Chapter 2
Jamison jostled himself to consciousness bright and early this morning. He marched himself, nice and clean from his nighttime shower, out towards the back of the base. It was dawn, the night shift guards were replaced by day shift guards. 6 AM.
Once clocks struck 8, wakeup alarms sounded. The girls began unloading from their barracks with their little plastic trays of toiletries, as instructed over the PA system, and a towel, to the showers. Regardless of the reference, they were full bathrooms with rows and sinks, showers, toilets, and in the men's case, urinals too.
Jamie stood outside of the door, leaning against the wall next to the doorway and attempting to look suave for his dear, sweet, glistening kestrel. He even took a shower for her, to smell nice of course. Even so, he still wore the pajamas that Overwatch provided him due to his being very radioactively contaminated. They consisted of a long, somewhat baggy white tee and dark blue sweatpants Girls went by one by one, most too groggy to notice him, Mei passing him and giving an unfriendly glare and pout. A couple more girls went by, and finally, Pharah appears. Her hair was tied back messily, the front strands bound by her usual locs. Her least favorite rat was pleased to see that the symbol under her eye wasn't makeup, but a tattoo! Only real badasses have face tattoos, right?
" 'Ello there, my dear Fareeha!" Jamie squawked out at the half-awake woman. She halted in her tracks defensively, gasping. The line of three women behind he all crashed into one another. At the very end was Zarya. She stepped aside embarrassed, and glared at the taller man jn front of her. "I'm not going to have this." She growled. Jamison looked at the bouquet of damaged daisies he had picked in his hand. "Oi, I mean its the best I could find but it ya say so.."
"No, Junkrat." Fareeha had some awful venom to her voice. "I've heard plenty enough about you and your "line of work". I refuse to be some partner of yours off the battlefield. Do I make myself clear?" The firmness in her voice, such a strong woman, physically and behaviorally. Pharah was only in a white tanktop and dark blue, cloth shorts with a white drawstring. She was toned just enough to be insanely impressive to the Junker. The scolding only seemed to riled up the junker more, all red in the face and chuckling some wild giggle. "Oh-ho-ho, CRYSTAL!".
A moment after, he heard heavy steps climb the stairs from the women's barracks. Someone big.
"Oi Roadie? That you down there, you sly dog!" turning to peek down the steps, only to be greeted face to face with Commie Thunder. The woman who could shatter a mountain, a Russian legend rivaling Rasputin himself, and she looked angry.
The night prior, Pharah sat on her bed, next to Mei's, and across from Aleksandra's. They both sat up and listened as she talked about the Junker's flirty approach. She sounded a bit flattered but disgusted. Still, she continued to refer to him as Jamison and once she described him, the cheery pink in Mei's cheeks drained. "Oh no, Fareeha..." Mei wasn't scared to interrupt. "What? What's wrong?"
"An Australian like that..He's probably the most horrible man here. I recently traveled to Australia to investigate the weather created due to radiation. The city at safest distance from the storms was called Junkertown. There were very few rules, but one was that Junkrat wasn't allowed inside. I asked around about him and I was given a description that fits his very well...I've heard so many different stories about how he came to be banned from such an awful, crime-ridden place. Things like him planting bombs on other Junkers who were going into the main square, or brutalizing a whole bar full of people, and the worst rumor was that he had...raped their queen."
Pharah's eyes went wide in shock and distress, worried at what she may have had forced upon her and what may still be. Zarya stood up and walked over to the foot of her bed and squatted in front of her. "I refuse to let such a vile man come near you with any force. He's nothing but scum, don't give in to his demands, don't let him force himself onto you. I will crush him if you ever need." Her eyes were wide and wild, practically crazed, and stared Fareeha dead in the eyes. "Oh..Okay...thank you, comrade." Pharah forfeited. She at least felt safe.
Safety, right now, was far from the Junker who was practically shitting himself on the spot. He reared his head away from the doorway, shrinking up into the corner he was very close to. "O-Oh hello comrade!" The rat attempted to not...offend this bear of a woman any further. She had that wild look on her face again.
"If you touch my friend here, we will have a misunderstanding. That would be very unfortunate for you."
"oh" He peeped meekly.
"If it happens, I will crush you. I hope that is understandable."
This kinda of stern and intimidating was just terrifying, much less sexy. "N-No, haha! She was just telling me not to act all randy around her, message received, won't happen again, ma'am!" Smiling widely, nervously, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he trembled. Quickly, he ran away to the men's barracks.
"I have your back, comrade!" She smiled at Pharah happily, one hand on her hip and one at Pharah's eye level, her friend shaken at the intensity that her Russian ally brought to the table.
"High five, comrade!"
"Oh, right...thank you, Aleksandra." Fareeha obliged and clapped her palm to Zarya's, met with her hand being firmly held on to.
"I can break him."
"O-Oh I think he gets the message, hopefully he'll be a bit more platonic if anything now, no worries its...its fine.."
"I can, I will if you tell me." She kept that wild look through her smile. Then, proceeding to release her friend's hand.
"Come along, we must go bathe and stretch and prepare for the day, dear comrade!"
Pharah was frightened by the behavior and insistence, but decided not to comment, following her friend to the showers. Zarya simply sees that since Ana isn't around, she would be a strong... "feminine" figure in Fareeha's life. Even though unrequested.
Back in the barracks, Junkrat sat across from his friend. Roadhog sat on the side of his bed in his comedically-sized-to-fit boxers and listened to the rat prattle on about how his woman was being stolen by some crazy, butch, commie superlesbian. "I mean, maybe I should give her some space, but she might just be playing hard to get! This just means I'll have to be more...subtle. Act more friendy-like. Not try to get into her pants, she ain't like them girlies back home. Real upstanding."
Roadie huffed once. He breathed in a bit harder and stared at his friend through his mask, pausing.
"Why do you smell like baby shampoo, Jamison."
(AN: Hey. Ive seriously been enjoying writing this, but I lost my original document to the second chapter. This won't be as good but if Im able to get it again, Ill definitely re-post the second chapter how it was meant to be read. Any criticisms, positive or negative are welcome.)