Disclaimer: Overwatch and all characters associated with it belong to Blizzard Entertainment. GrimGrave does not make money out of writing fiction.
The slightly disarranged mind of GrimGrave presents some Sombra x Widowmaker - because it was only a matter of time. Consider this a prequel to a future installment.
A Friendly Chat
"I don't have time for your games," was a phrase Sombra had heard many a times, but not once had it discouraged her from doing what she wanted; getting the assassin's attention. Today was no different.
"You keep saying that," the Mexican replied. "But it's hardly a game; just a little friendly conversation between two Talon agents."
Widowmaker scoffed and turned on her heel to leave for her quarter in the makeshift Talon base. "I am not interested in conversations outside of operations, Sombra."
The hacker chuckled and disappeared through her thermoptic camo and reappeared in front of the assassin. She could move very quickly when she was invisible, and she knew that Widowmaker didn't like it. "I have had enough of your cold shoulder, amiga. Let's chat a little, okay?"
The Frenchwoman glared an icy glare at her fellow Talon agent, lips pursed into a tight line. When the Mexican didn't budge she rolled her eyes. "Very well; what is it you want to waste my time with this time?"
"I just want to get to know my partner a bit better," Sombra replied with a sly smile. She took a seat on the metal railing of the catwalk bridge they were on. "We will be working together a lot for a while, so why not?"
Widowmaker arched an eyebrow. "Is this a joke? You surely already know everything about me, hacker."
Sombra snickered. "I could find out all about you on my own, but a conversation is a lot nicer, don't you think? The pleasure lies in the exchange after all!" She clapped her hands once. "For example, how far does that weapon of yours reach?"
"Much longer than you can manage to run," the assassin dryly replied. "And faster, too."
The hacker laughed. "That's neat! My machine pistol doesn't have that much range, but it packs quite a punch!" She waved her weapon around in front of her. "See; looks neat, doesn't it?"
The Frenchwoman furrowed her brow. "Am I supposed to be impressed, Sombra? As long as it's functional, I do not care."
"A woman of few words, as always." Sombra laughed. "At least indulge me and talk, why don't you? The better we know each other, the better our synergy will be out in the field."
"There is no need for "synergy"; you do the hacking and follow your orders, and I follow mine." She turned to leave and glanced back at the Mexican. "I have wasted enough time with this game of yours."
The cyber-punkish woman rolled her eyes and created a holographic screen between her index fingers and thumbs. If there was one thing the Frenchwoman had to admit to herself, it was her fascination with how Sombra treated thin air like a screen with information and tools for her job, available wherever she were.
The hacker was annoying, but useful.
Multiple screens and images appeared as if the women were looking at a wide computer and it took the assassin a few seconds to realize what was happening. She stepped forward and with venomous spite in her tone she asked, "What do you think you're doing, Sombra?"
The Mexican smiled a wicked smile. "Isn't it obvious? This is intel about you, amiga. Imagine what would happen if I were to send it to the wrong people…"
The gaping maw of Widow's Kiss – Widowmaker's rifle – was firmly pressing against Sombra's cheek less than a second later. "Do you wish to court death, hacker?" The assassin had expected her companion to at least show some sign of fear over the realization of her situation. Was she not aware how close to death she was?
The slightly younger woman chuckled. "I am just showing you that I'm not playing any games, Amélie." She smirked when the lilac-haired woman's eyes lit up for a moment before that frigid stare returned. No-one used the assassin's former name lightly, and Sombra knew that. "So there is no time being wasted here. Let's talk."
"You are a tough nut to crack, femme," Widowmaker finally replied. She withdrew her weapon, but she did not look pleased. Then again, when did she ever do that? "Speak if you have something to say."
"Don't be hasty now," the Mexican said. "Let's make this a bit more interesting. Tell you what: I ask you a question and in return, you can ask me something, anything at all. Deal?"
"If it means that you will leave me alone, then I accept."
Sombra beamed – the mischievous, don't-know-what-she's-thinking kind of smile – and softly giggled.
"Great!" she began. "Then let me ask you; what do you think of me?"
The Frenchwoman arched a single eyebrow, unamused. "You are an annoyance, but you have your uses."
Sombra laughed again at that. "That's not very nice."
"I was under the impression that you, with your skills, would want the truth. My turn," Widowmaker stated. "Why do you keep dogging me to socialize with you?"
The hacker, to the assassin's slight surprise, went somber; although she still smiled, it lacked the same confidence and playfulness she usually displayed. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but she didn't. The Frenchwoman said nothing.
Then she chuckled and looked up at Widowmaker. "What can I say, amiga? You're strong and carry yourself with a certain air that…" Her voice trailed off for a second or two. "You're catnip for a woman like me, Widowmaker."
The Frenchwoman eyed her, puzzled. "What does that mean?"
"It's my turn to ask a question," Sombra interrupted. "Are you capable of feeling emotions?"
"Besides the satisfaction of a job well done, or the sensation of being alive when I snuff out the flame of life from my enemies: no." She looked at her fellow Talon agent with a patronizing look. "These are specific questions."
"I have my reasons." The Mexican clicked the roof of her mouth with her tongue. "Looks like I don't have much time for this, ironically. I will see you later, Widowmaker."
"Hold it." The hacker stopped mid-step and the assassin grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing their eyes to meet. "I still have a question for you. What is it you hope to gain from socializing with me?"
The glint in Sombra's eyes almost had the Frenchwoman step back yet she didn't flinch or pulled away when a thermoptic-suit-clad hand cupped her chin.
"You said it yourself; I'm a tough nut to crack." She grinned at her, a grin worthy of the fabled Cheshire Cat. "You figure it out, encantadora."
As the hacker slowly went invisible she let go of the Frenchwoman's chin and, with a playful "Boop!" tapped her on the nose before vanishing completely.
Annoyed and rather confused, the assassin resumed her previous agenda, i.e. her quarter. She peeked back behind her after a few steps, the edges of her lips curving slightly upward.
"What a peculiar woman."