Surprise
She didn't want to go downstairs, but she didn't have much of a choice. She'd had her pity party with Gabriel last night and she had responsibilities that required her attention today – even if she didn't want to be around other people. Still, she knew that once she got focused, she'd be fine – it was just getting to that point.
So, she went down to the infirmary to make her rounds – though there wasn't much for her to do. Gloria had it handled like always, so she merely poked her head in on the patients – one mild sprain and one broken collarbone from a training accident – before moving along to the research labs. There hadn't been any breakthroughs, but they were steadily working towards the goals she had placed for them.
She ended up in her office, reading the various reports that had come in before turning to her own research into biotic limbs. She knew it was possible to make a person out of the limbs – that was how the omnics came about – but, aside from limbs, transplanting had never been successful. It took some time, but she managed to abandon herself within the research. It was getting very close to where she would need to start using the lab – theories would only take her so far – but she was loathe to begin any kind of testing without as many fail-safes as possible.
She'd heard the door open and shut behind her, but she didn't turn around. Angela had no idea what time it was, but she was willing to bet the person behind her was here to drag her away. She was in the middle of a thought, and if she didn't jot it all down she'd probably never remember it all.
"Just a minute." Angela called over her shoulder, scribbling furiously. Whomever it was waited patiently by the door – which told her it was probably Ana. Jack would have taken a seat or walked over to look at her notes – not that he could read them, seeing how they were in German – and Gabriel would have just started talking anyway, because he figured that it would get her moving faster. Angela finished the notes a few minutes later and turned around. As expected, Ana was leaning against the door, the very picture of patience. Angela supposed that, as a sniper, she would need to be. She quickly glanced up at the clock.
"Hello, Ana." She told the woman, seeing it was near lunchtime. Angela grabbed her medical coat and rose dutifully.
"Angela, dear, how are you feeling?" Ana asked her as she rounded her desk, looking her face over – it seemed everyone was worried about her. She didn't – quite – blame them, seeing how she was recently shot.
"I'm just fine, Ana. Fully healed with barely a scar." The doctor assured her; it was a mild, white lie considering she had three small lines where the stiches had been, but she didn't need to know that. "A bit behind on my research, but that's nothing that can't be fixed." It didn't help that she'd had trouble focusing for the first hour, but she'd manage. She always did. Ana shook her head and remained against the door.
"I know you're physically fine, Angela." Her dark eyes seemed to see right through Angela. "But you were shot, and I know that's traumatic. I've seen it affect even the strongest soldier – and you, darling, are not a soldier." The words were gentle even as they were direct. Angela sighed and leaned back against her desk. Apparently she was to be held hostage in her own office.
"You may have forgotten, Ana, but I deal with catastrophic trauma relatively often – including traveling for hours to handle it." Angela forced her tone to be light.
It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to or confide in Ana – on the contrary, she thought that the woman would be a great source of comfort and wisdom. She just didn't trust that her thoughts and feelings wouldn't get back to Jack – because she knew that, while she was well-meaning, Ana would give Jack whatever information she thought he needed to make decisions concerning Overwatch, and her. Ana had Jack's back above all else – as was only appropriate. Angela was lucky that Gabriel hadn't spilled all her secrets – though maybe they were just really good at hiding their knowledge.
"I somehow doubt that surgery compares to being shot in the field." Ana replied dryly, one eyebrow raised.
"Well, there is substantially less pain involved for me in surgery, yes." Angela agreed. The doctor forced her hands to remain at her sides on the desk instead of allowing them to reach up to touch the places that the bullets had pierced her chest. "I swear, Ana, that I am just fine. I'm dealing with it."
"You know, you don't have to 'deal with it' – as you put it – alone." Ana told her kindly, and Angela bit her tongue before she said something she wasn't ready to discuss.
"I talked to Gabriel." Angela admitted after a long silence, unable to think of a pat excuse or explanation to get out of this. She sped past it, forcing herself to keep looking up at Ana instead of away, as if she had something to hide. "You know, since he was there and all."
"Ah, I see." Ana said, fixing Angela with a knowing look – and the blonde couldn't help but think that she did see.
"So, I'm fine." The blonde repeated, squirming slightly under Ana's gaze. "Though, I really do appreciate your concern." She smiled, trying to ignore the heat that had crept to her cheeks. The older woman nodded slowly after searching Angela's face – for what, the woman wasn't sure, but she was desperately hoping Ana wasn't finding anything Angela still wanted hidden.
It wasn't like she was ashamed of anything – more like she didn't want to deal with the teasing and looks.
"You can always come to me, if you want to talk." Ana told her sincerely. Angela smiled beatifically at the woman.
"I know that. You're too good to me." The older woman scoffed and moved away from the door so they could leave.
"Nonsense."
As usual, she was working late into the night when Gabriel barged into her office. Unfortunately, she'd barely gotten anything done – after Ana left her in the canteen she'd been stopped by McCree. He hadn't been kicked out – Gabriel was right on that count. The cowboy had wanted to see for himself that she 'hadn't kicked th' bucket' as he so kindly put it. Once she finally got back to her office she'd struggled to get refocused and then Jack had dragged her to dinner. It seemed everyone was going to bother her today, as if they couldn't believe she was still breathing if they didn't see her every six-to-eight hours. She had planned to be in the lab tomorrow, but at this rate her experimentation would have to be pushed to the day after.
"Angela, go to bed." He said, coming to loom over her with arms crossed. Once, the action would have unnerved her, but now she just glanced up – one eyebrow quirked – before looking back to the paper before her.
"I'm nearly done, Gabriel." She told him breezily; once she'd gotten past her rut a few hours ago, she found it easy to throw herself back into her work. She just wished she'd been given another hour or two before he came to remind her of reality.
"You're always 'nearly done', Angela. It's late and you need to sleep." He told her firmly. The medical professional in her knew he was right – sleep was important to keep a person healthy, just like food was – but it didn't stop her from suppressing the needs. It didn't help that she had dreams – nightmares – to avoid. Still, she glanced past him briefly to look at the clock.
"It's not even one thirty yet." She said, as if that excused anything. He made an incredulous sound, clearly disagreeing with her sentiment.
"Do you even hear yourself? It's after midnight; you should be asleep." She paused, hand poised over the paper, before forcing herself to continue working. At least she could get these last thoughts down before they disappeared.
"You know why I work late." Angela told him tiredly, before finishing the notes and setting the pencil aside, knowing that – one way or the other – she was done with this for the evening.
"Working yourself to exhaustion isn't the answer, Angela." She closed her eyes at his tone, before looking up with a sigh. Were they really going to do this now?
"Isn't it? You've seen what I've done in just a years' worth of time." She kept her tone calm, reasonable; she wasn't the one looking for a fight, after all. "Besides, we both know that's not why you're angry with me." She gestured wordlessly to the chair at his side; he might as well be comfortable if he was going to yell at her.
"I don't want you in the field." His words were almost an order – a Commander to his subordinate – as he dropped unceremoniously into the seat.
"I seem to remember getting the clearance to do just that." Angela responded easily. He couldn't force her into staying out of the field – not without Jack, at the least, backing him. She had no doubt that he could manage it – but it would take some convincing on his part unless, of course, he broke his promises to her. Fortunately, she'd never known him to break his word. "I go, and will continue to go, wherever I am needed, whenever I am needed. Sometimes it's an operating room in another country – other times it will be onto a field of bullets."
"Are you that eager to get shot again?" He demanded, and despite herself she winced. She clutched the arms of the chair tightly to keep her hands from raising to touch her chest where the bullets had punched through. She saw his eyes flicker down to her chest, a look so clinical she knew that he could only see the red that had so recently stained it, before rising to her face again.
"You know I'm not." The words were quiet and a little shaky, belying nerves and fear of a repeat of Venezuela. She really, truly did not want to get shot again. She cleared her throat. "But I am willing to risk it, just as you are." The conviction – her duty – made the words stronger, more confident. If it meant she could save someone that might otherwise die, she would willingly rush into combat – even if she had to take a bullet or two to do it, horrible though that may be. She had to make some modifications to the Valkyrie suit – after she fixed it, of course, she needed to remember to do that – so that she could sustain a few bullets and still do her work, but she wouldn't tell him that. That'd just make him angrier.
"You don't need to risk it – there are plenty of medics." He insisted, voice raising. "Let them do their jobs."
"It's my job, too." He scoffed, a harsh, scornful sound, but she pressed on. "When you hired me, you told me I could see patients in whatever capacity I chose – or were those empty words?" Angela challenged, releasing her death grip on the chair to cross her arms.
"We both know that I never, we never, meant for you to see combat – not even then." He growled at her. "I seem to remember you agreeing to that, once." She knew he was right, just as she was right, and she met his angry gaze with a steely look for a long moment, before glancing away to concede the point.
"That doesn't change the fact that it's still my job now." Angela insisted after a brief pause. "I've got the Valkyrie suit – which we both know is a huge asset – and it's tailored to me." Changing the suit at this point would be nearly as expensive as the research had been – and while Overwatch had funds, no one could afford to just throw away money like that.
"I'm sure we can find another medic your size to pilot it." Gabriel informed her, and it was her turn to scoff.
"Of all the medics that we have, maybe two could fit in it – again it's tailored to me, specifically – and neither of them are cleared for combat." Most of the medics who would be able to fit into the suit never saw the combat it was built for, either due to their skills or disposition in the field. The ones that did see combat were generally men – and by definition would not fit a suit tailored to her.
"Of course you would say that. It's not like you're unbiased." He accused, and her eyes flashed with real anger for the first time in this conversation.
"I apologize. I must have forgotten that you are so knowledgeable about the limitations of my staff." Her words were hard and brittle. "How could I forget that I was hired on to agree with everything my Commander tells me?" She leaned forward to point at him, fierce and truly angry now. "Do not presume that I would ever misappropriate my staff – that I want to go into the field simply out of pride. I would never jeopardize lives just so that I could have glory."
"Angela, I didn't mean–" he started, hands raised in surrender – or apology – but she cut him off, not ready to hear it.
"Didn't mean what, exactly? That I am too vain to stand aside when necessary? That I don't tirelessly pour through reports and journals to make sure my staff – my entire division – is equipped with the best Overwatch can afford, the best I can create? That I don't work every day to make sure you and Jack and Ana and all of our agents come home alive? That I am incompetent or unprofessional when it comes to field work?" The words were dangerous, her entire form tense as she glared across the desk at him. He stared at her, at a loss for words, unprepared for her anger to eclipse his own.
"I'm sorry." He offered finally, and it mollified her a little. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No," she said tightly, "you should not have." They sat in a tense silence, her glare unrelenting as he tried to figure out what to say to bring her temper down. She herself knew she was inordinately angry, that he didn't really mean it, and leaned back to run a hand over her face.
"Is it so terrible that I want you safe, Angela?" He asked her eventually, words quiet as he glanced to the side, and she felt a pang of guilt cut through the remnants of her anger – but tried to shove it aside. "You'd think getting shot would have convinced you to stay out of harm's way."
"I'll just have to be quicker next time, won't I?" She countered with a shaky smile. There had been no way to outrun those bullets – no way 'quicker' would have saved her in the factory – but she could be flippant about it. It was how she had to be about that trauma, here in the light, the waking world.
"There shouldn't be a next time!" He snapped back, and she frowned, all humor – false though it may be – gone.
"Do you think I enjoy watching you go, knowing there's a high probability you'll be coming back on a gurney because you took a bullet for someone else again? That I want to put you back together every time you leave?" She demanded. Two could play this game. "That I'm not terrified – terrified – that this time is the time I fail, that you won't come back off that table?" Real emotion filled her words, proving she wasn't as aloof as she tried to appear – not that he didn't already know that. Angela fixed him with a look.
"I have never asked you to remain behind – never asked anything of you, of any of you, save that you come home alive, that you bring our agents home." She leaned back into her chair. "I would ask that you show me the same respect." It was clear he didn't know what to say to that; there was nothing he could say that wasn't hypocritical at best.
"You don't have to go with me." The words hurt her chest, phantom pulsing pains in those three little lines that had changed everything and yet changed nothing, even as she said them, but she managed to get them past her lips. "I know," she licked her lips, "I know you don't want to see me hurt. Ana or Jack can–"
"No." He shut down her words quickly. "If you're going into the field, I'm going with you." There was a brief pause, before he sighed in resignation. "I won't – can't – stop you, since you seem hellbent on going, but I can make sure you get home safely." She smiled, biting her tongue on a retort; it wouldn't do to instigate him when he'd conceded defeat.
"Good." She said instead, getting to her feet. "I suppose I should turn in, then." She'd have to finish her writing tomorrow – and fix the Valkyrie suit while she was at it. The lab could wait for another day. Angela moved to the door, Gabriel following at her heels.
"I understand that you don't like this." Angela told him as they waited for the elevator. "But I'm working to make it safer every day." Well, not every day – she was also working on her biotic limb research – but she was working on it.
"I know you are." Then the doors slid open and he stepped inside, selecting the button for the eighth floor. After a moments' hesitation, Angela followed suit. She considered going to her normal spot against the right wall, but, well – they were something, weren't they? Instead, she entered and stood next to him, her left arm against his right.
She felt his eyes on her, but she didn't glance up or back as the elevator doors slid shut. Angela resisted the urge to fidget, to move away, and was rewarded by his arm moving to slide around her shoulders. She smiled, even if he couldn't see it, and leaned against his side.
"Are you still angry?" Angela asked, just before they reached the eighth floor. She wasn't – despite the tirade there in the middle, she was actually rather pleased – but she knew that he'd lost their on-going battle, at least for now, and she wasn't sure how he would take it.
"No." He said after a long moment of consideration. "Worried is a better word for it, but I'll deal with it." Gabriel propelled her out of the elevator once the doors opened, gently directing her towards her room.
Once they were outside her room, she pivoted and wrapped her arms around his middle for a brief hug. It was the only peace offering she could give him, poor though it may be.
"I am sorry, you know." Angela confessed, the words muffled slightly by the cloth and muscle between the two of them. She felt him sigh, before moving to hold her gently.
"I know." He didn't say it was alright, and she didn't expect him to. She knew that, to him, it wasn't alright. There was nothing she could do to fix that, nothing aside from staying home – but she couldn't do that, not even for him.
So, she stepped back to turn and open her door. Gabriel reached out to touch her shoulder, and she jumped a little. She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous; she'd been fine up until she'd pulled away. Gabriel chuckled, a soft sound that felt like a victory in itself after their argument, and leaned down to murmur in her ear.
"Relax, Angela. I'm not going to bite you." She knew he wasn't going to hurt her – or do anything she didn't want, but she wasn't sure what she did want – at least, not the specifics – and she didn't know if she could just ask him. There was no one to ask; sure, she could go to Ana or Jack, but the thought alone made her want to die of embarrassment.
"I know." She muttered back, pushing the door open and turning slightly so she could look at him. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Angela wasn't sure if that would be the case; before last night she could count on seeing him once or twice a week, but now? She wasn't even sure where up was sometimes.
"Of course." He told her, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind an ear, fingers brushing her cheek lightly, before stepping back. "Good night, Angela."
"Good night." She whispered, closing the door between them.
It had taken a few weeks of cajoling, but finally she'd managed to convince Jack to let her in on at least some of their meetings. So, she found herself with the other three, staring in mild horror at the screens before them.
"It's heading for Hamburg, Germany." Jack explained to the other three, whose eyes were looking at the screens, which showed some kind of rocket travelling towards Earths' surface. "It should land in about twenty-six hours; we'll have a more accurate landing zone in just under ten hours. We need to be in place, in cases this is an attack by the gorillas of Horizon." Everyone knew about the experiments gone wrong in the lunar base, but no one had expected anything to come from space – especially when the omnics were a much more pressing concern.
"What if it isn't an attack?" Angela asked carefully, arms crossed as she watched the screens. There was no telling what was aboard that ship – it could be explosives or a peace offering.
"Need I remind you, Angela, that the gorillas murdered the scientists of Horizon?" Jack responded. "There is no reason to believe this isn't an attack." Angela tore her gaze away from the screens to look at the blonde.
"Yes, but in the extremely unlikely event that this isn't an attack, what are we going to do?" She asked again.
"If it's not an attack, we'll handle it accordingly." Gabriel rumbled from her left. "As long as we don't shoot first, it shouldn't be that hard to manage." Jack nodded his agreement.
"It doesn't look like it could contain more than two of those gorillas." Ana interrupted, still looking at the screen. "So, at worst, we'll be dealing with two of them." Angela turned to the table, pulling up the Horizon research notes that Overwatch had obtained from Luchneg Interstellar before all communication had been lost.
"If it is an attack," Angela said finally, "you'd better send plenty of men – two of those gorillas, left unchecked, could do an extreme amount of damage." Her eyes found the map. "You'll want to evacuate the area of civilians of course, just in case." She doubted that she needed to tell them that, but it made her feel better all the same.
"We'll take care of it, Angela." Jack agreed. "Just in case things do go south," he gave her a pointed look in return, clearly believing that would be the case, "I want to send three medics." Angela raised an eyebrow – it wasn't often he requested multiple people from her outside of rescue missions. "If there's two gorillas on that thing – and there's no reason to think there isn't – do you think one person could keep up with the damage it could cause?" Well, when he put it that way, it did sound reasonable didn't it?
While they started discussing how many agents, and which, they should send, she opened her personnel files to pick her contributions. They were still discussing dispositions when she interrupted them.
"I will send Daigneau – but you'd better get him on a plane now, since he's in Algeria – as well as Remington and myself." She leaned back against the table, daring any of them to challenge her right to go.
"Angela, we haven't decided if one of us is going on this mission." Ana responded carefully, and Angela shot her an incredulous look.
"You mean to tell me that we might be under attack by genetically enhanced gorillas from space and not one of our Commanders are intending to be there? I'm shocked." Gabriel smothered a laugh, and she crossed her arms. "All three of you went out for Bianchi; I'm sure one of you will rise to the occasion now." Angela pushed herself off the table. "I'm going to get ready; let me know when we leave."
The doctor glanced at Gabriel briefly, who gave her a resigned nod, before leaving the room. One way or another, the two of them would be going to meet the rocket. Angela paged Remington on her communicator as she stepped off the elevator into the basement, heading towards her office.
"Remington." The man answered, his face coming into focus.
"Get ready. We're heading to Germany." Angela told him; she wished they knew when they were leaving to give him a better order, but they hadn't even known who they were sending when she'd walked out of the room.
"Anything specific I should prepare for?" The man asked as she closed her office door behind her, making it easier to speak frankly – though she couldn't say the same for where he was. She wasn't sure that the others wanted the fact that gorillas may be coming to be advertised.
"There's a high possibility of major casualties. The mission has rated three medics – just in case." His eyes widened briefly, but he nodded.
"I understand, doctor. I will prepare." They disconnected, and she reached out to Daigneau.
"What do I owe the pleasure, doctor?" Daigneau asked.
"Get your gear; you're heading to Germany."
The rocket had just landed and they were in position. Agents had guns in hand, cautiously pointed towards the rocket – though Gabriel had made it clear that no one was to fire unless there was an obvious, overt danger. Gabriel, guns holstered, was standing in line with the door – was door the right word? She wasn't really sure what to call it – to the rocket, with her in her Valkyrie suit, staff in hand, a step behind him.
He hadn't been very pleased with her choice of position, but she'd made her case easily – and firmly. She had spent almost every minute of the last twenty-five hours and seventeen minutes (she'd kept track) studying the gorillas of Horizon for anything that might give them an edge. She was the best advisor he could have, whether he liked it or not.
The door swung open with a hiss, and a gorilla that, on all fours, stood slightly taller than she was exited the craft. Absurdly, it was wearing a pair of glasses.
"Uh… hi there." The creature said after a long, awkward silence, raising one hand to rub the back of its head. There was a shift among the agents as it moved, and the gorilla froze before putting it back down. It was very clear the gorilla wasn't going to make the first move after a long, tense silence passed, with each side eying the other warily.
Discretely, Angela kicked Gabriel – who turned his head just enough to glare at her without losing sight of the gorilla. She nodded towards the gorilla; they couldn't stay here all day just staring at each other. He was in charge, so he needed to talk to it – no matter how ridiculous the thought of talking to a gorilla was.
"Do you have a name?" Gabriel finally demanded – and Angela rolled her eyes; he definitely could use some lessons in tact.
"I am Winston." The gorilla declared after a moments' hesitation; Angela couldn't recall reading about a subject named Winston, but then again most had been referred to by their specimen number in the reports. She glanced over his clothing – was that the right word? – trying to get a hint of which specimen they were dealing with. Knowing which one was before them would be a great help in this conversation.
"And why, 'Winston', are you here?" Gabriel continued, crossing his arms and shifting his weight.
"I didn't agree with the others – erm, the other gorillas that is – and I left." Angela didn't have to see Gabriel's face to see the look of disbelief. She could hear murmurs from the agents around them. Angela reached out to touch Gabriel's elbow, and he turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"What?" He whispered, clearly not impressed that she was interrupting – even though that was exactly why she was standing at his flank.
"Ask him what his specimen designation was." Angela whispered back, glancing towards the gorilla briefly.
"What does that even matter?" He demanded incredulously.
"He might actually be friendly; there were a small number of specimens that weren't hostile before the attack." She explained, a touch of exasperation in her voice. He didn't look convinced. "If you don't ask, I will."
"Fine." He sighed, before returning his full attention to the gorilla that was standing patiently. Raising his voice, Gabriel called out to him again. "What was your, er, specimen designation, 'Winston'?" He stumbled over the words; Angela sighed and shook her head. The gorilla looked surprised.
"I was specimen 28. Dr. Harold Winston was my caretaker." Angela's mind raced, considering the gorilla before her. Gabriel glanced back at her, trying to see if she had any further information for him. She worried her lip.
"I think he's friendly." She offered. Dr. Harold Winston was a familiar name in the logs and journals she had read, and she was pretty sure he'd been in charge of Specimen 28 as the gorilla – Winston – said.
"I need more than an 'I think'." He told her, and she spread her hands in front of her.
"What do you want from me? Without observation, we can't determine anything." She retorted. "I don't think he'll harm anyone, but the gene therapy caused nearly all the other subjects to become hostile." Gabriel turned back to the gorilla again.
"Winston, I am Commander Reyes of Overwatch." The gorilla did not look impressed. "We are going to take you into our custody. Once we have determined that you are not a threat, we will grant you your freedom." Angela wondered, suddenly, where they were going to put him. She supposed, with some shifting, she could get one of the observation rooms properly suited for a… creature of his size.
"Very well, Commander." The gorilla agreed.
"You will not be alone in a room with that gorilla." Gabriel ordered her. She'd called ahead to Zürich, and her researchers had managed to clear out their equipment from one of the observation rooms and get a large bed installed. Now, Winston was in the room with four armed guards just outside, and she wanted to get started on the testing necessary to keep their subject from becoming unstable. They had the research from Dr. Winston, but it had been some time since his passing.
Since she had decided to be the doctor to interact directly with Winston, she had left her Valkyrie suit on. It wouldn't give her much protection, should the gorilla turn on her, but it was more than the nothing the rest of her staff had. Besides that, albeit small, protection, she also had the authority to speak and make decisions immediately as they became necessary.
"The last time I checked, I oversee the research and medical division." Angela replied idly, glancing down at the clipboard in her hand briefly, before looking back up at him. "That means you don't get to decide what I do with the gorilla."
"Do I need to remind you that he's a prisoner, Angela?" Gabriel demanded. In fairness, she had no purview over prisoners – except for their medical care, which she had demanded shortly after she had met McCree – but this one had a glaring exception. If they didn't get the proper tests and treatments in progress, Winston could become unstable and become exactly the kind of problem they were trying to avoid.
"He's only a prisoner until the research division determines that he's stable. Since, again, I lead the research division, you don't get a say in what I do with the gorilla." She made to walk around him – she needed to get started on Winstons' testing.
"Angela." He grabbed her by the shoulders, physically stopping her. The blonde glanced up, surprised. "Do you have any idea what it can do to you?"
"Well, a regular silverback gorilla is estimated to be about ten to twelve times stronger than a human – with his gene therapy, I imagine he's a bit stronger than that." She'd done some quick reading, once it had become obvious to her that Winston was coming back as a prisoner instead of as a corpse. "That being said, I imagine he's capable of quite a bit of damage – though he hasn't shown any signs of being violent in the past three hours." Her words were perfectly professional. Any sign of fear or misgiving – or even just mild hesitation – and Gabriel would keep her out of that room if he had to tie her down.
Angela wasn't dumb. She knew the gorilla could probably tear her to pieces in less time than it would take to subdue him. However, she truly didn't believe he posed a threat – currently. Taking in Dr. Winstons' notes on his particular case, she felt confident she would walk back out of that room in one piece. But, the longer they waited, the more likely that Winston would become unstable.
"At least take me, a guard, somebody else with you, someone that has a better gun than your blaster." His words reminded her of the uncomfortable weight at her hip; she wasn't foolish enough to walk in unarmed, but even she knew that it would do next to nothing against an enraged gorilla.
"I don't need him anxious; it will skew the results." Angela told him patiently for the third time. "You can wait in the hallways with the four other armed guards." She stepped forward, into his personal space, and pressed her forehead against his chest, her free hand gripping his shirt at his back. "I know you're worried, but I'll be alright." His arms went around her, one above and the other below her wings.
"You had better be." She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. A throat cleared behind her and she jumped. Angela whirled, and it was a testament to his skills and reflexes that Gabriel avoided getting bludgeoned with her wings. Ana was standing in the hall, watching them bemusedly with one eyebrow quirked, and Angela's cheeks colored.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The older woman broke the silence cheerfully, and Angela shook her head. She jumped again when Gabriel put his hand at the small of her back, fingers curling around one of her hips, but she didn't move away. "Good. I was coming to see how things were going with our guest." The blonde doctor, cheeks still red, cleared her throat awkwardly.
"I was, uhm, just heading there Ana. You're welcome to wait with Gabriel in the hall while I handle his interview and do some tests." She offered, and, while she felt the man at her side tense at the reminder, he didn't contradict her. Ana nodded, gently grabbing Angela's arm as she passed to pull the woman along; Angela glanced back worriedly at Gabriel. He was no help – he just held his hands up and followed a few steps afterwards.
"So, you and Gabriel, hmm?" Ana murmured conspiratorially, tucking her arm in the doctors'.
"You, ah," Angela coughed uncomfortably, "you're going to tell Jack, aren't you?" She said, defeated.
"Probably," Ana agreed, "but not right now." They continued the walk, Angela squirming in the silence. Just before they reached the door to Winston's room, Ana broke the silence again. "We will talk about this later. For now, you will be careful." The doctor nodded, resigned, before wiping her hands down her front self-consciously. She grabbed a tray containing various implements she would need from a nearby counter, then allowed Ana to open the door for her.
Her eyes immediately found Winston – it was impossible not to. Ana closed the door behind her as he turned to look at her.
"Hello, Winston." She greeted, not moving from her spot at the door. "My name is Dr. Angela Ziegler." She watched him take in her outfit, eyes lingering briefly on the gun at her side, before returning to her face.
"Hello, doctor." He greeted.
"I feel obligated to tell you, Winston, that there are armed guards in the hallway, and, as you can see, I am also armed." He wouldn't know that her aim was pretty terrible under the best of circumstances. She plastered a gentle smile on her face. "I am not saying this to threaten you, but to warn you. Tensions are high, as you may understand."
"I understand, doctor." Winston heaved a great sigh. "The others of my kind have done terrible things, but I had no part in it." He assured her, leaning back to sit on the bed – there were no chairs in the room, mostly because they had nothing else he could sit on. Angela nodded, finally moving into the room. She set the tray on the bed – there weren't any other surfaces within – and turned to look at him.
"I'm sure you are familiar with some of these tools." Angela said, turning with a tourniquet in both hands. "Let me know if you have any questions."
She left the room, various specimens in containers on the tray. As expected, there were still six people in the hallway. She turned to her left, breezing past them to head towards the research labs. Angela heard footsteps following, but she didn't look to see whether it was Ana or Gabriel. Instead, she strode into the lab and reassigned two technicians to process the samples and to arrange someone to take Winston food. Without looking back, she made her way to her office, only looking up when she had the door open.
Though she hadn't been completely sure, she wasn't surprised to see it was Ana. She had no idea where Gabriel had gotten to, but she wished he hadn't abandoned her to this conversation. Not that it would make this conversation any less awkward, but it would make her feel better. Angela sighed and started stripping off her Valkyrie suit to reveal the black catsuit underneath.
"Yes, Ana?" She asked innocently, as the other woman closed the door. She fooled neither of them; they both knew why Ana had followed her.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Ana asked, lowering herself into a chair.
"Not particularly, no." Angela shot Ana a pointed look. "But if you're referring to Gabriel, then there's nothing to tell."
"What I saw didn't look like 'nothing', Angela." The woman relaxed back in her chair as Angela slid the suit onto its' stand, looking as if they were talking about the weather. Angela sighed and dropped into her chair.
"I didn't say it was nothing." Whatever was between her and Gabriel, that was the absolute last word she'd use. "I said there was nothing to tell." And there wasn't. It had barely been three weeks since that night in her rooms.
"Is that so?" Ana considered the blonde for a long moment, before sighing. "Are you at least being careful?" Angela felt her face heat up – even though she was a doctor and damn it she could talk about sex.
"I – We – haven't–" she broke off, trying to compose herself. "We're not sleeping together." She managed to get out in a rush. Was this what it was like to have a concerned mother? This sucked. Ana raised an eyebrow. "We're not." The blonde insisted.
"I see." Ana looked the doctor over, taking in her embarrassment and discomfort, before nodding once, her face turning serious. "Don't do anything you'd regret, darling. And for goodness sake, don't let him bully you into doing anything you'd rather not." Angela gave the sniper an incredulous look.
"Have you ever heard us argue? If anyone is bullying anyone, it's me." Ana barked out a laugh, but she couldn't disagree. "I'll be fine, Ana." At least, she hoped she would be. "He wouldn't make me do anything I wouldn't want, but I appreciate your concern."
"If you need anything," Ana started, rising, "you can always come to me. Even about Gabriel." Ana grabbed the doorknob and glanced back. "Especially about Gabriel." Angela laughed, but stopped the woman before she left.
"Are you really going to tell Jack?" The older woman nodded, looking somewhat apologetic. She'd known it was a long shot, but Angela was still… uncomfortable. Not that it mattered.
"I know how private you are, but we can't have a Commander and our medical head… together and not tell Jack." She shrugged helplessly. "If it were anyone but Gabriel, Angela, I could keep it under my hat." Angela ran her hands over her face.
"I understand." And she did, even if it sucked. She had known it would come out eventually, but to have it out of her hands was uncomfortable. "Good night, Ana." The woman let herself out.
Angela sighed, staring at the door for a long moment before glancing around her office. She briefly considered doing research, but she knew without even attempting that she'd be too distracted. It was too late to consider going to get food – not that she was hungry anyway after that conversation – but too early to consider going to bed. She got up with a sigh, tugging on her medical coat absently – maybe she could burn off some steam in the gun range – and pulled open the door to find Gabriel on the other side. She crossed her arms and just looked at him.
"What?" He demanded.
"You abandoned me to Ana." She accused, pointing a finger at his chest to emphasize her point.
"You survived, didn't you?" He retorted, but he looked sheepish.
"She's telling Jack." Angela sighed, dropping her arms. He didn't even look surprised.
"I know." He ran a hand over his head. "I should go talk to him, too." Angela nodded. She knew that if she didn't go speak to Jack, he'd just come to her – but that didn't mean she was going to go seek him out. She'd let the other two talk to the blonde Commander, and when he was ready she'd deal with it then. "Where were you heading?" He asked, moving to the side to let her leave.
"I'm not sure." She admitted, closing the office. "I thought I'd go practice in the range; for some reason I can't focus on research." She headed towards the elevator, and he followed behind her.
"I can't imagine why." Gabriel deadpanned back, and she leaned against him as they waited for the elevator.