Normally Angela would have been reading a scientific article while she waited for the tardier members of Overwatch to arrive at the meeting. But instead, she found her eyes gravitating towards a certain dark-skinned woman sitting across the table from her.

Although Fareeha was dressed conservatively, Angela couldn't help but remember what was no doubt, the rare sight of the soldier in a dress. Angela tried to hide her face behind her stack of paper, but she sneaked peeks at what she could see above the table. Occasionally, she made eye-contact with Fareeha, and they both snapped their gazes elsewhere. But just because she couldn't see Fareeha didn't mean Angela wasn't overly-aware of her presence. Even though there were other people sitting closer to her, Angela could only smell Fareeha's distinct scent. It was a mix between shampoo, Raptora fuel, and something else that Angela couldn't quite put her finger on, but was oddly comforting.

Angela had expected the meeting to be about the usual, boring logistics, but her attention was torn from the pleasant wafts of Fareeha's fragrance when the image of a building exploding was projected over the table.

"Rice Incorporated is no more", said Winston gravely. "This week, their main manufacturing plant was bombed in a terrorist attack. Members of the executive board have been assassinated and a message was left saying that any replacements will receive the same fate. Nobody has taken credit for the attack, but rumour has it that an organization called Talon is behind it."

Angela held her breath. Widowmaker was part of Talon.

"Why Rice Inc.?" asked Fareeha.

"I don't know", said Winston. "I don't know what Talon wants, but Lena and I recently stopped them from stealing a Doomfist gauntlet. There's no doubt that they have something against Overwatch, so we have to be careful. I know we're here to end the Second Omnic Crisis, but it looks like we're going to have a lot of enemies on the side."

"Rice had a monopoly on nanobot development and manufacturing", said Angela. "If there's a full-on war between humans and omnics, humans won't be able to recover from injuries as fast as they're normally able to."

"Does this affect us?" asked Jesse.

"Yes", said Angela, her mouth setting into a grim line. "Rice is where we ordered our nanobots from. The few other nanobot companies are too small to fill the global orders Rice were in charge of. It's likely that we're going to be put on a waitlist for months, maybe even years for our next supply of nanobots. If Overwatch still had weight to its name, we could bump ourselves up, but…"

"Overwatch is still illegal", finished Winston. "Not to mention that the price of nanobots is probably going to skyrocket."

Angela nodded. "We still have a lot of nanobots in stock, but from now on, we can only use them for emergencies in the field. For everything else, we have to use old-fashioned methods of treatment."

"I'm sorry, Angela", said Winston. "I know you wanted to do your research, but we don't have the means to hire any other doctors."

"That's fine", said Angela, resisting the urge to sigh. "I'm still well-practiced and it was too easy relying on nanobots for everything anyway."

"I can offer spiritual healing", said Zenyatta, an omnic that had joined their ranks after their mission in Nepal. His first name was Tekhartha, but he preferred to be addressed by his last name.

"Oi, what's with all the glum faces?" said Lena. "We have so much to be excited for! Think of it as a challenge! And you know what else is great? Fareeha is in charge of cooking tonight."

There was a general murmur of approval and Angela smiled at the way Fareeha grinned sheepishly.

"Thank goodness", exclaimed Hana. "I had nightmares after what Torb made yesterday."

"I didn't make it", said Torbjörn. "It's something I ordered from Sweden with my own hard-earned money. It was a treat."

"Did you, now? I was pretty sure it was whale boogers that you pulled out of the sewers", said Hana.

"For the last time, it's called surströmming, and it was delicious. We just didn't have the right type of bread. The next time…" said Torbjörn.

"There isn't going to be a next time!" yelled just about everybody in the room.


It wasn't long before it started.

Angela had moved her office from the laboratory to the infirmary. It used to be that if people injured themselves during training, Angela would give them a quick dose of nanobots that she kept in her desk drawer. Now she had to stay in the infirmary in case she had to wrap up an injury or tape up a sprain. She had spent a good part of her time in the past isolated in labs, but recently she had gotten accustomed to the company of Winston and MeiLing. She had become lonely after the first day of being in the infirmary, but the feeling didn't last long.

Angela's first patient was Fareeha. Apparently she had gotten into a bare-knuckled brawl with Reinhardt. Although there wasn't a single scratch on Fareeha (Angela assumed she was too fast for the old lion to land a solid blow), Fareeha had torn up the skin on her knuckles.

"Can you help me out?" said Fareeha. "I'm pretty good at bandaging things, but it's hard for me to do when it's my own hands."

Angela cut the appropriate amount of white fabric, and started wrapping it around Fareeha's hands. "You know we have fighting gloves just to prevent this from happening, right? And is Reinhardt alright?"

"Oh yes, punching him is like punching a brick wall. I guess the fight ended in a draw, but I did leave him with a few good bruises."

"Just wear gloves in the future, ok?"

"Will do, Doctor Ziegler."

"Oh, and I've been meaning to ask, what was the name of the main dish you made the other day?"

"It's called "ful medames", and it's a staple dish in Egypt that's very easy to make. It also seemed like a good choice because we don't get much fresh food."

"Well, it was delicious. I could eat it every day."

Fareeha blushed.

"Thank you, but I'm sure my mother would have done a better job."

"Oh, don't say that. Ana was a great cook, but you're not too shabby yourself. I might even like your style more. It was seasoned exactly to my tastes."

Fareeha blushed even harder, cleared her throat, and mumbled something about needing to get back to the gym.

The second time Fareeha came in for treatment, she needed to get checked because she suspected she might have gotten a concussion (she hadn't). The fifth time, her ankle had a light sprain. The tenth time, she had dislocated a shoulder in a sparring match. The twentieth time, she had "accidentally" cut herself while chopping onions. She visited Angela every other day, and not once did she have the same injury. The day after every visit, she would bring Angela snacks, always handmade, and often sweet, as a thank you for the help the day before. That way, she interrupted Angela's work each and every day.

Angela finally lost her patience on the twenty-first visit.

"Well, I suppose I'll be patching you up as usual", said Angela as Fareeha walked through the door.

Fareeha was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and Angela gasped when she saw all the small cuts on her arms.

"What happened?"

"I was climbing this very tall tree, you see, and I lost my grip on my way up. Luckily, I fell through a shorter tree with a lot of thin branches that broke my fall."

Angela washed her hands thoroughly, and pulled a bottle off a shelf.

"Fareeha, do you know what this is?"

"Looks like rubbing alcohol. My mother used to use it whenever I got hurt."

"That's right."

Angela dabbed a sterilized piece of cloth with the liquid, and pressed it to Fareeha's forearm. However, when Fareeha hissed, Angela firmly held the cloth down, until Fareeha squirmed.

"Did you know that you shouldn't actually use rubbing alcohol on open wounds? It kills bacteria, but it also kills your immune system's first responders. It slows down the recovery process. People have been using it for so long that it's become tradition."

Fareeha stared at Angela.

Angela put more rubbing alcohol on the cloth and pressed it against Fareeha's shoulder this time. Fareeha held her complaint.

"I know you never fall. Now, tell me…" Angela doused the cloth in rubbing alcohol and ran it down Fareeha's entire left arm. She watched Fareeha's jaw clench. "Why are you wasting my time and our resources by injuring yourself? I swear, if you actually threw yourself off a tree for this…"

"A-A-Aleks gave me the idea. She told me that Mei thought you might want company, so I… I'm sorry." Fareeha hung her head.

"You don't have to hurt yourself just to see me! Mein Gott, you're so stupid…" exclaimed Angela. Fareeha didn't flinch when Angela washed her cuts in rubbing alcohol, but she flinched in anticipation of Angela's incoming scolding. Angela saw this and sighed. "Don't do it again", she said sternly, but immediately softened her tone. "Bring a book or something, nobody's using the couch anyway. And the next time you come, bring those deep fried dough balls again. I liked it with chocolate syrup."

Fareeha put on that sheepish smile that Angela was starting to find endearing. She found herself staring at those full lips, and had to tear her eyes away.

"They're called "Luqmat al-Qadi". It translates literally to "The Judge's Bites", said Fareeha.

"I'll make sure to remember that."