A/N: A few notes: Gerald is Amelie's brother, not husband, and fic happens before anything bad happens to her. She's also a member of Overwatch already, not just a dancer.
This was an old fic (start) that I found and polished up for your pleasure. It will likely remain a oneshot, so I apologize for that, but I hope you can get some chuckles out of the little bit that is there = )
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Clipboard in hand, Angela scurried through the halls to the medical wing in Overwatch's vast complex. She arrived six minutes late and opened the door to find Amelie casually reclined in her chair, feet kicked up on the counter.
Amelie swiveled when she heard the door open, facing Angela with a sly smile.
"And 'ere I thought you had forgotten me," she said, scanning Angela almost lecherously. The right corner of her lips lifted. "Been spending time with a companion, hm?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Amelie. I'd never neglect an appointment for base, primal instincts."
"Nay, I know," Amelie said with a sigh, uncrossing long legs to stand from the chair. "You 'ave no fun nor flair, and you love your sexual repression."
"Restraint is not repression," Angela corrected, crossing the room to her vacated chair.
"It vis when you never indulge," Amelie answered, lifting a long, silken leg to stomp her heel onto Angela's chair.
Placing her clipboard under Amelie's thigh, Angela picked up the limb and moved it, and then sat in her chair.
"There are more important things to preoccupy yourself with than sex, Amelie."
Not deterred, Amelie promptly sat across Angela's lap, long legs splaying out over the arm of the chair.
"Do not judge vhat you haven't tried, darling," Amelie countered, reaching up to cup Angela's chin. She stroked Angela's cheek with long, sensuous fingers. "You may be surprised, hmm?"
"I've tried it before," Angela answered, reaching over Amelie her lap to grab a stethoscope off the counter.
Amelie sighed, fingers dropping from the good doctor's cheek in exasperation.
"Men von't count."
"I don't see why not," Angela said, and before Amelie could protest, she held up a finger to silence her friend and teammate, and then calmly put on the stethoscope and unzipped Amelie's top down to her breasts.
Amelie placed her hand over Angela's and dragged it down a little further, revealing more, and gave Angela a suggestive eyebrow.
"Anything?" she asked.
Angela sighed.
"Amelie-"
Amelie moved Angela's hand over a pale, exposed breast to cup it.
"Now?" she asked.
Angela gave her patient a look.
"Are you done?"
Amelie sighed and released Angela's hand.
"You make me cry, mon cher."
"I'm sure you'll get over it," Angela said, moving the stethoscope over Amelie's heart to listen. She held up a finger to silence her patient and jotted down some notes on the clipboard with the other hand idly. After a few moments, she removed the stethoscope and reported. "Good news. You're healthy."
"Of course I am, ange. I indulge my instincts twenty times a week."
"Some would call that obsession," Angela pointed out. "Or an addiction."
"Embrasse-moi."
"I'm not going to kiss you, Amelie. Now, up. I have other patients- "
As she said it, the door to the room opened once more, revealing a lean and muscled Egyptian beauty.
Amelie sat up in Angela's lap, attention caught by the vision of her, and in the chair beneath her, Angela straightened.
The woman in question glanced up and halted, seeming unsure.
"Sorry," she apologized, starting to step back. "I'll come back- "
"No, no, come in!" Angela said, standing, and consequently spilled Amelie onto the floor.
"Merde!" Amelie hissed, automatically glaring up at Angela until she saw the good doctor's face.
"Oh!" Angela said, only noticing after the curse. She stooped to help Amelie back up while the seducer glanced between the two of them. "Sorry," Angela murmured apologetically, and then added, "You shouldn't sit on my lap."
"First time you've dropped me," Amelie speculated, eying the Egyptian as she entered the room.
Angela ignored the speculation and greeted her patient.
"Captain, it's good to see you."
"It's just Fareeha," the good captain corrected, moving to the patient's table, where she sat. "We're not in battle, and I don't hold that rank anymore."
"You 'ave a tres sexy ami you forget to mention, cherie?" Amelie asked, happily eyeballing Fareeha.
Angela gave her friend a little push.
"Amelie, behave. This is Fareeha, the woman I worked with in Helix on the Desert Sands mission," she explained, crossing the room to Fareeha.
"Ana's daughter?" Amelie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. Fareeha, this is Amelie. She's Gerard's sister, just stopping in for a checkup."
Fareeha nodded to Amelie respectfully.
"It's the first time I'm seeing you out of suit," Angela speculated, eyes dropping down the muscled and corded body before her, only lightly covered in a plain t-shirt and jeans.
The short sleeves bared her arms, revealing intricate tattoos down the right. A vibrant stem started a couple of inches above her wrist and wove upwards over the arm, sprouting artistic, but controlled leaves from the branch, which ended just above the elbow, encasing the entire forearm. From there, the stem of a flower jutted off, rising up towards the shoulder where the pencil-straight, but fluid design disappeared under her sleeve. On the left side, a small, double infinity mark had been etched into her wrist. The forearm remained bare but for faint scars that disappeared under the dipping designs on her shoulder, these more jutting and tribal than the right.
Angela reached out of instinct and touched Fareeha's right arm, feeling faint scars beneath the ink.
Fareeha blinked at the contact, but didn't move or say anything.
"These are beautiful," Angela said softly, awed by the dark ink on scarred flesh. She traced the stem of the flower gently, breathing in a slow, deep breath, and then met Fareeha's dark eyes above that gorgeous tattoo. "You smell amazing," she told the woman, having been surprised by Fareeha's extremely pleasant scent the first time they had met.
"You notice?" Amelie asked from somewhere behind her, sounding shocked.
The sound of her voice shook Angela from the spell, and she pulled away, dropping her hand and shaking her head.
"Excuse me," she apologized. "I didn't mean to intrude into your space."
"It's okay," Fareeha forgave with a casual shrug.
"Ma deesse, are you attracted to her, ange?"
Angela shot her a dirty look, as if she'd just said something filthy.
"You are!" Amelie said, realizing it. She moved over, between them, holding up a hand in front of Fareeha as she looked Angela in the eye. "Excusez-moi, louloutte, vis is monumental. Mon cherie is broken, you see. You might 'ave just fixed her," she explained, reaching up to touch Angela's cheek and forehead.
"Amelie," Angela admonished, swatting her friend's hand away.
"You even feel warm!" Amelie cried, elated.
Angela grabbed her arm and hip and turned Amelie to face the door.
"I think it's time you go see your brother," she said, giving her friend a little push.
"You vant to be with her alone," Amelie said, smiling winningly.
"Go," Angela said, shooing her friend.
"It was mon plaisir to meet you, Fareeha!" Amelie said on her way out, glancing back over her shoulder to wink. "See you soon."
Angela shut the door behind Amelie and turned to her new patient, finding Fareeha had casually scooted back against the wall and watched.
"I'm sorry about that," Angela apologized. "Amelie's a very… Very forward and outspoken."
"It's alright," Fareeha forgave, pushing herself up off the wall. "I'm unfamiliar with your customs. Should I… sit on your lap for this?"
An instant sharp and hot warmth spread up Angela's neck and into her cheeks.
"That… won't be necessary," she mumbled, and when she finally managed to raise her eyes to the Egyptian, it was to see the slightest upturn of the corner of Fareeha's mouth. "Oh! You jest," she realized, her face growing even hotter.
"I don't," Fareeha admitted, her dark eyes sparkling as her lips twitched into a small, beautiful smile, "but there's a first time for everything, I guess."
XXX
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