. May I have a moment alone with my daughter?"
Hana shot her an apologetic look before leaving the infirmary.
"I don't approve of you endangering yourself for that child. Not only were you injured—the flight suit needs serious repairs. While the latter can be replaced, my daughter cannot."
"It's a few bruises, Mother. I'll be fine."
"And what if you hadn't been so fortunate?" Ana's dark gaze was harder than Pharah had ever seen it. "Defense is not your duty on the battlefield. Leave that to those better suited for it."
"..." She understood where Ana was coming from. Truly. There was no easy way for a mother to stop treating their child as anything but—no matter the age. "I couldn't let Hana get hurt. No matter what the personal cost, I care about her and I will keep her safe."
Ana sighed. "Stubborn as a mule..."
"I learned from the best." A woman who had clung to life despite a debilitating injury and come back from an assumed death.
She was smiling now. Just a bit. "Please take care of yourself, Fareeha."
"I will, Mother."
...
Hana was asleep in her bed by the time Pharah returned to her room. Mercy had warned her to take it easy and to "tell the little miss that you need your rest."
Just what did people think they were up to when they were alone together?!
Pharah got carefully into bed beside Hana. She ran a hand through dark locks, smiling when the younger girl cuddled into her. Her side smarted as a result, but she didn't comment as she wrapped her arms around the young woman.
"Hello, sleepy head."
"Mm... Five more minutes..."
"Are you sleep talking?" She flicked the tip of Hana's nose and was charmed by the way the girl hid her face in her shoulder. "You could probably sleep through an earthquake, my love."
Pharah waited patiently, petting the Korean girl until she finally awakened enough to croak, "Fareeha?"
Pharah made a face and Hana blinked a few times. She seemed more awake as she cupped the older woman's cheek. "Does that really bother you?"
"Somewhat."
"Why?" Damn those large, innocent eyes.
"Pharah is the flight suit-wearing warrior; strong enough to escape even the bounds of gravity. She's the woman you've fallen for." Hana gave her hand a squeeze and smiled encouragingly. "Fareeha is the woman who is still under her mother's thumb—too timid to speak out, though she knows she should. She dons the flight suit because she is nothing without it." Saying it aloud was surprisingly difficult and dark eyes welled up with frustrated tears.
Hana kissed her softly. "I care about you. Doesn't matter if your Pharah, Fareeha, or Ms. Amari."
"..." Now her chest ached for an entirely different reason and she had to look away to prevent the raw emotion from spilling out. Even still, she cleared her throat a few times before being able to say, in an even tone, "I picked up something for you from the cafeteria."
Hana perked up and her searching gaze soon alighted on the doggy bag Pharah had set on the nightstand. She tore into it, revealing an individually wrapped, generous serving of cheesecake drizzled with strawberry sauce and squealed.
"You're going to share this with me, right?"
Pharah indulged the younger girl and allowed herself to be fed as she reclined against her headboard, her side aching dully, but the sweetest treat was the lingering kiss with which Hana thanked her.
—Fin—