Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you for the support you gave on the last chapter. This is my first fic, so naturally, I was nervous. Seeing as though a decent amount of you like it, I'm definitely going to be writing more for it.
I'm not planning on having any set schedule, but I am going to try and get a new chapter out every so often, so keep a look out for any updates!
Also, thank you very much to Kumoma and The Queen Baby for reviewing the first chapter! It helps me a lot, so please try and leave a review saying anything, good or bad, about the story.
-MorphZz
Widow sat on the couch, waiting for Tracer to return with the food she had insisted on making. She could hear her humming in the kitchen, a faint smell of sausage coming from the door to her right. She couldn't remember the last time she had a home cooked meal, much less sausage. The relatively small meals she had to eat at Talon weren't much, so she was grateful to have something different for once.
"Oi luv, I hope you don't mind good ol' Bangers and Mash!" she heard Tracer yell from the kitchen. "I haven't had it in ages, and I'm sure you'll love it." Widow wasn't sure what "Bangers and Mash" was, but it smelled magnifique. She could smell a few different spices being used, as well as the mouthwatering scent of mashed potatoes and butter.
"You really don't have to make this Tracer. You're already flown me here, so there's no need to make me dinner," Widow responded. She felt like she didn't deserve this hospitality. So many people, innocent or not, had died by her hand. She just didn't feel worthy to even be in this woman's presence, much less have her help with her personal problems. She was quite surprised when she actually said yes.
Tracer walked into the room, carrying two plates. "Oh come now, luv! I'm trying to make ya feel a bit more comfortable," she said, gesturing to Widow. "You've been tense since ya got here. Just relax, luv." She handed Widow her plate, and set hers down on the coffee table. She went to go sit down, but suddenly stopped herself. "Oh, right. I guess a fork might be somewhat necessary," she said, her cheeks turning a shade of red. "Be right back." She walked around the couch, and back into the kitchen. She looked… different, to say the least. She wasn't wearing her usual orange spandex and union jacket that she was so well known for. She was instead wearing a white Overwatch shirt, and loose fitting jeans. Widow felt that this outfit suited her better, and that it almost made her look… cute. 'Wait, why in the hell am I thinking like this?' Widow thought to herself. But now that she had actually thought about it, Tracer really was an attractive woman. She felt a small warmth rise to her cheeks, and looked away from the kitchen door, hoping that she wouldn't be seen like this.
When they had arrived at Tracer's apartment, she was surprised to find it quite organized. The blankets were folded neatly, and stacked together in a basket in the corner. The living room consisted of a couch, a TV, with a small stand under it, and a low sitting table in between the couch and TV. She also had multiple posters hung up around the room, some of which depicting multiple members of Overwatch, looking forward in determination. Widow wasn't really surprised by this. Tracer seemed quite prideful when it came to her being a former member of the disbanded league of heroes.
"Sorry 'bout that. I could only find one good fork, all the rest are dirty," Tracer said, walking back into the living room. She handed Widow the utensil, and pulled out a white plastic fork. "Bah, this'll work," she said, finally sitting down, and resting her plate in her lap.
"Chérie, you don't have to use that. I'll gladly allow you to use your own fork." Widow was about say more, but was suddenly cut off.
"Widow, it's alright, it really is. I use those forks all the time, so I don't mind using something a bit different. Like I said, I'm just tryin' to make you feel a bit more comfortable," Tracer said, a re-assuring smile making it's way to her face.
Widow nodded, and began to eat. Her first bite tasted like heaven, the spices of the sausage meeting the butter perfectly. She couldn't remember when she had last eaten something that was this good.
Widow sat there, fork resting in her mouth, staring blankly at her plate. Tracer, who had already eaten almost half of her meal, glanced over at Widow. "Uh, luv? Are you alright?" she asked, a small amount of worry finding it's way into the tone of her question.
Hearing this, Widow snapped out of her dazed trance, and looked up at the woman beside her. "Oh! Um, yes I'm alright. Merci Tracer, c'est délicieux," she quickly said, not realizing the language she had used.
Tracer smiled warmly, and continued eating. "I'm just gonna guess that ya like it," she managed to say in between bites. Widow, at first confused by what Tracer had said, suddenly realized what she had done. Once again, she looked away, her cheeks becoming unusually warm.
After composing her self, Widow looked back at Tracer, taking another bite. "Where did you learn how to cook this?" she asked, suddenly curious. 'Anything to get my mind off of her appearance.' she thought, willing the heat in her cheeks to stay down.
Tracer looked at Widow, a sad smile on her lips. "My mum used to make it all the time, back before... you know, everything. The Omnics and all that," she responded. "I always watched her make it, though I had never made it myself until a few years back. It sounded good, and I faintly remembered how she made it, so I just whipped it up."
Widow nodded, setting her empty plate on the table in front of her, and adjusting herself in a more comfortable position. "It was very good. I cannot remember the last time I have had anything like it."
"Thanks luv. I can't say I've ever had anyone praise my cooking skills," she said, chuckling. "I haven't had anyone over in ages. It's nice, to be honest."
Before Widow could even process what she was about to say, the words had already left her lips. "If I had the choice, I would visit all the time," she said sadly
"Well luv, I was hoping that you'd be able to do just that. If I'm gonna help ya get your mind straight, we're gonna have to be somewhere where no-one will bother us, preferably here, considering that it's private," Tracer quickly said, hoping to lighten the mood. The look on Widow's face was almost making Tracer sad herself.
"So, you're saying I'm able to come back?" Widow asked, reluctance creeping it's way into her voice. She almost couldn't believe her ears. This whole time, she had thought this was going to be a one time deal, and after this, they would go back to their old ways.
"Well of course luv! We're not gonna be able to get your memories back in one night!" she exclaimed, breaking out into a wide grin. "I really am looking forward to helpin' ya Widow. I've got a feelin' that we could be good friends once this is all said and done. That is, if you want...?" she finished, the question hanging in the air.
"Yes, I think I would like that." Widow said, smiling at Tracer. "Thank you, for everything."
"Bah! Don't mention it! It's not like I've got much to do anyway. Winston hasn't got anything for me, so I've just been travellin'. Looking for you, really." Tracer said, slightly blushing. "But never mind that! Now then, where to begin?"
A bit of a shorter chapter, I know, but I'm most likely not going to have that long of chapters anyway. Probably in the 1,200 to 1,800 range for the most part.
Thanks for reading!
-MorphZz
