Widowmaker

She assumed the air blowing upon her face was cool, but Widow couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she needed this solitude and time to reflect. Within the next twenty-four hours she would be on another mission; one that she could only guess would be more dangerous than not. She almost prayed it would be risky, because at least then it would further validate her actions in relation to Lena and Emily.

A chill ran Widow's spine, and her body instinctively shivered.

The influence of the wine had faded. The images of what transpired remained. Did Widow regret becoming so involved with Lena to this extent? No. Not precisely. Did she expect to feel such a powerful connection to the girl even after the fact? She had hoped not, yet here she was, contemplative and aching.

Making love to a woman had been beyond her. Making love to two women was even more of a stretch. Yet, Widow had purposely allowed a pair of young ladies into her life on a powerfully intimate level, and although her emotions were muddled, she ultimately didn't dislike what had occurred. Emily, in her mind, was an extension of Lena, and becoming close to her as rapidly as Widow had was at once disconcerting but not entirely surprising.

Thus, Widow had desired to make love to Lena, and Emily was an unconventional addition to that longing, perhaps even the filter she needed to go through with the notion.

Did Widow love Emily? No. Of course, not. Did she love Lena? That answer remained difficult to commit to. Indeed, Widow's loosely created plan had backfired frightfully. She wanted to be revolted, disgusted, and repelled. It was the only logical result of accepting Emily's proposal. However, Widow's body had become aflame, and having not only Lena but Emily give her attention sexually was the height of pleasure and erotic release. They were good lovers. Disarmingly skilled.

Gerard was not a bad sexual partner, from what Widow could tell, for he was her one and only male mate, but the intense knowledge Lena and Emily commanded when giving a woman rapturous fulfillment couldn't be denied. The way Lena had taken Widow still caused her groin discomfort in an aroused fashion with the mere thought. Her rocking, tiny body. Her aggressive, hungry lips. Her freckles. Her pretty breasts. The way her tongue had wrapped around Widow's. Emily wasn't unwelcome as well, really. Surprisingly. Widow shocked herself with how willing she was to actively participate in the "threesome", as Lena had so crudely called it. It was a session full of unbridled passion, and Widow appreciated the raw, authentic display of physical attraction manifested. It was the first time after so long she felt so very safe. Trust was a rare commodity for her as of late, and therefore, she cherished the event as one she could revel in without consequence.

Thus, her own anxiety confused her. Why couldn't she sleep any longer? Why did her body fuzz with irritation? How could she explain how painful her chest was?

Widow turned on the balcony of Emily's apartment, finding the girl on the other side of the sliding window, a large, white t-shirt her only choice of clothing, the material reaching just midway down her pretty thighs. She waved gingerly, her hair quite a mess, and Widow opened the glass that separated them.

'Hey, Luv. Mind a partner in crime?'

Widow nodded slowly to the redhead, wondering if perhaps she could help her with the bizarre predicament.

'Brrr. A bit chilly out here, huh?'

'I wouldn't know.'

'Right. The whole feeling thing. Seemed to do okay a little while ago though. That's good.'

'It's still somewhat numb, but yes, I certainly "felt" what was happening to my body.'

A pause that only had the quiet racket of King's Row after hours to accompany it.

'You okay?' Emily pried, but Widow didn't mind.

'Mostly, yes.'

'But here you are.'

Widow looked to the girl briefly, turning back to the dimly lit surrounding city.

'I think you are an agreeable partner for Lena, Emily.'

'Oh? Thanks.'

'She cares very deeply for you.'

'Yeah…Still kinda getting over the fact she's me girlfriend again. Thank goodness.'

'…Indeed.'

'But it's kinda tough.'

'Truly? How so?'

Emily stood next to Widow, placing a hand on hers, gripping it tightly upon the rail.

'You love her, too, Amelie.'

'Don't be absurd.' Widow hissed. 'I thought I made myself clear.'

'So did I, and I was willing to forget what I heard in your tone during our first talk, but what I saw tonight made things a little more obvious.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

'I'm not. You're ridiculous.'

Widow almost bit her tongue, staring at Emily dumbfoundedly and extracting her hand from under the girl's.

'Yeah. I heard your little comment, and I could understand it well enough, even if Lena couldn't.' Emily exhaled shakily, meeting Widow's fluctuating eyes. 'To what could have been…my hero. Something like that, innit?'

Widow didn't know what to say to the claim, thus, Emily went on.

'And I noticed a couple of other moments you two had.'

'What of them?' Widow grit her teeth, not willing to deny precisely what she knew Emily to be referring to. 'She's yours, Emily. I want nothing more to do with it. As considerate as your little plan is, I doubt I will make use of your compromise anew.'

Emily blinked rapidly, as if fighting back tears. She was quite the attractive young woman, Widow kept noticing. It confused her. When had this shift in perspective occurred?

'Because it hurts too much?' Emily asked, and Widow, once more, had little to say to that.

'…I don't wish to discuss it.'

'Right on the nose, huh? I was hoping I was wrong this time…'

'I…have nothing more to say.'

'I don't think that's wise.' Emily stepped in a little closer. 'Clear the air with me, at least. Talking helps. It really does. I'll listen free of charge. What do you think?'

'I think you are the north star to Overwatch's sun. A perfect lover for that foolish girl. Why do you insist on troubling yourself over me?'

'Because Lena cares about you, of course.' Emily rubbed her eyes with a sigh. 'That makes you automatically someone I'm concerned about. It's the same for you, right? You really don't seem like the type to make love to someone you just met, especially after everything you've been through, but there we were last night, kissing and a whole lot more. You know why?'

Widow didn't want to say it, but she half suspected Emily was reading her correctly; as right as the moment they had met, this intelligent woman of Lena's.

'Because that's how much you treasure Lena. She loved me. Hopefully still does. So, considering how close you are to her now, it only makes sense that you and I match up so well. You want to like me, because that's what makes Lena happy in your eyes. You can't give her what she wants right now. You want to go off and figure things out before you can even consider Lena as a partner. But,' Emily wiped her reddening eyes. 'I think you should honestly mull it over. I'm not lying to you.'

'Why…on earth would I do such a thing?'

'The same reason you put yourself out there tonight.' Emily smiled distantly, shrugging. 'Because you want our little troublemaker to be happy no matter what. Isn't that right?'

Widow flinched back, touching her own flipping chest. This girl was quite the annoyance.

'Pretty good at this now, huh?' Emily leaned over the railing, staring out over the city. 'I've read so many stories, met so many people – fictitious and not – so, I guess it only makes sense. I get a grip on things real quick. You're a pretty unique case, don't get me wrong, but you're something of a hot and cold kinda lady. Sexiness all around, but just a big ol' softy beneath it all.'

'Hmph. Prattling on as if you know anything.' Widow stood close to Emily, glancing down at her small shoulders and frame. Images of the body within the material teased Widow's desires, and she looked over the city in frustration. 'Do tell me this, then: why on earth am I suddenly capable of finding pleasure in another woman? The concept utterly revolted me prior, yet here I remain, imagining the occasion's encore with both you and that terrible girl.'

'Heh. You're adorable.' Emily rested her head on her arm, giggling toward Widow, making her blush.

'I am not…'

'Sure, you are. You just can't be honest with yourself, and it's cute.'

'You are making light of my question.'

'Oh, believe me; I know exactly what you're feeling…mostly. I mean, I wasn't married or anything before Lena, but I'd been with a couple of guys. None that made me feel like I did the first date I went on with her though, that's for sure.'

'And…what did you feel?'

Emily raised a brow, nudging Widow gently with apprehension in her chocolate eyes.

'A connection, silly. A real, honest connection.'

'A…connection?'

'Can I ask you something personal?'

'I believe you have that right considering our actions a few hours ago.' Widow grinned nervously.

'I enjoyed myself, by the way. That was bloody amazing. Yeah, what was happening between you and Lena kinda bugs me, not going to lie, but my God you're a beautiful woman. Never had more than one person in bed though, and I truthfully do like you. Sorta wish I didn't, in a way.'

'I…can understand that.'

'You seemed to have fun, too.'

'…Quite.' Widow's face was prickling. She was embarrassed to talk about it in detail. 'Regardless, what was your question?'

'Right.' Emily winked. 'Um…You don't have to answer, of course, but I want to ask if you ever felt a real connection to your late husband.'

'Gerard?' Widow thought about the man, and the wave of recently realized dissatisfaction irked her. She had loved him; still did, to an extent. Yet, she wouldn't be married to him now, she suspected. His passing tore at her soul, for they had a happy enough marriage, with a child on the way to further cement their lives into conventional progress, but her perspective had shifted dramatically. She had changed dramatically.

'Tricky stuff, right?'

'Perhaps…'

'That's what I'm talking about, then. With Lena I can be me. Completely. Totally. She's so bloody honest – almost to a fault – that I can only act the same way in return. I think that's what you like about her as well. How many deep, brutally unfiltered conversations did you have with Gerard?'

Widow swallowed, her neck tight. Not many. Hardly any. Work. Social gatherings. Progress. Sex. Marriage. Children. It was the natural line to be followed. She was allowing him to lead without question. Amelie's upbringing assured her all was well. Her parents approved. Gerard approved. Who was she to question the status quo? Life was simply a checklist of accomplishments society deemed correct. The more boxes filled, the better you are at living.

Lena denied all of that. Everything. And she was one of the happiest persons Widow had ever known.

'Lena spoke of a similar subject at one point…' Widow almost whispered.

'Because she wants to know everything about you. She wants to make you happy as well, and she knows the only way to do that right is to have those deep, meaningful talks. I bloody love talking to her. I love knowing what she's thinking. She listens to me. She wants to know my ideas and views on practically everything. She respects me. She obviously cares about me. She thinks I'm beautiful and is such a good lover. Like, Jesus, it's incredible being with her. She lights up the room every single time, and I just feel so strongly for her.'

Widow nodded slowly, frightened by how much she agreed.

'You're the same as me.' Emily didn't ask, and Widow couldn't refuse it anymore. 'Except, you need time to figure yourself out before you can even think about being with her. So, you push her away, knowing it's the best way not to hurt either of you. Damage control. It's kind of you.'

Widow remained silent, reflecting on the sheer amount of time she had spent with Lena up until this point and what it meant to her.

'I…don't know what to say.' She admitted. 'Why would you ever complicate your own life like this?'

'Heh. I'm asking myself the same thing.' Emily scratched the back of her head. 'Maybe because it's what Lena would do? I don't want her to be mine because she felt like there was no other choice. I want her to choose me.'

'She already has, Emily.'

'And I couldn't be happier, but…' Emily furtively glanced at Widow. 'Who knows what the future holds, I guess? I…still want you in our lives. Honestly.'

Widow's eyes began to burn.

'Why would you ever want that?'

'Because you deserve a friend or two after what you've been through. I'm here for you, Amelie. It's totally daft, I know, but Lena's rubbed off on me. A hero wouldn't just manipulate their way into a situation. She'll be mine fair and square.'

'I…' Widow shook her head. 'Thank-you.'

'But don't wait too long, Ms. Lacroix. Give me too much of a lead and you might be in trouble.'

'It's fine.' Widow chuckled. 'First and foremost, I need time to myself after all of this.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes.'

'Well,' Emily fidgeted on the spot. 'If you ever want some stress relief, you know where to find us, right?'

'Heh.' Widow imagined the scenario, and somehow, perhaps because of the two other women involved, it just wasn't as ludicrous as an outside observer might assume. 'I shall keep your kind offer in mind after all, I suppose.' She bumped Emily with her hip, feeling awkward as she did so but fancying the adolescent frivolity of the action. 'If you truly wish to put your relationship at risk, that is.'

'Maybe I'm just confident. Ever think of that?'

'You have every reason to be.' Widow agreed, and Emily's face reddened in the moonlight.

'Jeez. It doesn't work if you're so nice about it all. I was just teasing.'

'I know.' Widow smiled.

A final, tranquil beat, and Emily shivered at last, wrapping her arms around herself.

'I'm gonna get back to bed. You coming?'

'In a moment.'

'Okay. Goodnight, Amelie.'

'Goodnight.'

The sliding window closed tightly, and Widow breathed out a little easier. It was much less stressful to settle on a truth when one had actively been denying it for so long. She wouldn't personally use the word "love", but it was certainly something similar. She needed time once the battle was over. Only then would she have a solidified notion of what she wanted Lena to be in her life. And by then, perhaps she wouldn't even have a choice, and that was fine. If it was Emily, at least Widow knew the girl she had somehow, someway – against all odds – fallen for was being taken care of adequately.

'Lena Oxton,' Widow murmured to the night. 'I do not love you…' She reflected on what she had been and how the young woman had saved her time and time again, a deep, powerful emotion coming over her. A feeling she had never allowed herself to encounter before.

'But I care about you ever so intimately…'

King's Row. A tragic end to a legacy. A hopeful beginning for a killer.