Pharah didn't go out very often, but, when she did, she did it in style. Like tonight, she spent hours perfecting her outfit, including her makeup and jewelry. She wore a golden, silk top that stopped just above her bellybutton. On her lower half, she sported a similarly silk skirt, with a belt of colorful beads resting on her hip. As she walked, you could see her tall gladiator sandals as her skirt swished to and fro.
Pharah finished applying her eyeliner, then slipped on her earrings. When she was satisfied with her look, she grabbed her purse and set out of her room. Her room was on the third floor, the topmost floor, so she usually just jumped out of her window and float down with her suit. In her dress, however, she preferred the stairs.
As it was late, she tried to be discreet. Although she tried to keep it quiet, it was useless. The person in the living room would notice her no matter what. She was sipping tea and reading by the faint lamplight, as she often did.
"Good evening, Fareeha," said Ana, not looking up from her book. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I could ask you the same," said Pharah evasively. "I would have thought you would have turned in by now."
"Pah. I'll sleep when I'm dead." She closed her book. "Do not dodge my questions, little one."
"I'm not your 'little one' anymore, mother," said Pharah. Ana raised her eyebrow, piercing Pharah's tough armor with her one good eye. "If you truly must know, I was invited to Lucio's album party. I don't normally go to parties, but he made me promise him I'd have more fun." Ana clicked her tongue, setting her book down.
"Who else will be attending this little party?" asked Ana. Not quite believing that this was happening, Pharah crossed her arms over her chest.
"Mother, it's a club. Lucio has five and a half million followers on Twitter. Who's to say how many people are going to show up? I know for sure that Hana is there, and I think Lena said she would go. Why?"
"Will there be alcohol?"
"Erm… Yes? Of course," said Pharah. "But I don't drink very much at all. You know that. At most, a glass of wine."
"And boys?" asked Ana.
"Mother! I'm not some sixteen year-old schoolgirl!" Pharah took a step for the door, stopping in her tracks to avoid being hit by Ana's quickly-aimed sniper shot.
"Do not walk away from your mother when she is speaking to you," said Ana, setting down her rifle. "It is rude."
"Fine. If you want to talk, we'll talk." Pharah turned to face her mother. "Hello, Ana, I'm going to a party, and I will see you in the morning. Any questions?"
Ana glared at her daughter for a moment before blind-firing her rifle, hitting Pharah directly in the ankle.
"Do not disrespect me, child," said Ana, wagging her finger disapprovingly. She hardly heard herself over Pharah's stream of profanity. "Watch your mouth or you will get another shot."
"I don't think you understand how truly painful those are," said Pharah through gritted teeth, ripping out the syringe from her leg. "That was uncalled for."
"Go back to bed, little one. We have work tomorrow," said Ana. She picked up her book and returned to reading.
"What? No we don't. Your age must be getting to you. Our mission isn't until Tuesday."
"Every day is a mission for an agent of Overwatch. If you cannot be responsible and prepared for any conceivable scenario, then you do not deserve to be a part of this organization."
That really got under Pharah's skin. Who the hell was Ana to tell her about responsibility when she left both Overwatch and her daughter high and dry for decades? Besides, Pharah worked just as hard as any member of the team to get her spot. She had cleared this excursion with 76 earlier in the week, so she should have been fine to have her first night off in about a year. Yet, as usual since she returned, Ana stood in her way.
"I'm going, and you can't stop me!" shouted Pharah.
"I can and I will," said Ana calmly. "Back to bed, child. We have training in the morning."
"I am no child! You will learn this one way or another." Ana sighed, then stood up.
"I don't think you understand, Fareeha." Ana picked up her rifle and slung it over her shoulder. "I am your mother. As long as you live under my roof, you will obey me. You will not attend this party. I forbid it."
"This is not your house! Captain Morrison built it from the ground up!" Few people could get anger Pharah as quickly or intensely as her mother could. Even though Pharah knew that Ana was trying her best after her absence, and that she truly did care for her, it didn't stop her from resenting Ana's attempts to protect her.
"What's all this then?"
Pharah and Ana turned to the right to see that their argument had attracted a spectator. Mercy stood in the doorway, clutching her robe in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
"Oh. Hello, Angela," said Pharah. "We didn't mean to disturb you."
"You say 'we', yet only you raised your voice," remarked Ana. Pharah furrowed her brow, but decided to say nothing to her mother just yet.
"Angela, would you please talk some sense into this woman?" grumbled Pharah. "She's trying to stop me from going to a party with my friends! I'm a grown woman, am I not? I should be able to make my own decisions."
"Don't try to use Angela to get what you want. She knows that one should respect their parents at all times."
"Why must you two always fight?" asked Mercy with a sigh. "I've tried everything with you two, but you're both far too stubborn. So, if you want to fight anyway, you may as well use it to solve your problem." She yawned into her palm, then turned back to her bedroom. "Fareeha, suit up. I will be back in a few moments."
Pharah swiftly ran upstairs, leaving Ana alone in the living room. She sat down to finish her tea and make a bit more progress on her book. A short moment later, she was joined by Mercy, equipped with her Caduceus Staff, and Pharah, who was decked out in her armor and rocket launcher.
"So, the rules are simple," explained Mercy. "You two will fight until one of you is no longer able to do so. If Fareeha wins, she will be allowed to go to the party without any further resistance. If Ana wins—"
"You may only attend the party, and any subsequent parties, with a chaperone," said Ana suddenly. "That chaperone being me."
"What?!" Pharah's jaw hit the floor. "I'm a grown woman, I don't need a chaperone!"
"Then beat me, little one."
"Gladly and easily," said Pharah, preparing her Jump Jet. "I am sick of how you treat me. You'll regret not taking me serious when I blow you all the way back to Giza!"
"They can do the least who boast the loudest," said Ana, drawing her rifle. "Put your money where your mouth is, little one."
"Actually, now that I think about it," said Mercy. "This was probably a bad idea."
"Start the match, Angela!" said Pharah.
"Er… Well. Start?"
Pharah thrusted into the air, immediately avoiding the first of Ana's shots. She pelted rockets at the ground, just barely missing both Ana and Mercy with explosives.
"I probably should've had you do this outside," noted Mercy, blessed with the gift of hindsight. She used Guardian Angel to zip up to Pharah and slowly descend to safety. On her way down, she checked Pharah's vitals: She hadn't taken a hit yet, but her blood pressure was through the roof.
"How much longer should I allow you to play, little one?" asked Ana, mockingly. She aimed as carefully as she could given the chaos of the ground around her and managed to stick a shot in Pharah's leg. Somehow, Pharah still felt it through her armor.
"Ana…" Mercy warned. "Don't anger her too much. I already shudder at the thought of what Jack will do when he sees his living room."
"Don't blame me." Ana jumped to the left, narrowly avoiding a rocket. "It's this one. She's undisciplined! Sloppy! Unfit to be a part of Overwatch!"
"How dare you—"
"No, Fareeha, how dare you! You talk of justice, but don't know the first thing about it!" shouted Ana, barely holding back a smirk. "You know not what justice really represents! You know not what justice means! You don't even know where justice comes from!"
Phara growled, then prepared her weapons.
"Oh, I'll tell you where justice comes from!" she snarled. She activated her Barrage. "Justice rains from above!"
Ana grinned, then immediately rolled out of the way of the oncoming salvo of rockets. Pharah had taken the bait, and fallen right into her mother's trap. Unable to move while blasting the ground with missiles, she was an easy target for Ana's Sleep Dart.
"Nāmá," said Ana, watching as her daughter tried, and failed, to fight sleep. When her rockets ran out, Pharah could fight it no longer, and fell into Mercy's arms. "Oh, little one. You look like you could use a nap."
"Yo, Pharah. You okay?"
"Ugh… Lucio?" Pharah sat up, clutching her head in pain. "Where am I?"
"The club. Yo, you okay? I didn't even see you come in." Slowly, Pharah opened her eyes, and the interior of the club bled into view. Mainly, she saw Lucio's concerned face and heard the loud music of the club.
"No, I'm fine." Pharah shook her head firmly. "Er… How did I get here?"
"Damn, girl. When I said to have a little bit more fun, I didn't mean to get wasted before you even get to the club," laughed Lucio. "Still, it's efficient."
"Wait… I'm remembering it, a little… Oh, damn it all." Pharah buried her face in her palm. "Ana knocked me out and brought me here."
"Which is the reason I came looking for you. You gotta get your mom," said Lucio. "She drank, like, a lot, and now she won't stop hitting on the bouncers."
"This is exactly why I wanted to go alone," sighed Pharah. She got up and began her search for Ana. "Mom! Keep it in your pants!"