The Widow's Kiss

Tracer shuddered at the cold breeze, it was rattling her bones as if the cold itself had them on strings and plucked them away like a puppet master. She lingered near the entrance of the Theatre, where once Madatta announced his last speech before being murdered by the famous cold blooded killer, Widowmaker. Snow is falling, and Big Ben's clock is ticking, Lena awaited for her 'special' package to be delivered. This package contained a device that was able to track Talon, a terrorist organisation group that was also known to be throat to throat with Overwatch. Tracer's mission was to bait out one of Talons agents and somehow place the device on them. 'God 'elp me' Lena thought as she recalled through the details of her given mission. Is it even possible to fool one of these highly skilled, professional assassins? She started tapping her foot on the concrete pavement swallowed by her waiting shadow, and grabbed her radio from one of her inside pockets. If she is going to bluff Talon she would need a good disguise to do so, and even Tracer herself would admit she was no master in hiding the wolf in sheep's clothing. In fact she had some what pieced together a 'Punk' outfit and to go the extra mile she even dyed her hair bright pink. She had a studded leather jacket and made an inside pocket to keep her radio hidden from sight with a pair of thick black goggles, with a skull on one of the lens.

'Winston, God damn it how is this supposed to be possible? How am I going to hand over the package with the device in it? What do I even say?' Tracer whispered through the Radio.

'I told you to revise that over the past two weeks Lena Oxton! You could confess that the devise holds information on the location of Overwatch agents and you got it from a friend' The radio buzzed with the raffled voice of a really pissed off monkey.

'Alright, alright my mistake! Look, I will take the false information but being very picky 'ere what would you imagine their reaction to be like once I announce I got the info from a 'friend'?

'Not my problem Lena I'm sorry but I gave you two weeks and I'm tracking the device itself and should reach your destination in five minutes' Winston replied.

Tracer went silent.

Winston sighed 'Tracer, I'm sorry all of this has got me on edge and im pretty sure it has been the same for you, don't worry I have rallied backup around the perimeter of your position and if anything goes to the pit we can fish you out. Stay strong.' the radio went static and Tracer buried it back in her pocket before replying 'Thanks big guy'.

Lena had received images of the vehicle delivering her special package and the more she peered into it, the harder it was to digest all of the information, it really made her stomach flip. She looked at a small faded reflection of herself through one of the windows and she couldn't recognise herself. She heard the screech of the brakes and could smell burning rubber as a van halted right before her. The window slowly rolled down to a figure coated in black, as his arm hanged clutching the devise. 'Special delivery' a husk deep voice approached from beyond the window, smoke huffing out of it. Tracer unravelled her balled firm fist to receive the piece of technology and as soon as it had landed in her cold, almost blue, hands the van took off, the smoke still erupting out of the window like a stream train. She gazed upon her hand to find the smallest microchip hidden in a fake USB. Whatever device the USB will be inserted in will trigger their position for sure. Time hit 9:45 Pm and it was time for Lena to make her next move. She is going to meet this agent on one of the quiet rooftops hopefully hidden from citizen eyes. The dark heavy clouds continued to walk across the night, gobbling up the stars and smudging the moonlight as Tracer successfully reached her desired destination. She took a final glimpse of her surroundings, planning escape routes in case disasters start to haunt her, mapping the quickest and easiest obstacles to overcome and any advantages or disadvantages that might conclude to an unexpected fight. If there was a battle then there was no hiding her abilities and true identity, as her accelerator took a massive role in keeping her alive and blinking to safety. As soon as she had finished observing her Urban environment a sound struck her ears and she whipped her head to the lip of the building. A metal claw was found gripped to the ledge and before Lena could prepare, there appeared Talons most famous and skilled assassin, Widowmaker. A cunning smile tugged on her lips and her eyes lit with amusement before fading back into a hollow, liquid gold. Lena feared the poisonous words dripping from her lips as she said 'Long time no see, Lena Oxton.'

Tracer turned deathly pale, her heart stumbled and sweat embedded on her brow. 'You mistaken me from one of Overwatch's clumsiest recruits?' The worst sentence she had probably breathed in her life. Widowmaker just giggled, bearing her pearly white teeth that illuminated from the moonlight, some part of her laughter was just hauntingly...terrifying. Tracer brushed it off, clearing her throat and announced 'I have a device that has the location of Overwatch's headquarters and their current members, If you wish to accomplish Overwatch to be no longer intact or in hiding, this will only get you that far.'

Widow's gaze slipped to the USB planted in Tracer's hand, a grin still remained on her cold blue skin. 'You know Lena Oxton...' she started to approach Tracer, swift and elegant. A cat playing with it's food for sure. She lightly put the tip of her index finger on Tracer's shoulder and started to circle her. 'I find it somewhat insulting that you would think I would believe in your attempted disguise, it's cute really, how you expect to fool the worlds largest terrorist organisation group with such a... unique and haggard costume and identity. A true and one of the most loyal members of Overwatch wouldn't dare corrupt or sell the coordinates to a ruthless group of criminals, more then capable in destroying Overwatch themselves with or without the device. So tell me Lena Oxton...' Tracer wished she would stop addressing her as Lena, it was really quite embarrassing. 'What decisions would you make between two of the following options I will request, either to stay as Overwatch's clumsiest pet or to follow in my own footsteps to become one of the most feared assassin and hold a place in Talons glorious organisation.' She must be stupid surely, she knows what decision Tracer was going to make unless she was setting some sort of deathtrap. Before she could speak, Widowmaker lifted Tracers head lightly with her index finger and thumb and clasped her lips around Lena's.

The world shifted then paused, Tracer started to tremble, eyes widened and her head started drifting and spinning. She pressed something into Tracers hand, making her panic simultaneously as she pulled back still close enough that their breath mingled. Widows lips reached her ear and whispered 'Think about it.' before pulling back, her hollow eyes now bright like the sun melting over the hills on the horizon exposing that same blood-curling grin before stepping off of the tip of the rooftop disappearing in the mist below. Tracer couldn't move, speak or think as she tried absorbing what happened. She opened her balled fist to find a small slate of metal like an oversized coin, embroidered on it was Talons symbol. She flipped it over to find a sentence written in familiar handwriting which it read 'Step into my parlour'. Tracer inhaled deeply before muttering 'said the spider to the fly...'.

Was it her imagination or did that kiss really happen? She couldn't figure out why- why would Talon want her? Lena was pretty sure a game was being played here. Exhausted and still terrified Tracer returned to the never ending stretches of cobblestone roads and stopped for a while to purchase a drink. She had the whole glass in one go, and another.. another. She should return back to HQ before anyone should question her safety. Was the mission a success? The device was taken and yet she was left with this silver coin glimmering under the street lamps as she passed under them. Everything about this mission wasn't normal.. she didn't feel normal, her throat was turning sore and every time she inhaled it became more difficult to breathe. That couldn't have been normal, she grabbed her radio and said 'Winston- I need-' she started to cough a little 'to return-' Her eye lids became heavy and her speech slurred, she didn't need to waste her breath telling Winston what was happening, it was quite clear hearing Tracer panic meant that she's in trouble. 'Pharah should be arriving at your location in two minutes hang on there.' The coughing became uncontrollable, she hasn't digested any chemical substances so what had caused her sudden illness? Of course. There must had been a poison on her lips, and after she had a couple of drinks that probably had found its way into her system. It was too late to recall, all she could do was drop to her knees and choke. Roaring flames was heard up ahead, as Tracer slowly rose her head to glance and Pharah coming in at lightning speed. Lena smiled, the sight of the Egyptian warrior made her relieved and safe as she came down and scooped Tracer in her arms 'How did you-' Lena could barely speak. Pharah chuckled 'We were tracking you all along, and as for the poison Dr. Zeigler has prepared a tonic ready for use.' Tracers small smile was all she could manage as a thanks and soon drifted into sleep.

She had poison on her lips, that was the reason, and yet it felt so similar, the effects, that was it. Her charm and beauty, that smile is just like a predator that stalks he stary night. That predator.. That widow. Never will I ever receive the same fate...

The Widow's Kiss