This was Reyes' game and Angela wasn't entirely certain if she was going to win. Was there a winner to be had? Between the two of them, the Blackwatch agent was far more competitive than her. If there were any end-conditions to this game, he surely would use everything in his arsenal to achieve victory. Then again, by the way he described the game, she'd gander it was a mutually beneficial game. That was rather surprising.

"So, just so we're clear; we take turns asking questions and the other person must either answer truthfully or take a drink?" Mercy had question curiously, looking attentive and eager to begin. They had both positioned themselves on the couch, Mercy sitting cross legged on one side while Reaper reclined back against the cushions with his legs stretched out.

"That simple."

"This should work in my favor then since I do not have anything to hide."

"First off, that's bullshit and you know it. Second off, you're also a lightweight so one drink on you is the equivalent of three on me. Thirdly, it's not about winning. We're two people, sitting around, drinking and conversing back and forth."

"You were the one to call it a game."

"It doesn't mean there's a specific winner. Sometimes getting plastered is being a winner enough. If only you'd pull yourself from your petri dishes and spent more time socializing on your weekends, then you'd have some experience with this." The man retorted with a scoff as he filled the two cups up with finger of liquor. "Here, grab your glass and I'll start us off with something easy: Why did you lie to the United Nations about what you did to me?"

"How did you know I omitted that from my reports?"

"Hey, it's my turn for questions, not yours." He quickly whipped back at her, furrowing his brows at her. From this distance, Mercy could clearly see the scars that marked his skin, particularly noting the vertical stretch of puckered skin that split his left eyebrow slightly. The scar curved when he had glared, a detail she was jotting down in her mind for some reason. Noting her lingering stare, Reaper cleared his throat. "Take a penalty shot, Ange."

"What?!"

"If I ask a question on your turn, you can call me out on it as well. C'mon, hurry up and get it over with so you can answer my question." He insisted, motioning his head to the glass in her hand. With a moment to grumble some unpleasant German under her breath, Mercy craned her head back and swallowed the liquor as quickly as possible. If her contorted expression was anything to go off of, she hadn't been quick enough.

"Disgusting."

"Your answer?"

"I wanted rest. I had to bury my two best friends without any support of those around me. I was isolated for the longest time after the Swiss Headquarters fell. I went about and continued to save those in need of my attention, but in the beginning I was in shambles and there was no one around to hold me up when my world crashed down. At first, I thought it was that everyone had blamed me for the events, but then I found out it was because the United Nations was keeping me under surveillance in case I had been withholding information on you two. On paper, it said the bodies were never recovered, but they knew I was at the scene and held a bias. There was no way they wouldn't keep tabs on me for a while afterward."

"See? It wasn't that hard. Your turn."

"…did you ever miss Overwatch? Even after all this time?"

"Hell no…I started a rebellion on my way out the door, Ange. I didn't exactly leave on good terms and it was my own decision that made it that way. You know that story though. Shit became too corrupt and Overwatch fell into oblivion before I had even done anything. I was simply a catalyst for the end, but its fate was spelled out before then."

"You know I would have protested with you for change in the divisions."

"Yeah, well, you would have protested on Jack's side too, Miss Switzerland, so it cancelled itself out." The mood suddenly dipped as he said those words. It reminded both of them of the conflict that brought about such death and destruction. In an attempt to clear the air of the heavy dread, Reaper cleared his throat while pouring Mercy's cup with tequila. "Did you ever meet anyone the years following the fall?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"You only get one warning, Ange. Do you really want to drink that badly?"

"…fine, I'll answer your immature question. I tried to date a year or so after the incident at the Swiss Headquarters. I spent a great deal of time with one man in particular but we fell out of touch. I was still grieving and he politely agreed to end things."

"I bet he wasn't a man enough to follow up with you to make sure you were doing fine. Scumbag didn't deserve someone like you."

"Are you jealous, Gabriel?"

"Are you fuckin' joking?"

"Drink." Mercy replied simply, now leaning back into the back cushions with a smug look on her face.

"…that's not fair."

"Drink."

"Fine, I'll take my fuckin' shot but that means I'm not answering the question."

"Oh, yes you are. If I did, so can you. That or you can take another shot." Mercy replied as she hung her legs off the edge of the couch, one leg swinging over the other. A dark grumble escaped his lips as Reaper considered his decision. It didn't take long for the man to swallow down the liquid in his glass and follow it up with a swig straight from the bottle. The blonde doctor quirked a brow at this while he refilled his glass.

"There, two shots. My question now: You don't need to tell me about the others or any precious information you think I might be hounding after, because right now I don't give a damn about any of that. What I want to know is what you plan on doing now that you know who I am?" There had been a long, drawn out pause after the question was posed. The dark irises of Reaper's eyes narrowed on those illustrious ocean blues of Mercy's, wondering what her answer would be.

"I…don't know. Not in the sense that I'm rejecting your answer, rather, I truly don't know…this all was so sudden. Where there are the injured and fallen, I will not be far behind in my Valkyrie suit. I will protect all those I love and those who cannot protect themselves. I've lost too much to war and violence to sit idly by and watch lives be claimed. If you are on the side that incurs death, then we'll have to clash again at some point. I only pray you are not."

Once again the mood shifted greatly, leaving the air thick with tension and unresolved conflict. It was obvious where Mercy stood on all of this, but what of Reaper? Even if the good doctor figured out a way to counteract the side effect, would the man consider ending the violence once and for all? It wasn't a question she could ask right now. Aside from the fact that it wasn't her turn, she knew he wouldn't have an answer for her. Or maybe it was that she feared what the answer might be. Noticing her tensed shoulders, Reaper sighed and knocked his elbow into hers.

"How about you pick a question that's not so heavy—"

"Do you regret killing Jack?"

"Fuck, Ange, what did I just fuckin' say—"

"I need you to respond to this before we continue…I asked, so you must either answer or drink. You decide. Then I promise it'll be smooth sailing from here." Mercy implored the man; the gaze that had been placed on him had grown desperate but still firm. It was important for her. If he regretted it, then perhaps he wasn't as hollow inside as she feared. Part of her wanted to hold onto those childhood romantic ideals where good always reined victorious over evil, and that no personal demons were too great to overcome. They studied each other for the longest time, neither budging in place. Then, Reaper curled his clawed hand around the bottle and threw his head back, taking in a larger amount of tequila than normal. He pulled the tip of the bottle away from his lips with a sigh.

"Looks like you're better at this game than I thought."

"Mm…I suppose." Mercy hummed out, a bit distracted as she wondered what drove him to drink instead of respond to the question.

"Do you regret bringing me back now that you know everything?"

"Not at all, I would do it all over again if given the chance. You may have gone on to produce terror across the world, but I cannot regret trying to save my dearest friend."

"I'm your dearest friend, huh?" Reaper remarked with a smirk, crossing his arms as he eyed her curiously.

"Yes, one of them, though I suppose you outrank the others since the only other two that held the same status are either dead or they abandoned me. Now drink for that question out of turn."

"This is bullshit." Reaper remarked bitterly, giving the angelic woman a sneer before downing another shot. At this point he was starting to feel a bit warm from all the liquor. Angela hated to admit to herself she was too, but there was no need to state it. They both knew she was too much of a lightweight. Perhaps that was another reason why she didn't go out drinking with them often. A memory of such a time popped into her mind, prompting her next question.

"If you recall, there were times I'd journey out of my lab for drinks. It was always so fun, but I will admit that I could never stay sober for long."

"You're a petite lady; you weren't made to handle large amounts of liquor, Ange."

"I know, but I'm leading up to my question. Whenever I had too much, you'd always take up the task of walking me back to my room on the base without hesitance. We always meshed well, you and I, so did it ever occur to you to try something whenever you chaperoned me to my room?"

"Fuck no, what kind of shameless pervert do you take me for? I would never do anything to you that wasn't consensual, and any decision you would have made while that far gone wouldn't have been reliable. So no, I would never dream of taking advantage of you."

"That's…I suppose it wasn't the answer I was expecting. It's quite chivalrous sounding coming from you, Gabriel." And truly, it wasn't. There was a list of things Mercy was anticipating over that answer. There had always been an unspoken connection between them, one that did not go unnoticed by the others. From McCree's teases to Ana's pestering, it seemed like everyone knew something they didn't. There had been an understanding that they were close, but neither was willing to put the first foot forward. It wasn't out of desire, rather, Overwatch always found a way to keep them apart.

Blackwatch was a specific division that Reyes held sovereign rule over while Angela had been the face of all the medical care and advancements Overwatch produced. Both were busy tasks to keep up with. There were moments that they shared which signified the greater meaning to their relationship, but nothing ever blossomed from the hopeful fruits of their affection. In fact, it was part of why Angela had grieved for so long; not only did she lose her circle of friends, but she also lost the only chance to express herself to Reyes. With how things have ended up now, she wasn't entirely sure it was a wise idea to bring it up anymore.

"Did you ever want me to?"

"Pardon?"

"I said," Reaper breathed out slowly, scooting ever closer to Mercy with his eyes fixated on hers. For the first time in a long time, Angela felt overwhelmed with a heat that had nothing to do with the tequila. As he leaned closer, she could see some warmth in his complexion, indicating that maybe he was struggling as well. "I would never take advantage of you, Ange, but I want to know if you ever wanted me to."

"That's…a bit private."

"So answer the question or take your shot of tequila."

As if on cue, Mercy gripped her glass and brought it to her lips. Reaper watched intently as every last drop was poured into her throat, watching as her muscles twitched while she swallowed it down. She was stubborn enough to play by his rules despite how she struggled with the liquor. That pleased Reaper for some reason. No, there was a reason; he just wasn't ready to admit it to himself yet. That's when Mercy stared directly at him, a mysterious flicker of light passing through her eyes that left Reaper to swallow at a hard knot that formed without him knowing. It was then that he realized just how close he had crept toward the woman. Their knees were brushing while their faces were far enough to notice every detail of the other's expression. There couldn't be facetious with each other now.

"Why did you lie to me about the tequila?"

"The tequila?"

"You said it would taste like nectar," She replied simply, shifting a bit so the side of her shoulder rested against his, leaning on him comfortably. "I don't think it does. The taste on my tongue is far bitterer than nectar."

This is when Reaper—no, Reyes—was given a choice. Everything about this situation was disastrous. He wanted to avoid tangling Angela into this web. It would tarnish her name if anyone found out and it would place a large target on her back for those that wished to do harm to him. Then again, he had been the one to suggest the game, and it would be a lie to say that he didn't hope for something like this; a moment that was so raw and unadulterated. In essence, this moment was their own, liberated of titles and duties just as it should be. Just as it was meant to be. Just like the good old days. And now she was gazing up at him from the closer proximity, the luminous sparkle of her blue eyes leaving him breathless. God, she was beautiful, she always had been. It pained him with how tangible the emotions were, how he could taste her lips on his without touching. They had lost each other once before which left their emotions unrequited. Was it better that way? He visibly clenched his jaw and tightened his hands, clearly straining himself from touching her while he debated.

"Angela." He whispered her name in a husky tone, nearly matching her hazy-eyed expression.

"Gabriel."

"You don't want to do this."

"I'm in my right mind, Gabe. Don't treat me like a child."

"I didn't lie to you about the tequila. There, I answered your question."

That wasn't enough of an answer for the blonde doctor. In one fluid motion, she had swung her body around in a way Reyes never thought he'd witness. He was frozen in place as Angela now sat in his laps, the pink dusting to her cheeks accenting that puckering pout on her lips. He had been doing so well in keeping himself restrained leading up to now, but his hands began acting of their own accord as they rested on her hips, almost feeling like he were getting high from the touch.

"Prove it," She whispered out to him, her eyes tracing the form of his lips as she spoke. Timidly, her hands found his face, one cradling his jaw while the fingertips of the other brushed against the lower lip that taunted her so. He swallowed hard again, something that she noticed. She forced her eyes upward, catching the heated expression he wore. "I want you to show me just how sweet it can be…surely you can still taste the lingering richness of the tequila on your lips…so show me."

The room began to spin all at once, leaving Mercy to gasp out loud as she was ejected from Reaper's lap with quite a bit of force. He left her lying sprawled against the length of the couch, his own body hovering just above hers. Their noses were brushing while their puffs of breath mingled with each other in such an intoxicating way. There was a purr of delight from the blonde woman who shivered beneath that broader, darker framed man. That alone was enough to seal their fate, prompting a collision of their lips that had been long overdue.