"A spider does not share its prey".

Back at the Overwatch Base of Operations, Lena had spent the past few hours going through those very words in her head. Something about what Widowmaker had said to her had made her feel nervous, maybe even slightly excited, though she wasn't sure why.

So far, her night was filled with tossing and turning, over thinking and unwavering yellow eyes boring into hers every time she closed her own.

She wasn't by any means scared of the blue skinned assassin, quite the opposite actually; Lena wanted to know more about her, like what was behind the expressionless facade that she'd become so accustomed to?

Least I know she won't shoot me, that's somethin'.

With a sigh, she got up out of bed. Not like she could sleep after what had happened anyway. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed and letting her feet hit the cold metallic floor, she rummaged around in the dark for her clothes; thanks to the light bursting from her chest, she quickly found a pair of leggings and a thick jumper to throw on.

Changing clothes was a difficult task for Tracer, she'd had to cut the middle out of all her shirts- at least if she didn't want to hide who she was. She often took her accelerator casing off, leaving a glowing blue circle on her chest and a similar one on her back. It was a practical low energy mode for certain activities such as showering, changing and sleeping easier. Lena compared it to the relief of taking a bra off after a long day. Though it had its disadvantages, she was unable to rewind or blink without it, making it essential for battle operations.

After readjusting her accelerator to fit over her clothes and chucking a pair of shoes on, she took one last sweeping look at the room before heading out the door.

It was dark, though Lena had expected it to be. Not many of the agents would be awake at this hour, or so she thought. She let the blue light from her chest illuminate the quiet hallway. Even in a safe place such as this, Lena thought it was eerie without the usual bustling around.

Not really sure what to do or where to go, Lena decided to just let her legs navigate herself quietly down the corridor; hopeful to find something to do or someone to talk to, anything to get her mind off of the French woman who constantly invaded her thoughts.

She had wondered what the assassin was doing in her downtime; was Lena on her mind at all? Was she having trouble sleeping too? Does she even sleep? What does an assassin even do when they aren't assassinating? Frowning to herself, Lena ran a hand frustratingly through her unruly hair and kept walking.

Even something as simple as running a hand through her hair made her think of the tall French woman, or rather, the cool fingers that had played with her brown tresses just a few hours previously.

I ain't even gonna deny that felt bloody good.

While her mind wandered, she hadn't realised that the path her legs had taken her to was towards Winston's laboratory. Her eyes lit up; she'd be able to find some information on Widowmaker in here, wouldn't she? Surely Athena had files on the Talon sniper. Without knocking, she slipped inside quietly.

It was as dark as the rest of the base, just Athena's screens lighting up the lab in a dim glow. She could see Winston's armour leaning against the far wall as well as a tire hanging from the ceiling. Unsurprisingly, she found various red peanut butter lids strewn across the floor near the desk.

Looking around, she was unable to see her scientist friend. "Wiiiiinston," She whispered. "You awake, love?"

No answer.

She sighed and made her way over to Athena's monitors, unsurprised to find them online. Plonking herself down on the tire in front of the desk, she gazed up at the many monitors lining the walls; eyes darting here and there, searching the bright screens which held hundreds of tiny icons-seriously, how does Winston find anything on these?- for any signs of top secret files. Lena knew it'd be a long shot, she imagined Winston would hide them better than leave them on an open server. Still... might as well check, yeah?

Frowning at the screens, she tapped a few of the files that looked more promising, only to end in dead ends.

She did however, find a few old Overwatch photos from back in the good ol' days. Flicking through them, she found one that made her giggle from the memories; her twenty fourth birthday with Winston, Angela, Fareeha, Hana, Lúcio, Aleksandra, Mei, and Reinhardt- All wearing party hats with smiles on their faces, and surrounding Lena who sat in front of a huge cake, which was shaped like the RAF logo on her old pilot jacket.

Lena smiled, tapping her fingers against the screen to find more.

Another she came across looked like a girls night out with Angela and Fareeha. With drinks in their hands, both of them looked completely at ease; Fareeha with her arm around Angela's shoulders and a grin on her face while the blonde leaned into her. That made Lena snort. So gay.

I'll have to ask Winston the next time I see him for a few of these, they're pure gold!

That was until one of the very last photos caught her eye.

Gérard's Wedding.

Lena sucked in a breath and hesitated, fingers hovering in front of the screen. She knew this would make her feel worse and yet, she couldn't help it. Curiosity getting the better of her, she touched her fingertip down to enlarge the images anyway.

And here you thought you couldn't feel any worse. Good job, Lena. Full marks for trying.

The old photo showed Gérard and Amélie looking happily at the camera; dressed smart with smiles on their faces, surrounded by friends and family.

She hadn't really known Gérard very well, but she still felt sadness as she looked up at his smiling face. Poor bloke. Lena swallowed thickly and leaned closer to get a better look, taking in all the details of the other figure next to him.

Amélie was just as beautiful as she remembered; her then shorter, dark raven hair up in intricate styled bun with odd pieces framing her face. The smile playing on her painted red lips was small but her light green eyes were warm and showed genuine happiness. Happiness I haven't seen since, Lena thought sadly. Her pale skin glowed as well as the attractive light blush that fanned across her cheeks.

Wow, cute. I wondered what she'd look like while blushing-

"Lena?"

She jumped a mile, blinking herself into a defensive stance before realising who had called her. So caught up with the image on the screen, she hadn't heard Winston approaching his desk.

She ran a hand tiredly over her face and slumped back down on the tire. "Jesus Christ, Winston! Can you not sneak up on me like that? Almost had a heart attack!" Clutching her chest, she felt her heart beating wildly against her hand.

A deep chuckle resonated from his throat as he sat next to his friend. "Sorry, Lena." He adjusted his glasses before looking up at the screen. A frown. "Are you looking for something?"

Lena quickly closed down her tab, removing the image from sight. She shrugged, trying her best to look cool and nonchalant. "Jus' some files on Talon agents," She picked at a stray piece of string on her jumper, not making eye contact; feeling like a child that had been caught stealing sweets. "You got any you can share?" She asked, looking up with a hopeful expression.

Winston straightened up and peered down at the young girl, knowing exactly what she was looking for. He decided to play along however, at least until she confirmed his theories.

"Hmph," He grunted, pulling himself up and making his way over to one of the cabinets that lined the wall. A key code and a fingerprint scan later, he began thumbing through the files that resided there, glancing over his shoulder briefly. "Is there anyone in particular you wanted files on?"

"Oh… um, got any on Widowmaker? Y'know, so I can learn more about my… enemy, obviously. Need to know her weaknesses and… stuff." She winced.

I'm officially the worst liar ever.

If Winston could tell how awkward Lena had become- let's be honest, I'm bloody terrible at lying. There's no way he couldn't- he didn't show it, only pushing aside a few files to find the one he was looking for, before making his way back over to the desk and handing it over.

It was a surprisingly thin file, not as much as she'd hoped to have. She decided against asking for any more possible information however, being too eager would raise suspicion- if she hadn't already.

"Right, well… Thanks, love! I'm just gonna go do some researching so uh, I'll see you tomorrow!" Backing her way towards the door, she turned and called out a quick "g'night!" before blinking out of sight, leaving Winston to his thoughts.

Slumping down on his tire, he sighed. "Oh, Lena… I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Back in her room and sitting cross legged on her bed, Lena pored over the file contents that she'd procured from Winston.

[REAL NAME: Amélie Lacroix]
[AGE: 33]
[NATIONALITY: French]
[OCCUPATION: Assassin]

[AFFILIATION: Talon]
[BASE OF OPERATIONS: Annecy, France]

She frowned, this was the most basic of information; information that she already knew of. The rest of the file contents included newspaper clippings of past assassinations; none of them confirmed to be the Talon sniper, however the small clues of each assassination all fit Widowmaker's style.

Each shot landed straight between the eyes of the victim, very precise, no mistakes. The bullets recovered from the body were sized to 14.5x114mm, a favourable ammo size for great distances- something she knew Widowmaker had the patience and precision for.

She was hoping for more story on how Amélie had been reconditioned. The most she knew about the whole ordeal was that the French woman had been targeted and captured because Talon was unable to get a hold of her husband, Gérard. And that Talon had indoctrinated her; turning her into a living weapon, drastically slowing her heart rate and numbing her ability to experience human emotion.

Numbing them, but not completely erasing them.

Lena's mind raced. She'd already proved to herself that the assassin was able to show small amounts of emotion, thanks to her own pestering. Tiny cracks were forming in Widowmaker's armour and Lena wondered if there was more waiting for her under the stoic demeanour.

She had so many questions, most that she probably wouldn't get answers to. The one that she constantly wondered about was how strong Talon's hold on Widowmaker was, even Lena could clearly see that their reconditioning was failing. Was Amélie fighting to get out? And if so, was there a way to bring her back?

She looked down at the profile pictures of the woman in question, both before and after. Even blue skinned and yellow eyed, she was beautiful. Her eyes were what held Lena's attention the most; they were emotionless and yet, Lena remembered them differently in a past time. It was difficult to say the least, seeing her old friend drastically changed in this way. She hadn't told a soul that she'd harboured a small crush on Amélie years ago, though she wondered how many people had guessed- especially Winston and Angela.

Whatever happens, I will save her.

Little did she know, the assassin was closer than she knew.

Peering through her scope and swathed in the shadows a few blocks away, Widowmaker watched every move Tracer- no, Lena made. Although her finger twitched, she held it off the trigger. This wasn't how the girl would die, it would be too boring. No challenge in shooting the pest of a girl without her blinking around as usual.

Why was she here? She wasn't even sure herself. Whatever it was, she had the sudden impulse to seek the girl out. She could rule out that information was what she wanted, he couldn't care less about how much information Talon had on their enemy, as long as it didn't hinder her own plans.

No, what Widowmaker was interested in however, were the files in the girl's lap.

Tiens tiens, she is reading about me. Does she hope to gain the upper hand? Oh, chérie… I always hit my mark.

The assassin could think of no other explanation other than that as to why the Overwatch agent had her files. There was a look of concentration on the girl's soft features as she read what Widowmaker could see were old newspaper clippings.

Focusing the scope to zoom closer, her eyes narrowed as she noticed the girl's facial expression morph into one of sorrow. It was an expression she wasn't used to seeing on the usually cheery Brit's face. Flicking her eyes down to see what the girl was looking at, she raised an eyebrow in surprise, seeing a photo of her own face.

An intense piercing pain shot through her head, making her stumble backwards. She struggled to breath, gasping for breaths as she clawed at her head; black spots appeared in her vision, her heart thumping loudly in her ears, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Closing her eyes tightly, the assassin clutched a hand to her chest and dropped to her knees in agony.

Merde this is too much, I can't-

[MEMORY FLASHBACK]

She was in a room, the sun filtering in through the open balcony window, a light breeze tickled her face. Sat in front of her vanity, she admired the engagement ring that sat on her finger. There was no doubt that it was a beautiful ring, she was told that the small green gemstone matched her eyes perfectly.

She felt a small hand drag itself through her hair, brushing it away from her face and lightly scratching at her scalp. The contact was enough for her to close her eyes in bliss.

"Gérard's a lucky bloke, y'know?" Lena told her, a smile in her voice.

She let out a short laugh, opening her eyes for a moment to look at the figure in the mirror's reflection. The sight of her spiky haired friend was a welcome one.

"Mhm, funny. Most people call me the lucky one, chérie".

The scratching at her scalp stopped as two small hands were gently placed on her shoulders; the pads of Lena's thumbs stroking small circles at the back of her neck. A familiar giggle appeared next to the shell of her ear.

"I meant what I said, love".

[MEMORY FLASHBACK END]

She gasped, filling her lungs with the cool night air. Still curled up in pain, the assassin waited for it to subside; both hands clutching at her head, her nails digging themselves into her scalp.

Eyes snapping open, Widowmaker found herself back on the roof of the building. Blinking a few times until her vision focused, she sat up slowly and groggily, massaging her throbbing temple with her cool fingertips.

Her eyes quickly swept the area and to her relief, she found herself alone.

Breathing calmly with a hand over her chest, she worked on slowing her still accelerated heart rate, her mind racing from what she saw.

A memory?

An old one at that. Tracer was without her accelerator that time, no bright light producing from her chest at all. They appeared to be friends with each other, that much was certain. Her skin had been pale ivory, as opposed to the pale blue it was now. And the ring on her finger… The one her late husband had proposed to her with. Gritting her teeth, she wondered why this particular memory had resurfaced, and what had caused it.

Staying low, she crawled over to her rifle which she'd dropped a few feet away. Bringing the scope up to her eye, she searched for the Overwatch agent.

No such luck, the girl had closed her curtains and shut the lights off. She could barely see a faint blue light protruding through the sheets of cloth that hung in front of the window.

With a sigh, Widowmaker lowered her rifle. She knew she wouldn't get any more out of tonight.

She wanted answers, and she knew her questions could only be answered by the pest that currently slept not more than two hundred yards away.

Bringing a hand up to activate the comms unit which was built into her visor, she requested a pick up at the nearest extraction point, which was a few miles away; better to be further away from the Overwatch Base, wouldn't want to stir any suspicion.

When asked if she required any 'medication', she hesitated slightly before declining.

Really, she should have had another reconditioning session. She was sure Talon would reward her for coming forward, it had been quite a while since her last session after all.

But did she want to become a blank slate again? After today's events with Tracer, after how alive she felt? She hadn't even killed to have that feeling, the bubbly British girl had managed to worm her way in and caused that all by herself.

No, she thought. I will have my questions answered. One way or another.