Over the Mediterranean, Fareeha stared out the window of the helicopter longingly, realizing just now how little she had actually traveled outside of her home. She had gone with some friends to Ilios at one point for a vacation, but over these waters, she may as well have been a world away from her tiny apartment.

Angela, on the other hand, subtly went through a folder the pilot had given her, updating the doctor on everything Winston and Lena had been working on since her absense; projects she was sure the two of them had missed her input on. She quickly met with confusion at the lack of a file on Amari, but recalled just as quickly that she was supposed to be constructing one herself, starting with a basic psychological profile.

"Did you do any travel while with Helix?" Angela asked, her nose still deep in her paperwork.

Fareeha turned to her, then lowered her head, "A bit, but nothing outside the region. My mother didn't exactly want me off on whirlwind adventures, getting into trouble; she figured it'd be better if I ran around with rockets near home instead."

Angela couldn't help but hide a smirk at her sarcasm, though her voice remained even, "I couldn't help but notice you staring out the window. Odd behavior for a Raptora trooper, but then again, so is the innate sense to carry other peoples luggage."

Fareeha smiled at her host, "Sort of a mixture between homesickness and excitement. I've already spoken to, uh, Winston? and he assured me that they would have a state of the art suit for me if I were accepted."

Angela eyed her, rather suspiciously, "You've already spoken to them?"

Fareeha watched her with sincere confusion. The problem, as far as Angela was concerned, was that she couldn't know what this recruit already knew, and this, any profiling she was supposed to be doing could very well be in void. The second issue was that she wasn't told this, meaning, perhaps, that she was so far out of the loop, which she supposed she should have figured, given her seclusion.

Still, it bothered her, and while Fareeha watched her blankly, Angela rubbed her thumbs together in thought. It pained her a bit to think that she should be more involved, but perhaps she was just over thinking.

"Is that not normal?" Fareeha asked, "It's was just an introductory sort of thing. Nothing out of the ordinary, I thought."

Angela now eyed her suspiciously, though she didn't say anything. Given this recruit's persistence of that fact, she was now certain that something was going on that she was unaware. However, it wasn't as though her guest would be of use in this sort of intel, so she simply left it in space, turning toward her own window.

"Your call sign was 'Pharah', correct?"

Fareeha nodded before Angela continued, "That have any relation to pharoah?"

Laughing suddenly, Fareeha answered, "No, but I heard that a lot in the military, especially when I began leading units. I don't know; it just sounds Egyptian, and goodness knows I would go around being called Wedjat."

"Yeah, about that," Angela muttered aloud.

Fareeha moved her eyes, as though childishly attempting to see the tattoo that hid so close to her face, "It's just the ancient symbol of protection. It's funny; I hardly ever saw my mother, and to this day, I don't know her whereabouts. But, still, I aspired to be nothing less. She used to be in Overwatch, correct?"

Angela gave a disdainful glare toward her, "Yes, I did read up on that fact."

Fareeha watched her blankly, "I'm sorry, did I miss something?"

Signing dismissively, Angela waved a hand, "It's nothing."

"No, it's something," Fareeha spoke up, more heated than ever in front of her Overwatch escort, her stare only more so fearsome given her tattooed eye.

Angela rolled her head around, "It was just some disagreements is all. It doesn't even matter anymore; literally neither of us have any affiliation with this place."

"And you have no-"

"Drop it," Dr. Ziegler demanded, shooting Fareeha a stare, "I'm not the one under evaluation."

Fareeha shot her a knowing glare before huffing back toward the window, stretching her fingers on her leg to crack her knuckles absently. Angela dropped the file into the nearby briefcase before leaning back into her chair, arms crossed. As far as she was concerned, the evaluation had already ended.

Fareeha was the first to exit the helicopter, holding her hand up to keep her hair from flapping into her face as well as keeping her balance. Angela followed behind her, easily navigating down onto the helipad that sat atop the rather large building that overlooked the strait that took the Mediterranean out into the Atlantic.

Angela directed Fareeha onward, "They'll get our bags for us."

Her guest nodded, quickly turning to a set of doors that led out to where they were. They had open inexplicably, though Fareeha couldn't see anybody coming to greet them. In a blink of an eye, however, the visage of a woman appeared like mist in the air, and Fareeha quickly noticed Angela raising an arm to stop the encroaching apparition.

"Nuh uh!" Angela shouted loudly, as though trying to stop a cat from clawing some piece of furniture.

It had just about the same effect as well; while protecting herself from attack up front, she left her back wide open, and the apparition quickly bolted behind her, taking a hold of the doctor as the body of Lena Oxton suddenly cleared to Fareeha's eyes, nearly forcing Angela to fall face-first into the ground, though she just barely kept her balance.

"Angela!" Lena shouted aloud, "It's been years now! How've you been?!"

Despite the body latching onto her torso in a hug, Angela adjusted her glasses as she stared at Fareeha, speaking bitterly, "Please don't follow her example."

Lena snickered, though it didn't stop her from the hugging, "So you're the newbie? Funny; you look ju- Faheera?!"

Fareeha scratched her face embarrassingly, "Well, actually, it's Fareeha, but yes."

In a split second, Angela fell a slight bit forward, having to readjust her balance, as Lena bolted through the atmosphere toward Fareeha, her eyes wide in admiration, "My goodness! The last I saw you, you were knee high to a grasshopper! Now look at you!"

Lena hopped up, attempting to match her height, leaving Fareeha to simply laugh nervously at the big deal being made. Her eyes met with Angela, who had begun to walk toward the doors, now uninhibited.

"Oh, uh, doctor, do you need anything?"

Angela turned to her, knowing her question to be an attempt to be freed from Lena's introduction, "No, I think you'll be in better hands with our Tracer."

Fareeha frowned at her before Lena grabbed at her hand, shaking it rapidly, "How have you been?! How's your mom?! I kept asking about you two but nobody would ever tell me anything!"

The prisoner of Lena's clutch could only laugh with only a light amusement.

Angela stood in front of a giant sliding door, one she had known well from her past. Winston's office was on the other side; the room where most of the old team's briefings would occur right before leaving on assignment. Despite every official assignment eventually happening outside of the room, most of Angela's most vigorous attacks came here, with her arguing, passionately, on behalf of peace or, at the very most, fewer casualties than were to be expected.

She jumped in surprise as the door suddenly began to open, the loud churning of its engine whirring through the floor. There stood Winston, the pageboy primate-turned-scientist, with an ecstatic smile on his face, though one of more reversnce that Lena's.

"Why hello, Angela; I didn't expect you here yet," he muttered, holding out his paw.

The doctor happily accepted it, though with the grimmest of smiles, "Good seeing you, Winston. I can't say I'm happy to be here, but I sincerely enjoy seeing you once again."

He laughed lightly, "I understand. I was just leaving to find you simply so you wouldn't have to return to this particular room, yet here you are! I apologize."

Angela shook her head reassuringly, "It's fine, really. I didn't take a years-long sabbatical for nothing, you know."

"Well, if you don't mind," Winston replied as he turned back toward his lengthy desk, "Thank you for the trouble, by the way. Pharah has proven to, uh… where is she?"

Shrugging haughtily, alongside a grin, Angela answered, "Lena's giving her the ol' run down."

Winston grinning devilishly, "Well, if she wants to join, she'll have to be able to deal with the most lovingly erratic of us. Now, we certainly aren't reassembling, yet I don't think even you can argue the growing need for us. In that case, we need to be prepared; it's not as if any of us are growing younger."

Angela nodded, though Winston hurriedly rebuffed himself, "Not all of us, of course!"

She grinned, waving off the compliment, "I do appreciate your periodic updates. Age even brought our iron wall down a peg or two, and despite our agreements, I wasn't exactly happy to know about Ana."

Her grin molded into a saddened frown, "Even trained killers only get younger and better."

Winston sighed, "You're still on about that?"

Shrugging, Angela replied, "I don't know how one could see it any other way. Regardless of what for, it's still killing."

She looked over toward the long, boardroom desk that sat in the middle of the large room, "And they had the audacity to turn my talents, my ability to bring life and save people, and turn it into just another method of killing. That was about all I could take."

"I figured that's why you walked away so readily," Winston explained, fixing his glasses as he peered downward, "You didn't exactly explain much before doing so. I like to think I understood you enough."

Angela grinned, "I may be bitter, but I'd like to think I don't hold any ill will toward anybody. Even if Ana or Torb walked in."

She stared seriously toward Winston, "..they're not here, are they?"

Winston laughed, "No, no; you don't have to prove anything, at least not right now. Though, I must admit, I was a bit worried about you escorting her daughter here for me."

"No ill will," Angela repeated, proudly, "And come on, you should expect better from me."

"No, I learned long ago not to set expectations that you will simply break," Winston noted aloud.

Angela nodded knowingly, "Fareeha is a good person. She has a tendency to wax poetic about protecting innocence, but she has a fire in her that will serve this decrepit organization well."

Winston nodded, "I'm happy you didn't forget your responsibility."

"Of course not."

A loud clanging came from the hallway just outside the door, and Winston and Angela both turned to see Fareeha standing there with her old Raptora suit held in her arms, a look of shame on her face, "Uh, Tracer wanted me in the new suit as soon as possible…"

Winston watched her sincerely, "Tracer?"

Fareeha sighed, her head rolling back, "She said that, on this base, I am to refer to her as such."

"That girl," Winston smirked, "If we went by our callsigns, do you have any idea what all I'd be called from before I became a scientist?"

"I believe 'Stuffy McMonkeyface' would have been one, judging by one young zoo patron," Angela opined aloud, leaving Winston with a look of dread upon his face.