Chapter 11
From Dorado with Love
Water pattered onto her body in a steady rhythm. It was merely warm. Her skin had gotten sensitive, so she had to be careful with the temperature.
Widow thought of that as quite the shame. She liked hot showers back when she was still her old self. That old urge got her burnt sometimes. Today she needed to be fit for the mission. Still, she occasionally and absent-mindedly tested the waters.
Her thoughts were lingering somewhere else right now. Yesterday she had visited her husband's grave with a bouquet of red roses. It felt like a duty, like something she owed. Widow felt like admitting to regret.
Amber eyes blinked once.
This time of year always blindsided her most. She wasn't used to feeling so much anymore.
How long have I been daydreaming ?
A simple motion stopped the shower. Widow lingered for a few moments, wondering. Then she noticed a blurry figure waiting outside. Waiting for quite some time, she imagined.
A rush of anger got hold of her.
I've been like this for months now!
She wanted to hit the shower wall, but thought better of it. It was harder to control herself these days. After breathing through deeply, Widow gracefully stepped outside, one clean-shaven, dripping leg in front. A slight mist was hanging around in the bathroom, steaming up the mirror and her assistant's thick glasses.
Tiffany held a towel at the ready for her mistress. Widow stared at her with scrutiny. The American girl's demeanor was sober and distant, like it always had been. Her mistress just never cared to particularly notice before.
She reminds me a bit of myself.
It bothered her beyond reason. A sudden whim caught hold of Widow.
"Why do you wear glasses?"
"I am short-sighted, Madame."
Widow's hand went past the towel and took away Tiffany's steamed up glasses instead. The blue-eyed girl blinked a few times. No matter who you are or what you like, Widowmaker was objectively gorgeous. Tiffany blushed slightly, trying to keep her gaze away from places where they didn't belong.
"Lucky you."
The mistress allowed herself to smirk and let the glasses glide gently into her assistant's hair.
C'est mieux. [Better.]
"They don't suit you. You will wear contact lenses from now on instead."
Widow's voice lost its playfulness. That was an order.
"Y-Yes, Madame."
"Now go and fetch my underwear. I feel like lace today."
"Yes, Madame!"
Widow took the towel and dried herself up, watching her aide with amber eyes as she rushed out of the bathroom. There was a certain smug satisfaction after teasing the girl, even if that wasn't as satisfying as teasing another certain someone.
Wait… Am I acting weird again?
The thought penetrated her skull before she could analyze her enjoyment further. Widow stood there in thought. While drying herself with the towel, Reapers words of warning echoed through her mind.
'When was the last time you smiled outside of work? This girl will be the end of you.'
Tiffany soon returned with black lace underwear. It wasn't the best for combat situations, but Widow really didn't care. She just felt like it.
"Is everything in order, Madame?"
Tiffany seemed genuinely concerned, trying her very best not to stare. Widow arched an eyebrow, clueless why her aide would ask such a thing. Then she noticed that she had been sub-consciously rubbing her temple with one hand. Widow quickly stopped herself.
"It is. Everything is in order."
A feeling akin to embarrassment crept up on Widow, so she just snatched the bra out of Tiffany's hands and started dressing.
"Is… there anything I can help with?"
The mistress looked at her with irritation as she finished pulling her lace panties into a snug position.
"You can fetch the hair-drier."
Widow turned away and sat down in front of the only mirror in the room. Her assistant did as she was told and soon went to work.
They spent some time listening to the blow of hot air in an overall slightly awkward atmosphere. Both had long since gotten used to that kind of relationship. Amber eyes were observing the process with scrutiny until the deed was finally done. Her assistant was beginning to put all the tools away and take her leave, like she always would.
Unlike usual, her mistress' voice stopped her from doing so.
"Stay. The comb next. You will be doing my hair today."
[Linebreak not working in this spot, please ignore.]
"That soon?"
They were sitting on their couch at home. Lena was lazily zapping through channel after channel. She briefly stopped at what seemed to be an old drama flic.
"You're tearing me apart, Lisa!"
The flic seemed to have particularly bad acting. Standing next to the television was a comparably small Christmas tree. It was spending light on this evening instead of the overhead lamp that usually did the job. They wanted to save a bit of energy this way.
"Bah, nothing decent on the telly… Sure, why not? Don't you wanna come along?"
"Of course I want to! I'm happy… it's just a bit, uh, sudden."
'Sudden' was an understatement for Emily. She was excessively nervous about what would happen tomorrow.
"It can't be helped, luv. I know she'll be working against us on the mission tomorrow, so that's our best shot."
"Didn't you cancel on the mission precisely for that reason?"
Lena had indeed avoided Widow any chance she could get in the past few months. Even now, the mere thought made the little Brit squirm.
"Well… yeah, but now we're on it."
"We sure are."
Emily leaned against her girlfriend and let out an anxious sigh. They had a blanket over their legs to help against the cold. Lena always used these opportunities to stroke Emily's closest thigh possessively, which the owner of that thigh didn't mind at all.
Zap.
"-natural habitat of the wild capybara. The local people have learned how to tame them and use them as pets."
"Oh gosh! Lena, look how cute they are!"
"Sometimes, the village children are allowed to ride on the back of the animal."
"Woah! Thaz like a horse for mini people."
"You mean children?"
"Yeah, those."
"Hmm. It's not that special I guess."
"Why's that?"
"You could do that with a pig, too. Capybara's do look like furry pigs."
"Ever rode a pig, luv?"
"No, but I heard some of our prime ministers liked to do that back in the day."
Zap.
"…in a shocking turn of events, decided to abdicate en masse today."
"Ah, sorry!"
Lena forgot for a second that Emily had an aversion to watching the news at home. She didn't want to ruin the mood, especially when her girlfriend was on vacation from all this news stuff at the Evening Standard, so she quickly switched the channel again.
"As of now, observers wait for further development-"
Zap.
"…speculate that the criminal organization Talon…"
Zap.
"…frantic search for the next person in line…"
Zap.
"…your mother is a hamster, and your father smells of elderberries!"
Finally, Lena turned the television off.
"Gee, there's really nothing on tonight!"
"Wasn't that last one Monty Python?"
"Monty who?"
"You don't… aww, I'll show you someday."
"Why not-"
Lena felt a soft hand drift below her shirt, lovingly caressing her tummy.
"-heh, one more time before the big day?"
"Don't say it like it'll be our last..."
Emily made a pout, prompting a giggle from her girlfriend. Lena leant down for a small kiss and looked deep into her eyes. She whispered:
"Of course not. We'll be together Emi, no matter what."
They giggled lightly into their next kiss. Still, Emily wouldn't be able to shake her nervousness tonight.
Widow had never allowed her to take care of the personal grooming. Up until now at least. As if that wouldn't be enough, the smaller girl was already shaken up from earlier. Witnessing Widow's naked, wet, godly proportions made her want to squeal for all kinds of different reasons. Yet on the outside, Tiffany remained the very image of contenance.
"Yes Madame."
The American girl took the tool as instructed and got to work in silence for a while. She delicately combed her mistress' blue hair, pulling it back, meticulously removing every slight bump on the way.
"You've done this before."
There was a hint of surprise in Widow's voice, probably stemming from the fact that Tiffany kept her own blonde hair short, apart from a small ponytail that barely reached the neck.
"I have."
"Where?"
She hesitated.
What's with the sudden interest?
"Before this… I guess I was a mix of stylist and manager for an actress back home in Jersey."
Tiffany put the tool aside and tied the blue hair up in exactly the way Widow liked it. She had observed her mistress do it a hundred times.
"How was her hair?"
"A bit brittle, but beautiful. It needed a lot of attention, but it wasn't as long as yours."
"Why did you give up on that job?"
That question again...
There was an eerie feeling in her stomach. Tiffany had taken this job opportunity out of her own volition, quite some time ago. Even if working for Widow was exhausting, she bore it out of sheer admiration. Tiffany sometimes thought about breaking the act.
No Tiff, keep your mouth shut! She'd hate me if I tell her the truth.
"I… am not at liberty to tell."
"It that so?"
Deja-vu.
There was an uncomfortable silence between them, at least for Tiffany. She did her best to hide it. Her hands reached out for a can of hair spray, but then hesitated.
"I don't hate you, Madame."
This whole conversation just stopped there. Widow didn't seem to react to the delayed comment. Either way, it felt like there was a heavy weight lifted off Tiffany's heart. She continued to work in silence for a while.
Widow stood up as soon as Tiffany finished up, blindsiding her assistant who was still lost in thought.
"Is my equipment ready?"
"Your… bodysuit is waiting for you at the door. The equipment and supplies department just sent a clearance for your weaponry; I will retrieve them after we're done."
"Thank you, Tiffany."
The blonde girl blinked a few times. She had expected to be berated for not having collected Widow's Kiss and the grappling hook yet, not to be thanked for it. That also had to be the first time her mistress called her by name. She was appropriately baffled.
"You're… welcome, Madame."
"After I return from the mission, we will have a talk about your function as my assistant."
A cold shiver ran down the little assistant's spine. Tiffany stiffened up and nodded at once.
"Yes, Madame!"
Tiffany rushed out of her mistress' domain before it would become clear how flustered she was. On her way out, she grabbed her clipboard and clung to it for dear life. She didn't slow down in the dreary, grey corridors of Talon headquarters, but soon enough she could feel her phone vibrating. Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks and took one hand off the clipboard pressed to her chest.
The display showed a text message.
Sagrada: "You look pale. What happened?"
The feeling of being watched had freaked her out in the first few days, but she sort of got used to it. Tiffany had given up trying to make sense of her employer. She held the phone close to write an answer.
Tiff: "She asked me again! I don't know how long I can keep this up!"
Sagrada: "What was your answer?"
Tiff: "Not at liberty to tell."
Sagrada: "Good. I'd hate to send you home if you were to let the circumstances of your employment slip."
Tiff: "I won't, I promise!"
Sagrada: "That's what I want to hear. Have you given her the medicine?"
Tiff: "Every day for months now."
Tiffany had been immensely relieved that the tablets weren't noticeable in sparkling wine and dissolved quickly. She didn't want to know what Widow would do with someone who slipped 'medicine' into her drinks.
Sagrada: "Is it working?"
She felt bad about doing this, but her employer insisted that this was good for Widow.
Tiff: "She has been loosening up a lot! She was really friendly today, even let me do her hair."
Tiffany couldn't help but smile.
Sagrada: "Just in time. We have to proceed. You do remember what I'm talking about?"
The small assistant shivered. Back then, agreeing to this was her only way in.
Tiff: "Do we have to? I really don't know about this anymore…"
Sagrada: "You do if you want to stay. I'll send you your detailed instructions shortly."
She wished somebody had prepared her for this moment. Emily felt small. She had never felt smaller in her life.
"So zis is your little friend, Lena? Such a beautiful maiden!"
Reinhardt was huge, even as he sat down next to her without his armor! It was true that the big German was positively adorable, yet he still managed to intimidate her by sheer size and volume of voice. Emily looked away to somewhere else, obviously flustered, and held tightly onto Cassy, her little camera bot.
"I am REINHARDT WILHELM, at your service!"
He held out one of his enormous hands in a gesture of greeting. Emily needed a moment and slowly stretched out her own hand. Reinhardt grinned over both ears and shook it 'gently'.
"C'mon, the lady is shy. Leave 'er be Reinhardt."
McCree was the first to come to Emily's rescue, since Lena seemed to be preoccupied with being absolutely fascinated by Emily's shyness. All eyes were on the red-haired girl, being the newcomer and all, so she was blushing particularly hard right now.
"O-Oh, it's okay! I'll just have to get used to… all the heroes! I'm such a big fan, haha…"
Emily found herself awkwardly laughing and fidgeting around. Reinhardt quickly chimed in with his own roaring laughter. This time, Emily didn't have any alcohol to calm herself down, as she did when they were meeting Angela and Fareeha. Instead, all she got was Lena squealing at her side, cuddling up to her.
"Isn't she cute? She's so cute! I love 'er so much!"
"Can somebody tell me again why we have a reporter on a top-secret mission?"
The grumbling came from Soldier 76 on the other side of the aircraft. It made Emily prop up like a startled meerkat. Angela however was quick to berate him.
"You forced the poor girl to sign a non-disclosure agreement and two other binding contracts not even an hour ago. Your memory must be getting worse."
"Yeah, you mean old bully!"
Hana had stood up from her seat and jammed her finger against his chest.
"She just wants to watch her girlfriend at work, so she doesn't have to worry that much, okay?! I mean, it's not like you would understand, you don't even have one!"
Soldier just brushed that finger off his chest and glared back at Hana.
"No respect for your elders, again! Having a journalist on board is a serious concern – not like someone as inexperienced as you would understand!"
"Oh yeah? Well, if I had your experience, I'd die a virgin!"
"Why you little…!"
The two of them continued to argue with each other while the other inhabitants of the aircraft tried their best to fade them out.
"So, what do you think?"
"H-Huh?"
Emily blinked over to Lena.
"I didn't expect you would be this out of it! You were so calm when we first met."
"O-Oh, I… I'm good at being brave one on one. Does that make sense?"
The redhead's unsteady smile was barely showing. Some of her face hid behind the green scarf that Lena had bought her as a present for Christmas.
"Not really, luv."
I suppose it wouldn't…
"Okay, uhm… You know, it's not me risking her hide on this, right? I… I'm a bit scared to be honest. For you."
That Lena could understand. She cuddled a bit closer while Emily bit her lower lip in embarrassment.
"D'aww, you don't need to worry Emi! We're professionals! That's why you're here, too, right? So you don't have to worry all the time when I'm out on a mission."
Lena rubbed her girlfriend's waist reassuringly.
"Yeah…"
"You just have to make sure that Cassy follows at a nice distance, so he doesn't get hurt. We can talk to each other as much as you want."
Emily looked at the earpiece that she held tightly in her hand and nodded slowly.
"Don't you worry, luv, everything will be fine!"
"…if you all do what you were trained to do! We're the best Talon has to offer."
Right now, squad commander Viktor Trginav was giving one of his rousing speeches. She had worked with the commander on countless missions and it showed. Listening to the Slovakian bored Widowmaker to all hell and back.
"It sure is crazy how fast we are adapting."
Amber eyes looked over to a woman of Asian descent that was sitting by her side. Most everyone else in the aircraft knew to keep their distance to Widowmaker. Not so Ruby. Ruby Yang was Widow's spotter and a captain in the reconnaissance department. She wore standard clothing with a black ponytail poking through her military cap.
The assassin pondered for a while whether she would entertain her colleague with an answer. Ultimately, she decided that anything was better than to keep listening to one of Viktor's speeches.
"The state of equipment couldn't stay the way it was; our useless friend Reaper lost half a dozen on his last mission to kill the monkey."
"Yeah… Overwatch kinda dictates the rules of the playing field. Now we have all this tech… Our very own versions of Valkyrie and Crusader gear!"
Widow sneered.
"Imitations."
Another inhabitant of the aircraft cleared her voice and interrupted their little conversation.
"This is no 'Valkyrie' equipment, Captain."
The words came from an older woman with short, red hair and an outright regal attitude, sitting right next to Ruby. She was dressed in a functional, yet beautifully sinister black outfit.
Moira addressed Widowmaker next.
"And you should know that my invention is certainly not an imitation, dear."
Ruby was visibly intimidated by the women's sharp demeanor. Widow's amber eyes narrowed with jealousy. She hadn't managed to solicit that emotion from Ruby in a long time.
"I could have sworn you mentioned a common prototype with the Valkyrie series, doctor."
Widow loved to get under the doctor's skin, watching how that self-absorbed woman's eyebrow would twitch. She couldn't stand her one bit.
"Yes yes, to be fair. My version however is much more suited for use on the battlefield than Doctor Ziegler's eh… let's call it 'work'."
Since Ruby was a good head shorter than the two of them, her and Widow could both glare at each other.
"Who do we have to thank for your presence, Doctor O'Deorain?"
"Me, myself and I."
"Any reason?"
"My reasons are my own, obviously."
Widow frowned.
Certainly not to watch over your 'favorite' patient?
Moira simply turned her head away, ending the conversation while probably pretending to listen to Trginav's rambling. The Irish woman had the curious ability to dominate every social interaction she was part of. This had been no exception.
Ruby certainly didn't seem to object. Widow looked towards her colleague out of the side of her eye. The small captain was fidgeting around like a scared bunny. Her spotter always was like this before a mission: Weak and nervous. She couldn't hurt a fly if she wanted to.
With one leisure motion, Widow pulled Ruby's cap down into her face.
"H-Hey!"
The spotter protested and struggled to retake ownership of her headwear.
"Stop worrying, petit sot. It's not like you will be anywhere near the fighting."
Emily was sitting alone in the aircraft. Since days were shorter in the winter, it was already dark outside, making the notebook on the table in front of her the only source of light. She was still sitting comfortably on the corner couch, especially with the blanket she cuddled herself into.
"Testing. Can you hear me?"
"Loud as can be! You alright, luv?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm just a bit nervous… is all."
"D'aww, I told you to stop worrying! Everything will be fine, you'll see!"
"If you say so…"
"Just keep calm. I miiight catch a bullet if you scream into my ear all of the sudden."
"… I won't do that!"
Just in case so she actually wouldn't, Emily muted herself in the comms whenever she wasn't talking. The heroes already started to set up their operation outside. Emily could watch them take position in the evacuated streets of Dorado. Cassy was her eyes for as long as the little robot kept his distance to avoid getting shot.
"Can you tell me what the mission is about, now?"
"Sure thing! You'll see it anyway and old grumpy can't exactly stop me now."
Jack actually stood within earshot. Emily could observe him being pretty much being grumpy about it.
"Talon will try to intercept the delivery of a big battery thingy to the new Lumerico power plant. But ATHENA found out about it, so that's why we're here!"
I wonder how ATHENA did that.
"I heard about that plant. It's fusion power, right? It's supposed to generate entirely clean energy for Mexico."
"Something like that. I guess Talon has interest in the dirty energy business!"
"So… it's an escort mission."
"Eh, kinda, but we call it 'payload'."
Emily blinked a few times and thought about that choice of name.
"I guess that's descriptive enough, huh."
"Exactly!"
The heroes got ready while they were talking and began advancing through the streets. She constantly lost track of McCree and Lena, as they were checking every side street, making sure the procession wouldn't be ambushed. Reinhardt, Mercy and Soldier were guarding the 'payload' closely while Hana guarded the rear.
That actually looks well thought out. They really are professionals! But aren't they expecting a little more than just a skirmish with a setup like this…?
Her observations only served to make her nervous again. Emily noticed that this part of Dorado was eerily quiet tonight.
"Don't forget to hang back, Cassy! I don't wanna lose you."
"Bwrauwr boo-wroop."
"Get sentimental after we're done, okay?"
Cassy had been through the Overwatch tech department at some point in the last few months. Emily met a certain mister Lindholm at the time, a stuck-up dwarf-like character. He helped Cassy get rid of the command overwrite her aunt Charlotte had commissioned from Volskaya Consumer Robotics. Curiously enough, the little camera bot had been acting strange afterwards, showing a worrisome obsession with birds.
Emily was thinking back to how she found out what Cassy was humming all the time to be Swedish folk songs, when a sudden explosion made the redhead jump in her seat. Jack's voice flared up in her earpiece.
"Hostiles on 2 o'clock!"
Some form of explosive had made direct contact with Reinhardt's shield. Flames were still licking at the blue energy wall, but the German held it stoically without giving an inch.
"Protect ze payload!"
A full-fledged firefight erupted. There seemed to be half a dozen hostiles in Talon gear square in their way, all with their own shield carrier and everything. Tracer and Jesse soon came out of the woodwork, harassing the enemies from the side, forcing a slow retreat.
"Advance! We have to get zis moving!"
While the payload was back on the move, a few pulse rounds and revolver shots found their marks. It soon turned out that the Talon side had their own healer, projecting beams of yellow and purple light from what seemed like modified medical gloves.
"Onwards my friends!"
Emily found herself quickly making some notes. She fully expected that Jack would've been the shot-caller, not Reinhardt! Goosebumps were crawling along her fangirl-skin, but it got worse. A loudly echoing rifle shot resounded in the streets below Cassy, making Emily jump and yelp in surprise. Luckily, she was still muted.
"Sniper!"
Hana had caught the shot in her defense matrix, still guarding the rear. The Korean sounded very professional for a change.
"Triangulating the shot… It's coming from the bell tower!"
A cold shiver ran down Emily's spine. She remembered tinkering on that one Dorado bell tower scene in her newest story, back before all of this began.
"You've got to be kidding me…"
Lena's voice flared up in the comms almost instantly.
"I'll take care of her!"
"Are you sure, Lena Kleines?!"
"Never been surer! I'll kick her butt!"
[Linebreak not working in this spot, please ignore.]
Widow cursed under her breath.
"Blocking that shot was impossible!"
"Maybe she has some kind of targeting software?"
Ruby sounded a lot more into it once she was in position, well hidden from the enemy.
"Whatever. I won't land any hits from this angle."
"Commander wanted you as distraction on the flank. There's value in pinning that mech down, I guess?"
Widow hesitated. She hated the thought of being relegated to harassment duty instead of actual assassination. Either way, orders were orders.
"Maybe you can pick off one of the flankers? One and a half o'clock from your position, the one with the hat in the alley."
"You're a mind reader."
Widow looked around for her new target while putting on a smirk. DVa would have a hard time protecting that angle, since the hat wearer wasn't standing anywhere near the payload.
"There you are…"
Her target was rolling around like an idiot right now. Nothing Widow couldn't adjust to. She took aim.
"Tracer entered the belltower! She's… she's fast!"
Widow arched both eyebrows. In the span of a second, she brought Widow's Kiss around and aimed at the stairwell. She could feel her heartbeat in that moment, waiting impatiently.
"She's at the top, taking aim at the stairs!"
"I love a warm welcome!"
Lena had donned a sarcastic smirk and raced up the stairs, blinking along the way. She was careful to keep one charge up for when she reached the top.
It paid off as soon as she hit the end of the stairs. Blinking in anticipation, she managed to narrowly escape the bullet that would've split her skull.
"Wow! Oi there to you, too!"
The greeting was met with another shot. Lena only managed to evade a second time because she closely observed Widow's trigger finger on Widow's Kiss.
"Wait a sec, luv!"
Widow looked over her rifle, but apparently wasn't inclined to lower it.
"What?"
"I want to talk."
The assassin's eyebrow twitched. She didn't look happy at all. On the contrary, Widow looked positively livid.
"Talk?"
"Yeah!"
"You hid for two months and now you want to talk, Chérie?"
"Well, I hadn't planned to meet you at all, but-"
Lena had to stop herself and hurriedly blink out of the way. Another shot went wide into the Mexican night sky.
"Wow! I get you're angry, but I'm here now, aren't I? Now if you could stop shooting at-"
"She's not responding! You have to do something!"
Another shot echoed through the night, accompanied by another light blue trail to the side.
"That was your last blink!"
To Lena, that wasn't news. She kept track of her own blink charges by necessity. This was insane. Lena had no killing intent. She hadn't even taken her weapons out! Lena wracked her brain as to how she could get Widow to listen.
For months, Tracer had avoided her. Reading Emily's stories about the blue-skinned assassin had been more exciting than actually being herself. Now that Tracer finally crawled back out of her hole, all she seemed to want was to 'talk'.
It frustrated Widow to no end.
"You really presume to tell me what to do?"
"C'mon, I haven't even drawn my guns!"
Widow snapped.
"That's the point!"
"Look, if you could just listen-"
It was quite enough. Widow enacted an exact amount of 5lb pressure on the trigger of Widow's Kiss. One of her 7.62x51mm calibers exited the chamber. Her victim realized the split second in which this was happening, but lacked the means to avoid the projectile. The bullet entered messily through the frontal lobe, punching a hole into the skull in the process. A propelling force intended to cover vast distances gave the bullet enough momentum to exit the head on the other side. Her empty-eyed victim's body lost its will to stand upright and slumped to the ground in a fountain of gore.
Widow blinked.
She was a bit surprised. In her condition, she would've expected some form of hesitation.
Emily shrieked with terror, as she was repulsed away from the image on her notebook.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod-
The red-haired girl clawed uselessly at the couch she was sitting on, as if she was trying to escape into it.
She killed her!
Her breathing was getting ragged. Emily started to hyperventilate and didn't have any spare thought left to reach for her inhalator.
Ohgod! I convinced her to do this! It's my fault! Ohgodohgodoh-
"Phew!"
Emily blinked a few times.
"Feels like chugging a few too much at the pub. Jesus…"
She quickly reached for her inhalator and tried to make sense of Lena's voice in her head. No, in her comm link.
"L-Lena…?"
"That's me!"
The corpse on Cassy's video feed was gone, too, she noticed, as she breathed heavily through her inhalator.
"But… you're dead!"
"Nope. I'm right outside!"
Emily turned around with urgency. Thick tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks either way after such a big shock. Lena did stand outside, jumping a few times and waving.
"God, you're alright! I… I thought I lost you!"
"D'aww, I'm perfectly fine! Juuust got a slight headache."
"But… how?!"
Lena stopped jumping and pointed at a wide area around herself.
"You see this huge rectangle of light? Uh, that's our… thingamajigga. Stuff… uh… ah! Spawn, yeah, spawn!"
Disbelief was written squarely across Emily's face.
"What's a… spawn?"
"Some kind of satellite nanotechnology stuff. Ridiculously expensive!"
Having explained that, Lena turned around to leave.
"Huh? H-Hey, wait!"
"Yes, luv?"
"You… want to tell me, that this… 'Spawn'… teleported your body here when you got shot and brought you back?"
"Ayup."
They blinked at each other a few times. The Brit smiled without a care in the world.
"You have to be kidding…"
"The wonders of modern medicine!"
Emily mulled this revelation over in her head, but it just made no sense to her.
"This is insane… If you can revert a bullet to the head, why… why is this not everywhere?"
"Like I said, ridiculously expensive! We only use it for missions."
"So… you're basically invincible?"
"Sure! It just sucks when the enemy is invincible, too. Which they are. Same technology."
"This could go on forever?"
"Nah, there's a time limit. We're only approved for more if we can clear a checkpoint in that time. Oh, and it only works on 6 people."
"That… sounds awfully arbitrary."
"Mom explained the specifics to me once, but I can't remember. Eh."
Lena shrugged and began to move back to the battlefield again.
"Hey, w-wait! You really want to go out again?! I mean, you just got shot!"
Lena playfully waved that comment away while leaving.
"I get shot at all the time. It's actually better this way than having a bullet removed physically. That shit hurts!"
"Doesn't it hurt anyway..?"
"Nah. It's a bit nauseating though."
"But… the trauma…?"
"I've got a stellar therapist!"
Poor Emily struggled to comprehend how anybody could be fine with this. Lena went out of sight soon enough, so the journalist had to rely on her camera bot again. She turned back to find that Cassy had already moved into position.
"Okay… so… yeah. Give me a moment… this is… too weird! Okay. Our approach didn't work. Last time she listened to me when I groveled a bit before her. Maybe-"
"No."
Emily blinked a few times, baffled.
"I love you Emi, but you're wrong on this. I was being stupid trying to talk to her in the first place. This isn't what Widow wants. This isn't me."
It took a moment before she could truly comprehend what Lena meant by this.
"You… you want to fight her?"
"I'll kick her butt so hard…"
"I… guess that's one way to get at her? But don't you need your pistols for that?"
There was a certain vengeful determination in Lena's voice, sending a shiver down her girlfriends' spine.
"Oh, I don't intend to make that bitch respawn."
Widow hadn't managed to accomplish much in the meantime.
Who does she think I am?!
That little escapade had completely taken her out of the zone. She was still furious at heart, keeping DVa busy with an unrelenting barrage of shots.
Ruby on the comm link interrupted her grinding rage.
"Looks like she wants another round."
"Good."
Widow turned around and aimed at the stairs with uncharacteristic impatience. She didn't have to wait long.
At first sight, the assassin applied pressure to the trigger, but only feigned the shot. It got the intended effect. Tracer blinked diagonally, more aggressive than before. She turned Widow's Kiss around and fired her real first shot with inhuman speed.
Suffer.
The bullet buried itself in her adversary's shoulder. The force of the impact made her target recoil. Widow had aimed for the body and misjudged just slightly. Blood that had just splattered across the floor returned the whence it came as a wild spectacle of blue color indicated that Tracer would recall.
Predictable.
Approximating the recall location was always one of her favorite challenges. Tracer reemerged, getting ready to go. Widow was faster. She aimed for the throat, to make the second 'death' of the day that much more painful, applied just enough pressure and…
Nothing.
Surprise washed over Widowmaker's face. With all the turmoil in her head, she hadn't realized that her magazine had run dry. A pit opened in her stomach.
Merde!
She lost her opening. A frantic attempt to reload wasn't enough. Tracer had already blinked ahead and kicked straight up, sending Widow's Kiss flying.
Déjà vu
She knew this move from months ago, when the two of them faced off in the Overwatch museum. Widow's amber eyes followed the weapon intently, as that was where Tracer would surely be.
That the rifle was useless without a magazine occurred Widow too late.
Something hit her hard in the head, hard enough to dislodge her visor. By the time she realized that her attention had been at the wrong place, Widow was already seeing stars from a square punch to the face. She stumbled backwards, stopped by the guardrail.
"Hah! She scores!"
Her head hurt and spun. Comprehending those words took her a few seconds. Especially since three Tracer's were talking to her all at once.
"This one's for breaking into my home!"
Tracer came after her, ready to throw the next punch. With still some wits about her, Widow narrowly slipped under the incoming right hook and hauled herself over the guardrail. Having jumped off the tower, she grappled mid-air to the top of a walkway above the streets, running alongside one of the many connected buildings.
The landing was not as gracious as she was used to, stumbling and disoriented as she was after being decked.
"I can't see you anymore, what is-"
Widow took off her damaged visor and threw it away, basically silencing Ruby. Her mind was racing, trying to think of a way out, but that was already too late. The blinking noise above her head announced Tracers pursuit. The British girl spun-around in mid-air, landing far more graciously in front of Widow than she had.
"Where are you going, luv? We're not even close to being done!"
The assassin quickly looked around. A high wall to the left, a sizeable drop to the right and Tracer blocking the straight path through. Nothing she couldn't escape from. Widow briefly pondered on making a run for it. Then she chuckled.
What a dreadfully boring thought.
"What's with the sudden change of heart, Chérie?"
"I just remembered how much I hate you!"
Widow smiled with amusement. She simply loved to tease Tracer into emotional outbursts.
"Cute."
"And since you didn't like me unarmed, I thought I'd bring your evil, bouncy butt down to my level!"
Widow had to fight back the cringe for a bit there.
"You didn't think that would give you an advantage, did you?"
"I just gotcha pretty good a few seconds ago. So yeah, works pretty well!"
That retort made Widow's eyebrow twitch. She put one foot in front of another and found the perfect balance, going into the only close-quarters combat stance she knew. Her voice grew soft and foreboding.
"Il y a les jours avec et les jours sans."
Tracer clearly had no idea what those French words were trying to say, but Widow's tone of voice gave her probably the wrong idea. A steady blush crept up on the little Brits cheeks.
" 's-scuse me?"
Widow sighed and rolled her amber eyes.
"Just… try again."
Emily had an impish smile on her face, as she watched the start of the fight. Since Cassy got it all on film, she wouldn't even have to distract herself by taking notes. She fully intended to re-watch the recording an unreasonable amount of times.
I'm so gonna use that 'evil, bouncy butt' line as my new ringtone!
The redhead was so excited; she could barely contain herself while cuddling into one of the couch pillows
A sudden alarm sound filled the quiet room. Emily got startled as all hell, being alone in the mission aircraft. She frantically looked around.
Then she remembered.
"Oh gosh, Popcorn's ready!"
Tracer recovered from being excessivelyflustered by some unintendedly erotic sounding French and charged Widow. A first right hook was expertly evaded. As was a second, and a third. It looked like Widow had herself fully under control, weaving out of impact zones with the agility of a dancer.
Her movements transitioned seamlessly from one of those evasions to ramming a rising fist into Tracer's gut.
"Urgh!"
The Brit stumbled backwards, holding onto her stomach, as if her it was about to empty itself frontally.
"Bit off more than you can chew, Chérie?"
"Jus'.. a sec, luv…"
It didn't look like Widow intended to wait. She advanced fast and whirled around for a violet heeled kick to Tracer's face. The Brit vanished before that could happen.
Not above using her toy, I see.
She re-emerged a short time later, 3 seconds into the past, still clutching to her stomach
"Oi, no… no fair!"
"You're the one saying that?"
"I didn't want-woah!"
Tracer couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, she narrowly dodged to the side as Widow's grappling hook shot past her head. She imagined what that metal claw would've done to her face and shot Widow a grim look.
"You really wanna play dirty, huh luv?"
"Do us both a favor and stop being naïve."
Lena's eyebrows narrowed. Then she made ready to blink.
"Oh, it's ON!"
[Linebreak not working in this spot, please ignore.]
Ever since Tracer amped up the stakes by integrating her temporal abilities, the fight evolved into something akin to an underground boxing match, only with more blue aftereffects and spurts of blood. Emily's eyes were glued to the notebook while feverishly munching on her bowl of popcorn.
It's crazy how much fun they're having! …in a gritty, 'I'll smash your face in'-way.
She was a bit scared, for both of them. Even if this was necessary for their relationship to develop.
Just then, another sudden sound startled Emily. It was dull and metallic. She stopped with her hand in the popcorn bowl and looked around.
What was that?
The sound repeated itself. Emily couldn't properly hear where it was coming from, so she took her headphones off that were transmitting Cassy's audio.
It's… coming from up top?
Emily slowly realized that somebody – or something – was on the ship. Each step represented another metallic sound. While the battle was still ongoing on the small screen of her notebook, she couldn't really pay attention. Emily grew scared for herself. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized: There was nowhere to hide in the aircraft.
Crap.
However, Emily had a technique that almost always, usually, sometimes worked in situations like this: She enacted the ancient ninja art of sitting still and shutting the fuck up.
A hatch opened on the ceiling, allowed a cool winter breeze to enter the aircraft. With a dull thud, the hatch closed again soon after the intruder entered, gracefully holding onto a ceiling ladder. The dark figure ultimately dropped down.
Unluckily for Emily, this intruder saw straight through her ancient ninja art. It took her all of three seconds to spot the redhead. As they looked at each other, Emily's eyes grew wide.
Crap! ...wait. That can't...
"Aunt Moira?!"
The Irish woman laughed cheerily.
"You remember your auntie, how nice of you."
Moira smirked at Emily's confused expression and approached with measured efficiency.
"What are you doing here? This is an Overwatch aircraft!"
"Yes, and they still build them as they used to…"
Moira looked up to the hatch for a second.
"…but I digress. I'm here for you."
"You… you are?"
Emily blinked a few times. She hadn't seen aunt Moira in what felt like forever.
"Yes. I heard that my little girl not only dates an Overwatch agent, but now also aspires to accompany them on missions. It was impossible to resist a visit."
A creeping suspicion made Emily wary for a moment.
"You know about… Don't tell me you helped aunt Charlotte mess with my camera bot?!"
Moira seemed to be confused. She had expected another kind of accusation, but her niece was probably too trusting to accuse her of more sinister intentions.
"Why ever would I do that? You know that I despise her side of the family." Moira wrinkled her nose. "I told your mother that she shouldn't marry into that mess."
"Don't talk about father's family like that…"
Emily nibbled on her lower lip, prompting a sigh from her aunt. She moved a crooked hand into Emily's red locks and tousled them about.
"Oh, I know I know. Your father is a nice man, and I wouldn't have such a cute niece otherwise."
Emily tried to get rid of the hand.
"Hey, stop treating me like a child!"
"Sorry, little one."
"What do you really want anyway?!"
The Irish women just took the liberty of sitting down beside her niece. One crooked hand went into Emily's bowl of popcorn to grab some. She then pointed at the screen.
"Why, what else than to enjoy the show."
It was much harder for Widow to keep up since she goaded her opponent into using her temporal powers. She tried to keep her left leg from shaking after accidentally hitting that darned metal thing on Tracer's chest with it. Still, she made that insolent brat pay for every advance. They both already took more hits than either of them was willing to count.
At this rate, I'll be done in a few minutes. I need to make some time to catch my breath.
"Satisfied already?"
Widow managed an infuriatingly arrogant smile, even though she was running out of breath. It had its intended effect, judging by Tracers fist clenching. The little Brit didn't fare any better herself though, trying to catch her breath while she most likely waited in a safe distance for her blinks to recharge.
"You wish! I'm not even close to done with you!"
Widow anticipated another round of attacks following Tracer's announcement, but they never came.
I need to find a way to disable that toy on her chest.
"You must really hate me."
"I... I don't."
Widow blinked.
"Excusez-moi?"
"I don't really hate you!"
In a way, they were both surprised. Widow arched an eyebrow, listening intently.
"I hate what you've become. What they've done to you. What you now think is right. I hate that you killed so many of our friends!"
"This again?"
There was another outburst out of the little Brit.
"Yes, this again! And deep down, you feel the same!"
This was shaping to be an overly amusing break in the action for Widow.
"Oh really, do I now?"
"Yes!"
"Why, I never knew! You must surely know me better than I do."
"I guess I do. I saw how sad you were when you visited your husband's grave."
Widow could feel herself tense up. An awkward pause set in.
"How?"
Tracer fidgeted around for a moment, as if she wanted to go easy on Widow.
"Well, it's… kind of all over the internet."
The beginnings of a blush warmed Widow's cheeks. She clenched her fists.
…I'll find and kill whoever did this.
"But that doesn't matter right now! What matters is that the old you would be horrified by what happened to herself, your husband and your friends! I know you have regrets!"
The assassin tried her hardest to make sense of things. Being seen by her arch rival at her most vulnerable state was a humiliating feeling. Worse, Tracer practically pitied her for it! She could feel her wrath return at being analyzed like a psychopath in a doctor's office. Tracer tried her best to appeal to that emotional part in Widow; the part that wasn't dead yet. In response, Widow's voice grew cold.
"You know nothing."
"I know that you want to feel something! You're having fun doing this with me, isn't that right?"
Widow inclined her head and glowered at Tracer.
"What's your point?"
"My point is – you can have it!"
Tracer stopped for a second. The heroine trembled with how vulnerable she was feeling.
"If you just stop the killing, I'll be fine with it! Come with me and we can tussle whenever you feel like it, however you want!"
There was a moment of baffled silence. Widow was shocked, so much so that her fists completely opened up. Tracer on the other hand looked like a kid that just gave you a present and now impatiently waited on how you liked it.
Widow shook her head and smirked. She broke her stance and walked over to the little Brit.
"Well, I've had quite enough of this."
"T-That's… that's a yes, right?"
"Oh of course…"
Tracer was beyond relieved, already releasing the tension in her body.
"…although I am a bit disappointed."
Widow was standing about two meters away and stopped with a heavy sigh.
"Don't worry luv, we can continue whenever you want!"
The French woman smirked.
"I know."
Widow raised her hand and shot her grappling hook at Lena's head a second time. The little Brit dodged out of harm's way with complete surprise. Her hazelnut eyes followed the steel rope, watching the hook grip onto a concrete wall. Tracer quickly turned back to Widow, but the assassin's body already collided with her before she could get back into the zone.
The force that pulled Widow to the grappling hook hauled her along for a ride. Shortly thereafter, Widow disengaged the hook and pushed Tracer away into a forward momentum.
Tracer's lithe body colliding with the wall looked particularly painful. She cried out in pain, sparks flew from the temporal contraption on her chest.
Widow on the other hand landed on her feet without much effort, a thoroughly satisfied smirk on her face. She walked over slowly as her opponent pitifully collapsed against the wall.
"I told you to stop being naïve, Chérie."
Emily felt a bit bad to be aroused by all that, given that her girlfriend was actively being beaten up.
"That was so evil!"
"She's always like that."
"Just like I imagined!"
"That's the first time I've seen her having fun during it though."
"She does love bullying Lena."
"Speaking of which, your girlfriend is getting back up."
Emily felt a sense of pride well in her chest. Even though she enjoyed Widow being evil, she just had to root for her personal hero.
"Of course she is! She's the best!"
"I can imagine, given she has that much stamina in bed…"
Moira looked over and wiggled with her eyebrows. Emily just coughed into her scarf and got a dumb smile. Then she blinked a few times, just now realizing that something about her aunt was off.
"Wait a second… aunt Moira?"
"Hmm?"
"Stop eating all the popcorn!"
Moira blinked back at her with a mouthful.
"Second of all, how come you know so much about Widowmaker?"
Her aunt swallowed and transitioned into a smirk.
"Oh, that. I'm obviously working for Talon now."
"You're working for… wow."
The two redheads looked at each other. Moira normally wasn't capable of getting a guilty conscience, but Emily was the grand exception in terms of guilt tripping.
"Hey, even the bad guys need doctors! They also paid better. And had better equipment. And wouldn't interfere with my work. And weren't imploding."
"Didn't you have a fiancé in Overwatch?"
Moira's mood soured almost instantly. Her voice went into a low grumble and she looked away, back to the screen.
"Let's not talk about her."
"Achoo!"
Angela sniffled a bit, still healing with both hands while pushing the payload.
"Wat is wrong Angie?"
Reinhardt wasn't capable of turning his head to look over his shoulder, so he just kept concentrating on the enemy. He sounded concerned, unlike Jack.
"I told you your gear is not fit for winter nights!"
"It's not the gear. I can manage, gentlemen."
Reinhardt laughed aloud.
"Somebody must be zinking about you then!"
DVa flew in at that moment and continued to slowly advance alongside the cart. She fired her pulse guns at the enemy shield in unison with Jack.
"Must be her cute Egyptian girlfriend! You do know what she's probably doing while thinking of you, right Mommy?"
The doctor went as red as a traffic light.
"H-Hana! Not now! Where's… where's Widowmaker?"
"Don't know! Lena forced her off the tower and followed."
"I do hope she's okay…"
Jack grunted.
"Miss Oxton can take care of herself."
Hana laughed.
"Yeah, she always beats you in practice!"
"You try to shoot a damn youngster going that fast!"
"Oh, I don't need to shoot her to beat her."
"What?"
Hana's grin became positively dirty.
"I know aaall her weak spots!"
"What in all hells does that even mean?"
"I can make her… uh… giggle."
Jack hadn't been so confused in a long time. Judging by Angie's ongoing blush, she was probably the only one getting the innuendo here. The doctor cleared her throat.
"Everyone concentrate! We should be able to close this out soon. The enemy healer seems to be missing. Let's… just hope Lena knows what she's doing."
Widow stumbled backwards from a punch to the face. Warm blood ran down from her forehead. They had been at it for ten minutes again. Stamina was beginning to fail both of them, each getting more sluggish as time went on, allowing for more openings and therefore more hits.
"Just… give up already!"
Every ounce of grace had left this fight some time ago. They were both panting audibly at this point, bodies bloodied and bruised. Widow's legs were shaking, and she barely held her stance. Tracer's temporal device was still spitting sparks, unable to be used for combat, yet still somehow holding her anchored to this time and space.
"You're so sweet… thinking this is over."
Widow managed another arrogant smile. She couldn't feel one side of her face anymore and her vision was beginning to blur, but she would be damned if she gave a single inch to this insolent brat.
"I offer you all you want... the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"Says the one demanding I surrender?"
They were both staring daggers into each other, neither willing to back down. That said, Tracer was stumbling by now, and every so often threatened to fall over. Her hair was more disheveled than usual, if that was even possible, and her outfit was torn in places where Widow's heels had made an impact.
Given all of that, she still somehow managed to ball her fists.
"If you won't listen, then I'll… I'll just have to pummel some sense into your dense head!"
Tracer pumped herself up with a vengeance. You could see the fire in her hazelnut eyes as she roared a battle cry. She forced her battered body to run at her foe in a last-ditch effort, pulling back her fist in preparation of a groundbreaking right hook.
"GHAAAH!"
Widow watched the little Brit running up to her and smiled gratefully. She waited for the right moment, spun around and rammed her violet heel into the side of the smaller woman's head.
Tracer unceremoniously crashed to the ground.
There was no sound other than Widow's exhausted breathing. Even the distant gunshots had stopped. Widow moved up to her beaten adversary and fell to her knees, no longer capable of supporting her own weight. The moon was out on this Mexican winter night, shining down on the two of them. A chilly breeze caressed them and eased the pain. She didn't know how much time went by until she finally said something. Her voice sounded just as strained as the rest of her body. It was a miracle that she had been able to fight as long as she did.
"You lost."
Tracer didn't look like she was capable of getting up anymore. Her voice was a bit more raspy than Widow's.
"Sure did."
"A spider doesn't negotiate with the fly."
A pair of hazelnut eyes looked up to her. There was an exhausted smile on Tracer's lips.
"Just… takes what she wants, right?"
Widow smiled back.
"Oui."
There was a small laugh coming from below, as Tracer realized Emily had been right all along. Maybe all she had to really do was give up and grovel a bit. Either way, it was finally over. Tracer's eyes were unfocused again and she tried her best not to run into a coughing fit.
"Gotta treat… ya to dinner. To celebrate, y'know?"
Widow was surprised for a moment, then shook her head. She couldn't get rid of the smile even if she tried. There was this odd feeling. It was weird and new and nice.
"Foolish girl…"
"I know this great… steakhouse on Park Lane… They got the best… crab cocktails."
"Crab cocktails? Really...?"
Widow giggled alongside the little Brit now. How could she not? Tracer wasn't sad or angry like usual after a loss. They were actually sharing a friendly moment for once after having fun together. It was serene.
"Whaddiya say, tomorrow at 6?"
Tracer somehow managed to raise a bruised hand on top of Widow's and began to gently caress it with her thumb. Widow quickly grew fond of the warm feeling.
Like an unbidden guest, Reapers words echoed in her mind.
"She'll be the end of you."
They had haunted her for months. Yet she couldn't help but fall for Tracer's smile. It felt like salvation.
Maybe the end won't be so bad.
"I'll be there."
At the same time, in a bustling canteen far, far away.
Sagrada: "Are the preparations finished?"
Tiff: "Yes. What's the giant Pachimari plush for...?"
Sombra snorted audibly and continued to tap away at her holographic chat window. She was sitting in the company canteen right now, a steaming coffee cup in front of her.
Sagrada: "Extra embarrassment."
Tiff: "Embarrassment? I thought we'd be helping her?!"
A frown replaced her smile. Tiffany's lack of humor was concerning.
I should've picked a more mischievous partner in crime. Speaking of which…
Something also quite concerning came up. Someone familiar was approaching Sombra from across the canteen.
Sagrada: "Oh, don't you worry your little head. Just stick to the plan."
She typed a bit faster to be done before her 'friend' arrived and then turned around to face him.
"Hammond, team mate, hombre! What's up?"
"DON'T ya 'Hammond' me, human!"
A small shiver ran down her spine.
When faced with a gorilla, don't show weakness!
Sombra had read that piece of advice on the internet. Actually doing that was an entirely different story.
"Ah, sorry, my fault! Doomfist of course, hombre. What's going on?"
Hammond reached her and shoved his finger into her face.
"YA promised me chaos for half o' the world! Humans were supposed ta die! Instead, we haven't moved A SINGLE FINGAH IN A WHOLE MONTH!"
Sombra tried to keep her composure while being assaulted with gorilla spit.
"W-Well, you see, there are preparations-"
"For months, we travel around so you can have a nice chat with some PRINCE or PRINCESS…"
The gorilla was grinding his teeth. He snapped and grabbed her tightly by the collar of her jacket, hard enough to make her wheeze for air.
"Ta hell with yer preparations!"
"N-Now now, we can talk about this!"
"NO! NO MORE TALKING! IF YOUURGH-"
Hammond was quite rudely interrupted by the sound of his own cracking skull. Sombra watched the insane gorilla's face go all weird like and squished together. Her now former partner in crime let go of her collar and slumped to the floor in front of her. Sombra coughed a few times and rubbed her throat after being released of that incredibly tight grip.
Reaper and Akande were contemplating over Hammond's twitching body.
"What is this?"
"It is… was… part of the team."
"Since when do we take monkeys?"
"He came with your weapon and wanted to kill the other monkey."
"Trouble in paradise."
"No big loss though."
"Maybe. It had quite the thick head."
Akande shook his hand, as if it was hurting a tiny bit from smashing the great ape's skull in.
"I hate gorillas."
"Who doesn't."
The big African cyborg knelt down to reclaim his trademark weapon, The Doomfist.
"Could you please see to it that this thing is being removed? I have to talk to our lovely Miss Colomar for a moment."
"Let's get this over with."
Sombra watched Reaper drag her former colleague out of the canteen while still catching her breath. He did that only after pumping the beast full of Hellfire Shotgun shells though, just to be sure. That ensured quite the commotion in the canteen, with many curious eyes watching the procedure. Half a minute later, the stench of bloody gorilla was the only thing left to remind someone of poor Hammond. Besides that, there was a tiny bit of awkwardness in the air.
"Thank you, señor. I don't know if PETA would approve, but that was, uh, just in time!"
Sombra rubbed the back of her head uneasily and laughed awkwardly. This was the first time Akande came to visit her after his long overdue prison break.
He's probably not mad at me, is he?
"I know of a few other things that would have been satisfying, given they had happened on schedule."
Mierda.
The real Doomfist now lorded over her with a grudge. She almost wished for Hammond back. Almost.
"...sorry señor."
"I trust that you had better things to do?"
Sombra straightened up and put her best car-sellers smile on.
"You might say so, if you hear about what I've been occupied with! It's concerning a… little project of mine."
Akande raised an eyebrow.
"Project?"
"I've spent the last few months preparing to devastate the English-speaking world."
The hulking African inclined his head, evaluating his subordinate with increasing interest upon what he had just heard.
"Universal chaos you say?"
Sombra grinned over both ears. She knew what her boss liked to hear. With a few swift motions, she summoned a bunch of pre-prepared holograms into the air. They presented news articles, among them even some from the Evening Standard.
"Of course, señor! Chaos leads to opportunities for Talon."
"That goes without saying. Even though I am more interested in testing the populace."
Doomfist studied the holograms intently, quickly catching up on the pattern of Sombra's plan. He arched an eyebrow in disbelief.
"That is both unnecessarily complicated and ingeniously evil."
Sombra giggled.
"Couldn't have said it any better myself, señor!"
He looked down to Sombra in a chiding manner.
"But didn't you make it too obvious already?"
"I found that the ordinary reader is surprisingly dense when it comes to identifying huge hints."
They both looked at the reader for a second, then back to each other.
"You should leave the wall breaking to me."
"Physically or metaphorically?"
"Both."
"Okay."
Sombra shrugged and smiled.
"So, where is the catch with your plan, Miss Colomar?"
"It's almost done. To finish up, I just need a tiiiny favor."
Doomfist inclined his head even further.
"That favor being?"
Sombra smiled mischievously at her boss, her eyes sparkling with pure evil.
[Linebreak not working in this spot, please ignore.]
Notes:
I hope this chapter wasn't too long in the end. There was just so much I wanted to fit in there!
I've tinkered on it for months. I hope you can forgive me the delay, dearest reader. 八(＾□＾*)
But tell me, was it worth the wait? ♡
P.S I'm not gonna translate that French. Let's all just imagine Widow said something reeeally dirty ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
[/rant The thing with the linebreaks not working in some spots is just stupid. I also have to write DVa without the dot here. It apparently thinks I'm trying to write a URL and deletes the name. So please, sign up for archiveofourown, because this site is utter scheiße. /rantover ¬.¬''']