Pharmercy Collection of Oneshots, written for the lovely Pharmercy community on Reddit whom I've just discovered. I don't own Overwatch. Don't even play the game. But these two sets my heart fluttering and I feel so happy again just watching them love each other. This ship will sail forever! Fluffy things only. Enjoy, folks!

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1. Safe and Sound

'Justice rains from a-Oof!', the burly Egyptian's vision blacked out for one second as a mass of soft, cold substance found its mark on her cheek. The snowy missile she was harboring plopped onto the white-washed ground as the younger Amari brushed stray ice out of her dreadlocks.

Turning to glare at the perpetrator, Pharah found a very flustered Doktor with her hands over her mouth and extreme concern in those wide, blue eyes.

'OhmygodFareehaImsosorryIdidntmeant-'

'Stop', the former Chief of Security at Helix International shushed her girlfriend as she, too, dug up another little scoop of snow and shaped it into a rough approximation of what could be considered rotund. With her back turned to her blonde partner a little grin found its way onto Pharah's lips.

'...reallyitwasonlyforfunididntthinkitw-Augh!'

It was now Mercy's turn to almost fall over as a snowball splattered onto her face, causing stray ice to fall into her scarf. The cold, now inside, somehow made her face only hotter as she rubbed a gloved hand gingerly over her cheek and locked eyes with her girlfriend of two years for a brief moment, before both of them fell back onto their haunches, laughing.

When their buttocks got cold the lovebirds gathered themselves and linked hands as they trudged the short distance back to Angela's cottage; they had gone to watch the sunrise from a particular clifftop at the Doktor's suggestions- spectacular when admired from on top of the Swiss Alps, she had said happily.

Fareeha could only agree, mesmerized by the way sunbeams gave Angela's hair that soft, halo-like golden glow.

...

She rubbed her hands together for warmth as she nudged logs with a poker and waited for the fireplace to do its job. Her eyes were lazy, doing passes at her angel's cute little bum while the latter hummed a quiet, happy tune, sashaying back and forth as she prepared two mugs of hot chocolate for the pair of them.

The warmth emanating from the kindled fire coupled with the soft, barely discernible flurry of snow impacting floor-to-ceiling glass set the Egyptian in a ponderous mood. The right word would be 'sonder', as Fareeha Amari gratefully accepted her drink and took hold of her lover's hand, leaning back in the plush, vanilla-smelling seat as her Doktor took the seat beside her, the two content to sit in companionable silence to watch snow fall.

Idly, she sniffed and noticed Angela's scent was everywhere.

Not that Fareeha minded.

Her Doktor chortled, and she looked over, eyebrows quirked, asking what caused the reaction. Flustered, and very, very cute, Angela pointed at the stack of unopened letters that had accumulated on their seldom-used dinner table.

It took Fareeha a moment to get what her partner was pointing at, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, although there was a look of bemusememt on her visage all the same.

Sitting proudly on top of the pile was a cuboid package, content unknown, but what drew her attention was the large blocky letters ,written on a placard, tied to the neat bow on top of the gift that read: 'Merry Christmas you Lesbian Sky Angels!' with what was probably 'Lena and Emily' written in more refined cursive below.

It was a little comical. She frowned a little as her eyes ran over 'Lesbian Sky Angels' again. Typical Lena. Hmphm.

But Fareeha could not stop a smile. In fact, she snorted out a chuckle and draped an arm over her Doktor, pulling the latter close for a kiss to the forehead.

Angela purred under her touch, and wanted to lean in even further but only for the separation of the chairs keeping them apart. Sighing softly, the former Chief of Security nuzzled her partner's soft, fragrant hair, eyes once again tracking the snowflakes outside, her nose pleasantly filled with the rich aroma of her wafting chocolate drink.

It was days like these, when there was nothing to do really and the weather actually permits her sitting on her ass all morning, that Fareeha took the time to marvel with joy at how she had come to be with her beloved despite all their differences.

For it was common knowledge that Angela was five years her senior, and had even taken care of her when Fareeha was but a child when the young Doktor first joined Overwatch. If someone had told her just three years ago that she would one day be engaged to this... wonderful, kind, angelic being, Fareeha would have snorted and slapped them on the back. After all, the age gap was only the beginning of their non-similarities.

As it was, things took a rather nice turn for the better.

What was it about the Doktor that drew Fareeha to her? the Egyptian mused. Was it the fact that she was so intelligent, already a pioneer in her field even before the age of thirty? Maybe. Was it her charisma, then; how she could smile at anyone and everyone with that sincere, lovely smile of hers? Probably, she entertained the thought. Or perhaps it was her looks, at this Fareeha scrunched up her nose- her frequent substitute for blushing. Strong women like Fareeha did not blush easily, after all. Was it Angela's lithe, willowy figure- Fareeha continued her train of thought, cheeks rapidly heating up and it was not because of the warmth- and her silken blonde hair that always managed to have a few strands loose begging to be tucked, even when she bunched it all up in a ponytail? She had no idea.

Her gaze flicked down as she felt her Doktor's other hand clasping hers, so that now her whole palm was being held by Angela.

'Hmm?', she murmured as her partner seemed to stare at nothing while tracing random patterns on the grafted skin of Fareeha's prosthetic limb. Tingles traversed her spine, making her squirm with pleasure, but not because her skin was sensitive. In fact, years of combat and thousands of hours in the gym had made her the definition of thick-skinned. Really, Angela just had that effect on her.

Fareeha was a soldier. She might not be warlike by nature, but years in the Army and then Helix Security only to be followed by Overwatch had made her as much a fighter as the definition of fighter could have entailed.

Her Doktor, on the other hand, was an ardent pacifist, detesting violence to the point of refusing to carry a sidearm on her first missions in the Old Overwatch. Gabriel had kicked up a hundred fuss and then some back then- the occasional stories her mother told her of the good old days had always given then young Pharah the impression that Angela, or Mercy, as was her call sign, wouldn't go near a gun if her life depended on it.

But eventually, she did, and of course it wasn't even her life that was on the line when shooting one human being to protect another was required of her.

Angela was a savior. She healed. She saved. She gave hope. Fareeha herself on the other hand... she flew into battles, Raptora suit's weapons brandished like a vengeful angel sent from the heavens to bring justice to the enemy.

But who was the enemy? And what right did she have to dispense 'justice'?

It had been so much simpler back in the Old Overwatch's days. Omnics were bad. Humans were good. Go shoot the Omnics and you are a good soldier. Where humans became the enemies was where all the lines became blurred, and Fareeha would never forget that time when the screaming teenage girl charged at her with sorrowful, angry tears streamimg down her cheeks as she waved a carbine wildly at her dead family and friends; all terrorists, the lot of them.

'Why?!', she had demanded as she came threateningly close. She should have done a proper threat assessmemt and held the girl at gun point. She should have. But then...'Why?', she had sobbed at Pharah's feet, gun dropped, dirty hands brought to her face to vainly stop the stream of tears that would not stop no matter. Pharah knew that much. Oh no, the tears wouldn't stop alright. They would never stop. One day they would give way to anger and a dozen years from now a new cell would be uncovered with this very young woman leading them into the fray. A shadow fell over the young rebel, and Fareeha's eyes widened. Too late.

'Wh-'. Bang.

Deafeningly loud.

Then deafening silence.

And her headless body fell to the dust, along with the rest of them. Bits of brain splattered on Pharah's chest plate. Her eyes were unfocused. Unseeing.

Her second-in-command put away his pistol and walked away with the rest of the hit squad and compulsion forced her feet to move so she would not miss extraction and be left behind in the no-man's-land.

'Why?', the girl muttered. But something was wrong. There was no face! Where was her face? Where was her face!?

'Why?!', Pharah stared along the length of her own rocket launcher. Heh, she thought, I'm on the wrong end of it this time.

'Wh-'

'Fareeha...?', Angela sounded worried, 'mein liebling?'

No answer.

'Are you alright?', Mercy shook her. Pharah stared through her partner with eyes that were looking at something that wasn't really there.

'Fareeha', she felt warm hands pull her close. She fell into them like a rag-doll. Funny. If Talon operatives shot down the chimney right now brandishing guns and Stalkers crashed down their porch, Pharah would have just rolled over and muttered 'End me'.

'Fareeha!', her Doktor shook her, genuine distress in her voice as she looked at her blank face and then brought her close. Rapid, worried kisses were rained onto her face. Angela pecked at her lips. Her cheeks. Her face. Her forehead.

'I'm here', she whispered fervently, 'Fareeha I'm here. I'm here for you. Come back.'

'Come back to me.'

'Mein liebling you have to come back to me...please!'

'Please', she cried. Her Angela cried.

Her Doktor was weeping.

That was enough to finally tear Fareeha out of her waking nightmare and she collapsed fully into her partner's lap when Angela's hands stopped supporting her to try and stop the tears now falling freely from the latter's eyes. She said something to Angela. What, she did not know. But she must have said something.

'I'm here', she heard her angel mutter into her hair as she saw the snow again. Everything was white.

White. White. White...?

Yes. Snow. The Alps. That's where she was.

Not the battlefield. Not in the infirmary. Not over that girl.

But safe, in her Doktor's hold.

Safe.

'I'm here, mein liebling.'

She was safe.

'I'm here.'

(break)

As this is my first ever Overwatch fic, I would be absolutely stoked if you lovely folks could give some comments. Anything's fine, I just want to hear your thoughts. Might make this into a whole series if the right stars align (wink). Until next time, have a good one folks!