Widowmaker

It was like standing at the brink of the ocean. Waves crashed against her heels, pushing at her in an exciting yet frightening way. The water pulled back, leaving her skin cold, and then rushed forward again, knocking her off balance and making her question everything she thought she knew. The sky was beautiful, and the sun was setting in her enhanced vision. The ocean lingered, peeling away from her, and this went on for as long as Amelie wished it. She had complete control.

And yet, she didn't.

A wave was coming. It was rising higher, and higher, and higher, until Amelie's heart leapt into her throat and she panicked, her body aflame and her instincts telling her to run, never looking back. One thing she missed about being her old self – being Widowmaker – was the complete lack of fear.

Lena was a very, very good kisser. Widow didn't have as much experience as one might expect, but what she could compare Lena to placed her in a completely different realm. Gerard's bristly mustache and large mouth weren't awful, by any stretch of the imagination, but the experience with Overwatch's poster child was completely different. She was leading, taking Widow by the hand and ushering her into a place of sexuality the older woman didn't ever think she would venture.

Their bodies were close. Widow could feel Lena's pressing against hers, her hands caressing her back in perfect motions. She was good. Too good. Every stroke gave Widow goosebumps, and her voice hummed in her throat, startling the sniper.

Widow opened her mouth, and Lena traced her bottom lip with her tongue, kissing her in between and then holding Widow's own within her teeth before resuming a safer method of affection. Teasing. Pushing. Testing. Lena was feeling Widow out in every way, looking for some form of approval. The fact they were still kissing meant something. Widow hadn't said a word, yet Lena had read her mind perfectly.

She wanted this.

When had it started? The exact point couldn't be referenced, but Widow connected the more recent events, knowing the fact Lena was always so incredibly understanding and considerate of Widow's past, present, and future helped. Her loyalty helped. Her respect helped. Her unfaltering dedication helped. This sensation coursing through Widow's cold veins…helped.

However, as Widow sunk deeper into the abyss of a total different form of lovemaking, her mind scattered, and images of her late husband insisted on haunting her. Her reactions to Lena's touches and lips faltered, and when she felt as though she was suffocating with guilt and apprehension, she bit down hard, ripping at flesh and tasting blood almost immediately.

'A-ahhh!' Lena hollered, covering her mouth. 'Bloody hell, Amelie! I don't mind a little rough play here and there, but…Jesus…!'

Widow blinked, looking away and touching her own arm, the tattoo decorating it like a scar reminding her of what she was capable of.

'I said a kiss, little girl. You were clearly insisting on more.'

Lena wet a cloth, putting it to the deep injury Widow had inflicted in panic.

'I know that, Luv, but I have enough experience to know you were giving me "bedroom eyes". I wasn't the only one getting in the mood.' Lena shook her head. 'Perfect. I was raring to go, and now I gotta settle down while bleeding like crazy from my lip. Couldn't just ask me to stop, huh?'

'I shouldn't have to. I've made it very clear that I have no interest in making love to my own sex.'

'Unless it's to get you outta here to go on a hunt, right?'

'Hmph…' Widow scowled, prowling the area and feeling a sense of emptiness; the kind she didn't know how to handle properly. 'Where am I sleeping?' She inquired, needing to change the subject.

'With me, obviously.' Lena giggled, and Widow rolled her eyes as the Brit went on. 'I'll have Athena order some sheets and stuff for us. You can use my bed. I'll camp it on the floor. Gotta keep an eye on you and everything, right?'

Widow swallowed, taken aback yet again by the young woman's chivalry.

'I do not mind the floor…'

'Pu-lease.' Lena laughed, dabbing her lip still. 'I doubt Talon gave you the nicest of places to sleep, and then you had to deal with a hospital bed and dungeon here, so yeah, I ain't giving you anything but the best I have to offer.'

'…I hate it when you do that.'

'What? Make myself irresistible?'

Yes. But Widow would never admit it. Everything Lena did drew Widow to her, making her want to continue where that kiss was taking the young women. Thinking of Gerard and the life she could have had was something of a preventative measure, but even those dark memories could only be illuminated by Lena's wonderful light.

'Your kindness is suspect.'

'Well, get used to it, Luv. Not everyone is out to get you; especially here.' Lena winked, and then went to the washroom's entrance. 'Make yourself at home. I have the same networks on my T.V. as the medical ward, so, you can watch your cheesy soap operas.'

'You're leaving me unattended and without that ridiculous shock collar?'

'Yep!' And she disappeared.

It was immediately strange. When was the last time Widow was left alone in comfort? She couldn't remember. It was almost overwhelming. She took in her surroundings more carefully now, no longer distracted by an inkling of desire, and noted the small nuances within the room that hinted at who lived here for now. Lena Oxton. A young, enthusiastic woman that hid behind a smile, belying her fears and instability in the world. How many knew the real Lena? Should Widow feel fortunate?

The chronal accelerator hummed nearby, it's pale blue light glowing within the dimly lit living space. Lena had to be somewhat close to it, correct? She was lucky she didn't have to always be wearing it, at least. Surely it would get in the way of certain…activities. Still, how careless of the girl to leave the device laying out in the open with someone who was her enemy not that long ago.

Widow approached the piece of machinery and held it in her hands, the complexity of the technology lost on her. She was never one for playing with such trinkets. That was Gerard's area of fun. She placed a hand over the light, the rays piercing through her fingers, and increased the pressure, wondering how much it would take to send Tracer into oblivion forever. One of the best Overwatch had lost because of her ignorant, blind trust.

Widow shook her head, hastily placing the chronal accelerator back where she found it and closing her eyes in frustration. She would be a fool to think everything would be fine just yet. Dr. Ziegler's medicine was losing its effect already. The spans of time between necessary dosages was decreasing. She distracted herself by turning on the previously mentioned T.V., flicking to the station Lena had teased her about and finding nostalgic comfort in the badly shot, old romances from days past. The dramatic scenario was just as outrageous as ever, but the emotions were conveyed rather convincingly, and Widow could appreciate such flair for the arts.

As Widow was about to take a seat in one of the available chairs near a tiny dining room table, she noted Lena's flight jacket hung overtop of one. It was clearly well loved, as its patch work and leather were falling apart. She touched the material, pleased by the sensation, and brought it close to her face, allowing her sense of smell to be overwhelmed by the natural aroma of the piece and traces of Lena, which brought Widow's slowed pulse to a brief spike.

'You devilish woman…' Widow cursed, trying to sound angry but placing the jacket where she found it with affection.

Widow continued to prowl, the sounds of her program giving her confidence and calmness, and when she spotted Lena's phone on the arm of her nice, leather couch, the sniper couldn't help but find herself curious. What was Lena really all about? Who did she converse with on the regular? What sort of pictures did she have stored? Widow didn't hesitate. She needed to know. She wanted an excuse not to care anymore. She attempted to enter the device, but it was locked, of course, and so ended that lapse in judgement, fortunately.

Widow sighed, unable to simply sit, and paced to and fro, missing Lena, and hating herself for it. Absence made the heart grow fonder. A cliched line, yet an appropriate one nonetheless.

The shower stopped. Leave it to "Tracer" to take a fast one. No more than two or so minutes passed before the girl stepped out, her hair dried somewhat into more of a mess than usual, and a towel around her slender body. The slight freckles peppered about her nose seemed more pronounced, and her dark eyes appeared bigger, more attractive than before.

'You doin' okay? Heard the lame lines from your show from in there. Hahah!'

'Heh. Well, they're more elegant than anything you could ever hope to relay.' Widow shot back, and Lena laughed even louder.

'True enough! True enough!' She activated Athena, the towel shaping her tiny curves pleasingly. 'Hey, Athena. Can I ask for an extra bedding set for my guest here?'

"Lena Oxton. Grandmaster class. Currently in charge of Widowmaker. Threat level: lethal. Everything is well?"

'Oh, yeah. Having a gay ol' time here. Pun kinda intended?'

Widow rolled her eyes, Athena's classification of her stinging less thanks to Lena's nonchalant reaction, as if dismissing the old persona with flippancy.

"Affirmative. Bedding on the way. Expected arrival in fifteen minutes."

'Thanks, Luv.'

Lena turned to Widow, moseying on over to the woman and observing the program with crossed arms. She smelled fresh. The dampness of her skin was enticing. The fact a mere towel covered her made the energetic woman seem more vulnerable, and something in Widow feasted on the weakness.

'You really enjoy this, huh?'

'Gerard thought it ridiculous as well.'

'He did? I mean, it's a little goofy, innit? But I just think it's plain cute, if I'm gonna be honest.'

'Cute…?' Widow flinched back.

'Come on, Luv. You're kinda intimidating, right? So, the fact you're into somethin' like this is an adorable contrast. It's obvious. Got a thing for strong ladies with quirks like that.' She giggled, tapping Widow on the shoulder and skipping back to the washroom.

'Just gonna change. I'll be back in a jiffy. You doin' okay?'

'Fine…'

'I'll throw on some coffee for us and whip up a snack or something. We'll have a little rest and relaxation as ordered. Girl's night and such, know what I'm saying? Watch some more corny shows. Maybe a movie? How does that sound?'

'…Not terrible.'

'Brilliant! Be right back.'

"Not terrible". If only Lena knew how lovely it all truly sounded. Normalcy. A life beyond killing. Did this girl even realize how incredible the gifts she offered were? What drove her to be so selfless? She had already proven she wasn't one to take advantage of Widow. It was all part of the problem, really. Widow returned her gaze to the television, witnessing a middle-aged couple embracing one another and kissing.

She had loved Gerard. She had. He was a good man. But something about Lena and how she treated Widow warped her foundation and understanding of what that powerful emotion could be and the way it manifested. She was beginning to care for the girl. It was quite perplexing. Troubling, even. The kiss was enjoyable. Widow somewhat prayed it wouldn't be, but Lena's touch and lips were worth considering after the fact.

Why couldn't it be simple? Why couldn't Widow stay true to her word?

Lena returned, wearing that accursed ensemble from before. Her toned legs were on full display, and her modest features gave her a youthful, girly charm with a dash of masculine, tomboyish mischief. She had a pretty collar, Widow decided, and her stomach was utterly adorable. Her hair was done up a little more than before, pushed back and completely out of her face thanks to a small headband Widow could barely see.

'Oi! Whipping up coffee now!' She skipped into the tiny kitchen, and Widow blinked her lingering gaze away, catching glimpses of the girl's cheek peeking out from her shorts when she moved a certain way. She talked aloud as she worked, rarely one to simply let silence be, and Widow pretended to be more interested in her silly show than every action Lena took in an effort to create a beverage for herself and Widow.

'Can I just call you Amelie for now on?' Lena said eventually, linking the discussion with nothing, seemingly.

Widow thought about the question. She didn't even consider herself Amelie completely quite yet, but perhaps this would be a step in the correct direction. However…

'You may. But only you. Everyone else should refer to me as Widow or Widowmaker, preferably.'

'Oho! I'm special? Nice!'

'You…are the one person who makes me feel like Amelie again. So, yes. I suppose you are special.'

'Aw! Thanks, Luv! But give Ange a chance and I'm sure you'll be trusting her to use your real name too, yeah?'

'Potentially.'

'Heh!'

Widow smiled as well, liking how her words made Lena happy. To bring joy to another…yes. Gerard did that for Widow. Not all the time. He could be rather selfish, especially later in their relationship, but he was a good man. A good partner. Widow couldn't complain.

But did she ever feel so accepted and real in his presence? She was a well-bred woman, and he was brought up in a similar fashion. Expectations. They were present in the relationship. Widow hadn't really thought about it until now. She felt light. She felt free. She felt guilty…

'May I…ask you something?' Widow couldn't meet Lena's eyes as the Brit brought over the drinks, the smell of the black coffee adding to Widow's comfort.

'Course, Luv! Anything, really.'

Widow waited, blowing on her drink and taking a small sip. The sounds from her program were distracting, but she wanted the noise for now. Once she delayed herself enough, Widow made her inquire in the spur of the moment.

'Have you always been this way?'

'Um…Might need to be a bit more specific there.'

Widow chewed on her lower lip briefly, but went on.

'Your…preferences.'

'Oh! Hahah! Have I always been into girls?'

Widow nodded, and Lena straightened herself out, seeing the other woman was quite serious.

'Well, when you're a little lady it's tough to figure that kinda stuff out, you know? I just knew I didn't wanna kiss a boy. My folks figured I'd grow into it, and I sorta thought I would, too. But, well, I figured out that just wasn't who I was.'

'…How?'

'So curious! Heheh! One of my closer friends at the time was nervous about being "good enough" for her boyfriend or some such nonsense. She had, like, zero experience with that kind of stuff, so, I…uh…just offered to help her out. Think I was twelve or something?'

'What did you do?'

'Ugh. I feel kinda bad now, really.' Lena blushed, and Widow could look at her now. It was her turn to hesitate by drinking some of the steaming beverage. 'I kissed her and…stuff. I-I mean, I really liked it. Really. Sent a jolt all the way through me. I touched her a bit, and she…freaked out. Weren't so close after that. Lost a lot of my friends then. It was okay. I fit in better with the boys anyway.'

Widow grimaced, hating the thought of a younger, innocent Lena going through such a learning experience.

'But I'm good now! It's only a part of who I am. Took me a bit to figure that out. If people don't like it, they can shove off. I'm way more complicated than just having a fancy for the ladies.'

'…Complicated may be a stretch, but I do agree with you otherwise.' Widow smirked, and Lena nudged her a bit.

'Bloody hell, Amelie…'

Widow shivered, but not displeasingly.

'Tell me about your most recent lover.' Widow pressed, and Lena's face dropped, her eyes losing their sparkle and her entire demeanor changing.

'Um…I-I'd rather not, if you don't mind. Bit of a sore spot still. Broke up before joining in with Overwatch again. Heh.'

Widow's eye twitched. Ah. Jealousy. She hadn't experienced such a thing in quite some time, indeed; if ever. The more reluctant Lena was, the more Widow desired to know. However, Lena had done nothing but show Widow respect. Thus, the sniper silently muffled herself, refusing to push Lena no matter how much she wanted to.

'…I see.'

A lengthy pause, the mood soured no thanks to Widow's invasive curiosity. She took a few more sips of her drink, trying to find peace in the liquid's warmth in her throat, but only when the T.V. suddenly blink off did Widow return to the moment.

'Emily. That's her name.' Lena breathed out deeply, an angle of the woman revealed once more to Widow. This young lady hated to be vulnerable. Despised it even. This raw honesty burned into Widow's soul. This connection was unique. When had it gotten to this point?

'Truly?' Widow tried to lighten the mood uncharacteristically to encourage the other girl. 'So similar to mine? What are the chances?'

'You're telling me.'

Widow swallowed. Her neck felt tight.

'What did she look like?'

Lena blinked for a second longer than necessary. This side of her wasn't so bad either, strangely enough.

'Red hair. Bloody gorgeous red hair. Pretty brown eyes. Freckles all over. Smart. Level-headed. A little shy, but confident at the same time. Dated men all her life. Didn't think I had a chance, and then…'

It bothered Widow more than she could have ever anticipated. The clarity of the statements ushered her tentative emotions forward. Envy was a cruel mistress.

'You loved her.' Widow shook her head, correcting herself. 'No. You love her still.'

When Lena didn't answer, Widow crunched her teeth together, a fury building within her now.

'And yet, you insist on teasing me. Whatever was your goal, little girl? I am no whore. I would never give myself to you for but a night and be done with it. You claim to care for me. Really? You lust for me. That is all. That is all it could ever be with such fondness in your voice when speaking of this woman.'

'If you think everything I did was just to get lucky then you don't understand me at all.' Lena snapped back, making Widow flinch her words were so full of hurt and frustration. 'I saw someone in need. I saw a fellow human screaming – begging – for help. I'm a hero. I don't ignore that kind of plea. The fact feelings for you grew wasn't what even I expected to happen, okay? Of course I thought you were gorgeous. Of course I fantasized about making love to you. Hell! I'll do you one better: I even imagined what it would be like to have you and Emily at once. See? I'm a touch twisted, Luv, maybe, but I would never – never – think of you as just a piece of meat to give me a pinch of pleasure. I'm not like that, and I really, really thought you knew as much by now. If I didn't still have some feelings for Emily, that would be an insult to what we had. Do you still love Gerard?'

Widow's mouth tightened, thinking of the man and nodding slowly, stubbornly.

'That's right. That's what I bloody thought. But you're starting to see me a little differently, am I wrong? Maybe you won't admit it, but that kiss told me everything I needed to know. I won't push you, but if you're ever ready to maybe see if you can actually fancy another woman, then I'm right here. It might work. It might not. But you can't deny we have something special. I like Amelie Lacroix. What do you think of Lena Oxton?'

Widow digested Lena's words, gripping her mug tightly. Her emotions – her rediscovered emotions – were difficult to understand fully, it would seem. She took a moment, reflecting on all that was said, and realized Lena had made some reasonable points.

'I…' She muttered. 'I admire you…Lena Oxton…'

'A-admire?' Lena half-laughed.

'And…I am envious of this Emily. So, perhaps…that gives me something to think about…'

Lena evidently wanted to pry further, but Widow refused her bluntly, asking where the promised movie was for the two of them to watch. Many an option was presented via a streaming program built into Lena's T.V., but Widow eventually settled on what appeared to be a sappy love story that ended up being a little overly dramatic, but right up her alley. The emotions were erratic and sometimes unreasonable, but Widow could better understand the character's motivations a little better now. The bedding and Widow's medicine were delivered barely five minutes into the film, and from then on, Widow remained on Lena's couch beside her, a blanket wrapped about her form and her remnants of coffee finished in time.

Lena chatted quite a bit during the beginning of the feature, but she started to yawn more and more as time passed, and she then nodded off here and there, Widow finding amusement in her inability to properly fend off sleep. She finished the story on her own, Lena passed out completely with only half an hour left of the movie. When the final credits rolled past the screen, Widow admitted to herself the moment was over, and she glanced to Lena, her head tilted back and her chest breathing steadily. Her neck was terribly exposed. It would snap much more easily than Gerard's.

'No.' Widow said aloud, as if commanding her body to forget any such notion. She turned off the T.V., collected the mugs, and lingered in the kitchen, glancing over to Lena and realizing she was smiling. This…wasn't so bad. Had she ever been this comfortable with Gerard? She thought she had. Really. But there was always a silent level of possessiveness about him, wasn't there? If Widow said something that indicated a moment of solitude on her part, he was rather gruff, as if he dared not risk losing her to anyone else. She saw it as love at the time, but perhaps it was romanticized?

No matter. Gerard was a good man. Far better than any Widow had in her life up until that point. Lena was…a different sort of human being, and naturally, with that, a different set of emotions manifested in her presence. Widow loved Gerard. What did she feel for Lena? It was becoming clearer, and with that clarity, apprehensive fear developed as well.

Widow took her medicine, turned off the lights, and made her way to Lena's bed, slipping into it, as she had been directed, and breathing in the Brit's scent. Her body heated at the sensory overload, and she held the blankets tight around herself, thankful for a normal sleeping arrangement at last. The day, weeks, months, and years seemed to collide into her at once, and she was asleep within minutes, but shaken awake again in what felt like seconds.

Widow's instincts almost put her into full assault mode, her limbs tightening in preparation to attack, but then two arms wrapped around her body awkwardly, and a deep breath escaped next to her ear.

'Lena…?' Widow whispered, but the girl was completely out, likely sleepwalking her way to where she rested most nights these days. Her thin body nestled into the back of Widow's, and she could feel her soft chest squishing against her form. Widow thought about shoving the girl onto the bedding set up to avoid this very scenario. She thought about slapping her awake and reprimanding her. She even thought about just taking the makeshift bedding nearby herself. All these scenarios made the most sense to the old Widowmaker.

Yet, Amelie found Lena's hand, breathed out shakily, and held it around her waist, drifting again into a slumber she never thought she would experience again.