"I have somewhere to be, Jesse," Gabriel scolded, "Let me shower for God's sakes."
"Why ain't you telling me where you're headed? Being real secretive here, Reyes."
"I don't have to tell you shit."
"What the hell're you two up to this time?"
He removed his shirt. "Get out of my face."
"And you wonder why Jack don't trust you."
"I don't 'wonder' anything. Now come on, get out of here." McCree eyed him with an unsettling look and marched away without another word, shoving the door open with an unnecessary amount of force.
Prick, he thought, now irked beyond comprehension. He wasn't entitled to know everything that went on in Gabe's personal life. Even if he did know, it wouldn't have changed the way their conversation played out.
He'd just start bitching about Moira.
Yet another reason why he hated the communal showers: too much company. Perhaps if he hadn't taken that unexpected nap in his office, overslept, then had an argument with a certain cowboy, he could have been able to make his way to the barracks and shower in peace, but that wasn't the case. There wasn't enough time to make that journey, and so, he was consequently subjected to McCree's wrath.
He turned the handle and disrobed as the water heated up, noting how oddly cool the room was. The Commander threw his clothes into his bag and wrapped a towel around his hips as he waited.
Nobody needed to see his ass.
Well, except for one person, but she wasn't allowed in the men's room.
What the fuck, he thought as he shook his head. What was going on with him? It was true, this wouldn't be the first time he's...well, felt a certain way towards a teammate, but it's never gone this far. He never made excuses to see them, or admired their body (specifically the sections he most certainly should not be admiring) from behind, or now did...this. Why was Moira, of all people, different? What about the Doctor made interactions with her so crucial to his happiness? She wasn't a particularly kind or pleasant person.
Well, except for those rare moments.
The moments in which she'd let her guard down and laugh and playfully mock him; those times seemed to be unwarranted by her, if the way she stopped herself in the hotel was anything to go by.
God, how he wanted her to know that she didn't have to stop herself, that it was okay to not be so uptight and professional all the time.
And fuck, he wanted to hear that laugh again.
The one she hated so much, Gabriel thought as he entered the shower. It was "disgusting," apparently. It was true, it wasn't so much of a laugh as a string of snorts, and it was true, the only time he's ever heard anything like it was in the videos Jesse had shown him, wherein the person laughing was being mocked (as much as he hated to admit it, he made a few unpleasant comments at the time), but this was Moira, and each imperfection of hers was so fucking perfect that he didn't know what to do with himself.
"Boss?"
And then Genji's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"What is it?" Gabe called over the white noise resonating within the room. When had the door opened? "May I inquire when you will be back? We need to discuss schedules for the next few weeks."
At least he doesn't stick his nose in my fucking business.
"I'll be out for a few hours. Just tell Jesse we'll deal with that in the morning. Seven sharp."
"Only McCree? Would you not like Moira to know as well?"
Shit, that's right, he didn't know.
Well, now Gabriel wasn't too sure about that anymore.
Genji wasn't a stupid kid by any means. There was no way he was climbing out of the hole he dug with that response.
The man turned off the water as to not have to shout every sentence of his.
"Hey, Genji," he said.
"Yes?"
"Want to keep a secret for me?"
"I'm surprisingly quite good at that."
"Great, now listen:" he paused, wording his next statement carefully, "me and Moira are heading out. We want to discuss some things regarding...me, I guess, and we wanted to do it somewhere private. I need to keep this on the down-low because if this shit gets to Jack, he'll think we're plotting against him or something, and my ass will be out of here. You got it?"
"I understand, Commander. Confidentiality is something Angela and I seem to have a difficult time with."
That's right, Genji was sort of in the same boat he was. They could relate to each other in a way, yeah?
"If anyone asks for me, just tell them I'm busy and don't want to be bothered," he continued, and turned a handle so the water ran once more.
"You have my word." With that, he heard the door open, and the almost-completely-drowned-out metallic pat pat of the Cyborg's footsteps ceased with the click of the entrance being sealed once more.
He trusted Genji. Besides, it would be better if at least one person knew of their whereabouts, that way panic wouldn't ensue.
He finished his duties in the shower and pulled himself together as quickly as humanly possible.
We could meet in the hangar, she said, there's a door that leads to an area behind my lab. I'll be waiting for you near the entrance. There isn't a doubt in my mind you won't be able to find this place without my assistance.
She made it sound like we were making plans for the next operation, was what went through his mind as he made his way to the hangar.
How does 19:00 sound, Gabe?
Perfect. That was his response.
Of course it was.
Gabe unlocked the doors to his desired destination, and as they slid open, the familiar musty scent of the ships, tools, slabs of metal and wood, and other miscellaneous Lindholm items filled his nose.
Everything seemed to be in place, save for Moira.
She said the hangar, r-?
"Hello, Gabriel!"
And yet again, the nearly-three-hundred-pound Black Ops Division Commander jumped out of his skin.
Gabriel whipped around to notice the cackling woman (adorned with most adorable glasses) leaning against the wall, arms folded just below her breasts, causing the smallest bit of cleavage that dared him to steal glances.
"All things considered, you're awfully skittish," Moira commented.
"You know, in my defense, I wasn't expecting you to scream in my ear."
"I didn't scream."
"Well, yelled. Whatever."
The woman pushed herself from her spot on the wall and took a few steps towards him. "I'm glad we both decided on a simple black shirt. I feel less underdressed now. And you'll have to excuse the glasses. Until my contacts arrive, I'm stuck with these abominations." He studied her eyes for a few moments, admiring just how well she was able to pull off such perfectly circular lenses. "You look"-adorable, stunning, beautiful, perhaps?-"fine. Don't worry about it." She raised her eyebrows, yet said no more.
"Besides that, follow me."
She led him past various ships and workbenches, out of the designated doorway, and across a field with boxes of varying sizes littered throughout its expanse. Now, Gabe has spent the better half of his life at this facility, and he's never, not once seen this place. However, the only time he actually began frequenting the bottom floor was when Moira showed up.
Speaking of whom, the Doctor pulled a set of keys out of her back pocket and dangled the bundle between her spidery fingers.
"This one's mine." She approached and unlocked a small silver vehicle as they reached the car lot, and all he could think was holy shit. "You have a nice fucking car."
"I'm aware, now get your arse in it before someone catches us."
The inside was completely spotless, he noticed, and smelled of cinnamon.
Of course it smelled nice.
"I haven't had dinner outside of a facility or laboratory in a long while," she said as she turned the ignition. "This will be unusual for me."
"I thought you told me you went here before?" he pondered as he examined the small jar of scented beads she so carefully placed in a cupholder.
"I ordered from here before, is what I meant."
He laughed, partially at her and partially at himself. "Right, why did I think otherwise?"
"You mustn't be the brightest one here, that's my hypothesis."
The drive to the restaurant was a rather quiet one, both parties deciding to simply enjoy the tranquility of the moment. It was rather calming to know that, even if only for the evening, he had escaped the chaos of his life, with Moira, nonetheless.
A whole evening would he be given the privilege to have this amazing woman all to himself. Could it get anymore perfect?
Amidst his delight, an unwanted thought managed to wiggle its way into his attention: he saw this as a privilege, yet no one else could say the same.
An evening, an hour, a moment spent in this woman's company seemed to be a curse to anyone but him. She was despised and singled out, but why? What made her past far worse than Genji's or Jesse's? If anything, it wasn't particularly that bad, all things considered. Her personality could be very off-putting, he wasn't and couldn't deny that, but he got along with her perfectly well. He enjoyed her dry sense of humor, and if one dug deep enough, they could find a kind bone in her body, much like he has.
Yet, no one bothered to take the time to meet this highly-introverted individual, and so, it left her feeling as if her efforts went unnoticed.
Perhaps that was the reason Gabriel got along with her so well: she appreciated that she was appreciated.
She told him herself that she acknowledges his friendliness. Perhaps her snarky comments and jokes were her trying to reciprocate? Then why had she stopped herself that night? Just the other day she told him "not to listen to her" when she spoke of her feelings. Did she truly want to distance herself from the world like that?
Or is she just unsure of how to act around people who intend to befriend her?
God, then that begs the question: when was the last time she's had someone meaningful in her life?
"I have a feeling you will enjoy the food here," Moira's low voice spoke.
"Yeah?" He looked over at her, and it was the moment he realized they were sitting in a parking lot.
The woman opened her door and muttered to him, "Come on." He sighed and mimicked her actions, following her into a black building and taking the time to read the large letters that made up its name in an attempt to distract himself from the somber thoughts that plagued his mind.
He just worried for her, that's all. He worried for her health and happiness.
And there wasn't anything wrong with that.
The interior was rather fancy, he noticed, and the smells wafting from the food that surrounded them made him hungrier than ever.
"Two," he overheard Moira tell the man behind the pedestal.
Just two. Just the two of them.
They were led to a small table pushed against a wall, and once seated, taken care of, and the conversation of this is how you pronounce this, Gabe had ended, he decided to bring up what has been bothering him for a good ten minutes.
He wasn't quite sure what the response would be, but God damnit, it was nagging him.
"So, I've got something to ask you," Gabe began," but...don't feel like you have to answer."
"Yes?" She twirled the straw in her glass and caused the ice to dance in a perfect circle.
"When we were talking the other day, you were saying something, then told me to uh, 'just ignore you when you get like that.'"
She was frowning now.
"Why-what made you say that?"
The doctor eyed the water in her glass. "I wouldn't have said anything meaningful, had I continued."
"You know, I wouldn't of minded."
Moira seemed to contemplate something before subtly shaking her head. "My boss certainly doesn't need to hear my nonsense."
"Can't we just forget I'm your boss for five minutes?"
Oh, that sounded weird.
The woman in front of him apparently felt the same, if the perplexed look she gave him was anything to go by, which it was.
"I don't understand; what do you mean?" was her question.
"I'm saying...God, uh..." He paused until he found the right words, and even then, he spoke slowly as he voiced, "I don't have to just be your boss. It doesn't have to strictly be business and graphs and strategies, it can be... W-we can talk like...you know, friends."
His ears were on fire, his face was on fire, fuck, his skull was on fire, and he prayed that she understood him, because he wasn't sure he could bring himself to say that again without vomiting.
Bless her soul, Moira's expression remained thoughtful and free of judgement. She sipped her water before asking, "You consider me as a friend, Gabriel?" His stomach fluttered at the sound of his name on her tongue, and all he could seem to do was chuckle rather nervously. "Am I not supposed to?"
"You can, but"-She took another swig of water-"I must say, you have a horrible taste in friends."
"Now, I don't think that's true."
"I'm not talking about myself."
He shrugged, knowing all-too-well who she spoke of. "He really isn't all that bad. Some days are more tolerable than others, though."
"So I've noticed."
Gabriel breathed a laugh. "Well, he isn't here to bitch at either of us, but, um, back to what I was saying."
"I understand, I suppose." She paused.
"Perhaps I knew and yet-" The Irishwoman went silent, preferring to stare at the table rather than him. After a few moments of doing just that, she opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it, waited a few seconds, repeated the process, began an unfinished sentence with, "I-," then seemed to simply give up and shook her head violently for a longer-than-normal period of time, all the while only sparing him short, quick glances here and there.
"That's not...That's not very easy for me to explain," Moira said simply, quietly.
"What isn't?" When she didn't respond, Gabe decided to say, "Let's just drop it. I didn't come here to make you uncomfortable."
"I apologize," she told him.
"What the hell are you apologizing for?"
"I wasn't able to respond."
"Don't be sorry for that."
"It isn't normal."
"Moira, calm down. It's fine."
She rubbed her thumb alongside a strip of metal plating on her decrepit right hand, eventually causing the area to become an unorthodox maroon color.
He's never seen her like this, so bothered and unsure. This wasn't the woman Overwatch and Blackwatch alike have come to know.
Yet it was.
This was simply a different side of her, one he wasn't able to understand.
"Hey, sorry for making you uncomfortable."
"It wasn't your intention."
After a minute of awkward silence, Moira (ironically) was the one to speak up first.
"Have you been feeling well lately?"
"Yeah, completely fine, as a matter of fact."
"I stopped your appointments because you haven't had any complaints."
"No, I've been doing great, thanks to you."
She smiled again; finally. "It's what I do best."
"Did you ever think of doing something else?"
"Oh, ever since I was small, I've been obsessed with biology and genetics."
"You were the kid who knew where babies came from?"
Redhead laughed as she nodded her agreement. "You'd better believe that was me. This reminds me, as well: when I was nineteen, a company was going to have me model for commercials and magazines."
"Get out." God, she looked like a model.
"It was exciting to say the very least."
"You ever do it?"
She shook her head. "When I met the woman in charge, she told me they would make alterations to my appearance, primarily because I 'looked too much like a man.' I said it was ridiculous, and I was never called back."
Gabriel remembered when she had talked to him a while back about "not looking like a woman." Was this what she had in mind as she said that?
"You don't think you look like a guy, right?"
"If that's the truth, so be it. I always have something more important to worry about than others' opinions."
"Well, for the record, you don't."
You're beautiful, as a matter of fact.
"I'm flattered," she smirked, then questioned, "Have you always wanted to be a soldier, Gabe?"
"Well, my shitty grades told me I wanted to be a soldier."
Before their conversation could continue, a plate was placed in front of him and-Wow, did that look and smell amazing.
The rest of their time was filled with lighthearted talk of certain events in their past. It was enjoyable, Gabe had to say, to see Moira smile when she spoke and listen to his nonsense, and it was a step in the right direction. She wasn't holding herself back or cutting herself off; they were talking as friends, and that made him the happiest damn guy in all of fucking Switzerland.
The ride back was nothing like the drive to the restaurant; he was more content than before, and despite neither of them speaking, his mind didn't wander towards negative thoughts so much as it did replay the events of the last two hours.
Everything went so fucking well. So fucking well.
They snuck (like two teenagers) back through the hangar and made their way to the laboratory.
Upon arrival, Moira paused in front of the doors and took her glasses from her face, proceeding to wipe the lenses with the hem of her shirt.
"I can't stand these," she said. "They're horribly uncomfortable."
"Wouldn't know," he replied, crossing his arms. "You're not heading up to the barracks?"
"I stay here for the night more often than naught." She placed her glasses over her eyes. "Besides, most of my wardrobe is down here."
"I think it was a good thing I dragged you out," he laughed.
"It was pleasant, I must say. I hadn't minded it at all."
She glanced at the time on the padlock on the wall. "You should go upstairs and show yourself. The Cowboy may begin to think I took your life."
"Wouldn't doubt it." He paused. "Alright, uh..."
A thought crossed his mind. A very tempting thought.
Screw it.
Giving into himself and his heart racing a mile a minute, Gabriel placed his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her tiny form in a hug.
Her back was so bony, and her shoulder was so bony, and she was so thin and so, so stiff.
But he loved the contact.
With a few small pats on her shoulder blade, he released her and looked up to her dual-colored eyes, which sported a look that he considered to be a mix of bewilderment and confusion.
"I'll see you," Gabe told her, "good night."
"Good night, Gabe," Moira responded quietly, and with that, he began his journey to his bedroom.
Why was she so stiff? Did she hate it? She hadn't pushed him away...
But she hadn't hugged him back, either.