A/N: I have GOT to stop writing at 2am. It isn't good for me, for my writing or for you. Still, that being said, I think this went pretty much as I intended it. Thanks to all who have read, followed, favourited and/or reviewed the previous chapter by the way - I'm glad you liked it, and I hope this second chapter is going to be as good as you guys deserve.

Thanks for reading everyone, it really is appreciated! Now, I'm off to bed...

Oh, and thanks to Google Translate. 'Baegchi' is apparently Korean for 'Idiot', which will make sense when you read it.#

Naturally, I don't own Overwatch.

Hana's leg twitched as Angela - no, Doctor Ziegler, she corrected herself - ran her hands over the younger girl's thigh. It wasn't a sensual touch, the doctor was merely checking that her staff had healed the bullet wound properly, and yet the young mech pilot still found her pulse quickening slightly. She wasn't used to such intimate contact, and not from a woman nearly two decades her senior, and yet...

And yet it was not unpleasant. And yet it raised interesting thoughts in her mind, about what Overwatch's team medic wore under her very formal slacks and pale blue T-shirt that the physician's coat almost covered. And yet, and yet...and yet she felt her imagination was running with something that wasn't there.

She lay on the too-cold infirmary bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to think clean thoughts while the doctor did her job, but it was difficult. Normally she was either in her bodysuit or her civilian clothes - she wasn't used to being around anyone, even a doctor, in just her underwear.

"Are you comfortable enough?" Ange- Doctor Ziegler asked, checking along the length of the younger woman's arms, where before there had been myriad small scratches and scrapes. All healed.

"I'm fine." Hana suppressed a wince as her response came out a little too defensively, and forced herself to relax a little. "It's not the first time I've been in my underwear with a beautiful woman." She giggled nervously, even as she mentally cursed her own stupidity.

Smooth, Hana, really smooth, she scolded inwardly. Baegchi.

For her part, Angela laughed off the awkward compliment/pick-up line combo, finishing her examinations and picking up a data tablet from the side of the small bed.

"You're sweet," Angela told her, storing the young woman's medical information for future reference. "And even better, you are fit and well. The miracles of modern technology!" she gave her patient another warm smile, but Hana was too busy trying not to look at the doctor.

She had no idea why she was acting so...girlishly. She was certain that wasn't even a word, but it summed up the idiotic way she'd been acting around the mature, graceful, beautiful doctor, and-

And she really needed to stop thinking of her like that. She was only doing her job.

"Lena has kindly loaned you some of her spare clothes," Angela said, and Hana began sliding off the bed. "You can get dressed just behind the screen."

"Thanks," Hana said quietly, not turning around as she walked off to change and missing Angela's concerned frown.

"D'they fit you alright then, luv?" an unbelievably cheerful voice asked, startling Hana with the speed at which they'd arrived. It was quite literally a blink.

"Enough to keep me decent on the flight home," she told Lena with a grateful - but distracted - smile. The slender woman leaned against a railing as Hana looked out of the window, not really noticing the serenity of the ice field beyond.

"You not staying with us for a while then? Could use someone like you around here," Lena suggested, and the younger woman shook her head.

"I have to go back," Hana said sadly. "I need to train harder. I've allowed myself to get reliant on my mech - I need to improve my first-person shooter skills," she added with a weak smile.

"Shame. I know Lucio was dying to get your autograph. Plus the doc seems to-"

"I didn't thank you, by the way," Hana said quickly, changing the subject. "For stopping that sniper."

"You mean running after her and then staring for five minutes while she gets away," remarked an older woman, her dark skin and the rifle she was stripping down marking her as Ana Amari - a woman who, even at sixty, looked surprisingly good for someone who should be dead. "Again, I might add."

"Hey, I almost caught her this time!" Lena argued, and Ana chuckled.

"Yes, but to bring her in or to ask for her number?"

"Yeah, anyway, I, uh...I got things to sort out, luv," Lena told the mech pilot, her sudden change of attitude speaking volumes about the truth behind Ana's jibes. "Mebbe see you around again, yeah?"

With that, the slender woman was gone in a streak of blue light, and Ana chuckled again.

"I keep telling her, the woman she keeps chasing is no good for her," the old veteran said, tutting like a disapproving mother. Which she was, but not to Lena. She finished cleaning the parts of her weapon, put it back together in record time and stood up, cradling the rifle like a child.

"I'd suggest she ask you out instead," Ana started, before leaning in close to Hana's ear. "But you're rather preoccupied with someone else, aren't you?"

Ana chuckled again as she walked off, leaving Hana alone in the small room with her own thoughts. Thoughts of a fight she nearly lost, of how brutal the brief combat had been outside of her mech...and thoughts of a woman she found incredibly attractive, despite how little time they'd spent in each other's company.

"If it's any consolation, she's too young for you anyway."

Angela bit her lip in thought, watching Hana's transport leave.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about, Jack," she told the gruff old soldier beside her, and he scoffed quietly.

"I'm sure you don't," he answered, his tone dubious. "Y'know, in some states back home, dating a girl her age would be illegal."

"Well it's a good job we're not-"

Angela cut her heated reply short as she saw Jack's knowing smile, the way his shoulder's shook with quiet laughter. She scowled at him and turned away from the window, walking back to her desk and dropping into her chair.

"I still don't know what you are talking about," she muttered darkly.

"You forget how long I've known you, doc," he told her. "I was here when you first joined us, and were like this when you met Fareeha. I just don't get what you see in that kid."

Angela sighed, rubbing her temple with one finger while she attempted to concentrate on the report she was meant to be writing.

"I admire her," she said at last, and Jack frowned.

"What's to admire? She's naive, thinks war is just a game and almost got herself killed because she can't fight without that ridiculous machine of hers."

"You weren't there, Jack," Angela argued, unsure why she was sticking up for a girl who was almost young enough to be her daughter. What bothered her more, however, was why she felt so defensive about the girl at all. She had been a patient for a shorter time than most, but there had been something about those large, expressive brown eyes, the cock-sure attitude, the spill of chestnut-brown hair...

Angela mentally shook herself, attempting to refocus on her work.

"She had more courage than you can see. And, despite her treating combat too much like a videogame, she still fights in defence of her homeland. That has to be worthy of some respect, even from you."

"I still don't see-"

"And she stood up to Reaper."

Alright, that had been a bit of a lie, but not much of one. Besides, she thought, hiding a smile as Jack went quiet, that reaction is priceless.

"That's no small feat, I'll give her that," the former commander conceded, "but it takes more than just standing up to one guy once to be good enough for Overwatch."

"Watch some of her combat streams sometime, Jack, you might be pleasantly surprised."

"Don't hold your breath," he muttered, heading out of Angela's small office area. "See ya later, doc."

Angela absently waved at him as he left, wondering exactly why she was so bothered by Hana's departure.

And why she couldn't get the younger girl out of her mind.