So, as it turns out, these 1k and fewer posts are actually really easy and entertaining for me. I'm probably going to just stockpile them, like write more than one at a time, and release them whenever the last chapter gets x number of views. That is, assuming you guys don't mind?

ALSO: WIDOW WAS NEVER PART OF OVERWATCH IN THIS AU.

The perpetual silence of the stealth mission was finally starting to get to D. Va. She had already been poking around a handful of buildings, but she hadn't yet built up the courage to go inside- not that she would admit that's why she hadn't entered one yet. If asked, she would have said that it was because 'she didn't see there to be a point, you can go in there yourself if you're so bored, but I have better things to do.'

Loud enough to be heard by the mech pilot but yet quiet enough to allow for the entrance of sound in the surrounding area was 'Gee' by Girls Generation, a popular Korean Pop group that D. Va liked to listen to when she was en route to a task site. Her lips moved to the lyrics of the song, but her mind was still elsewhere- the music hadn't done a sufficient enough job of distracting her; she still had eyes that darted back and forth across the barren, empty landscape. She didn't want to be so paranoid, but she couldn't help but feel as though she was being watched. The feeling was unsettling, and she couldn't identify why. Maybe it was just general paranoia; looking in her rear view camera that was scanning the surrounding area with a thermal as well as magnetic lens, there was literally nothing of interest anywhere within about a kilometer. The scanner didn't quite go that far, but close.

Cheeks inflated, then deflated as D. Va took in a deep breath, staring at the doorway to the massive building in front of her. It was structurally sound enough to allow for someone to be inside, and she was starting to develop the sneaking suspicion that the feeling of being watched was a result of her decision not to check inside. Gaze locked on the doorway, bare wood floor tainted with dust just inside and nothing else visible from her vantage point. Her look of trepidation quickly shifted to one of determination. She reached above her in the cockpit, twisting a dial, and pulling it out; this disengaging the airtight seal of the translucent casing she lay in with a quiet hiss that hung in the air, riding the wind perhaps longer than natural, and allowing for her to exit.

Cold feet plagued the Korean girl briefly, but after another moment or two of consideration, she decided it was what must be done. She checked to make sure she had her piece with her, and pushed open the glass in front of her.

One boot, connected by stitching to the rest of the skintight bodysuit, slowly reached down and, hesitantly, came into contact with the ground. Another deep breath. A second foot. Supporting herself on the exterior of her mech with her hands, she lowered her weight onto her feet, standing beside the purplish pinkish piece of machinery. Both of her arms raised above her head, stretching out over the top of her. She even allowed her eyes to close as she indulged in the stretch, which felt good after laying prone inside of her mech for so long without having this luxury. The thin material of her bodysuit stretched with her, pulling tighter along every inch of her petite, adorable figure. When she had concluded her stretch, she realized she had inadvertently given herself a wedgie.

A small snort of laughter as she reached back behind herself, pulling the fabric from between the cheeks of her smallish, athletically toned rear. She pulled it out away from her body, giggling quietly as it snapped back into place over her. It was irritating to deal with most of the time, but her uniform was too cute not to wear, she had decided a while back. Besides, it made drool absolutely pool from the mouths of all the sexy fangirls-

Fanboys, she scolded herself mentally. Her nose wrinkled in disgusted annoyance. Her labels, as well as her military unit, were both not very big fans of homoeroticism, and numerous times D. Va had been required to release a statement assuring, falsely, that she was not either, at risk of losing her benefactors as well as her job. She had never actually been with anyone before, and she thought she could definitely be alright with... 'Getting with' some of her fanboys, but the beautiful, curvy figures of her fangirls wearing makeshift 'D. Va suits' was always what got to her.

Pouting to herself at the concept, D. Va reached down along the outside of her right thigh in order to grab at the pistol that was holstered there, her weapon of choice; sure, she could handle something larger: a grenade launcher, assault rifle, shotgun, but the simplicity and elegance of a pistol alluded her more than anything else.

She traced the pink lines of her face paint while admiring it, and the back of her hand bumped into the mic of her comm link. She frowned, realizing that she had kept it on instinctively despite not having been able to use it this entire time. After a brief second's consideration, she flicked it upright along her head rather than setting it inside the buglike contraption beside her.

Looking to her mech, then, she traced a finger along one of the twin energy miniguns. There was a certain amount of disappointment with having to part with her mech, even if it was only temporary. It was sort of like a security blanket for her. With renewed confidence, however, D. Va pried her gaze away from the mechanical wonder by her side, and without thinking twice stepped into the building, pistol raised.

POV shift

Hanging upside down from a building with a perfect line of sight to the purple monstrosity of a tank was the sniper. Thick, straight dark hair hung down from her scalp and two or three feet below her, swaying back and forth slightly. Trusting her grapple incredibly, she was suspended from a crumbling building about fifteen or twenty stories above ground level. Her feet were above her, wrapped about the cable to stabilize her and free up both of her hands, which clutched a rifle, whose scope lay against her right eye. Despite being far out of the view of the naked eye at this time of night, the spiderlike being was perfectly capable of seeing the machine. It was a bright red pulse on her magnified viewing window, against a deeper, almost neutral red that signified no POI's.

"How did they get a drone past the barrier," she whispered in quiet confusion, perfectly plucked eyebrows angling downward-upward?-against her eyes, lightly painting her tone of voice which was accented gently with French. Surely someone would have to die as a result of this. Reyes would know, certainly; the Reaper always seemed to have sixth sense for who will or needs to die when and why.

The display underneath her crosshairs on the inside of her sight told her that she was fully charged and imbued to 100% of the power necessary to take out the drone, and she was beginning to line up her shot when it abruptly stopped in front of the doorway to he building which it was in front of. This made the Widowmaker pause, her lips parting slightly in surprise. No unmanned drone would behave in that manner. Was it possible that this was a manned mission, all alone? Who would possibly have the courage, or perhaps the stupidity, to try this all by themself?

Behind her scope, the tactical visor she wore slid open, and the bath of red that was pulled over the world vanished. She couldn't see this in infrared; she needed to see this for herself with nothing but her optic zoom. This, she did, zooming in ever closer in the hopes to see who was inside what she now knew was a- deep hued lips curved into a smile. The cockpit was opening to allow for the pilot to exit, obviously to attempt an assault on foot. This was going to be far too easy, and a waste of an armor-piercing round as well.

When the ex-pro StarCraft player exited the mech, however, the assassin froze with her finger on the trigger, crosshairs hovering directly over the temple of the girl. Amélie did nothing but stare as the provocatively near-translucent material that liberally and somehow simultaneously conservatively covered the girl pulled taut over her body, hugging to her breasts, drawing the sniper's attention.

"Don't play with your food, Amélie," echoed the words of a concerned mentor in her mind. But yet, even as these words of wisdom resurfaced for her, tongue tracing slowly over dry lips, she knew that there would be no convincing her otherwise. The opportunity had presented itself beautifully for her, and she intended to capitalize on it entirely.

"You have my attention."

Widowmaker disengaged her grapple, free falling for but a moment before firing it off again, grapple swinging in the direction of the girl, sticking to the rooftops. She had to get to her before she lost her chance.