A deep breath, and the Egyptian woman would lift up her gun, checking through the scope. The official order had been given, and it was time to do what she was trained to do. There was no backing out now. Through the lens, Ana would scan the buildings below, searching for movement among the sands.
"Amari? What are you doing out here?"
Long, wavy brown locks would swish with a turn of a head, and Ana would look behind her to see Amélie Lacroix approaching, the nightgown she had on billowing with the slight breeze. The sniper would offer a grin, turning back to the railing she was leaning on to continue gazing at the bright moon above.
"I could not sleep, my dear. I am always restless before travel. But, what of you? Surely, my being here was not enough to awaken you."
Amélie smiled, revealing a half-empty water bottle. "Sorry to disappoint, chérie. I was simply thirsty."
A laugh is the response, and Ana would pat the metal next to her. "Come, then. If you must be awake, then at least be awake with me." The Frenchwoman would join her, taking a spot to her right. It is silent for a time afterwards as the two women stare ahead. Amélie is the first to break it. "This country… Your country, it is beautiful." The Egyptian would turn her head to face the young woman next to her, eyebrow raised.
"The sand has a, how you say… Wonder about it, under the night sky. It is almost a different place entirely, compared to the desert in the day."
Ana would blink once at this, and break into a knowing grin. "You are right about this, habibty. They are two separate worlds, to be sure. One is just as beautiful as the other."
Looking back to the land below their balcony, she could hear a soft chuckle. "Indeed, they are."
Her men were out there already, maneuvering between buildings and crates to stay hidden. Occasional bouts of fire would be let loose, and the sniper would dutifully pump a shot of medical fluid into each soldier who was hit. She had been doing this for years; fighting to keep her comrades alive. Fighting to keep her loved ones at home safe from the hell that was war.
In her ear, an intercom buzzes, and Jack's voice would ring out. "Sniper in-bound, Ana. Find 'em, and keep 'em off of us."
A switch is flipped, and Captain Amari would cock back her gun. "Understood."
"Do you mind doing me a favor?"
Ana's ears would ring at a thick French accent, and she looks up from the seat she had taken to glance at a beautiful dress, and the equally beautiful woman who wore it.
"Of course, Amélie. What is it you need?"
Her companion would turn, revealing a slender back uncovered by fabric. "Zip up my dress, if you would. I cannot reach."
The captain would blink in surprise at the request, and comply. Once done, the Frenchwoman would step away and twirl- frilly lace splaying out with the motion. "How do I look?"
Amari would smile warmly, standing and crossing her arms. "Al Aleb Ghaleb, habibty. It is fantastic." When the Arabic rolls off her tongue, Amélie raises a brow. "What did that first part mean? You are not meaning to insult me without, how you say, without my knowing?" Her tone carried a tint of humor, and golden eyes would shine with mischief.
The sniper laughs, patting her on the shoulder. "Do not worry. In my country, it simply means 'you are more beautiful than your dress'. I would not insult someone so clearly pretty."
At this, the military wife would blink quietly, then smile at her bodyguard. "… Of course. Thank you. For it all—I know you would mean to be elsewhere, but are stuck keeping watch over me due to my husba—"
Ana stops her, raising a hand.
"Think nothing of it. Dress shopping isn't my idea of fun, but it is not unenjoyable. I am having a fine time. Gérard is a good friend, anyways, and I would do anything for him."
Silence between the two of them, and Amélie would grab the captain's hand. "Come with me, then! We must find you something while we are here, chérie. Something to find you someone to complain about to me, as well." Without time to protest, the Egyptian was dragged out of the dressing room and back into the store, grinning at the taught ponytail of raven hair flitting in front of her.
"Captain Amari, assistance would be nice!"
The outburst shocks the captain out of her trance. Damn, why was she remembering that now? Amélie Lacroix was dead; she had been killed by a traitor who had taken over her body.
Reinhardt's thick German accent sounds up once again, and Ana would locate the giant only to find him surrounded.
"I've got you covered. Nano boost: engaged. Get in there."
Her wrist is raised, and she'd fire a dart straight into the back of a suit of armor several meters away. The metal would spark, and she would hear a roar of fury followed by a few screams of terror.
Chuckling to herself at the man's theatrics, the medic would respond to another call for help, peering into her scope and swooping in on a soldier. So far, they were doing well. The enemy sniper had been taken out, and now she could do her work in pe—…
The man drops dead in front of her reticle.
A pang of guilt goes through her heart, and she searches for the cause. Nothing. Another alert sounds over her intercom, and she shifts targets again. This time, she manages to fire a support round, only to see it go in vain seconds after when the man fell stone cold like the last one.
What on earth?!
This happens several times, with each soldier dying the instant she can zone hone in on a call for help. The sniper was absolutely enraged. Her men were dropping like flies on her watch, and she couldn't find the source of it. Time after time, she would switch targets to fire a round of healing, only to see them die in that instant. Was it another sniper?! Upon this realization, Captain Amari would scope out the windows and rooftops, scanning to find the source of the fire.
It takes a while to find this new threat, and Ana almost wishes she didn't as soon as she lays eyes on a face she hasn't seen in a very long time.
A loud ruckus catches the attention of Amari, who reflexively brings a hand to her now round tummy. It is followed by a mix of angry French and Spanish, then the roaring laughter of a certain American and Brit. She looks towards the kitchen, just in time to see a grumbling woman come out with a frown on her face. Amélie would take a deep breath then, and turn her attention to the captain in front of her.
"Can you believe how worked up they get over a game of cards? Honestly. It is like I keep after children."
Amari would laugh herself, turning back to the case of photographs she had been examining. "I suppose it is. They are all so hot-blooded, after all. What can you do?" The Frenchwoman would shake her head in response, unable to help the teeny smile spreading across her lips.
Quietly, the woman would bring her hand to softly caress a bulging stomach. "How is she?"
Ana would hum, and place her more calloused hand over the daintier, manicured one. "She is fine. I think she likes to be around our little 'Usra. Our family." A chuckle from the other woman at the notion, and her hand would leave in favor of crossing her arms. "I would hope so. Lena is excited to become an aunt- now that she is with us again, it is all she will talk about."
The sniper would grin, looking over at the frenchie from the corner of her eye. "Is that so? Well, I hope my darling Fareeha comes soon, then." She coos down at her unborn child, unable to help the already-present motherly child. Amélie would smile as well, nodding before falling silent for a moment.
"... What were you doing alone? It is rare you are not the, how you say, life of the party." The question is an honest one, and Amari would give a small chuckle. With a small wave of her hand, she gestures to the pictures in front of them.
"It has simply been a while since I've been here. I have not seen the new ones." The sniper would move to pick up a large frame, holding two familiar faces; her own and Amélie's, smiling at the camera. The two were at the beach, with the Frenchwoman wearing a large frilly hat, and the Egyptian had her hair tied back. Their cheeks were pressed together, and in the background could be seen Jack and Tracer racing towards the water. That had been a good day.
"I had no idea you had kept this picture, Amélie. To think, it would be front and center on your mount."
The woman would smile reaching up to wrap an arm around her companion's shoulder. "Why would they not be, chérie? You are my best friend, and the woman I trust my life to. Please, understand you are always in my thoughts and heart."
Touched, Ana would fall silent; gazing pleasantly at the photo. Setting it down, her own arm would go over the housewife's shoulder, and she would turn them around before marching into the kitchen.
"Come, then! We will show them how women get things done."
As the mother lied there, clutching the eye that had just been shot, she would cry in pain not only from the wound, but from the flood of memories that came back to her as well. She had tried to push the rogue-woman from her mind upon learning of her betrayal, but coming face to face with her best friend had brought up more hurt than any wound could muster. It had almost killed her upon learning of the treachery Widowmaker had done, yet she had pulled through— promising to either bring her back, or end the pain of working for the enemy. Yet, the sniper had hesitated, and now she was almost dead because of it. Out of the remaining eye, tears flooded over her hand and down her arm, bubbling up from the overwhelming event. Another thought popped up: How could she face her daughter, her sweet Fareeha? What example was she setting, showing how she could not even save the woman she cherished…?
It is in the hospital later on that Ex-Captain Amari decided; she would not face her daughter. Not until she had accomplished her mission, and brought Amélie Lacroix home. No, she would stay out of sight; fighting the good fight, supporting those who worked to stop this from continuing to happen in the shadows...