Widowmaker sits on a green hillside, legs tucked up beneath her. The wind blows through the clearing causing the grass to roll like waves. Further ahead the grass gives way to sand, which gives way to a body of water. A lake. Cold, muddy water ripples under the noonday sun. Around Widowmaker, birds call to each other and mosquitoes whine. In the distance, a car alarm sounds.
"We'll be touching down in five!" Tracer's voice announces out of place among the sounds and muffled by distance.
Widowmaker ignores her and returns her focus to the water. She watches it pulse against the shore. Like a magician pulling a handkerchief away sand, twigs, bottle caps, and shells are hidden and then revealed by the waves. Magic tricks are for children-
"Hello?" Tracer interrupts again.
-and not worth her attention. Widowmaker suppresses a sigh and concentrates on scene in front of her. She listens to the rustle of the leaves and the cry of the cicadas-
"Earth to Widowmaker. Can you hear me? Hulloooooo?"
Widowmaker snaps back to reality. Her hand shoots up stopping Tracer's index finger centimeters away from poking her head.
"Yes. I heard you. I have been hearing you for the entire trip." Widowmaker releases Tracer's hand.
"Good! Then you know we're almost there!" Tracer brings her hand up to her mouth imitates speaking into a microphone. "All passengers are to return their seats to the upright position, turn off all electronics for no reason, and continue to ignore all screaming babies. We will be landing shortly. Again, we'd like to thank you for flying Air Tracer and remind you that all barrel-rolls were completely necessary."
Widowmaker has a feeling this is going to be a very long mission. Tracer adjusts her grip on the yolk and guides the VTOL down towards Italy.
"Catching a few Zs before the big mission?" Tracer chirps.
"No."
Widowmaker is not tired. She can operate at peak efficiency after four hours of sleep, one of the many perks of her augmentations. And as for this being a "big" mission, that is quite ridiculous. Her talents are wasted here. She and Tracer are nothing more than glorified errand girls. Surely Overwatch has underlings that could attend to this 'mission' but she can't voice her irritation. Not when she has such a tenuous relationship with Overwatch.
"Well if you weren't catching forty winks what were you doing?"
"I was meditating-"
"Ooo! Visiting your happy place? Genji does that all the time before missions now. Says it keeps him centered. Where is it?"
The assassin glances at Tracer out of the corner of her eye. She didn't expect her to be so... perceptive.
"The shooting range," Widowmaker lies.
Tracer's grin shrinks back to what is humanly possible. She lets out an oh and returns her attention to flying the aircraft. Widowmaker basks in, what is sure to be, the short-lived silence.
"Ciampino Tower has cleared Orange 255 for approach," the plane's AI says flatly.
"Pilot copies. Prepare for descent and landing," Tracer responds flipping some switches.
The nose of the VTOL tips downwards towards Rome. Widowmaker can begin to pick out road lights and building below the backdrop of the night sky.
"Look, Ma, no hands!" Tracer says throwing her hands in the air.
Widowmaker lets out a small sigh.
Suddenly the plane jerks and trembles. Widowmaker's teeth clatter in her mouth. Her fingers dig into the armrest.
"Put your hands in the air!" Tracer calls out. "It's more fun with your hands in the air!"
Tracer lets out a shriek as the plane drops, steadies itself, and then continues shaking. Widowmaker braces as her heads snaps back and forth. At least this foolishness will be over soon. Tracer would never do anything to strain the plane; the girl had called it drop-dead gorgeous back at the base, after all. Such sentimentality. Slowly, the plane stops shuddering and continues its descent towards the private airport.
"Woo! That was a good one!" Tracer says with a wild grin. Her eyes flicker to Widowmaker's death grip on the armrests. "Did the big bad turbulence scare nasty old Widowmaker?"
"I do not feel fear," she scoffs.
She didn't. She was concerned about how she would return to Gibraltar without a plane and how Overwatch would be less than welcoming if she returned without Tracer but she was not afraid. Just aggravated by the numerous complications falling out of the sky would cause.
"Piloting a multimillion euro aircraft with your knees. Your flight instructor must be so proud," Widowmaker says pointedly.
Tracer laces her fingers behind her head, leans back, and sets her feet up on the VTOL's dashboard; much to Widowmaker's chagrin.
"Actually, I'm not piloting us at all luv. Autopilot's got us covered for the full approach and descent. Landing too, if I wanted, but that's the fun part. Good old Charley here can practically fly himself. Landing, take off, adjust course for weather, the full nine yards. Been that way from the early 2000s. The only reason pilots aren't out of a job yet is that us meat sacks aren't affected by EMPs. And after the Crisis no one wants an AI flying the plane, not without supervision. Never mind they've been doing it for years..."
Adieu, Monsieur Silence. Our time together was so short. Promise me you will write.
Translations
Adieu, Monsiuer Silence - Farewell Mister Silence
/The lake doesn't have any real significance. It's just a nice memory from a place Amélie visited in her childhood. There is a significance in that its Widowmaker's happy place./
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Second chapter will be up soon because they're both short.
If you see any errors (grammar, spelling, translation, or other wise) please let me know so I can fix it.
Hope you have nice day!
Edited 2 /23/18, Betaed by Dot
Thank you to my Betas
2JRC, u/8056548
Peaseant, u/5650411/
PixelsShattered, u/6471571/
Dot
Cyberplum
