Hi. Long time no see. I've just come out of a long period. Let's say my will to write was not very strong. Reading the las OW comic sparkled that will back. I'm literally writing this on the go, so I've got nearly no idea how this story will evolve. Okay, not entirely true, I have a plot. But it's just the bare bones. Anyway here's the start hope you enjoy
The air is cold. Snow is falling around, covering every stone with white.
Amélie is standing in front of a particular tomb, her freezing glare fixated on the name carved into the stone.
Her long, dark coat is covering her whole body. Not that she's feeling particularly cold, but she couldn't help but feeling naked in that place with her usual off duty clothes.
Besides, it helps from getting attention.
And here I am. Seems like you can't just leave me alone.
Amélie feels the letters are staring into her very soul, if she still has one.
Very slowly, she drops a rose on the tomb sweeping away some of the snow.
Lacroix. That used to be her surname. The surname that her husband had given her. The husband that she killed in cold blood in their very bed.
"Gerard."
She can't even finish whispering before a piercing pain fills her chest.
Nearly collapsing on the ground, Amélie grabs her chest, grasping at her heart, trying to tear it away from her.
It hurts. It hurts so much.
*Ba-dump*
A single, powerful heartbeat rips her whole being. For a second, Amélie is overwhelmed by a mixture of weird sensations.
I am...feeling?!
In an instant, her fear, anguish, sorrow and hate vanish, leaving the old Widowmaker gasping.
I shouldn't have come here.
With a last glance at the tomb, Amélie walks away from the cemetery, firmly holding the small gun hidden in her pocket, trying to keep away a weird sensation in the deepest corners of her head.
"'twas nice, wasn't it?"
Tracer is happily zipping around Emily, the two girls walking back home.
"Yes indeed. Who knew Winston was such a skilled cook?"
With a final jump Lena throws her arm around Emily's shoulders, squeezing her close.
"What are you doing?"
"It's cold. Don't you want to warm up?"
The read headed girl smiles and kisses Lena on her cheek.
The streets are lit with Christmas decorations, restaurants and pubs full of people celebrating the holidays.
"I could really use a pint right now."
"Are you serious? We drank three whole bottles of wine early."
"Yes well, that was wine, not beer."
Both chuckling, the girls slowly cross Millennium Bridge.
The Thames is dirty as ever, with few boats surfing its waters.
Lena lets out a loud laugh.
This is the best Christmas ever!
"What is it?"
Tracer turns, facing her girlfriend.
"Nothing luv. I love you."
Emily blushes, then leans on.
"Can you at least stop giggling while we kiss?"
"I'm sorry luv."
Soon they reach that familiar street.
"Lena dear, do you have the keys? I can't find'em."
"Yes, sure. Comin' right up."
With a burst of her cronal accelerator Lena opens the doorway and makes room for Emily.
"This way m'lady."
"Oh, what a charming prince!"
The girl laughs as she walks in, quickly pushing the elevator button.
Lena turn to the street, inhaling a last breath of cold air before joining Emily.
Wait a sec. What?
Freezing on her steps, Tracer scans the deserted street.
Sounds and lights from other apartments are the only activity she detects.
I'd swear there was a black thingie in that corner...
"Is something the matter Lena?"
"Nah, must've been a cat or somethin'"
Shrugging, the ex pilot enters the elevator and hugs Emily.
"Merry Christmas." She says.
"Merry Christmas to you."