Final exams are dooming upon me! Sorry about the wait, thank you for being patient (:

Emily paced back and forth in her room, unable to keep her mind off of Tracer. She hadn't royally screwed up this bad in months.

Emily was no stranger to long distance. Tracer had often spent weeks, sometimes months, away from home. Emily reminisced over those temporary moments of loneliness. She hated every second of it. And now, she was in bed with some woman she barely even knew. Again.

Emily always hated herself immediately after engaging in one night stands. Yet, she kept having them, like some wicked addiction. Tracer was completely and utterly oblivious to Emily's little flings with women.

It was completely normal to want physical attention when you were lonely, right? It wasn't cheating if you didn't feel emotionally attached to the person you were in bed with. Besides, the sexual encounters were entirely that: meaningless.

Bullshit, Emily. And you know it. You have always known it.

The overwhelming feeling of guilt dawned upon Emily. Avoiding Tracer was not going to solve anything. Emily loved Lena.

If she truly loved Lena, would she have betrayed her trust like this?

Emily tiptoed out of the woman's room and exited the apartment without a second thought. She zipped up her sweatshirt and ran down the sidewalk, not entirely sure where she was going. She just needed to clear her mind.


Tracer peered at the assassin in front of her, not daring to move. She had been watching her for one day, fearing the worst. Yet, the small rises on Widowmaker's chest assured Lena that everything would be alright.

McCree fled to the meeting point and left Tracer a vehicle, allowing her to safely evacuate the location. Tracer assured McCree that she was alive and fine over the phone.

Tracer really needed to move. She stood up from her chair and stretched, feeling automatically relaxed.

It was apparent that Widow wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. Lena went to her bedroom in order to retrieve her laptop, before once more plopping down on the chair situated in the guest room.

Amélie Lacroix.

Lena plugged in Winston's flash drive, automatically opening the content. Amélie Lacroix. It was a beautiful name.

Tracer stopped at a specific page, wandering her eyes over it. Gérard Lacroix. Important member of Overwatch. Spearheaded operations against international terrorist organizations.

Tracer glossed over his report, taking note of the hundreds of operations he was involved in when Overwatch was operating to its fullest extent.

The list of operations abruptly ended as she read the final note on Gérard's page. Gérard was killed in his sleep by unknown Talon operatives. His wife was kidnapped by Talon twice. She was more than likely deceased.

It was at this moment that Tracer felt her heart sink.

Tracer remembered Overwatch members glossing over the incident years ago, but in secrecy. Talking about what happened to the Lacroix couple had been some sort of taboo. Tracer had been new to Overwatch; she didn't think much of the "tall tale" at the time. The Lacroix family was dead. Tragic, but plain and simple.

Widowmaker didn't feel right. A calm tranquility overcame all of her senses, and she felt a warm irritation on her nose. She opened an eye and felt an awkward sensation of familiarity.

Widowmaker immediately sat up when she saw Lena across from her, sitting in an uncomfortable looking wooden chair. Lena looked like she hadn't had proper sleep in weeks.

"Morning, love. You've been out for one day."

"What happened?" was all Widowmaker could think to say.

"Um, well..." Tracer's voice trailed off. "Long story short, you got knocked out. The building blew up, but I managed to get us out safely before it did."

Widowmaker groaned and rubbed her head. "Where are we now?"

"You're at Watchpoint: Gibraltar."

"So it's true. Overwatch is operating on the down low."

There was no point in denying it. "Yeah, something like that. Amélie-"

"Please don't call me that," Widowmaker said, obviously uncomfortable with the name.

"Widow. Are you okay?"

Widowmaker knew what Tracer was referring to. "Risky maneuver on your part. You should have left me to die back there."

"Maybe. Maybe not. How do you feel? Does anything hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"You can tell me you're not okay. I'm not Talon, Amélie..."

"I'm not Amélie anymore. Amélie is dead."

Tracer decided not to press Widowmaker anymore. Widow was stressed enough as it was. "I just noticed that you have a minor laceration on your left wrist. Probably from that fucker. I'll get some medicine to help seal it up for you."

Widowmaker looked down at her wrist. Sure enough, a cut covered half the length of her wrist.

Tracer came back with the medicinal ointment and gently applied it on Widowmaker, who winced as the pain settled in.

"You're not looking much better," Widowmaker stated, reaching out for the ointment. She pressed the medicinal fluid on Tracer's cut lips, as if she were shushing the Brit. Tracer couldn't help but notice just how freezing her gentle touch was. Yet, it was soothing, in a weird way. Tracer looked into Widowmaker's eyes, which were focused on Lena's lip. Her eyes were an eerie golden yellow, with a tinge of brown.

"What?" Widow asked, noticing Tracer's stares.

"Erm- nothing. Just thinking."

Widowmaker shrugged and lied down on the bed once more. Tracer missed Widow's careful touch on her lips. She shook the thought away.

"If I leave you here alone, are you going to leave? Run back to Talon?"

Widowmaker sat in silence for a period of time. "If there were no survivors in the explosion, Talon will believe I'm dead. If that is the case, so be it."

The pair sat in silence, exchanging mutual glances of understanding.

Widowmaker adjusted herself in the bed, eventually sitting up entirely. "I'm fine, Tracer, really. I've been treated worse." Widowmaker remembered uncomfortable incidents from her past, but she shook them off. "It's just my fault for not complying-"

"Don't give me that excuse," Lena interrupted, getting upset. "What happened to you was not your fault. Never was. Never will be. Okay?"

Widowmaker was unaware that Tracer was referring to more than just the incident that played out in the facility.

"Okay?" Tracer repeated, much softer this time.

"Okay."

A sudden feeling of drowsiness dawned upon Tracer. "I'm gonna turn in for the night. I'll see you later." Tracer was tempted to stay awake all night, partly because she wasn't sure if she could trust Widow to not strangle her in her sleep. After all, she was still very much dangerous.

Widowmaker wouldn't kill her. Tracer just knew it.

Tracer's waist vibrated as she exited the room. Emily.

"Oh, now you want to talk to me. Only when it's convenient for you, I suppose," Lena said, unable to contain the bitterness in her voice.

Emily ignored her comment. "Lena, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Well, go on, Em. I haven't got all night." Tracer could hear Emily's heavy breathing.

"I want to be open with you, I really do. I just... I can't do this."

You deserve so much better.

"I'll keep this short. We are obviously going down different paths in our lives, and I just don't think I have time for a relationship right now. I hope you understand."

A bitter ball lodged in Tracer's throat. "You're not making any sense, Emily. You don't give up when things become overwhelming. What else is there to it?"

The truth would set you free.

"Listen, Lena, I can't- I cheated on you. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I'm a sorry piece of shit for doing that to you. You've always been honest with me, and I just can't keep hiding my unhappiness from you. You deserve so much better than me."

With that, Emily hung up. Tracer's heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. Things would be fine. She would be fine.


Amélie woke up in a familiar king sized bedroom, a blinding sunlight brightening her face. She knew that she was in her nightmare, and Gérard would come any second now.

Amélie quickly got up from bed and faced the direction Gérard would be coming from. Instead, Cain appeared in the doorway. Amélie backed up, only to hit a dimly lit lamp behind her. She turned around. She was no longer in her bedroom. There was a lone operating table, with a man lying facedown on it. Gérard.

Amélie rushed over to Gérard, who was unconscious. She frantically attempted to free him from his bonds, yet she couldn't.

"Leave him alone!" she screamed. "Prenez-moi, s'il vous plaît!"

Amélie blinked. Gérard was gone. She was lying on the operating table. She was tied to the table, unable to break free of her bonds. A blade tore through Amélie's back, and her bloodcurdling screams echoed in the vast room. She wasn't sure whether to faint or cry out. All she could feel was pure agony. It was so real.

Widowmaker woke up in a frenzy, wildly kicking off the sheets she situated herself in. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep. But, it was a mistake to do so.

Widowmaker looked outside and stared at the sun. Judging by its position, it was approximately eleven in the morning. Hm. She was usually an early riser.

Widowmaker got up from the comfort of the bed and went into the kitchen, where she heard a deafening cacophony. Someone was making food.

"Morning, love. Slept well?" Tracer asked, putting a cooking pan on a stove.

Widow opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She sat on a chair. "Sure."

Tracer cooked in an uncomfortable silence. Widowmaker had never been in a situation quite like this before. And she had been in many situations. Quite frankly, she was amused.

"Do you want a plate?" Tracer asked, looking over her shoulder.

A look of innocent curiosity flashed over Widowmaker's face for a brief second. "No thank you."

"You haven't eaten in at least a day. I'm sure you must be starving."

Widowmaker leaned over the table. "My metabolism allows me to go weeks without food or water. One day surely won't hurt me, non?"

Tracer pouted and opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She sat across from Widowmaker, stuffing a generous amount of pancake in her mouth. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

Widowmaker raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly would you know that?"

"It's pretty easy to tell by your facial expressions when you sleep. "

"You watched me when I slept?" Widowmaker asked. Tracer realized how creepy she sounded. She often caught herself watching Emily sleep at night, studying her peaceful expressions and admiring the way her eyelids fluttered when she was dreaming. It was different with Widowmaker. Lena studied the way she frowned when she slept, the way her forehead wrinkled, the way the subtle horror flashed across her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lena asked.

"Non," Widow said, burying her face in her hands.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything." Lena looked fatigued, her eyes a tinge of red.

"You've been crying," Widowmaker commented, not beating around the bush. "Are you.. okay?" Widowmaker hadn't the slightest idea of how to comfort someone in distress.

"Oh. You noticed. I'm fine, love." She forced a weak smile.

"You're not fine. Dîtes-moi."

"Well..." Tracer glanced over at the photos perched on her windowsill, which she always kept at the watchpoint.

"This red haired girl in your photo. Is she the cause of your pain?" Widow asked.

"My ex girlfriend. We broke up recently due to long distance problems. Widow, I don't expect you to..."

"Understand?"

"No! I don't expect you to listen to me babbling on and on about my shattered love life."

"The people closest to you end up being the people that hurt you the most."

"I just... don't know how I feel. I don't think I can just move on and forget about her, ya know?"

"The best advice I offer is to not forget about her. Remember all the times you've had together, all the ups and downs you had with her. She'll always have a place in your heart, non? Don't waste your time forgetting the events and people that helped shape you." Widow paused briefly. She couldn't help but feel like somewhat of a walking hypocrite.

"I never knew you gave out relationship advice." Tracer gasped. "Oh my god, you and Reaper are a thing! I've seen the looks you've given each other, but I didn't think-"

"Non! Tuez-moi maintenant, ce serait préférable."

"I'm assuming that's a firm no." Tracer placed Widow's rifle bag in her lap. "Salvaged your bag."

Widowmaker widened her eyes. "Tracer!"

Widowmaker sifted through her belongings before taking out a familiar piece of equipment. "My tactical visor is equipped with a tracking device."

"Shit!" Tracer said. "I'll get rid of it. I'll-" Tracer looked at the date. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I'm supposed to meet with Wins- with the scientist that developed my chronal accelerator. Ya know, make sure it's working properly." An idea emerged in Tracer's head. "Just toss the tactical visor in the Mediterranean sea. Nobody will think twice of it, due to the location you supposedly died at."

Widow thought for a minute. "I suppose that'll have to do."

"Good. It's a plan, then." Tracer pushed a plate of toast in front of Widow. "And you're eating breakfast."


"I know of a place where we could get rid of your visor. It's within walking distance."

Tracer ushered Widowmaker out of the watchpoint without anyone noticing. Hardly anyone was there, and the security cameras had stopped surveying the area years ago. Lena and Widowmaker walked on slippery boulders until they came across a cliff overlooking the still waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The moon shone directly over the sea, brightening the view. It was still raining, and they were both beyond soaked. Widow and Tracer sat at the edge of the cliff, letting their feet loosely dangle.

"Wanna do the honors?" Tracer asked, already handing Widowmaker her visor. Widowmaker shuddered as she took the device away from Tracer.

"Are you cold?" Lena asked.

"No. Just thinking." Widowmaker sighed. "Is this supposed to signify the end of my time with Talon?"

"Didn't think about it that way," Tracer admitted, looking around her as if someone would walk in on them any minute.

Widowmaker stared at the jagged rocks underneath her. This was too much for her. How was she supposed to pretend that everything would be okay from here on out? "Wouldn't be such a bad idea to jump."

"Widow, I know how hard this must be for you. To be stripped away from all you've known so abruptly. But, I promise you that things will only get better from now on. I promise you that you have a purpose in this world beyond Talon. I promise you that I'll help you realize it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

With that, Widow threw her visor deep into the torrential sea.

Tracer made sure the coast was clear before smuggling Widowmaker into the room.

"I have to go check up with Winston now. Sure you can take care of yourself?" Tracer asked.

"Mmhmm."

Tracer was surprised to find McCree in the lab with Winston, puffing his cigarette as usual.

"Lena," McCree said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thought I'd run into you here. What happened back in Algeciras?"

"Ran into trouble with some soldiers. Took em out."

McCree blew smoke out of his nose. "That's my girl. Don't scare me like that ever again, okay?"

"I'll try my best, Jess."

"Did Morrison tell you the news?" McCree said, unable to keep a playful smirk off his face.

"What news?"

"The Petras Act was uplifted and we're getting refunded. The UN has finally had enough of the unrest occurring in London and other parts of Europe. After our little stunt in Algeciras, which will remain unknown to the public, protests erupted demanding that world leaders take action. The UN still is skeptical of us. I think only reason the Petras Act was uplifted is because they simply don't want a second Omnic Crisis to spread among us like the plague."

This was the best news Lena had heard all week. "Wow! Do you think the UN knows we've been operating illegally?"

"Too late to know for sure. Morrison's been reappointed strike commander. I've been appointed second in command. I don't think stating that he was alive was such a wise decision."

"Woah, Jesse! I just can't take in such big news in such short time. I know Winston activated the recall weeks ago. Is anyone answering?"

"We've reached out to everyone who has formally worked with Overwatch. Most are willing to come back. Most."

Lena thought about Angela, more commonly known by her callsign Mercy. Mercy had told Lena a while ago that she most likely wouldn't return to Overwatch if it were to reoperate. Lena desperately hoped Mercy would have a change of heart. "Do you know if Angie's returning?"

"She's scheduled to arrive here next week."

"Agent Oxton?" Commander Morrison said, sneaking up from behind the pair. "May I speak to you in private?"

That was a signal for McCree to nod his hat in Lena's general direction and silently slip out of the backroom.

"Please open this letter when you are securely back in London. It's for your next mission."

"Got it, Commander."

If there was one thing Widowmaker had, it was patience. She would wait silently for her prey to make one final mistake, one wrong move on their part. It was like a game of chess.

Widow had been sitting in a chair in the same position for hours. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lena waddled through the doorway. "My chronal accelerator is functioning as expected. Have the whole day to ourselves before I smuggle you into England."

"England?"

"You can stay in my home until we can figure out what your entire, um, situation is. For now, your utmost priority is to keep a low profile."

"And smuggling me into England is keeping a low profile."

Widowmaker stepped into the bathroom and opened one of her bag compartments. Her prescribed pills.

Widowmaker counted her supply. Merde. She had a few weeks worth, at least. There was a stash of medication in her base of operations in Annecy, France. She would have to go retrieve them on the way back to London just to buy some time. Widowmaker had no clue as to whether or not she could live without the medication.

Widowmaker shuddered. It was an unsettling thought- and an uncertain death. Widowmaker didn't want to disclose this information with Tracer just yet. It would only worry her. Perhaps Widowmaker could go a few days without the medication and see what it would do to her body. Was that a stupid idea?

"I'm going on a slight detour," Widow said, causing Tracer to raise an eyebrow. "I have to stop by Annecy, France in order to gather a few belongings of mine."

"Annecy?"

"My base of operations is located there. It's an ancestral home that Talon knows of. If I were to go into hiding, that would be the first place they checked."

"Need me to come along?"

Widow remembered what Reaper had told her. There had been several members of Talon that had occupied the home without her permission. Was that a regular occurrence? If there were people still prodding around her base, she needed to get rid of them. It would be significantly easier to get rid of them if Tracer tagged along. Widow would just have to retrieve the medications without Lena noticing.

"There may be members of Talon at the base that we need to clear out. Just letting you know ahead of time. Also, I don't mind the company."

"Not to sound pessimistic or anything, but how are we supposed to smuggle you into Annecy, let alone London? I didn't really think this through." Traveling between countries was, bluntly put, a hard task.

"I'll have to sneak into France. At my chateau, I have a passport under the alias Danielle Guillard. Then we can travel via airplane to London."

"You're a bloody genius, Widow! You know that?"

"I try my best."

"Winston mentioned that there was a delivery hauler leaving for Barcelona, Spain. Maybe we can hitch a ride."

Tracer guided Widowmaker out of the room and snuck her on the hauler before the driver took note of their presence. Lena and Widow uncomfortably situated themselves between large boxes, which appeared to be carrying various supplies.

Tracer and Widow barely interacted with one another throughout the drive to Barcelona, apart from a few glances. Yet, it was a comfortable and easy silence.

Lena's mind tormented her with memories of Emily. Lena desperately clang onto Widow's advice. Embrace the memories. Don't feel angry that it ended, feel glad that it happened. Lena was beginning to feel at peace with herself.

"You're awful quiet," Lena finally remarked, her boredom reaching a new high.

"I don't have much to say."

"We've been in here for three hours. Eight more to go. How are you doing?"

"Confined in a hauler with a former enemy. Not entirely a bad time."

As Lena began to fall asleep, Widowmaker sat cross legged against the wall, making futile attempts to stay awake. Ever since her first meeting with Tracer, she hardly had a day where she slept peacefully. All her nightmares crept up on her, like a shadow creeping up on you in the darkness. She was not about to make a fool of herself again, especially in front of Tracer in a confined space.

Widowmaker stared at Lena's innocent face, her breaths shallow. Sleep was vulnerability in its finest form. Was it a wise decision on Lena's part to exhibit such a pure form of trust towards Widowmaker? If Widow was in Lena's shoes, she would bolt straight for the door. Yet, here Lena was, sleeping like a baby in front of an infamous assassin. Widow felt somewhat content with the fact that Lena trusted her to some extent.

Lena mumbled underneath her breath, before lazily opening her eyes.

"And I thought I was creepy," Lena said, startling Widowmaker.

"You still are," Widow said. "Can't sleep."

Tracer frowned. "Try to. We will be dropped off at a warehouse I'm familiar with," Tracer said, looking at the time. "I was thinking about staying in the warehouse and traveling in the nighttime in order to avoid confrontation. It's too risky to travel during the evening."

"There will be no need for nighttime travel. Why don't I just hide in plain sight?"

Tracer didn't know where Widow was going with that idea, but it didn't take long for her to figure it out. Tracer suppressed a laugh. "You carry makeup in your rifle bag?"

Widow smirked. "Someone has to look the part around here." Widowmaker always felt completely and utterly ridiculous when she applied the foundation to her skin, masking its unusual blue color. Tracer let Widow borrow a baggy coat that she had packed for the trip in order to conceal most of Widow's skin.

Tracer watched in awe as Widowmaker applied the makeup on her skin with quick and nimble precision. Even with large sunglasses and a pound of clothes on, anyone with eyes could tell that Widowmaker was beautiful.

The women felt the hauler slow down and the brakes engage. They got up from their position on the floor and opened the back latch, sneakily navigating through the warehouse.

Lena knew the area quite well. Now that Widow was "hiding in plain sight", Tracer knew exactly how they would get to Annecy.

"I have an old Air Force friend that can give us a ride to Annecy. Can't take us to England, though. He has special privileges when it comes to international travel, so we won't encounter customs."

"Hm. And you say I'm a genius."

"Is that a subtle compliment from you I hear?!"

"You wish."


"Billy!" Tracer exclaimed, leaping into the man's arms. "How long has it been? A year?"

"More! It's so great to see you, Lena! Oh, where are my manners? Never introduced myself to your friend. I'm Billy." Billy held out his hand for Widowmaker to shake. Widow stared at his hand for a period of time before reluctantly shaking it. Billy didn't seem to notice.

"I'll be glad to help you two get to Annecy. It's for an Overwatch operation, correct?"

"Mmhmm," Tracer said. "It's crucial that you don't discuss this with anyone. Danielle and I are on our first mission. Ya know, Overwatch needs experienced pilots. You should consider working with us."

"I'll look into it, Lena!"

Widow and Lena crammed into the back of the aircraft, each woman staring out the lone window.

"Is it safe to land here?" Billy asked, looking over the address Widowmaker gave him. They were above water.

"Yes," Widow said. "There is a clearing across the water over there."

"Thanks again, Billy! I'll recommend you directly to Commander Morrison should you still want that position in Overwatch!" Tracer enthusiastically stated.

As nighttime approached and the plane left, the chateau stood out against the purple sky. Tracer's jaw dropped. "That's your base of operations?"

The women did a clean sweep of the entire chateau before determining the home was clear. Tracer could tell that the crumbling ancestral home was beyond magnificent in its glory days. Tracer could also tell that Widowmaker had been renovating it. Dusty piles of wood and paint cans cluttered the living space. The next thing Tracer noticed was the coat of arms.

"Guillard? That's the last name you have for your alias."

"It is my maiden name," Widowmaker said, walking downstairs towards her wine cellar.

"You drink?"

"Occasionally."

"That's what they all say."

Widowmaker flashed her rare smile in Lena's direction. "I'm tempted to wipe off this makeup. I look like an idiot."

"You don't look like an idiot. You look... you look... erm," Tracer began.

"Thanks."

"Well, I'm sorry! I don't know how to say you look like a total babe without it rubbing off the wrong way."

Widowmaker stared incredulously at Lena, making Lena wish she would just die on the spot. "A babe?"

"You know what, forget I said anything."

Widowmaker was thoroughly amused. "Oh, you know you won't live this one down," she said, her prominent French accent allowing the words to roll off her tongue like fine wine. Tracer felt relief. Widow took it as a playful comment.

Lena explored the dining room while Widow stuffed various items in her bag. A little black widow weaved its web in the corner of the dining room window.

"Met my little friend?" Widow said, coming up from behind Lena.

"I love spiders," Tracer remarked. "They're beautiful creatures. Hard workers, too. I can't imagine how it must feel to make one of the most intricate natural creations, only for some human to step in it."

Widowmaker held out her palm for the spider. Lena watched in awe as the black widow crawled all over her hands, before Widowmaker put it back on its web.

"It's getting late. When did you say our departure was?" Widow asked, her tone changing.

"Soon. We gotta get going."

Widowmaker was hoping to stay longer at her chateau. It would be ideal to remain there and live happily ever after in the ancestral home. If only things could be simple. It was too risky to stay there, especially now that Reaper disclosed information regarding unsolicited visitors.

The airlines were strict when it came to international travel. Widow just relied on hope when it came to the security check.

"Danielle Guillard?" the man behind the security counter said, pronouncing her last name terribly.

"That would be me," Widow said, placing a bag on top of the conveyor belt.

"State your business for traveling."

"Accompanying my friend here on a business trip."

"Why? She can't take care of herself?" the man snidely remarked.

"Oh, I'm sure she can. It's just more pleasurable for all of us if I take care of some of her... sexual matters," Widowmaker purred, causing the man to shift in his seat uncomfortably. Tracer opened her mouth in surprise.

"Um, okay. Please step in line for the security check."

Widowmaker had a special way of dealing with metal detectors. Her gadgets were equipped with an anti PI system, rendering metal detectors useless.

"You're all set," the man said.

After the encounter, Tracer couldn't hold back the giggles. "What the hell was that back there?"

"A tactic. Make them uncomfortable and they won't press you for anymore information."

"Well, what a fucking tactic."

Luckily for Tracer, she lived within walking distance of the airport. But, more urgently, she was hungry.

"Where are we going?" Widow finally asked, walking behind Tracer down a narrow sidewalk. The amount of people walking on the streets made Widow have slight anxiety.

"Hope you're not vegetarian, love," Tracer answered, casually walking into a hamburger joint.

Widow stood outside the diner for several seconds, contemplating whether or not she should follow Lena in. Lena went back outside and clutched onto Widow's hand, before dragging her into the joint.

Widow sat across from Lena, taking in the American-like atmosphere.

"When was the last time you've been in a restaurant?" Lena asked.

"Not long ago. In Monaco, actually."

"Oh."

"It was actually a bar."

"Wow. How the hell did that go?"

"Let's just say that I've never been more tempted to kill someone in my life."

Lena snorted. A waiter appeared before the couple.

"Hola, señoras. May I get you started with drinks?" he asked, his Spanish accent shining through his speech.

"Actually, I think we're ready to order," Lena said, looking at Widow.

"May I get black coffee, s'il vous plaît?" Widow asked.

"Will that be all for you?"

"Yes."

"You're from France? I always recognize the euphonic language of love," the waiter said, smiling flirtatiously at Widow.

Lena wanted to cover her eyes. This could not end well.

"May I get two chocolate milkshakes and the number 3?" Lena persistently asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

After the waiter left, Tracer desperately wanted to change the subject. "One of the milkshakes is for you."

"I'm not drinking it."

"Come on, when was the last time you had a milkshake?!"

"Never, actually. I think."

"Oh god. I didn't realize how urgent this milkshake mission was! Now you've got to try it!"

"Fine," Widow said, giving into Lena's persistent demands.

Tracer smiled. "So. Have you been conjuring up a plan? I don't suppose you wanna stay in England with me your whole life."

"I don't know where to go. What to do."

"Did I tell you that Overwatch is reoperating?"

"What? Impossible."

"The Petra's Act was uplifted this morning."

"Hm. So the UN finally had the balls to do it. Let's hope things run smoothly for your organization this time."

"We could use some more recruits." Lena widened her eyes. "People with a specific set of skills. People like... like you."

Widow snorted. "Me? An Overwatch agent? How amusing."

As soon as the food and beverages arrived, Lena looked over at Widow, waiting for her to try the sacred drink. Widow slowly placed the straw betwixt her slender fingers and drank the shake.

"Well?" Tracer asked.

"It's okay."

"Just okay?"

"Fine. I'll admit, it's a lot better than I thought it would be."

"Mission accomplished! The girl approves!"

Widowmaker laughed, before taking another sip of the milkshake. "What now?"

"Now we can relax!"

Tracer practically collapsed when she arrived at her home. Widowmaker was tired, yet she refrained from resting. She was scared of sleeping, scared her nightmares would reveal things that would be better off forgotten.

Lena crashed on the couch, snoring soundly in her comfortable position.

The more Widow thought about it, the more she grew to love the person Lena was. She could never thank Tracer enough for her generosity, her never ending kindness, her playful banter. From the very beginning, they were like a dance of fire and ice. Completely different, yet able to move with precision in their deadly dance, able to understand one another's flow of movement. In that sense, Tracer had been a completely different opponent.

"This is the second time you've refused to sleep," Lena murmured, interrupting Widow's train of thought. "You don't want to have another nightmare."

Widow nodded.

"Try to get some rest. This is unhealthy, even for you."

"I just..." Widow started to say, her voice trailing off.

Tracer waited patiently for her to finish her sentence. She never did.

"When I used to have night terrors, my grandmother always put a drop of lavender oil on my pillow. Relieves anxiety. Wanna try that?" Tracer asked.

Widow nodded, before a sudden yawn escaped her mouth. Lena found it terribly adorable. In fact, Tracer found a lot of Widow's little quirks "cute". Her nail biting, her lip biting, her playful little smirks.

Lena placed two drops of lavender oil on Widow's pillow and placed the remaining oil on the bedside table.

"I'm sorry," Widow apologized. "For making you do this at 4 in the morning."

"No need to be sorry, love. I just hope I can help."

"Lena?"

"Hm?"

"I... I really appreciate the things you've done for me," Widow said in all sincerity. "I'm usually not the tender type. But, I just wanted to get that out there."

Lena nodded and beamed a smile. "No problem, love. Rest nicely, okay?"

Prenez-moi, s'il vous plaît. Take me, please.

Dîtes-moi. Tell me.

Non! Tuez-moi maintenant, ce serait préférable. No! I would rather you just kill me now.