Cold, weary and distraught, Lena pulled herself up from the damp and harsh alley, limping to a wall, to lean against, her head swarming with thoughts of the recent scuffle. She had just witnessed the assassination of -, a presidential leader, a peace maker and a source of hope for people all around the globe. As if this wasn't enough, she had been slammed and shot at multiple times by one of the leading assassins from Talon, Amelie, otherwise known as 'Widowmaker'. Her eyes were a pale gold that shone with the fury of a thousand suns when inspected. Her body was slim and graceful, and her skin a pale blue. A true femme fatale. Her hair, her curves, her voice….Lena knew she shouldn't succumb to these thoughts, yet it seemed, so right, in a way. 'Cheri?' Lena recounted the last words of Amelie. 'Why would she call me that, we've only just met...' Lena then realised. Amelie must have the same feeling. A burn in your heart that is unmistakeable, and controls your body. The feeling of…desire. 'How could she do this?' Lena angrily whispered to herself. 'How can she hurt both my body and my heart at the same time?' Lena slowly began to slide down the wall, putting both her hands over her face. At this moment, 'Widowmaker' could have come back to kill Lena, or to do something even more 'scandalous', and Lena wouldn't care. Amelie had left her helpless and defenceless.

She was perfectly dangerous.

A dangerous woman.

A whirr was heard behind Amelie, as she stepped off of the Talon platform, and with silence, slinked away. Talon agents were swarming in and out of places, yet stepped away from Amelie as she opened the door to her room. Once shutting the door behind her, she sat on the bed. A large sigh escaped her mouth, as she flopped onto the bunk. Her head and feet were killing her. She threw off her shoes, and crumpled up on her bed. Her head was hoarded of thoughts; that girl…she was…incredible. She could travel through time. Amelie was an assassin, but she never saw her coming. Her hair, short and brunette, with beautiful hazel eyes that shone through her goggles. She seemed very powerful, and…Amelie would never admit this to anyone…the girl looked extremely 'toned' from behind. Amelie had gotten 'quite the view' from the fight earlier. She felt something strange. Her hands began to shake, along with her torso. She hadn't shaken like that since her reconditioning. Her hand quickly darted to her chest, to feel for her pulse. It began to…speed. How was this possible? She thought about the girl, and suddenly, she felt like there were millions of spiders, or more likely, butterflies, writhing inside her. Her heart began to beat faster, as she rushed to her computer, to just find something, anything, about the girl. 'Lena Oxton, otherwise known as 'Tracer', a member of Overwatch, situated in England', she read to herself, quiet not to wake the other agents. She left her computer, and situated herself against her wall. She…she…she was all Amelie needed. Lena, 'Tracer', was what she craved. What she lusted after, what she had been missing. Amelie, at that moment would have given anything to see Lena, in her room, to talk, to find out more about her, 'personal information'…Amelie awoke from her fantasy. 'How did she do this? I'm unlovable!' Amelie muttered, resenting herself for falling for the girl. Lena, she had…made her feel things thought to be impossible. At that moment Widow realised what Lena was.

She was perfectly dangerous.

A dangerous woman.