Based off a character interaction in chapter 2 of kaithelonechampion's story Catch and Release.

Collection

She had been just wanting to ask him to come down to the targeting range for some shootout practice. It was only unlucky then that he had just been busy playing holo games all afternoon, and had needed to go to the restroom to let out a number one. In the process of rushing there, he didn't bother locking his quarters.

And so when Tracer had blinked into the room, being the hyperactive girl she was, she had found only an upturned bowl of half-eaten cheese rashuns, and a paused holo game screen.

And a collection of Sheriff Woody dolls.

McCree was always one to keep his room private and sealed off from the others, unless their name was Gabriel Reyes, the moniker of his former Blackwatch commander, who had perished in the destruction of the Overwatch base in Switzerland.

But seeing the cowboy's cache of – well – cowboys, brought a goofy smile to Lena's face and a dainty giggle in her throat.

And that was when she spotted the blatant and most obvious evidence that McCree had sprinted for the toilets. His forsaken hat on the floor, to be precise.

Bending down to pick up the novelty item, Lena got a mischievous idea…

That number one had gone on longer than expected.

The cowboy agent had let out a relieved sigh as he exited the men's room.

Something that didn't go unnoticed by the resident doctor as she passed by.

"You've been playing video games all afternoon, have you?"

"Sure thing, partner."

"Well just make sure that you don't put your urinary and faecal tracts on hold next time, Agent McCree. We wouldn't want me to spend an afternoon extracting your bodily waste from the inside out, now would we?"

"Uh… no… no we wouldn't, doctor…" was all McCree could mumble, some sick just rising into his mouth at the moment.

"That's good, off you go then," said Mercy.

McCree made a move to tip his hat to the lady, but found out that he had left it behind when his hand grasped empty air.

"Hmm, boys will be boys," chuckled Mercy, shaking her head as she entered her lab down the hall.

"That was awkward," McCree muttered the cliché response as he made his way back to his room. It was just inconvenient then that Torbjorn had happened to chance upon the western's little conversation with the doctor, and had decided to poke a little fun at him.

"You know, son," the Swiss engineer suddenly piped up, making the poor cowboy jump, "When I was a wee lad, my parents raised me to view video games as a waste of time."

"Technically, TBJ, they are holo games…"

"The name's Torbjorn, laddie! And don't ye forget it!" the smith said, swinging his hammer about.

"Watch it, ol' man! I can't game or fight with another arm missing!"

"I'm just trolling ya," sighed the Swiss in exasperation, "Now off ye go, back to your world of digital bullets and figurines."

The smith then clobbered away muttering, "Kids. Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em. Although they would be easier to tolerate if they weren't hooked to holoscreens all the time. Video games! Bah humbug! What's next? A digital gaming merchandise featuring the agents of Overwatch in an online worldwide deathmatch? The world these days…"

After watching the old Swiss warhorse hobble off, McCree was now certain that the longtime engineer had a few screws loose, no pun intended.

Right now the western agent just resolved to get back to his quarters and finish his current level before dinner time. He was certain that Pharah, Overwatch's resident cook, wouldn't spare him some leftovers if he was late again.

He had just entered the proximity of his quarters when he heard an unmistakable giggle.

"Oh. My. God," said a light voice with a clipped British accent.

"Miss Oxton?" McCree gaped as he stared at the resident speedster standing in the middle of his room. Lena yelped and her cheeks flushed so furiously that the cowboy almost laughed at the sight. As if she was a little girl caught sneaking into her big brother's room.

"Now, would y'all mind telling me what you're doing in mi casa?"

In a flash, Lena had blinked to just a meter before him and started gesturing her arms around frantically as she meekly mumbled out apologies.

"Oh Jesse! I'm-so-sorry-I-wanted-to ask-you-out-for-target-practice…"

A pause to catch her breath…

"But-you-weren't-there-and-now… I just had to look around because of my stupid childlike curiosity and I think I may have found your collection of Woody dolls!"

"That's fine," laughed McCree.

"That's… fine?" Lena repeated, growing mildly confused, "I just invaded your privacy and found out one of your deepest secrets, and that's fine to you?"

"Totally. And I wouldn't call my secret collection a deep secret, but anyhow the question that I do have for you is what are you doing wearing my hat?"

"Oh, that, um…" Tracer sputtered before resyncing her train of logic, "I'm McCree! Howdy howdy howdy! It's high noon!"

Okay, the speedster girl did imitate him in a cheesy way, but unlike Lucio, who McCree had pummelled when the Brazilian saw it fit to mock his catchphrase, Lena actually looked cute when she adopted his stance and played a lower-pitched version of her voice in an attempt to emulate his grandeur.

"Well, I'll be doggone Ms Oxton, that was one of the best western portrayals I've ever been fortunate enough to be an audience to."

"Thanks! I always volunteered for my high school plays when I was still a junior. You should visit my room one time. We could watch some recordings of my college dramas."

"That sounds dad-gum fine to me. I'll schedule a booking next week."

"Sweet," Tracer chirped, shyly focusing her gaze on the floor in front of her now, "So, see each other in the mess hall?"

"Sure thing. My gizzard instincts say that Pharah has cooked up a five-star five-course meal for night brunch," responded McCree.

"Alright, bye for now luv," farewelled Tracer, blinking away after a wave so quickly that the cowboy couldn't even give his own bon voyage salute.

Mei took up a bowl of her favorite dinner dish of shrimp dumplings and noodles and brought it over to one of the many tables in the huge dining facility that the Gibraltar base contained. As she made her way to sit down, she noticed Jesse with a goofy smile plucking absentmindedly with his fork at his chili.

"Well it seems someone is in a colourful mood today," she perked up in greeting to him. He clearly wasn't expecting it as he let out a yelp of surprise.

"Mei? How long have you been staring?"

"Sorry sorry sorry," the Chinese scientist gave her usual timid apology to something that she wasn't at fault for, "I wasn't staring, but I did notice that you were in a dreamy state of bliss at the moment."

"How come nobody ever told me Miss Oxton was hot?"

"Sorry but… excuse me?" Mei queried.

"Just this afternoon, she snuck into my room, intending to ask me to spar with her on the shooting range, but instead just decided to play with my hat and impersonate me when she found… well, that last bit is just between me and her, 'kay?"

"Ah, found yourself a soulmate have you?" asked Mei.

"Nonononono, it's not what you think. Not like that," sputtered McCree.

"Yet," teased Mei.

"I might just consider moving away from this spot, ya know."

"Good, then I won't have your tobacco polluting my airspace."

McCree sighed and shook his head with an exasperated smile. He was too busy gazing at Tracer, who was occupying herself with chattering to Winston and Reinhardt. The cowboy was barely aware that Mei had scooted a bit closer to whisper something to him.

"You'd better make a move before some other boy does. You know that right?"

McCree shook his head somberly.

A cute and hyper girl falling for a roguish scoundrel like him?

What were the chances?

Still… you'd never know until you try…

"Perhaps…" the cowboy responded slowly, deep in thought at the moment.

There will be a coda to this! Don't worry!

Merry Christmas everyone!