For the first time in Angela Ziegler's life, time had started to move at a snail's pace. The morning that Amélie left for England was a cakewalk. The doctor had gone about her day, making the rounds to the laboratory, the clinic, and her office. It was an unusually tranquil day at the Overwatch Headquarters. Nightfall, however, brought about a completely new mood. From the moment that Angela's head hit her pillow, she couldn't sleep. Her eyes could have burned two little holes in the ceiling from the amount of time that she had spent staring at it. She tried to sleep on her couch, in her bed, and even on the floor. The suspense of not hearing from Amélie since their last encounter was eating her alive. She knew that she had told Amélie to call her, but she couldn't wait anymore. She stepped out onto the balcony of her private quarters and took out her phone. Her fingers hastily danced across the touch screen as she pulled up Amélie's contact, eager to hear her voice. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
"Salut," She said, sounding sleepy.
"Hi," Angela started, "I'm sorry if I woke you. I know I told you to call me, but I couldn't wait… I can't sleep."
"Aw, chérie. I'm so sorry. I meant to call you after practice, but I was so tired when I got back that I fell asleep." Amélie told her.
"I won't keep you long. How did your practice go?" The doctor asked, leaning against the railing of the balcony.
"It went well. I think I danced well since the nerves haven't set in yet." Amélie chuckled.
"I can hardly believe my ears," Angela gasped, "You get nervous?"
"Of course. Mostly around you, doctor." The French woman replied.
Oh, god. Now they were flirting like high school students. Still, a blush crept across Angela's cheeks at the unexpected response. She could practically hear Amélie smirking on the other end of the phone.
"Maybe I'm just better at hiding it than you are." She teased.
"I'm not a miracle worker." Angela retorted, "Well, not always."
"How was your day?" Amélie asked, the sound of her moving around coming through the phone.
"It was easy. And I got a lot done. How was yours?" The blonde woman said as she looked over her shoulder.
"Very busy. Exhausting…" Amélie huffed, "I'm homesick."
"You'll be home before you know it, I promise… Tell me about your ballet. What production is it?" Angela switched the subject as she strolled back into her private quarters, hoping a change in topics would distract Amélie from her homesickness.
"It's called Giselle. It's the story of a peasant girl who wants to be a dancer, but she has a weak heart. She meets a man named Albrecht that she thinks is a farmer, but he's actually a noble. They fall in love and she agrees to marry him… Oh! And there's also this other man who is suspicious of Albrecht, because he is actually engaged to a noblewoman named Bathilde. Toward the end of the first act, some noblemen and Bathilde come into the village and Albrecht panics and tells Giselle the truth. But she dies of a broken heart." She explained.
"Wow… Although, you can't really die from a broken heart…" Angela pointed out.
Amélie giggled, "It's a romantic tragedy, Angela. Not a medical encyclopedia."
"Right, right. Who are you dancing?" As if it was any question.
"Giselle," Amélie said proudly, "The director said he knew that I would be dancing Giselle the first time he ever watched me dance."
"I can't think of anyone better to be the star of the show." Angela told her, prompting Amélie to smile on the other side of the phone.
"I just… I wish that you could come see it. You've been to a lot of my productions this year… This is the first one you'll have to miss."
An idea made its way into the doctor's head and in that very instant, she made a decision. She was going to go see Amélie dance Giselle. She had to. But she wasn't going to tell Amélie. Not yet, at least.
"I wish I could come," She replied, feigning disappointment.
There was a drawn out silence before Amélie spoke up again.
"Are we going to talk about it?" She asked.
Angela nearly asked her what she meant, but reality gave her a quick slap to the face and she remembered everything about the current situation. You know? The situation where the world was on the brink of imploding on itself and Angela was making out with her friend's wife.
"I-Um… Well…" Angela stumbled over her words and felt her face turning red at the sound of her own voice.
"How do you feel?" Amélie wanted to know.
There was no right answer to this question. If she told Amélie that she felt guilty, then she would mess this thing up. Whatever this "thing" was. If she told Amélie that she had feelings for her, then she would mess up her friend's marriage. If she told Amélie that she wanted to do it again, then she would need to accept the fact that her moral compass was broken. There was no fucking right answer.
"That's a stupid question…" Amélie muttered before she could respond, "I know how you feel. I see the way you look at me… That's the only reason I did what I did."
"Really?" Angela asked quietly.
"Yes. You wear your heart on your sleeve." Amélie laughed softly, "But that's why I like you."
Another drawn out silence.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Anything." The doctor nodded, even though she knew Amélie couldn't see her.
She took somewhat of a deep breath before she spoke, "I don't love Gérard. Or… Eh bien… I'm not in love with him. I love him, of course. We grew up together. I just… I married him for other reasons."
"What kind of other reasons?" Angela asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"Family ties… Some politics… Pressure from everyone around me… Stupid reasons, really." Amélie sighed, "I wish I had been more resistant. I don't want you to feel guilty."
"No, I'm glad you told me." She admitted, although she knew that it wouldn't completely rid her of her guilt. But it could work for the moment.
"I understand if you don't want to be around me as often as usual. I'm sure it was a lot to take in… I just needed to get it all out." Amélie said, her voice wavering.
"That's the complete opposite of what I want. And that's the problem." Angela frowned.
"You said you needed time, so I assumed that meant that you'd want space too." The dark haired woman reasoned.
"Nein. If you stopped coming to visit or you stopped inviting me out, I'd surely lose my mind. You're the only thing in the world that's made me feel normal lately."
Even that was spreading it thin. Sure, Amélie's mere presence made it exponentially easier for Angela to play pretend and act like her life was that of the average person. Except for the fact that pretending with Amélie had obstacles of its own. Obstacles like the fact that she was married to one of Blackwatch's highest ranking officials, who also happened to be one of Angela's close friends. And now, knowing that the marriage meant nothing to Amélie and everything to Gérard, the doctor experienced an entirely new type of guilt. This one settled like a brick in her stomach.
"So, then, what do we do?" Amélie questioned.
"I wish there was a correct answer to that question."
"You don't have to feel guilty, Angela. I know you do, but you don't have to. What Gérard doesn't know cannot possibly hurt him." Amélie pointed out, "But I'm going to let you sleep on it."
"Okay," Angela said, "Will you call me tomorrow?"
"Bien sûr. Bonne nuit, Angela. Sleep well."
Every night for the next three weeks, Amélie would call Angela at exactly 7:30 PM. Angela would languidly walk around her office as they spoke on the phone. She would listen to Amélie talk about her practices and she would always make sure that Amélie was taking good care of herself. On the opening night of the show, Amélie had twisted her ankle during the first act and continued dancing on it till the end of the performance. Angela nearly scolded her over the phone when Amélie had told her, but she refrained. After all, she could yell at Amélie for being so careless all she wanted once she got to England. The only good thing about Angela's tendency to be a workaholic was the fact that she had accumulated so much vacation time from it. When she went in to ask Jack, he was more concerned about why she had decided to go on vacation rather than the fact that she was going on vacation. As she left his office, she saw Gabriel in the hallway. She smiled at him and he raised a single eyebrow at her. It wasn't the usual exchange that they normally had, but it didn't seem like anything too out of the ordinary. No need to pay it any mind. There were more important things to think about.
The day of her departure, Angela slipped out of her office with her suitcase and scoped out the hallway. It was empty. The doctor hurried to the elevator and quickly closed the doors. She tapped her foot and checked her watch. She wasn't running late. In fact, she was perfectly on schedule. The only reason she was in a hurry was to evade any of her comrades. Especially Gérard Lacroix. He had a habit of popping up out of nowhere, so now would probably be one of the most inconvenient times for him to catch Angela off guard. She could already imagine him interrogating her about the suitcase and where she intended to go. She shuddered and stepped out of the elevator, doing a double-take in the corridor before continuing on her way. She eventually arrived at a small ship that took her to the airport. She had booked a flight knowing that if she used the transportation services at the Headquarters, word would certainly get around. Not that the pilot would know why she was even going to England, but the fact that she was going alone was enough cause for suspicion. This way was just better. Safer.
After nearly two hours, the plane touched down in London, England. Angela gathered her things and vacated the aircraft along with the other passengers. She hailed a cab and told the driver her destination as she shut the door behind her. Being in the back of a taxi again reminded her of the night that Amélie kissed her. She felt goosebumps break out across her arms beneath the sleeves of her beloved grey turtleneck sweater. For the remainder of the lengthy drive, Angela occupied herself with thoughts of Amélie; Something she had recently become very good at. It always helped to pass the time. Right now was no exception. Before she knew it, they had pulled up outside of her hotel. She paid the driver, thanked him, and went on her way. She passed the valet and entered the large building through a revolving door. Inside, the floors were marble and the ceilings were high. The room almost appeared to be glowing gold from the light that the chandeliers were giving off. Angela felt severely underdressed as she approached the front desk. A man in a nice suit looked up from a holopad.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?" He asked.
"Hi, I'd like to check in." Angela told him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Last name?" The man asked as he returned his gaze to the holopad.
"Ziegler."
He hesitated and looked up at her. "The doctor, right? I thought you looked familiar."
She wasn't quite sure what to say. It wasn't too often that people recognized her. She offered a smile and he looked back to the holopad again.
"You're in room 524. It'll be on the fifth floor of the building." The receptionist said as he handed her a room key, "And if there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know."
"Thank you." Angela replied as she stepped away from the desk.
She went on toward the elevators, directed by fancy signs that were hanging on the corners of every hallway. She reached the elevators and selected the up button, waiting to hear a ding or something. Other guests walked by Angela and gave her dirty looks. She was definitely severely underdressed. These people would never in their right minds believe that she was a world renowned medical professional. No wonder she never got recognized by random passersby. She stepped into the elevator and rode up to the fifth floor. The hallways were wider than she expected, with big, fancy windows at the ends. She found her way to her room and unlocked the door, surprised to see that the room looked identical to the photograph she had seen online. She tossed her suitcase onto the floor beside the bed and quickly stripped off all of the blankets except for the sheets. Then, she flopped onto the bed and exhaled loudly.
Travel was exhausting.
Exhausting, but well worth it. The show was amazing. It might have just been Angela's favorite ballet that she had seen Amélie dance. As usual, the performance earned a standing ovation and the stage became decorated with flowers that had been thrown from the members of the audience. After the curtains closed, Angela looked around to see where the most commotion was. She followed the horde of friends, family members, and significant others that tried to fight their way backstage. With a little bit of assertion, Angela was able to push past the crowd and slip behind the curtains. A crew had already started to pick apart the props and the backdrops from the performance. A few of the dancers hung around and chatted. Amélie was nowhere to be found. She was about to ask around when she caught a glimpse of Amélie walking by the other end of the stage. She walked out of sight, but Angela sped up and followed her. She took a right and walked down a hallway to what Angela assumed was her dressing room. The door shut behind her and Angela came to a stop in front of it soon after. She knocked on the door.
"Amélie Lacroix? Can I have a moment? I'm your biggest fan." She announced.
Amélie threw the door open and stared at her in disbelief. Angela giggled at her expression. It was priceless. Amélie grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the dressing room, closing the door behind them.
"Que fais-tu ici?" Amélie gawked.
"I thought I'd surprise you. I couldn't not come see you dance." Angela told her in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Angela, I…" She trailed off, tears welling in her eyes despite the smile growing on her lips.
Her lips. Angela watched them as they curved upward at the corners, revealing a set of pearly teeth. She remembered the way that they felt against her own lips. It had nearly been a month. She longed to feel them again, to taste them again. She took her by the waist and pulled her in close, crashing her lips into Amélie's. One of Amélie's hands found its way to the back of Angela's neck. Her hand was cold, but it felt nice. Chills ran down Angela's spine as they pulled apart from one another.
"Je te remercie," She said quietly.
"Are you hungry? Let me take you to dinner." Angela offered.
"You came all this way and you expect me to let you buy me dinner?" Amélie questioned, raising her eyebrows at the doctor.
"Yes. Please?" She insisted.
Amélie looked at her for a moment before groaning, "Fine, fine. But that's it. Anything else we do, I'm paying."
"Whatever you say, Amé."
"You know," Amélie started between spoonfuls of ice cream, "I don't think the waiter liked us all that much."
"What gave you that idea? Certainly not the way he looked at us when I asked him for ice in my wine." Angela bantered.
Amélie shuddered, "I still can't believe you did that. Putting ice in your wine should be considered a crime."
"I didn't know how much longer I could hide my biggest secret from you. And now that I've opened up about it, you want me thrown in jail." The doctor sighed.
"It's not you, it's me." Amélie joked as she scraped at the bottom of her bowl.
"Uh-huh," Angela laughed and shook her head, "Sure."
Amélie finished the last of her ice cream, wiping at her mouth with a napkin. Angela had long since finished her own dessert. She always ate like she would never eat again, wolfing down anything that was set in front of her. Sometimes it was good that she did that. After all, she would normally forget to feed herself. She often wondered how she had made it this far in her life without being able to take care of herself.
"Where are you staying?" The French woman questioned as she stood up and collected her bag.
"A hotel a few blocks away from here," Angela informed her, "It's quite nice."
"Forgive me, but I'm beginning to question your judgement, doctor. You put ice in your wine." Amélie pointed out as they exited the ice cream shop.
"You'll never let it go, will you?" Angela asked.
"Probably not. Should we hail a cab?" Amélie stopped at the curb.
"Mmm…" The Swiss woman looked around for a moment, "Do you mind walking?"
"Not at all." She said, matching Angela's pace as she began walking in the direction of the hotel.
It was quiet, save for the occasional car horn in the distance and the chatter of people inside of the restaurants they passed. A band played on the corner of one of the streets and a few passersby had gathered to watch. The music floated through the streets and filled Angela with that flickering sense of euphoria. The air was cool and crisp and the yellowish glow from the street lights reminded her of a few summer nights spent in Dorado during one of her first missions. This was nice. Angela hadn't even noticed Amélie's staring until she felt cold fingers intertwining themselves with her own. She turned to Amélie, who now wore a smile on her lips.
They hadn't exchanged a word when they finally reached the sidewalk outside of the hotel. They hadn't needed to. Silence was comfortable, now. It was different, now. Something that Angela didn't have to be afraid of anymore. They stopped and Angela looked up at the fifth floor of the building. She wasn't ready to be away from Amélie again. It had been three long, horrible weeks filled with longing and too much time to think. Amélie seemed to feel the same way as she followed Angela's line of sight.
"I'd better walk you up. This is a rather suspicious looking establishment. I would hate for something to happen to you on your way back to your room." Amélie said, earning a giggle from the blonde woman.
Amélie started walking again and her grip on Angela's hand tightened. They walked into the now empty lobby and Angela pointed her to the elevators. On the ride up, Angela made it seem like an accident when she purposely pressed a few extra floors, just to have a bit more time with Amélie. She felt ridiculous for resorting to such childlike tactics, but it was Amélie's fault for always making her feel like a high schooler experiencing her very first real crush. The elevator came to a stop at her floor and she showed Amélie the way to her room. When they stopped in front of the door, Angela brushed some loose hair out of her face and sighed.
"Well, thank you for walking me. I'm relieved that there were no ruffians around." She prodded.
"It was no trouble." Amélie smiled, "Thank you for coming all this way to see me dance. It really means a lot to me. I hope you know that."
Angela blushed, "I like to watch you dance. It's—Er—You're beautiful."
Curse her inability to be romantic. Curse her stumbling over words at the wrong time. Curse her cheeks that lit up bright red every time Amélie so much as breathed in her direction. Regardless, Amélie placed a gentle peck on her forehead. Their eyes met for a moment and Angela couldn't resist stealing a kiss. Their lips touched for what felt like a fraction of a second, but that just wouldn't be enough. That wouldn't be enough for almost a month's worth of fantasizing about how it would feel to kiss her again, to touch her again. It simply wouldn't do.
Amélie, once again, appeared to be on the same page as Angela. She pulled Angela in closer and kissed her hard. It was yearning at first, slow and almost thoughtful. Then, Amélie's teeth grazed over Angela's bottom lip. She bit down ever so slightly, eliciting the smallest moan from the back of Angela's throat. Amélie pushed her back against the door and parted her lips with her tongue. Angela felt a surge of heat flow through her entire body and she swore her chest was about to explode. She decided, though, that this wouldn't be a terrible way to go. With Amélie pressed against her, breathing in her scent. Tonight, she was wearing a perfume that smelled like clean linen and jasmine. Yeah, this wouldn't be a terrible way to go at all.
Her hands fumbled in her purse as she searched for her room key. When she finally found it, she broke the kiss and turned around, trying to unlock the door. Her shaking hands made it quite a difficult task, especially with Amélie dotting her neck with kisses and nips. She flung the door open and pulled Amélie in, the door slowly shutting on its own behind them. Amélie kissed her hungrily, a bit surprised when her lips were met with equal demand by Angela's own. Angela found herself backed up to the edge of the bed and put up no fight when Amélie pushed her onto it. The doctor lie on her back as Amélie crawled over her, holding herself above Angela and attacking her neck again in a flurry of bites and small pecks. Angela moaned softly as Amélie's teeth grazed over her throat, one of her hands sliding beneath her shirt and roaming over her stomach. Her normally icy fingertips were now like lit matches, dancing across her skin and setting her body on fire.
Amélie pulled Angela's shirt over her head and tossed it to the side of the bed, reuniting their lips with a sloppy kiss. Amélie's hot breath caused goosebumps to break out over the doctor's skin as she kissed her way from her lips to her chest. While her lips were focused on Angela's collar bone, her fingers worked nimbly to discard the nude colored bra that stood in her way. Angela sat up a bit to speed the process along, just as eager as Amélie. With the impeding article of clothing out of the way, Amélie went on. Her hands moved to Angela's back, pulling her in closer as her lips closed around hardened pink flesh. Angela felt heat pooling in her lower abdomen as she swallowed what would have been a moan. All she wanted was to feel Amélie's touch across every inch of her body.
She wouldn't have to wait as long as she first thought. Amélie's right hand trailed down to her jeans, dexterously unbuttoning them with only one hand. When she had them unbuttoned, Amélie's hand snaked into Angela's pants and her fingertips lingered over the damp cloth between the doctor's legs. She flashed Angela her winning smirk and removed her hand from the jeans, using both hands to yank them down her legs. Angela kicked off the left leg as Amélie became distracted again, moving back to her and beginning to remove her own clothes. As she pulled off the t-shirt with the logo of her dance studio, Amélie looked down at Angela, who was now wearing only a pair of white underwear. She licked her lips like a lioness that had just found the perfect meal. Angela felt her heart jump into her throat and she swallowed hard. Amélie had just barely removed her pants when she returned to the bed, her lips instantly finding their way to Angela's stomach. She stayed there for a while, enjoying the small bucks that Angela's hips did every time she ran her tongue over a certain sensitive spot.
"Amélie… Please." Angela gasped, looking down at her.
"What do you want?" Amélie asked as she continued her path of kisses all the way down to Angela's inner thigh.
Angela absent-mindedly spread her legs further, feeling like she might lose her mind from the agonizing pace that Amélie was moving at. Amélie wore a deadpan expression as she patiently awaited Angela's response. Of course she knew what Angela wanted from her. And she wanted to give it to her just as badly. But she wasn't going to budge until she heard Angela tell her what she wanted.
"Y-Your mouth," The doctor sputtered, "Please."
"Tellement impatiente," Amélie said with a devilish grin.
Angela had spoken and now she would happily oblige. The French woman got off of the bed and kneeled down on the floor at the end of the mattress. Her arms hooked beneath Angela's legs and she tugged her to the edge of the bed. Angela watched as Amélie pulled off her panties, eyes half-lidded and a devious half smile plastered to her lips. With the underwear out of the way, Amélie wasted no time. She pushed her head between Angela's thighs and delved her tongue into the slick, pink skin. Angela stiffened like a board and felt the air in her lungs become caught in her throat. However, this was quickly remedied by Amélie's tongue finding its way to Angela's clit. The blonde woman threw her head back and white-knuckled the bedsheets as Amélie tested different patterns on the sensitive bundle of nerves. When she flicked her tongue rapidly, but just barely made contact with the skin, she could elicit the most heavenly moans from Angela.
"Oh mein gott," The Swiss woman breathed, her head swimming with overwhelming amounts of dopamine.
Hearing Angela's reactions to everything that she was doing was a new form of intoxicating. It encouraged her to keep going, to please Angela as much as she could. Amélie quickened her pace and it didn't take much longer for Angela to reach her climax. Her fingers tangled themselves in Amélie's dark tresses and she pulled hard. Amélie couldn't help but let a small moan escape her own lips and the feeling was enough to push Angela completely over the edge.
"Amélie! Fuck!" She cried out as she felt a surge of heat and a tidal wave of pleasure ripple through her.
When her body felt less limp, she lifted her head to look down at Amélie, who was now peppering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. She took a minute to catch her breath and wiped the back of her wrist against the thin layer of sweat that coated her forehead. Amélie crawled back onto the bed, leaning down to give Angela a slow, passionate kiss. Angela closed her eyes blissfully and savored the feeling of Amélie's lips. Their foreheads touched as their lips broke apart and Angela propped herself onto her elbows. She brought a hand to the back of Amélie's neck and pressed her lips to the skin on her cheek. She moved her mouth to Amélie's ear and nibbled gently on her earlobe, prompting a small gasp to escape Amélie's lips.
"My turn," The doctor murmured, "Strip."
Her wish suddenly became Amélie's command. That didn't mean that she couldn't have fun with it, though.
Her hands moved to the clasp of her black lace bra, unhooking it and letting it slip off of her shoulders and onto the bed in front of her. Angela watched with a sinful haze in her eyes as Amélie's lithe fingers traced down her bare skin toward the waistband of her pants. Her lissome body was more beautiful than Angela imagined. Amélie stood up to remove her pants, then took off her underwear at a tantalizing, torturous pace. Angela wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but then Amélie would beat her at her own game. She clenched a fist and watched as Amélie returned to her side, sitting on her knees with her legs shoulder-width apart. She leaned in and kissed Angela, her hand finding the clenched fist and slowly unraveling each finger. Breaking the kiss, Amélie locked eyes with Angela and brought her hand to her mouth, closing her lips around Angela's index finger. Angela's eyes widened and she felt a second surge of adrenaline flowing through her veins.
Amélie sucked on her index finger, then her middle finger, and finally her ring finger before guiding Angela's hand between her legs. Sure, Amélie had lead her there. But Angela knew all of the secrets to human anatomy. She was determined to use those secrets to give Amélie pleasure like she had never known. And she did. The entire time, Angela kept her eyes riveted onto Amélie, watching her expressions change as she pushed her fingers in and out at an ever-changing pace. Amélie wasn't nearly as loud as Angela, but she did produce many guttural swears and whimpers. Angela could feel her tightening around her fingers rather quickly as Amélie dug her fingernails into the skin on her back. Her nails raked up to Angela's shoulders as she came undone around the doctor's fingers. A flurry of French curses floated past her lips and she slumped against Angela's frame. She buried her face into the crook of Angela's neck, breathing hard and trying to compose herself. Angela planted a kiss on the top of her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. The weight of Amélie against her, combined with the faint scent of her perfume and the sound of her shallow breathing… It was perfect.
Amélie leaned back and captured her mouth for a moment. "I'm not finished with you, yet." She purred against Angela's lips.
Okay, now it was perfect.