A/N: This fic would not be possible without the amazing a href=" "littletoughpuff/a because it was her amazing headcannons and ideas that inspired this story and a lot of its characterizations. Please visit her blog, it is worth your time.

It is worth mentioning that I'm going to be "playing around" with cannon, and only working with the bits of the lore that I like. You know, like a usual fanfic writer. I hope to include all the characters, a lot of side stories, and a ton of ships. (God, give me the strength.)

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It's 8:30 in the morning, half of Lena's face is covered in peanut butter, and Fareeha is being a shit.

Lena knows it's 8:30 am because her alarm clock is the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. She knows half of her face is covered in peanut butter because nowadays she just assumes when she wakes up half of her face will be covered in something, and peanut butter has a distinct smell when you've slept in it. As for Fareeha being a shit, that she's deduced from the angry Swiss lady to her left.

Angela Ziegler is perched on her own bed with her back towards Lena, jerkily making adjustments to the breast piece of her suit. She's muttering fiercely in German, and Lena has been around long enough to recognize the phrase cocky little brat.

Lena yawns and stretches, glancing down to make sure that the accelerator hasn't twisted oddly during the night. A tap to its side switches it out of low power mode, and the blue light brightens with a soft whirring noise. She rolls over to face Angela. "Mornin' doc, what's the damage today?"

"I do not understand why she refuses to listen. It's not as though she's unintelligent!" Angela spats, ranting as though this has been an ongoing conversation.

"Mmhmm…" Lena hums, only half listening. She slides a finger down her peanut butter covered cheek and pops it in her mouth because why the hell not.

"I have been very understanding, I don't ask for much, just that she follows my instructions!"

"'Course ya do." Lena lifts the covers to discover that yes, she managed to make it to bed with pants on. Good for her.

"I only have one job on this damned team and if that little dumm fuhrt doesn't start listening to me, Ich schwöre bei Gott—"

"Oi, slow down there, love. Don't wanna work yourself into a fever."

Angela's head snaps around to give Lena a death glare over her shoulder. Lena quickly holds up her hands up to show she's backing down. "Alrighty then, suit yourself."

Angela goes back to grumbling under her breath. Lena smiles to herself and hauls her tired body out of bed. She can probably guess why Angela and Fareeha are fighting again. It most likely has something to do with Fareeha hiding an injury or avoiding medical, and then Angela eventually and inevitably noticing said injury. Things never proceed positively from there.

Hana has a running betting poll on wether they're going to fight it out or hump it out. Lúcio has money on fighting, while Lena put down some on humping. She likes to think of herself as an optimist.

Having Fareeha on the team after working with her mom is strange, to say the least. Lena had never been too close to Ana Amari, but she certainly respected her. From what she could remember of her, she never talked much about her daughter. Fareeha is an excellent member of Overwatch, and easily meets all expectations. However, where Ana was careful and precise, Pharah is reckless and brash. She's more than willing to charge ahead in battle, but consequently she's the team's weakest link when it comes to avoiding injury, and that's said with Tracer in-mind.

As Lena changes into sweats and goes through her morning bathroom routine, she starts to think about all the ways Overwatch has changed since its start. Back in the good ol' days—as Winston likes to call them—they had a sense of purpose. Their cause to put an end to the Omnic crisis was righteous enough to motivate through the darkest of times. Now, they're facing unknown forces and villains. They don't have the support they used to, and with all Overwatch activities made illegal, they're practically operating in the dark. The base they're currently using is a sort of giant cargo helicarrier, cloaked in Winston's camo technology so as to avoid government scanners.

One thing that hasn't changed is that Lena and Angela still share a room. In the past it was because they were the youngest female members of Overwatch, though that was back when people still gave a shit about genders and ages in shared spaces. Now it has more to do with their lifestyles fitting together. Lena is manic where Angela is precise, and the chaos of clothes and books is usually calmed by Angela's organized system of de-cluttering. Every once in a while Lena puts up a poster of some lewd female model on Angela's side, just to see her blush and immediately tear it down.

(And if every other night Lena wakes up screaming to find Angela at her side to offer comfort, well, that's just an added perk of the living arrangement.)

As Lena exits her room she immediately bumps into Mei, who's dressed in workout sweats and looks twitchy.

"Woah there, what's the rush?" Lena asks, putting her hand on Mei's shoulder to slow her down.

Mei glances behind her before looking up at Lena with wide eyes. "Oh, no, you must understand, I love Zarya to death, and I appreciate how she's willing to help me in my workout routine, but…" Her left eye twitches. "I just can't anymore! How can she do all those reps without dying every morning?!"

Lena bites her lip to keep from laughing. Whenever Mei gets flustered or upset, her face puffs up and turns red, making her look like a squishy little rage tomato. "Have you mentioned this to her?"

Mei shakes her head frantically. "Oh no! No no no, I can't do that! I don't want to hurt her feelings!"

"Mei, love, you're not hurting her feelings when you—"

"Oh no, here she comes!" Mei panics at the sound of nearby heavy footsteps. She hurries away with more speed than Lena has ever seen her use in combat.

Winston lumbers around the corner. He's wearing his pin-striped pajamas, and his glasses are slightly askew. He's munching on a bowl of granola.

He gives Lena a confused look and cranes his neck to look over her shoulder, granola dribbling out of his mouth. "Was that Mei who just ran off?"

"Yeah, she thought you were Zarya."

Winston frowns for a moment, then shrugs, once again deciding it's none of his business what these wacky kids are doing with each other. "Team meeting in a half hour, gather in the lounge."

"Aye aye, sir!" Lena says with a cheeky salute, knowing it will make him wince. Winston claims he hates being referred to as any kind of Mr. or Sir, but Lena has seen him preen like a bird when his fellow scientists give him titles.

He points a warning finger at her. "You better show up on time. We don't want a repeat of the last meeting."

Lena laughs and quickly blinks to his side. "I'm always on time!" She chirps, picking a bit of granola out of his fur.

Winston squints at her face. "Is that my peanut bu—"

Lena hurriedly blinks away. "Gotta go tell the others about that meeting!"

"Oh for God's sake—no blinking in the base!"

"Sorry mate, can't hear you over all the blinking!" Lena calls over her shoulder, already running towards the mess hall.

She skids around corners and dodges people passing. Zenyatta happily moves out of her way with a pleasant "Good morning," while Torbjörn lets out a yelp and mutters something dark under his breath about reckless children misusing their tech. Lena reaches the mess hall at top speed, darting through the room to reach the table at the back where Hana and Lúcio are already seated. She narrowly avoids crashing into them by blinking into an empty seat, with her legs on the table and her arms behind her head as if it was all totally planned.

Lúcio slowly turns his head away from his cereal to stare at her with tired eyes. "Do you ever stop moving?" He deadpans.

"Nope! What's the grub like today?"

"Fareeha's cooking," Hana says, not looking up from her portable game. She's sitting cross legged on top of the table, looking bored as her fingers fly over the buttons.

Lena perks up. "Fareeha? Nice! Where's the—"

"She's mad at the doc."

"Oh. Right." Lena swivels in her seat to look back at the kitchen, where she can hear swearing and the banging of pots and pans. She watches as Genji approaches the door, hesitates, then turns and hurriedly walks away. Lena sighs. Whenever Fareeha is upset, her usually amazing kitchen skills dwindle down to violent tantrums which result in burned messes, which she still proceeds to stubbornly eat.

A few blinks and Lena has nabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the buffet-style counter. Angela likes to keep it well stocked to encourage healthy eating. Lena likes to add several extra bunches of bananas every now and then to annoy a certain overstressed gorilla.

Hana grabs the apple from her before she can get a bite, and takes a huge chunk out of it with a smug little smile.

"Ain'tcha gonna take a picture of that first? Can't disappoint your fans," Lena teases.

Hana ignores her and focusses on her game. Lena snorts and turns to Lúcio to make a joke, but it dies in her mouth when she gets a good look at him. Lúcio is slow to wake, and he usually spends his mornings trudging around the base with his headphones on, but today he looks utterly exhausted. He's slowly spinning his spoon in his cereal with a blank stare, seemingly dead to the world. Lena leans in to see what he's listening to, only to discover silence.

"Rough night," Hana answers her unspoken question.

Lena looks back and forth between them. Hana and Lúcio share a room—much to the annoyance of McCree in the next room over—and the two are very close. If something's going on, Hana would know about it.

Lena opens her mouth to ask, but Hana shakes her head. She slowly puts down her game and starts to sign with her hands. His mother called last night.

Lena's eyebrows shoot up under her bangs. She quickly signs back. Trouble?

Hana winces. Yes. She wants him home.

Big trouble? Overwatch might need to step in if things are heating up too much in Rio. We could help—

The same trouble.

Yeah, that's honestly to be expected. Lúcio has done a lot to help his hometown escape from Vishkar's control, but most of Brazil is still recovering from the Omnic Crisis. Lena keeps wondering if Overwatch should intervene, but they have enough on their plates with Talon as it is. Things have gotten bad enough that Lúcio decided to put his music tour on hold and volunteer to be a part of the recall initiative, which he heard about through underground chains. Lena knows that stopping his tour had been a hard decision for him to make.

Wondering how Lúcio responded to his mother's phone call, Lena starts to sign, How did he—

"You know I can see you two talking about me. Like, I can actually see it."

Lena winces and turns to Lúcio, who's giving her a knowing look. "Sorry, I was worried."

"Hmph! She has a right to be! Look at you, sitting at breakfast all zombie-like," Hana scolds him.

Lúcio raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching. "Oh, like you're so much better. Only been awake for what, two hours? And you're already face deep in a screen."

"At least I'm not wearing headphones without any music playing."

Lúcio blinks and slowly takes off his headphones. "I, uh, I knew that."

"Uh-huh."

"It's part of my look."

"Sure it is."

"It's like that face paint you wear."

Hana leans forward to jut a finger in his face. "Watch it butt-brain, or you're gonna wake up one morning with a full on facial. I'm talking fake lashes and everything."

Lúcio smiles and leans in. "Bring it, nerd."

"Allllright then, let's just take a deep breath and maybe—"

"Shut up, Lena," they both snap at once. Lena falls back in her chair with a pout, crossing her arms under her accelerator.

"You know, one of these days you're going to teach me that sign language of yours, and then I'm gonna be a part of all your secret conversations."

Hana laughs. "As if you could keep quiet for more than two seconds! Sign language is with your hands, not your big fat mouth!"

Lena rolls her eyes. Honestly, it's not like either of them are that good at signing anyway. Hana had grown up learning Korean sign language from her grandmother, and Lena had learned British sign language as part of her pilot training. (Lena suspects the course was mostly for promotional purposes.) When Hana joined Overwatch and they discovered their slightly shared knowledge, they attempted to learn American sign language together. They're both rather shaky at it, but it's something to bond over.

In the middle of their squabbling, Lena catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She watches as Fareeha slowly comes out the kitchen, head held high and toting a bowl of something brown and chunky. Of course, Angela chooses this exactly moment to enter the mess hall. Their eyes meet across the room and they stare at each other for a moment. Everyone around them sort of freezes. A few even shift as if they might have to physically intervene. No one breaths for a good five seconds. The tension's broken when McCree walks right between the two of them, reading something off a tablet and chewing on a banana, clearing not giving a fuck about whatever's going down. Angela's the first to break eye contact. She marches towards an empty table as if nothing is wrong, though Lena notices a certain extra sway in her hips. Fareeha turns away with a scowl and leaves the mess hall entirely. Lena can't hold back a snort. They're both so dramatic, honestly, it's hilarious.

"So, where exactly are you gonna sleep when they start mashing it up, Lena?" Lúcio asks, for all the world seeming as though he's back to his cheerful self.

Lena plays along with a drawn out sigh. "Gee, I dunno. They could always move to Fareeha's room—"

"Nah, I've heard Zarya snores like a bear."

"You would know, Hana."

"Shove it up your ass, froggy."

"The point is," Lena cuts in before they can start up again, "Angie knows I wouldn't stand for any sort of lewd behavior near my person. They ain't messing about in my room."

Hana smiles and leans forward to rest her chin on her hands. "Oh really? And you haven't partaken in any sort of lewd behavior lately?"

"Nope," Lena says, popping the "p".

"Really." Hana doesn't look convinced.

"Yeah, I've been giving myself a break."

"Woah woah, wait a second," Lúcio holds out his hands like this is the news of the century. "So you're telling me that there've been no girls, no drunken little hookups, nothing?"

Lena leans further back in her chair so that only two legs are balanced on the ground. "Hard to believe, I know, but ol' Oxton has to give the birds a rest every now and then. I can only ruffle a few feathers at a time, don't wanna end up with a string of heartbreaks behind—FUCK!"

Lúcio had kicked the legs of her chair out from under her. She blinks into another chair before she can hit the ground, but the idiot's already cackling.

She glares at him. "Yeah, go on and laugh. Just wait 'til I tell Winston about Ireland."

Lúcio sobers up immediately. "Bro, you promised."

"Ireland? Wait, what happened in Ireland?" Hana asks, scooting forward.

"Nothing anyone can prove," Lúcio says while maintaining eye contact with Lena.

Lena hums thoughtfully. "Think I know of a certain pub owner who would say otherwise."

"Tell meeee!" Hana begs.

"Oh no, it's not for young ears." Lena gives her a pat on the head.

Hana gasps. "Is it sex? I bet it's sex! Lúcio, did you have sex?"

Lúcio throws his hands up the air. "Seriously? Why would that be such a big surprise?!"

"Cuz' you got no game."

"Excuse you, I've got plenty of game."

"You're wearing sweats that say 'Eat Me' on the butt."

"Your point being…?"

Lena's stomach rumbles a bit, reminding her that she has yet to have eaten anything. Now that the kitchen's safe, she might as well rush in and grab something before the meeting—

"Christ!" Both Hana and Lúcio twitch when Lena blinks to her feet. She gives them a crazed look. "There's a meeting in five, in the lounge!" She's gone before they can open their mouths.

Lena races around to warn everyone about the meeting, narrowly missing being shot in the face when she blinks to McCree. (Does he ever take off his holster?) Zenyatta nods while Genji sighs and slowly puts down his fork. She startles Torbjörn again, sending him toppling off his seat into Zarya's lap. Fareeha rolls her eyes when Lena finds her, and Angela tries to remind Lena of Winston's no blinking rule. Reinhardt's the last person she tells, by way of crashing into him and falling back on her arse.

When her vision's clear and she can more or less think straight, she offers him up a grin. "Team meeting in five!"

Reinhardt blinks at her, then lets out a great bellow of laughter. He reaches down and hoists her to her feet, nearly wrenching her arm out of its socket in the process. "Slow down there, lass! Enough of all this rushing about!"

"No use talkin' any sense into that one," McCree grumbles as he passes. Lena sticks out her tongue at his back.

Reinhardt snorts. "Pay him no mind. He's still angry over last night."

"What happened last night?"

"Kicked out of another bar, from what Zarya tells me." Reinhardt clears his throat and says loudly, "Heard the boy can't hold his liquor—"

They both duck when a shot zings over their heads. Reinhardt gives Lena a wink.

They're the last to arrive to the meeting, so all the good "seats" are taken. The lounge isn't so much of a lounge as it is an ex-lab/testing room with a bunch of pillows and beanbag chairs thrown around it. Everyone complains about it, but so far no one has volunteered to actually go out and purchase furniture. Winston tried to make the best of it by adding a large television and allowing Hana to download all her games, and then by encouraging the others to add their own forms of decorations, but the place doesn't exactly feel comfortable. Actually, the same could be said for the entire helicarrier.

Reinhardt pays no mind to the fact that there aren't anymore places to sit and squeezes himself between Genji and Fareeha. Knowing better than to complain, they both simply make room for him. Hana waves Lena over from her sprawled out position on top of Zarya and Mei, but Lena just winks at her and leans against the doorframe. She can never sit still during these meetings, so it's easier for her to stand.

Winston waits until the chatter has died down a bit, then clears his throat and shuffles his papers in an obvious attempt to appear In Control. He glances up at the ceiling. "Athena, could you bring up the images?"

The television flickers to life, and holographic images project over the heads of everyone seated. Lena recognizes the layout of the Overwatch museum. She looks to Winston, who's already watching her. He gives her a nod, then reaches up and enlarges one of the images.

"A day after the recall, Agent Oxton and I heard word of suspicious activity near the Overwatch Historical Museum in Numbani. Further investigation led to a squirmish with two Talon operatives, codename's Widowmaker and Reaper."

Lena notices Angela tense at the mention of Reaper. "Can we confirm at this point that these operatives are…" She trails off pointedly.

"Amélie Lacroix and Gabriel Reyes, yes." Winston says steadily. Lots of shifting and muttering at that. Lena pointedly ignores several looks directed her way. "No matter their identities, their former identities, they work for Talon and are highly professional assassins with plenty of training. Future conflict is to be avoided if it can be helped. With that being said, Athena, lay out plans alpha 56 through 62."

The images of Widowmaker and Reaper are quickly replaced with bird's-eye view maps and layouts of different streets and back alleys surrounding the museum.

"Talon has shown extreme interest in Doomfist's gauntlet. In light of recent events, the museum has decided to move it to a secure location in Washington."

"At least, that is what they have told us," Zarya says with a small smile.

Winston huffs. "Of course, the museum is only capable of trusting us to a certain extent. They are willing to overlook certain aspects of the Petras Act if we are willing to overlook the exact location of where the gauntlet will be stored."

A few grumbles at that.

"Secrecy only harbors betrayal," Genji mutters.

Lúcio points at him. "I'm with ninja Spiderman. How do we know this museum won't turn around and rat us out to the government when we're through?"

"I am not a spider man."

"You climb walls, dude."

Winston starts to look more flustered as the protests grow in strength and number. Lena really wants to step in and help him, but, well, the last op hadn't gone too well. They'd almost been caught by some FBI agents, and the ramifications would have been bad. Some complaints deserve to be voiced.

Unsurprisingly, Angela's the one to try and put a stop to the fighting. "Everyone, calm yourselves. Surely the most important thing is to make sure that the gauntlet is safe."

"Oh, and I suppose the team's safety is to be forgotten, then?" Fareeha snaps. The room instantly falls quiet.

Angela stares at her in shock for a moment before her eyes narrow into blue slits. "How dare you insinuate that I would ever ignore the safety of every single individual on this team—"

"Perhaps I wouldn't insinuate, doctor, if you actually did your job!"

"Perhaps I could perform my job more to your satisfaction if you stopped throwing yourself at the enemy like some half-witted rookie fresh out of training!"

Genji and Torbjörn hold Fareeha back when she starts to get up. "If you continue to treat me like a child, then I will continue to treat you like an overbearing, useless nuisance," she spits.

Oh yeah, the gloves are off now. Lena's having none of that. "Oi! Who the hell do you think you are, huh?!" She marches forward to plant herself in front of Fareeha. "How's about you pull your head out of your arse and actually think about what you're saying? I know for a fact that Mercy's saved your blue behind more times than anyone else on this team, and believe me, a lot of it's thanks to your death-wish battle maneuvers!"

Fareeha opens her mouth to say something, but Reinhardt lifts a hand to her shoulder. "The time for arguing is over, Fareeha." She glances at him, frowns, then sits. She has the brains to look a bit sheepish.

Lena bobs her head. "That's more like it. Now then." She pivots to face the rest of the group, fists on her hips. "Let's get one thing straight, or as straight as you bunch of poofters can get." Hana snorts at that. "The people we protect don't trust us anymore, and quite frankly, sometimes I agree with them. But that's not the point. This job isn't about the glory. If you lot want to be celebrities then I will gladly invite you to march your sorry behinds right out the door. So we don't know all the information. So what?! Our job is to protect and serve, and that's what I want to do!"

Silence. Lena holds her ground, though the back of her neck is breaking a sweat. She tries not to focus on individual people and simply glares at the room in general.

Torbjörn breaks the silence with laughter. He's loud for such a little man, and his wheezes and knee slaps easily draw attention. "Dammit if I'm getting myself into this mess all over again, but I never signed up because it was easy! Count me in!"

"I agree. In order to regain the people's trust, we must earn it." Zenyatta stares up at the plans from where he's floating above a pillow. "This gauntlet has the potential to be quite dangerous, if placed in the wrong hands."

After that, everyone agrees to be a part of the plan, though some are more adamant than others. McCree looks grumpy, and Zarya is muttering under her breath. Then again, she is likely to be against anything Zenyatta is for. She has yet to fully trust the omnic monk.

Despite the few grumblings, they all agree to protect the gauntlet. Winston lets out a sigh of relief. "Then it's agreed. We will rendezvous at point 1, then escort the payload down route A while routes B, C, D, and E will be covered by—"

"Wait, hold up, will everyone be in on this?" Lúcio asks with a raised hand, despite not being called on.

"Well, yes. The museum requested that we all be present, and I think that, erm, given the special circumstances of the, uh, mission…" Winston awkwardly trails off.

Lena shares a worried look with Angela. So far they've only done small missions with three to four agents working as a team. They can barely work together with that small of a group, so Lena can only imagine the chaos that will ensue once they're all out in the field.

Huh. This might be fun.

Winston starts giving everyone tasks, reading off his notes like a nervous drill sergeant. "D. Va, you'll be up above in your MEKA, following the payload route while keeping watch from at least a hundred meters."

"Yes sir!"

"Don't call me that. Genji, I want you ahead of the payload, quietly taking down any threats that might reveal themselves."

"Understood."

"McCree, keep watch over routes B and C, and be ready for any last minute deviations."

"I always am."

Lena, realizing she's still standing in the middle of everyone, quietly makes her way to the back of the room. As she waits for her name to be called out, she studies one of the maps of the area. Numbani sure has changed in the last few years or so, with new buildings and high-rises popping up all over the place. She mildly observes that a lot of the buildings have high balconies and leveled rooftops, with good views over the routes that they…would be…escorting…

Bugger.

"Agent Oxton."

Lena jumps to attention. "Yep! That's me! Agent Oxtin! Totally paying attention."

Winston gives her one of his patented unimpressed looks. "Right. You will be scouting along all the routes, keeping an eye out for anything…" He pauses as if to search for the right word. "Suspicious."

Lena's shoulder's droop. She knows where this is going. "If by suspicious you mean tall, purple, and French…?"

Winston clears his throat. "Yes. That would be suspicious."

Lena huffs out an annoyed breath and glares up at the ceiling. Of course. What was she expecting? So far, Lena's been the only one who's been able to distract her long enough to save a few precious minutes of combat time. For some reason, Lena hasn't been killed yet, despite the many opportunities. She has a sneaking suspicion she's being toyed with.

She sort of tunes out of the rest of the pre-brief, silently fuming over her last encounter with the sniper. Lena had been able to keep her busy for a good long while, before being pinned with a complex mid-air twist. At least, that's what she thinks happened. That part's rather fuzzy. She does remember a chuckle in her ear and a kiss on her cheek before the assassin made her escape. Lena had trudged back to base annoyed, flustered, and unsuccessful. Two minutes later she discovered the purple lipstick residue on her cheek was poisonous. Angela was able to heal it as best she could, but Lena was still left with a kiss shaped burn for two whole weeks.

She only realizes that the meeting's over when McCree bumps into her on his way out. Angela is quick to follow, her jaw looking tense. Lena watches as she takes a sharp turn down a hall leading to the workout room.

"What's wrong now?" She asks Lúcio when he walks up to her.

"Weren't you paying attention?"

"No."

"Right. Winston gave us healers specific people to watch over."

"Oh. Who'd I end up with?"

"Nobody. You're impossible to heal."

Lena snorts. "You lot just can't keep up."

"Oh, hold up, I can race your orange butt into the ground any damn day of the week and you know it." Lúcio crosses his arms over his chest and juts his chin out. He thinks it makes him look intimidating, but really it just makes him look like a dork.

"The only thing you'll be doing to my butt is staring at it while I leave you in the dust, slowpoke," Lena counters with a grin.

"Ooh, she's cocky. Ya'll hear that?! She's cocky!" Lúcio calls out to the now empty room.

"Yeah yeah, but why is Angela all huffy? What did…" She hesitates, and Lúcio slowly nods. Lena lets out a small gasp. "No. Surely he wouldn't!"

"Oooh yeah, matched them up then ran out before they could get a word in."

Lena shakes her head in disbelief, and turns to look down the hall towards the workout room. "Pharah and Mercy. You know, what really gets me is that they would be such a good team if they would just—"

"Bang it out?"

"Well, yeah."

Lúcio nods sagely, then says in a horrible imitation of Zenyatta's voice, "The hawk and the sparrow could hunt as one, when they are not hunting each other."

"That was horrible."

"No wait, I can do you. Oi there, gov'nah! 'ave at it or I'll knock your block off, ya bloody 'obnockah!"

"I don't sound like that."

"Cheers, love! The homo is here!"

"Cut it out or I'll bring back Lucy."

Lúcio's eyes widen. "No. Don't, seriously."

"I bet Hana would loooove it," Lena sings, waltzing her way out of the lounge.

"No, no no no, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore!" Lúcio cries as he chases after her. "Lena, I'm dead serious, I thought we had a deal!"