Chapter 1

A foolish girl's dreams

"Tiens, tiens. It looks like we will be working together."

There was a certain amusement in Widowmaker's voice. It was taunting her.

"Don't think I'm happy about that!"

Tracer looked the other way with something that could be described as a childish pout. She moved to the other side of the aircraft while making sure that her pulse pistols were combat ready.

Amber eyes followed the Brit with smug satisfaction.

"Aww come on now!"

That feeling would fade quickly though, as her Hispanic accomplice began to talk at Widow from the side.

"I know you two are not quite best amigos, but this is a special occasion! We shouldn't spoil that before the mission even started, should we?"

Sombra accompanied her on this venture, for better or worse. Her attitude was pissing off Widow almost hard enough to warrant violence. Almost.

"Remind me, why are we doing this again?"

"Have you slept through the briefing? It's to cull the Mexican crime syndicates! Happens to be a common goal of Talon and Overwatch, even though we just do it for business."

"I know this…"

Widow was getting irritated. She didn't like being talked down to, especially not by Sombra.

"That can't be everything. Our new… associates have this bogus sense of justice that would normally prohibit them to work with us."

Apparently, it was Sombra's turn to don a smug smile.

"Oh, in the end its always resources before morals. You just need to haggle for some concessions, disclose some information, maybe arrange some exchanging of prisoners aaand…"

Purply adorned hands slowly danced upwards in some form of soundless drum roll. As they reached their maximum height, small purple fireworks erupted in holo-screens behind Sombra, who was grinning cheerfully.

"…cooperation! The wonders of diplomacy!"

Widow felt like she was about to puke.

"Let's just get this over with…"

Looking around the aircraft, the Overwatch agents outnumbered them. Widow had the suspicion that this also was part of the deal. It looked like Overwatch specifically chose newer agents that didn't yet experience too much contact with Talon. Talon did the same by at least barring Reaper from this mission.

To be frank, only Tracer and I have history.

A small smirk was back on Widow's lips as she thought about that.

Her team was making good headway! The syndicate, or gang, however you want to call it really, had taken over this whole maze of streets, partly even fortified them. Sombra and Tracer worked in tandem to flank their enemies and take out defensive positions, while the rest of the squad was pushing at the front.

Still, her thoughts were preoccupied.

Why are we working with notorious criminals?

Lena had asked this more than once. Winston assured them that this escapade was worth the risk, but he wasn't here, risking his hide, expecting betrayal at any moment.

Worst were the echoing shots. Every time a sniper shot rushed through the air to find the head of a criminal, Lena experienced chills. Sometimes she was a mere step away from the spider's victims. From time to time she would look back to the bell tower Widow had chosen for her nest.

This whole ordeal was getting to Lena.

Suddenly she got shot at from a small alley to the side. A bullet grazed her cheek, prompting a hot, searing pain. Tracer was caught off-guard, having split her attention between friend and foe. She whirled around, only to witness dealing with her ambushers, pumping them full of steaming pulse rounds.

"We're almost through already! These chumps are too easy, LOL!"

The big, pink MEKA turned around to an astonished Brit who looked like a dear in headlights.

"You okay Tracer?"

Lena blinked a few times before she finally answered.

"Uh, yeah sure! Let's finish this, haha!"

"Yeah!"

activated her thrusters and moved back to coordinate with the team. Lena tried to get back into the action as well, flanking the next position with a quick blink. It was business as usual from there.

Soon enough the feeling crept up her spine that something wasn't quite right. It took her a moment to figure out what was missing.

Her shots…!

Lena stopped in her tracks and looked around. They had almost finished their cleanup, but the fighting wasn't done yet. A drug lords' mansion they had yet to reach was at the heart of the operation.

Why would she stop? Is she… in danger?

Torn at the prospect, Lena finally decided to head back.

With long strides and constant blinks Tracer rushed up the bell tower as fast as she could. In mere moments, the top was in sight. She stormed up the last flight of stairs out into the open.

A cast iron bell hung above to the side. There were no walls, only stone pillars and a guard railing that gave way to a sunless dusk. Most importantly though, no signs of the spider.

"Where-"

Tracer's lithe frame was suddenly grabbed and shoved up against one of the pillars, prompting an audible gasp for air. As soon as her eyes regained focus, she could see Widowmaker towering over her.

"Here I am."

"Wha…"

"You are so predictable, ma Chérie."

This wasn't how she had imagined this going. Those blue hands were stuck to the pillar, one to each side of her head. Widowmaker was way too close, glowering at her with those amber eyes. Lena tried her best to refocus.

"What are you doing?! We have a miss-"

The sound of protest was quickly cut off, as Widow leaned in to lock lips with her momentary captive. They were cool, but full of experience. Lena's hazelnut eyes opened wide. She struggled to keep her composure, first meekly, then more forcefully tried to shove Widowmaker away.

She succeeded only because the French woman felt like it, leaning back just mere inches.

"What did you say in the aircraft about working with me? 'Don't think I'm happy about that'? You are such a bad liar, you know that?"

Lena's cheeks were flustered as she tried to protest.

"I'm not as cold as you are, it's… it's not that easy!"

"You just need to get better at acting, ma petite bête."

Widowmaker used the time of their banter to wrap her arms around the little Brit. Her hands moved below the pilot's jacket to caress her back. In the meanwhile, she lowered her head to kiss the nape of Lena's neck. The warmth of her unlikely lover had fascinated Widowmaker ever since they by chance discovered an affection for doing these things together.

"Hey, s-stop it already! We can't be doing that now, luv!"

Lena's breath went ragged. She looked around, down into the alleys where their team was advancing into the drug lord's mansion.

"You're not exactly resisting that much."

More instinctively than anything, Lena returned the embrace. Her thoughts were in shambles, just as her breathing. She couldn't even properly answer the accusation, which only served to fluster her more.

"W-What if they see us…"

Widow seemed to be amused at the thought, judging by the way she chuckled in a deep, distinctively French way. One of her hands moved up to the front, slowly slipping below the tight yellow spandex pants, while the other caressed one of Lena's hot red cheeks. Those cold lips traveled upwards, until Widow could whisper into her little plaything's ear.

"We could open your com link and let them listen. I think your little friends would be positively ecstatic to hear what you are up to, don't you, ma Chérie?"

Lena's eyes opened up wide. The French seductress began to caress her in ways that made it impossible to remain silent, prompting stifled, desperate moans. The other hand that had caressed her cheeks now inched upwards, slowly threatening to press a finger into the ear where her commlink resided.

"A-Amélie, you wouldn't…!"

She only used that name when her French lover would go too far. Lena knew how much she resented it, but today the name would have no effect. Instead, Widow whispered another taunt laden with sadistic satisfaction.

"It won't be a problem if you just stay silent, no? Shouldn't be too hard for a hero like you."

A shiver ran down the Brit's spine a she squirmed against the pillar. Lena wouldn't be capable of staying quiet and they both knew it. The thought of being exposed to her team was unbearably humiliating.

"Amélie, please…!"

But not just that. The thought excited her in ways she wouldn't have imagined. Something was building up inside of her, not just by the hand that caressed her intimately, but also by the tip of the finger that slowly entered her ear.

"Amélie…"

Hana's voice answered on the other side.

"Tracer, is that you? What's going on?"

Lena tried to hold back, but it was too much. She shivered all over, moaning loudly.

"Amélie…!"

"Amélie!"

"Emily!"

A flat hand hit the table right beside where her head was resting, prompting the redhead to straighten up quicker than a startled mouse.

"I'm awake!"

There was a small moment of awkward silence between the freckled girl and her superior.

"You are now."

She stared at her boss with wide eyes, trying to keep the embarrassment down.

"I… I wasn't asleep Mister Bernstein, I was just… resting, yes! I swear!"

Her hands quickly alt-tabbed away from the Word document on her computer screen. The way Bernstein looked at her, he already knew about her little pastime and was considerably irritated by it… especially since she fell asleep while tinkering on a rather compromising bell tower scene.

"Sometimes I don't know what to make of you, Emily."

His hand retracted from the desk while he let out a heavy sigh. Bernstein was a tall, middle-aged man with horned glasses and a stern demeanor. A sense of professionalism was practically oozing off his oiled back, brown hair in addition to his old-timey suit and tie. Emily squirmed in her seat under his stern consternation.

"Mind you, even if, once in a full moon, you manage to actually focus on your journalism to deliver stellar pieces of writing, if it wasn't for your family, I would already have you demoted to a more menial job for your poor work ethic."

A shadow on Bernstein's face made him look especially menacing in his disappointment. The sun had already left. It was a dark, autumn day outside. The only sources of light in Emily's little office were the holo-monitor of her computer and a wall light imitating the look of an old gas lamp.

"It won't happen again Mister Bernstein, I promise! I've already finished the story about the TX-65 murder case for tomorrow's edition."

Her boss looked around as she tried to appease him. The same feeling of long forgotten journalistic values that was oozing off Bernstein was present in every fiber of the room. Instead of the clinically white material so many corporations used for their departments nowadays, the offices of the Evening Standard were styled with well-polished wood and imitations of early 19th century decorations. After the big newspaper crash of 2022, the Bernstein family bought the business and doubled down on what they called the 'English feeling', thereby carving their own niche in the market.

"Well enough. I trust that you were as objective as always. Omnicide is a controversial topic to say the least."

Emily frowned.

Objective… more like 'nothing too pro-omnic'.

"I… tried, sir."

Her superior regarded her carefully.

"Miss Emily, you are aware of the climate outside?"

"Yes, sir…"

"We wouldn't want a paid gang of anti-omnic goons to come in here to vandalize the building, do we now?"

"Of course not, sir! I tried my best! Martha is reviewing the story, she can surely attest to that!"

"Martha left half an hour ago."

Emily blinked in surprise, looking for the clock on her holo-monitor. It was seven pm.

I slept for two hours?!

Bernstein's voice snapped her out of the surprise.

"Anyways, I've got a job for you…"

Huh?

"Originally Anderson was meant to cover this story, but he got delayed on his way back from Glasgow."

Emily needed a moment to process.

Anderson was supposed to cover…

Her eyes lit up as she began to understand what her boss had offered her just now. Her embarrassment from a moment ago was gone. Instead, she clapped her hands together in excitement.

"The Mondatta speech!"

"I take that as your approval, Miss Emily. The speech is in about half an hour. Just remember to stay obj-"

"Thank you so much Mister Bernstein!"

The red-haired girl didn't even let him finish. She had jumped out of her chair, straight into throwing her arms around Bernstein. She hugged him tightly in a way that he was clearly not comfortable with, then picked her things up in a whirlwind and left through the front door in about the time it took for her superior to readjust his glasses.

A prominent omnic voice echoed across the plaza. The omnic in question was Mondatta, an advocate for coexistence of omnics and humans.

"Bweep?"

"No thanks, I'm fine Cassy."

The cool autumn chill on this evening did not bother Emily and she said as much to her floating companion. She was much too excited for the speech. Something else bothered her much more.

I can't see sh…

"Make sure to have a good view up there!"

CA1 was a small, orb-like machine with two 'eyes' that functioned as cameras and a small screen that it could rotate around its body. This little robot belonged to Emily.

It usually liked to keep the screen below the 'eyes' and show a video of a mouth to emulate being human. Her colleagues were genuinely creeped out by that. Emily just thought it was cute.

"Bwoodee! Bweet-doo!"

"Yes, I know the quality would be better with the latest upgrade. I told you three times now, I can't afford that kind of money."

"Bwoop…"

A large crowd of people, both human and omnic, gathered around to listen to Mondatta's speech in King's Row. Emily arrived moments before the speech had started. Luckily, her simple-minded companion was way less constrained to the ground than she was. CA1 all too happily hovered over the crowd to gather some footage for her.

"Omnic and human… are one within the Iris."

People cheered around her. All Emily could do now was listen. She had a little tablet and stylus with her to take notes, but decided against taking any. Listening to the speech for the first time without distraction was much too important to her.

I'll listen to it on repeat all night anyway.

A chuckle stole its way on Emily's lips. A moment later however, it was replaced by a baffled expression, as she noticed that her little bot had turned away from the stage.

"What are you doing?"

Is he malfunctioning, or just mad because of the upgrade?

A cold shiver ran down her spine. CA1 units were simple, but also known to possess self-aware tendencies. This was about the worst moment for that to manifest. Emily absolutely could not botch this story, or else…

Bernstein will have my hide!

"Cassy please, get the speaker back into focus!"

"Brzzzt!"

It didn't listen to Emily's hushed words. Instead, her little bot floated downwards. Her eyes blinked a few times as she stared into her own face on the little monitor that was capturing what CA1 saw.

"Now's not the time to show me something! We have to…"

Then he rewound the footage.

A scene on the rooftops of King's Row unfolded before her. CA1's sensitive hearing must have detected the distant sound of pulse fire among the volume of the crowd and the loudspeakers. The shots came from a fast moving hero clad in orange and brown colors, hunting for a figure that was difficult to make out behind the night sky.

Emily, however, knew them both too well.

What… here?!

Her heart began to race. Emily turned around immediately and made her way through the masses. Her gaze was glued in the direction of the rooftops above, but she could barely see what was happening.

"Keep your eyes on those two, Cassy!"

There was a faint sound of glass breaking in the distance, drowned out by a loud cheer from the crowd. Emily still tried to make her way through. She felt the need to shout to keep communicating with CA1.

"Where are they?"

"Bwee-zeee!"

Emily followed the eyes of the robot and watched as the two figures reappeared and jumped across a gap between two large rooftops. As she scanned the area, the redheaded reporter quickly decided to take a set of fire escape stairs to get up there. Finally past the crowd, she started to sprint with CA1 following closely above her head, buzzing with excitement.

"Stay focused Cassy! This will be the story of the century! "

Just as they climbed the first few flights of stairs, a deafening pulse explosion shocked the plaza. Emily watched with wide eyes as she saw the two figures up in the air. The mysterious figure, mid fall, had a sniper rifle pointed straight at the hero. A resounding shot pierced the air. The hero however didn't care to be shot and promptly vanished out of sight, leaving behind a light blue aftereffect.

Amazing!

"Have you got that?"

Emily was star struck by the fight happening above as she scaled the stairs as fast as she could, so much so that only shrieks and screams of terror from the crowd below got her out of that trance.

Then she saw the real victim. Unlike hers, CA1's eyes had immediately followed the path of the bullet to its intended destination: Mondatta. She could see the omnic's body, his head crackling with electricity from the impact wound.

Emily's heart sank into her stomach. She could feel herself rapidly getting ill. She couldn't start to comprehend all the implications of this assassination. The situation was bad before, but with this alone London was on the verge of becoming a battleground.

CA1 directed a saddened buzz towards her, drawing Emily out of her thoughts.

"Y-Yeah, we have to go on! We don't want to be down there right now."

Both of them pressed on, as parts of the crowd below got increasingly and audibly riled up. Police sirens roared in the distance. There were three more stories to climb, but they were high enough to hear a high-pitched, panicking voice above on the roof.

"Why? Why would you do this!?"

The roaring engine of an aircraft above drowned out the villains retort. Emily merely heard the same high-pitched voice scream in pain moments later.

Emily's heart got up from her stomach and beat straight into her throat. She motioned for CA1 to be careful, right as they took the last steps of the fire scape stairs. Her companion dared to look up on the rooftop and showed her what he saw by angling his little screen downward. It showed a violet clad woman.

That's… The Widowmaker! The real deal!

A sick sense of excitement and dread got a hold of her. Emily watched her board the aircraft with picture perfect steps worthy of a super model on the catwalk, sniper rifle leisurely leant on her shoulder. The engine sounds grew louder with the liftoff and only moments later, the deadly assassin was gone.

As if waking up from a freeze, Emily shuddered and ran the last steps upwards.

The roof was empty.

Where…?

The air up here was sharp and chilling. She almost didn't catch a small groan coming from below. Emily went up to investigate.

Oh dear god!

There was a smaller roof down there, where a body had crash-landed. Quickly, without really thinking, Emily tried to climb down the steep wall. There was a bulky ventilation unit installed in the middle of the wall which Emily let herself fall to, almost losing her balance. The unit also made squeaky sounds with her weight on it, as if it would give way any minute now.

"Uhm…"

She did not only have to worry about the ventilation unit giving way. Jumping was also not an option. There were still several meters of way to go down and Emily didn't feel like breaking a leg today.

I got myself kinda stranded, haven't I?

Emily grew a bit nervous as she remembered being scared of heights.

"Bweep-bo!"

"Huh?"

The redhead looked a bit concerned at CA1's suggestion.

"A-Are you sure? I mean I have gained a bit of weight…"

Damn, delicious cheesecakes…

"Bweep Bweep Bweep!"

"Okay okay!"

Emily was not convinced, but she got a hold of her little orb-like companion either way. The choices were either that or jumping, no matter how she looked at it. Emily pressed her eyes shut and made a step forward.

She fell abruptly with a yelp and clamored to hold onto CA1. Then both of them slowly descended downwards until Emily had ground back below her feet.

She opened her eyes again and breathed through a few times with immense relief.

"Good… good boy, I'll reconsider on the upg…"

Then she saw the body.

Tracer lay on the ground, writhing and groaning pathetically.

A cold shiver washed over Emily. She hesitated, not knowing what to do. Then she rushed to her idols side. She knelt down beside Tracer and tried her best not to panic.

"A-Are you okay?"

The cargo hold door, upon request, did not close fully until they were well above London.

She liked it that way. Watching the chaos below reminded her of a sprawling, collapsing nest of insects. Prey to the spider, all of them.

There was something unusual though. She saw a red headed girl with a camera robot in tow up on the roof where she had just claimed her latest victory.

Curieux.

Widowmaker contemplated on quickly adding a second victim for the day. That little journalist surely had footage of the assassin leaving the scene. Then she observed her making her way down onto another roof and decided against it.

No use. I already left the foolish girl alive anyway.

There was a smirk on her blue lips, as the cargo hold finally and fully closed. Widow thoroughly breathed through, enjoying the thrills caused by the afterglow of the kill. A small shiver ran through her body.

"You always look so perverted afterwards, do you know that?"

Widow tensed up and her eyes opened wide. She looked around and locked gazes with a girl clothed in shrill, violet colors. Sombra was smirking at her teasingly from a bench on the side of the cargo hold.

That little shit…

"What are you doing here?"

Sombra made a dismissive gesture, looking at her purple fingernails.

"Oh, nothing compañera. Just watching you get off after a kill like you usually do."

"I am not getting off."

She was indeed quite sweaty and felt a bit hotter than usual, but Widow attributed that to the action on the ground.

"Suuure. Where's that blush coming from by the way?"

Widow glared daggers at the Mexican girl. That infuriating smirk was still sticking to Sombra's face like glue. Widow wanted to tear it off, but remained outwardly calm.

"What would interest me more though... what's getting you all hot and bothered? Driving a bullet through some preacher's head? Or… that you bested the little Miss pilot?"

Sombra stood up and circled towards Widow. She held her own chin with the left hand and appraised her colleague curiously, then continued her line of questioning.

"You have a thing for her?"

Widow abruptly took a step towards the extravagantly clothed hacker.

"Vous êtes délirant. If you've just arrived to mock me, I will just kill you in return."

Sombra stumbled back and quickly held up her hands on chest height to calm the situation.

Folding at the slightest hint of pushback, as expected.

If there was anything she liked about her encounters with Sombra, then it were moments like these.

"No no, of course not amiga! Good old Sombra wouldn't do something mean like that! We're friends, right?"

"No."

"Right! Friends! So I thought to myself: "Sombra, what would your good friend think if she knew that somebody had actually predicted her kill?"

Widow raised an eyebrow.

"There's a leak in the organization?"

"No no, nothing mundane like that! Somebody actually wrote a story about you killing Mondatta today."

Widow didn't answer immediately. Sombra's smirk slowly returned as she noticed the tugging on her proverbial fishing pole. She moved closer to her colleague and quickly produced a holographic screen in the air resembling a modern text file format. The document contained paragraphs upon paragraphs. Widow quickly read a few lines, then more, and more. Her amber eyes darted about the holographic page for a while, before she looked at the date of the story.

Somebody wrote this two months ago.

"You're right."

"Of course I am! When the speech was announced back then, someone decided to make this into a fanfic."

Widow looked at her with contempt. She hated these abbreviations of nonsense words that young people used.

"A what?"

"A fanfic! Fan fiction! Come on, you never heard of that? It's when you write fiction about your favorite characters! You're quite popular, you know?"

The idea of having something akin to 'fans' had never occurred to Widowmaker. She didn't quite know how to feel about that, other than annoyed. Sombra continued in the meanwhile.

"This one isn't just about the killing though. It's more of a trigger event for something else. Have you figured out for what?"

Widow frowned. She didn't want to play Sombra's games, but she had indeed figured out the premise and hated how the idea actually intrigued her.

"The foolish girl driven mad by failure."

At this point, the aircraft sat down on the Talon base and the cargo hold door opened outwards. Talon personnel rushed onto the airfield to refuel the bird and see the two agents off.

"Bingo! I'm glad you like the premise, sweetie."

"If you call me that one more time…"

Sombra hurriedly moved to disembark first, turning halfway around to wave at her with wriggling fingers.

"It's in your e-mail account, be sure to take a look! No need to thank me. ¡Diviértete, amiga!"

Widow watched her go with an annoyed gaze. Then she left for the medical examination, as she always did.

On the way, Widow quickly decided for herself that she definitely wouldn't read something that Sombra recommended. For the rest of the day she would also ponder how she could get away with shutting 'that little shit' up for good.

'Adieu Chèrie.'

The words still rang in Lena's ears. They made her sick to the stomach. Well, either that or it was another reaction of her body, still recovering from the shock of hitting solid ground.

Lena heard the engines of an aircraft above the roof she was flung off. She could only imagine that the Talon agent that got her into this predicament used it to leave the scene.

Pain in her chest made her wince. She writhed on cold concrete, shivered and whimpered pathetically. The weight of failure and loss concerning the brutal murder of her idol, Mondatta, and her inability to prevent it crashed in on Lena. It added to the numbing physical agony coursing through her. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she forgot about herself.

"Are you okay?"

Am I okay…? No… I'm so done…

"Can you hear me? Please!"

Lena suddenly realized that this wasn't a voice in her head. It was quite real, as was the hand shaking her at the shoulder.
She instinctively tried to look up and gazed into the light brown eyes of a red-haired girl, beautifully illuminated by moonlight. Her pain was gone for that one moment. Lena felt like she had been struck by lightning, fascinated by the concerned look on the cutely freckled face so close above her own.

"W-Who…"

Then the pain returned with a groan.

"Ah, you're conscious! I'm a j-… I'm Emily!"

Lena wrecked her brain, but couldn't think of knowing an Emily. This must be a civilian from the crowd. She could've died of shame. Tears still kept coming, though she slowly brought them under control, not wanting to look any weaker than she already was.

"Are you hurt?"

"It's… it's fine. I'm fine…"

Tracer lied and attempted to smile, which failed horribly. She slowly tried to steady herself sitting up, but immediately flinched when she moved her left leg. This Emily person held her on shoulder and back so Lena wouldn't just crash back down again.

"You don't look fine at all... I'll call an ambulance."

Lena felt dreadful just thinking about it. The last thing she wanted to do was face more people she had failed.

"NO!"

"O-Okay, no ambulance, got it. Can you stand?"

Lena felt a sudden pang of regret for lashing out like that.

This isn't like me…

Yet this person still wanted to help her so bad. She saw it in those light brown eyes. The concern in them made her want to break down. Lena felt weak. Still, she tried to stand up and flinched a bunch more. Emily stood by her side and helped her on her way into a standing positon.

"The left side is hurting you, right? I'll support you there."

"You don't have to…"

It was too late. Emily had already taken Lena's arm around her shoulder and held her by the side, easing the weight on her left leg. She could feel the red-haired girl's warm body press against hers through the fabric of their clothing. It was weirdly comforting in a way.

"How should I call you?"

She doesn't know me...?

"It's… Lena."

"You don't want to go to a clinic either, right?"

"No, I… I want to go home…"

Lena suddenly felt incredibly drained. The bright smile beside her however made everything a tiny bit less miserable. Together they slowly made their way to another set of fire escape stairs.

"Okay Lena, let's go home!"

Notes:

amigos ~ friends
Curieux ~ Curious
ma Chérie ~ my sweetheart
compañera ~ partner
Tiens, tiens ~ Well, well
ma petite bête ~ My little fool
Vous êtes délirant ~ You are delusional
¡Diviértete, amiga! ~ Have fun, my friend!