Chapter 12
The Fanservice Awakens
A full moon brightened the scenery on this Dorado night. There was no sound apart from a whistling breeze every now and then.
"So…"
Lena didn't really pay attention to how long she had been lying here. Her body was still rigid, but the numbness was slowly fading. The cold soon replaced it. Through it all, Lena still felt amazed by the turn of events, for example that they were still holding hands. Widow gazed into the distance, as if contemplating.
"Hm?"
Lena squeezed her rivals hand.
"How long do you think until they find us?"
Widow thought for a second.
"Any moment."
"Bother…"
"Quite."
They chuckled lightly. Lena felt appropriately encouraged to continue her attempts at small talk.
"It's fucking freezing, isn't it?"
Widow thought about this, again, for a moment.
"I… don't even feel the cold."
The little Brit blinked a few times. She cocked her head and observed Widow for a while. Then she piped up with an epiphany.
"Ohh, that explains a lot."
Widow arched an eyebrow and looked down.
"It does?"
Lena grinned in return.
"Yeah!"
Upon seeing the French assassins puzzled look, Lena raised her hand off Widow's. It was a bit taxing, but she managed. With one finger and a goofy giggle, she poked into an exposed, blueish, squishy breast.
"I wondered why you wouldn't cover that up."
The covering fabric had probably been torn at some point during the fight. Widow stared at her incredulously. She even blushed a little.
"So… tell me if I got that wrong…"
Right now Mercy was caring for a thoroughly beat up Tracer.
"…she broke each of your fingers on that hand after agreeing on a date, yes?"
Lena was lying on the corner couch in the aircraft and used an arm to cover her eyes in shame. They only had dim lighting. According to the pilot, they were running low on power for the trip back home. It served to make the crew a bit sleepy, to the point that Jesse and old man Reinhardt were already half an hour into their siesta.
"Ugh… please don't ask."
The team had found Lena almost battered to death up on one of the walkways in Dorado. Angela looked at Emily, silently mouthing something amounting to 'You knew about this?'. The redhead was squirming about instead of answering and caressed Lena's head in her lap. That just prompted a frustrated sigh from the doctor. Jack didn't appear to be particularly happy about this development either.
"Does anybody else see anything wrong with this? I mean, collusion with the enemy? Seriously? Besides, does nobody remember what happened to Lacroix's last fiancé?"
They collectively ignored him. He was making a lot of sense, but Hana, Angela and Emily were all too busy secretly thinking about all the lewd things that would be following this arrangement.
"Well, I have no anesthetics on hand. Either we wait until we are at the base, or this will hurt. A lot."
"… I can handle it."
"Hana dear, would you be so kind and take my staff? Just aim it at her hand and press the button."
Daydreaming at Emily's side, Hana took a moment to realize the request, so Jack answered in her stead.
"Come on, she's not even remotely qualified to do that!"
"Don't be mean, Jack."
"Uh," Hana started, "I hate to agree with baldy over there, but he's got a point..."
Hana nibbled on her lower lip. She really hated to agree with 'baldy'.
"It's not that hard. I believe that you are adept at pointing and clicking, yes? If not, we could just wake Jesse. He'll do it."
"What?! No way! I'll do it 10 times better than captain pervert over there!"
Hana promptly stood up to take the Valkyrie staff while the doctor suppressed a smug grin.
"There are two buttons halfway down the staff. Just aim and press the top one."
The little Korean studied the medical tool up and down.
"Okay?"
Hana did as she was asked to, aimed and pressed the button. A familiar, yellow healing beam arced onto Lena's hand. She dragged it around a bit, but the connection just bent slightly.
"That's it, now just-"
Playing around too much, Hana managed to switch the connection to Mercy's head.
"…Hana…"
Emily and Lena snickered stupidly.
"Sorry Mom!"
Driven by the tired gaze of the doctor, Hana quickly fixed her aiming. As soon as it was back in the right spot, Mercy prepared to relocate the first broken finger.
"Happy thoughts now, sweetie."
With a sickening crunch, the finger was put back into place. Emily and Hana flinched along with Lena, who squeezed one eye shut, but the healing beam made it somewhat bearable. Lena laughed a little.
"That's… not so bad."
"I'm glad you're having fun. There's still four to go."
The same procedure followed with the next finger. Easily growing bored however, the gamer in Hana naturally played around a bit.
"What does this button do?", she asked.
Lena's next finger, to the dismay for everyone's eardrums, was put back into place under a vibrating, blue beam.
Widow tensed up while being treated. Moira raised an eyebrow.
"Is something wrong?"
"…I just felt a disturbance. As if a million voices focused into one suddenly cried out and were suddenly silenced."
The Irish physician studied her with sharp eyes, thoroughly intrigued. Then she smirked in her usual, infuriating manner.
"That's oddly specific. Is this about your new girlfriend?"
Widow quickly grew to regret opening her mouth.
Why did I say that?
Amber eyes looked the other way with annoyance. Widow made an effort to hiss her words quietly, so that the rest of the team wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.
"She's not my girlfriend."
The rest of the Talon team was a bit less beat up than she was and thus didn't suspect that anything had happened out of the ordinary. They knew that there had been a skirmish with agent Tracer and that was that. She was known to have those, after all. Only Moira suspected that something was off.
"Still, you have that kind of… connection to her, I reckon."
She thought it impossible, but Moira's smirk seemed to grow more infuriating by the second. Widow's eyebrow twitched and she turned her head even farther away than before.
"Ridiculous."
Featuring watch?v=P2K7kJH9hWA
Even though it was still December, the days started to become longer again, so the sun wasn't gone yet. The Christmas snow however had already melted, thanks to a few degrees celsius above the freezing point. There were more jackets than mantles out today. This included a girl wearing a jacket made of brown leather and tight, blue jeans to match.
"I'm a rebel just for kicks now!"
In an age where everything was wireless, white cables went up to her ears. The girl was striding along the walkway while a catchy, all-time classic pumped through those cables. People all over looked at her in curiosity for her retro style. The upbeat choice of song wasn't an accident; the girl tried to pump herself up to some courage.
"Might be over now, but I feel it still!"
It wasn't long until she reached her destination. Her jaw almost dropped as she saw her highlight of the day: The Lady waiting for her.
"We could fight a war for pea-"
The girl quickly unplugged her ears. Her date wore a white fur jacket, hinting at an extravagant, black evening dress underneath. She wore her hair in a loose ponytail, with strands of it falling by the side of a lovely face. There was a lot more color to the skin of her date than the girl remembered, probably as to not stand out too much. Only the Lady's cold demeanor betrayed the makeup-façade.
Come on, you can do it Lena!
All her preparation for this moment threatened to melt away into a nervous mess. The girl gathered her charm.
"Hey there, gorgeous!"
Some time went by. The Lady stood still in silence, crossing her arms expectantly.
"Wanna go in?"
They stared at each other for another moment.
Did I do… something wrong?
The girl could feel her nervousness creeping up her ears.
"What's wrong?"
Her date seemed to have waited for that question.
"You're late."
There was enough venom in those words to kill a mammoth.
Yikes! She makes it sound like a capital offense.
"Ah, yeah, guess I'm a few minutes off haha!"
"I've waited for twenty minutes."
"Woah! It's that late?"
The girl stopped to check her watch. The hands on the clock were telling a similar story.
"Good heavens…"
"What took you so long?"
The girl slowly looked up from the watch and rubbed the back of her head. She managed an awkward laugh. People were walking by, whispering about the squabbling pair, maybe even recognizing the girl.
"Ah, haha! I… totally didn't know what to wear. Must've taken me longer than I noticed. Stupid, right?"
Amber eyes glowered at her for an endlessly torturous moment.
"Oui."
A sigh of frustration followed. Despite herself, the Lady went up to the girl, lifting her arm slightly in anticipation. The girl blinked in confusion.
"Are you going to let me stand here even longer?"
The girl visibly didn't understand what was expected of her. Then it clicked.
"Oh! Oh gee, of course not! Sorry!"
With a slight blush, she linked arms with her date. They were really close now all of the sudden, a pair for everyone to see, bringing the girl much excitement and a tiny bit of anxiety. After she steadied her breath, they finally went inside.
"You really think it'll work out between the two?"
Her aunt Moira didn't sound very convinced.
"I can gauge Lena pretty well. She'll come around, but… well, you know Widow better than I do."
They were walking along the Overwatch campus and Emily, sighing heavily, looked like she lost some precious hours of sleep tonight.
"You're her doctor, right? What do you think?"
Some people recognized Moira as they were chatting along, but nobody lifted a finger against her. While her affiliation with Talon was rumored, she was more widely known as minister of genetics for the science metropolis of Oasis in Iraq.
"Widow is unfeeling. I'm surprised that your plan even got this far."
"You know that's not true…"
Moira studied her niece out of the corner of her right, sharp eye.
"Let me rephrase that: She isn't supposed to feel anything apart from the joy of popping heads. If she'd be interested in me, I'd be rather worried for my life."
Moira developed an amused smile and continued.
"Your girlfriend is being suicidal, letting her wait like that."
Emily chewed on her lower lip for a second.
"I told Lena to hurry, but she was such a giddy mess! I mean it was cute, but ugh!"
"Too long in the bathroom?"
"No, we couldn't decide what she should wear."
"And a leather jacket was the answer? Oh dear."
"You don't think she'll like it…?"
It was painfully obvious that Emily had been the decider in the debate of what to wear. Moira contemplated on how to let her niece down as gently as possible while they were slowly walking down a path to one of the dormitories.
"She'll probably decide to be in charge of your girlfriend's wardrobe, given this goes any further."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"The emphasis was on 'probably'. The other outcomes are worse. She's a sadist after all."
"Sadist?"
Emily tried to look worried and failed. She was much too curious about this, given her hobby.
"Oh, absolutely. Ask her assistant. Somebody suggested we hire one to absorb her ill temper. That poor girl now constantly runs around the compound on some fools errant. "
"Wow, that sounds awful! Who would be crazy enough to do such a job?"
…I want that job.
Emily laughed awkwardly.
"Surprisingly, the girl seems to enjoy it."
"A masochist, huh? That's not really Lena's thing, though…"
"Widow is probably about to drive your girlfriend absolutely mad. That shouldn't surprise you though, given her last two visits at your residence."
"Oh, I gave Lena some tips in case that happens…"
A plane was flying overhead, briefly interrupting their conversation. Emily took her phone out for that moment and unlocked the screen.
Still no connection… Is that thing broken?
"I completely forgot to ask, Emily dear…"
"Huh?"
"What are you going to do about your inheritance?"
Emily quickly tucked her phone away again. She stared quizzically at her aunt.
"Inheritance? Did something happen to Mum and Dad?"
"Heavens, of course not! Wait, you don't know?"
"Don't know what?"
Emily was getting irritated, right as they reached their destination. The dormitory doorway opened before them, producing a doctor and her patient. It looked like Hana was being chewed out at this very moment.
"…don't hunch over like that while playing anymore. Your back pain will just get worse with age."
"'Yeah yeah…"
As the four of them ran into each other, all the conversations stopped in mild surprise. Hana was particularly eager to get out of her predicament, so her surprise wore off the quickest.
"Emi, there you are!"
She went in for a hug with Emily.
"Hi Hana! Sorry, we ran a bit late."
"Don't be sorry, I had Mom over anyway."
Emily returned the hug briefly. It was hard to get used to all the cute heroes she was privy to enjoying these past months. At least she was getting better at suppressing her fangirl tendencies.
"Did something happen?"
Hana's face turned sour for a moment.
"You ever got, like, a really awful cramp?"
"Just regularly awful ones I think."
"Mine just now was super awful! I couldn't even get out of bed!"
"Yikes. So you called Mum over to help?"
"Yup! Who's your friend by the way?"
Looking to their side, they just now noticed Moira and Angela staring at each other intently. Invisible lightning sparked between their eyes.
"Uh, that's… my aunt. I… I think we should go in?"
Hana apparently agreed, as she just tucked Emily into the dormitory by pulling her sleeve. The main door closed behind them. They didn't look back and hurried up the stairs. Hana shivered a bit.
"Geez, it looked like they'd be at each other's throats any second now!"
"…and not in the romantic kinda way."
"Ah whatever. Let's just go up, I got some kickass games prepared for us!"
"Awesome!"
Emily wasn't really the type to play many video games, but who wouldn't like to play with Hana?
Tap.
They were sitting around for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for their food.
Tap.
Time went by in an agonizing manner as Widow's finger tapped on the table in a slow rhythm.
Tap.
Trying to strike a conversation hadn't been very successful until now.
Tap.
Widow was less than accommodating, obviously offended by something.
"I said I'm sorry, okay?"
Tap.
Widow merely graced her with a stinging gaze.
"I really didn't mean to let you wait."
Tap.
"Also, if I had known you wanted a romantic entrance like that, I would've worn my blazer instead of the jacket."
Tap.
"Oh and I would've gotten flowers! I should've gotten flowers…"
Tap.
Widow didn't seem impressed, swirling around her glass of Le Verssant Grenache.
"Yeah, you're right. That would've been a bit much for a steakhouse…"
Tap.
"Anyway. I'm really happy that you came out here, you know?"
The tapping of the finger stopped.
"I was kinda surprised that you would accept in the first place."
Tap.
"Positively surprised!"
The tapping stopped again. Tracer tried her brightest smile and the oldest compliment in the book.
"You look really beautiful today, you know that luv?"
And it was true. Removing the fur jacket revealed that the black evening dress left Widow's shoulders and upper back completely bare for Lena's eyes. Widow on the other hand looked elsewhere. She was in the process of formulating a fiery retort when the waiter arrived with their plates, announcing their dishes.
"The Snake River Wagyu for the lady and Iberico Beef, dry aged for 21 days for mademoiselle."
"Thanks!"
"Merci."
Normally Lena would've just ordered a burger, but Emily had cautioned her not to. It wouldn't be chic, or something like that. As a result, they both got probably the most expensive pieces of meat on the menu. Right now the delicious looking beefsteak partly made up for her probably being flat broke after this.
"Bon appetit!", Lena exclaimed joyfully, putting the pronunciation in all the wrong places.
Widow just grimaced slightly as her language got butchered.
They were busy staring holes into each other's heads.
"What are you doing here?"
Angela was the first to talk, her voice quietly sizzling. Moira on the other hand had an aloft tone of voice, only betrayed by her narrowed, sharp eyes.
"Why, I am visiting my niece."
"You really have the gall to show your face on Overwatch property?"
"I'm not committing a crime, am I?"
One of the doctor's eyes twitched.
"You have committed enough for a lifetime."
Moira's sharp grin grew wide.
"Ah, but you see, all I ever did was help people. We physicians are not responsible for what happens afterwards."
Angela narrowed her eyes further.
"That convenience does not extend to your enhancement operations."
"But it does. How else would we further mankind than by experimenting on enhancements?"
Angela balled her fists. Her voice was steadily increasing in volume.
"Advancing, progressing, pushing boundaries. That's all you ever cared about!"
Moira frowned.
"The state of you, my dear."
Angela glowered at the Irish woman. She steadied herself and swallowed some of the bile she was thinking about. They were in a public setting after all.
"You haven't changed one bit. Always composed, devoid of any emotion other than mild amusement and contempt."
Moira suppressed a smirk.
And it's absolutely driving you wild.
"It's a way to live by, if you ask me."
"And how I regret ever living with you."
"Ever since you found out that you're into women half your age?"
Her words were clearly intended to sting. Angela drove one of her hands into her hair, visibly frustrated.
"Ever since I found out how much of an asshole you are."
"How about you see me as a character shaping exercise?"
"Are you serious?"
"Of course."
Angela looked at her like she's crazy.
"Oh, don't look at me like that."
"It's very hard not to."
"Remember how you would interrupt our design sessions for the Valkyrie series with your silly consultation hours?"
"They weren't silly… They were important for the patients. What's your point anyways?"
"You were always stuck helping little people, when your genius could've benefitted humanity as a whole! Think of that metal boy of yours: We could've performed even more miracles together, if it wasn't for all those distractions."
The doctor looked away without really denying the point, but still highly annoyed. It sounded like this wasn't the first time this argument was taking place. Angela was intent on not going further into this, so she quickly changed the topic.
"What are you planning to use your niece for?"
Moira looked thoroughly surprised, yet still in a way where it's impossible to tell if she's sincere or not.
"Me? Using sweet Emily?"
Angela grew annoyed and went back to glowering at Moira.
"Don't play dumb. Somebody's been messing with her family and now she's the heir apparent."
Moira frowned.
"They're my family, too, you know."
Angela laughed, crossing her arms.
"Your family once removed."
"True, but the point still stands."
"Since when did you care about family at all anyway?"
Moira gave her a sour look.
"I've always cared about sweet Emily."
Angela furrowed her eyebrows and grew exceedingly angry.
"Then maybe you should stop being blind about what your organization wants to do to her!"
She had enough. Angela rushed down the pathway, past her former fiancé, not missing the chance to half-tackle into her shoulder, hard. Moira blinked a few times, staring after her. The Irish woman visibly deflated, the strain of their conversation finally making it's mark. Her thoughts were with Angela for a little while longer.
"Still after all these years, what a shame", Moira mumbled. "We were complimenting each other so well."
Then she shrugged and grinned, turning to leave the campus.
"Eh. Who needs a conscience anyway?"
"It's awesome here, isn't it?"
Widow just now put a rather small piece of beef via fork into her mouth. She blinked once, then twice. Tracer smiled at her, radiating like a small sun in an almost blinding fashion. Widow took her time, finishing the small piece of meat before answering. She inwardly agreed that this establishment had a rustic charm to it.
"It's acceptable."
"How's your beef?"
Widow thought about how to go about this while Tracer excitedly waited for an answer. In truth, she used to be unable to taste much at all. She was spoiled by Reaper's good cooking ever since her senses grew more vibrant again, but he couldn't compare to expertly prepared Iberian livestock.
"It's… acceptable."
Tracer looked like somebody hit her with a baseball bat, hearing that mediocre assessment of something that would probably cost her a relative fortune.
"G-Great, I'm relieved you like it."
Cute.
The word just came to mind. It was a tiny bit irritating, but Widow smirked nonetheless.
"Thank you for the invitation."
Lena instantly brightened up in surprise.
"Oh, no problem luv!"
She seemed starved for an actual conversation. There also seemed to be questions bubbling underneath the surface, with Lena barely stemming the flood.
"Say, why did you accept, if you don't mind a girl askin'?"
Widow took a moment to think about her answer, finishing another rather small piece of meat in the meanwhile.
"I came because of the promise you made to me."
"I promised something?"
"Oui."
Lena blinked a few times. It dawned on her that she was being baited with the proverbial fishing pole.
"Well then! Wanna jog my memory, luv?"
A bit weary, Lena took another bite of her beefsteak while Widow smirked at her with amusement.
"You said you would be there whenever I might be in need of a… target."
Lena choked on her food. Her eating utensils were placed back on the table and she quickly tried solving the issue with the guzzling of wine. In the meanwhile, Widow patiently waited for her date to finish choking.
"I wasn't quite talking about being target practice! I meant more like… when you stop killing people, the two of us could be spending more time together. Like right now?"
The words came out quiet, so that the other guests around them couldn't follow their conversation. Widow's gaze quickly grew bored. She scowled with disappointment and averted her eyes.
"You lied."
"I didn't!"
The French woman sighed for effect.
"It was foolish of me to trust you."
"Come on! You barely tried! Isn't this fun?"
Amber eyes rolled around.
"So. Much. Fun."
She was indeed having fun right now, even if she didn't show it. It was just too amusing, watching the frustration grow on her rivals face.
Just a bit further…
"Well… okay. We could go to a nightclub afterwards. Dancing will be fun! I know a few-"
"Not interested."
Lena blinked a few times, baffled.
"Wha-...?"
"Are you deaf? I said: I am not interested."
The little Brit was at the brink of losing her cool. It became harder to feign annoyance for Widow, for goading Lena was a lot more enjoyable than she had expected. Her amber eyes stared intently at the little Brit. She already developed plans of what to use as a weapon if this escalated into conflict. Her mind settled on the cutlery.
To her surprise, Lena suddenly simmered down.
Oh?
She let out a heavy sigh of resignation and put her attention back on the steak.
"What a shame."
A few moments passed before Widow followed suit in turning her attention back to the meal. She was a bit blindsided at how out of character Lena had been just now. She eyed her curiously every now and then, until the little Brit continued.
"I was looking forward to have a go with a skilled dancer like you."
Widow narrowed her eyes as she brought another piece of meat to her lips. While chewing, she tried to gauge Lena for ill intent, but couldn't find any.
The little fool probably thinks she can woo me.
Even though she growled in her thoughts, Widow had grown weak to compliments over time. They chipped at her armor more than they used to.
"Understandable for an amateur. Of course, you would only be in my way."
"So… you're saying you can't do it?"
Lena looked up with honest interest and just a tiny bit of a smirk on the side.
"I can't do what?"
"You're not skilled enough to compensate for dancing with a mere amateur like me."
Widow's eyebrow twitched.
"Tch, this is the most ridiculous-"
"So you can't do it."
They stared at each other.
Widow studied the giant crystal chandelier above the dancefloor, trying to figure out how she was tricked into coming here. Or why this felt so familiar. Lena stood next to her, wearing a purple button-up shirt with the topmost three open, slightly out of breath from the way Widow had spun her about on the dancefloor. She leaned back against the bar, resting her arms on it.
"You're really awesome at this!"
"And you are not."
"Hey hey, cut me some slack! I was good at keeping up, wasn't I?"
"I lead you on more than anything. We'll have to work on your performance, chérie."
Widow regretted her words a tiny bit as she saw Lena's beaming smile out of the corner of her eye.
"You're enjoying this!"
"Terribly."
Her sarcastic tone was intentionally misleading. The DJ was playing a particularly catchy tune of smooth jazz right now and she had a fresh glass of champagne in her hand, so not all was bad. The nightclub Lena had walked her to was more than a little elegant; it was in fact exactly her style of extravagant.
"But you don't dislike it, do you?"
The prying was a bit annoying, but Widow wasn't feeling like lying anymore.
"I don't dislike it, no."
"What do you normally do with your free time?"
Lena sounded perfectly casual and interested. It was a weird feeling, just talking without any tension.
"Practice."
"Just practice?"
"A glass of champagne in the evening."
"That's it?"
Widow hesitated for moment.
"I also like to read."
"Reading, huh? What are you reading right now?"
"…a romance."
"Reeeally now."
Lena slowly raised her head curiously as Widow stifled a cough. The amount of alcohol today helped make her cheeks fluster. Lena attempted to continue the conversation, but Widow was faster.
"DON'T ask. And no, I'm not going to let you borrow it."
"Hey hey, no problem luv! I just wanna know more about you. You can tell me when you feel like it."
Widow took a large sip from her glass. She wanted to give a fiery retort, but found a surprising lack of vigor on her part. The response was partly mumbled instead.
"Don't count on it."
Lena just smiled.
"That's fine. You know, we can do this more often, if you like. I don't mind spending time-"
Widow interrupted her sharply.
"Shut up already. You're insufferable…"
Without much fanfare, she emptied her glass, put it back on the counter and pushed herself away from it, into the direction of the dance floor. She took Lena by the hand while doing so, forcibly dragging her along for another round of 'practice'.
Lena quickly finished her own drink and failed to put it on the counter in time. The glass shattered on the floor instead, drowned out by the noise of the night club and Lena's giggles.
Emily threw her arms into the air, enormously relieved.
"Woohoo!"
She and Hana were sitting on the floor, leaning against Hana's couch and playing some kind of anime brawler game against one another. A little girl in a cute outfit was jumping up and down, celebrating victory on top of the body of a big, burly and beaten sumo ringer. Judging by the bars at the top, the girl won by a sliver of health.
"Sheesh, you're improving way too fast. Rematch! I want a rematch!"
Hana's eye twitched with irritation. Emily pondered on poking a bit more into the wound, but decided against it.
"You're still way better than me, though~"
"You're just saying that so I'll go easy on you!"
The little Korean laughed happily and developed a big smile. Emily secretly rolled with her eyes.
She's still a total sucker for compliments.
The announcer in the game began to count down the timer for the next game.
"So, any progress on your story yet, Hana?"
"Nah! I just… can't find my muse, y'know? How's it going with you, Miji?"
"You don't have to use my screen name…"
"Round 2"
"Fight!"
The sumo ringer deftly closed the distance and slapped the little anime girl around, though the retort came quickly. Given her occupation, Emily didn't have much trouble talking while concentrating on the game, so she continued.
"There wasn't much… time over Christmas, but I'll manage. I never knew you needed something like a muse though. Usually you're just a bubbly whirlpool of cute ideas, aren't you?"
Hana suddenly fidgeted uncomfortably. The little girl on the screen used the chance to grab the big sumo ringer and enact a special attack that sent him flying. The little Korean mumbled a curse under her breath before she continued.
"Well… I'm kinda stumped since Sagrada stopped talking to me."
"Sagrada? Isn't she the girl who always reviews my chapters?"
"You say 'review', but it's reeeally more emotional abuse, isn't it…"
"Well, she's a bit up front with how she dislikes my writing style, but there's plenty of constructive criticism to draw out of that one."
"Like?"
"Like that one time I substituted Doomfist with a sentient, humanity-hating giraffe. I mean, there were hints of such a character in the lore, but what was I thinking?"
"Hey, I'm still sad that you killed Harold the giraffe off!"
"Yeah, that was his name… You're in the minority there, Hana."
The sumo ringer was making a goofy victory dance right now after flooring the little anime girl. She was lying on the floor, catching her breath, before getting back up for the last bout.
"Anyways, she's pretty gone right now."
"Any idea why?"
"Round 3"
"Fight!"
"Well, she was fed up with you being the most popular, like usual. It's… kinda weird, but I think she's planning something."
Emily suddenly had a bad feeling, as if some things began to add up, but it just didn't click in her head yet. She sighed.
"Planning something, huh? I hope she doesn't do something stupid, like mess with my job or Lena… If I had the choice, she could be the most popular no problem."
"You're a saint, Miji, you know that?"
The redhead nibbled on her lower lip while using a particularly nasty hit combo on the sumo ringer that had her pink girl assault him with magic missiles.
"Nah, I'm just reacting like any decent person would."
Hana, exasperated from Emily's maneuvers, began trying harder, but her counterattack was thwarted.
"How did you block that?!"
"Skill!"
Emily giggled. She had adopted the proper application of that word a few weeks ago while playing with Hana. The constant firework of graphical effects almost came to its conclusion with both fighters health bars on a mere sliver of health.
„Let them eat cake."
Just as the two fighters were about to clash, Emily's phone started ringing. Widow's voice brought a shiver to both their spines, being fans and all. She paused the game quickly and accepted the call.
"I… don't even feel the co-"
"Yes?"
Hana watched her curiously while trying to figure out her move after they would be unpausing.
"Yes? … What are you … They WHAT? And you're okay?"
Hana practically fell over as Emily just spontaneously began shouting
"You have to be kidding … No need, I'm on my way … I'll hurry, give me ten minutes please."
That's where Emily quit the call and stood up, reaching for her jacket on Hana's bed. The little Korean was visibly flabbergasted that their game would have to be postponed.
"You're going?"
"Yes, something came up…"
"Something? What something? Come on, at least tell me what it is!"
Emily sighed heavily, already reaching for the door handle of the small room.
"No can do, Hana, sorry. You can probably read about it tomorrow in the newspaper though."
About fifteen minutes earlier
The DJ was playing an exotic song, slowly picking up in pace every now and then. Lena was starting to get the hang of it, yet still tripped up once in a while when she was sent to do a slightly more complicated move like a pirouette. They talked as quietly as they could and as loud as they needed to be to not get drowned out from the club noises.
"Don't tense up."
"Sorrey!"
"Just follow my lead."
They were the stars of the dancefloor. Most other pairs on the floor were barely adapt at dancing, giving them sidelong glances, admiring their comparably intricate performance. Some even recognized Tracer, judging from the conversation parts that were coherent through the noise. Lena got increasingly bothered by that fact, as it brought gossip. Everybody knew that Tracer had a new girlfriend – and the blue haired vixen certainly wasn't it.
"I said: Stop tensing up!"
Widow's words were hissed as Lena almost tripped again.
"I'm trying, luv!", Lena answered breathlessly.
"Well, try harder", Widow growled back.
The song eventually transitioned seamlessly into another one, much slower and romantic than the last. At that point Widow changed her pattern accordingly and drew Lena in close, lead with one hand and held her by the waist with the other. Their faces were mere inches apart. Lena gasped slightly and adjusted as well.
"Am I doing this right?"
"A little slower. Relax."
Despite their little scuffle, the atmosphere turned intimate. They practically had to stare at each other up close. Time went by without a mistake by Lena, as there wasn't much to be doing wrong, just slowly waltzing with each other, giving her a much needed breather.
"I'm sorry for taking a while to get it."
Lena laughed a bit awkwardly while Widow didn't know what to with her partners seemingly endless supply of optimism.
"… don't worry about it."
They danced in silents for a few moments.
"Hey…"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for teaching me."
Widow was about to answer, when the déjà vu hit her. She finally understood why this was feeling familiar.
This is one of her stories, isn't it?
The realization irritated her somewhat, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. On the contrary, it felt a bit exciting.
Sure, the steak house was a luxurious restaurant and our conversation went differently, but everything else fits, even up to the clothes. She set this up, didn't she?
Widow knew the story by heart, knew what her answer would be. Widow hesitated to conform to this charade, but the artist in her craved to play the part. So she smiled deviously.
"If we're going to do this more often, you have to be trained… thoroughly."
The liberal use of the word 'training' gave Lena a slight shiver, but she was also just glad that Widow grew less distant. Being the daring hero she was, she left her rivals lead and instead held her with both hands by the slender waist.
"I'm looking forward to doing this with you a lot, luv."
A smirk developed on her lips as her date actually competed for initiative. Widow tried to remember what her part at this point in the story had been. A now free hand went up to Lena's chin and adjusted it upwards ever so slightly. Her voice was but a purr.
"Don't think about next time, chérie."
Lena gasped quietly, her cheeks flushed with color. The Tracer in the story had made a feisty comeback, but this Lena was too drunk and horny to be of any use. No matter, thought Widow.
"I'm not finished with you yet."
Curiosity about how it might feel, to re-enact the scene, overwhelmed her. She approached her prey with expertly tease, reveling in the feeling of warm breath against her lips, until they found each other. The feeling was more grandious than Widow remembered. It pulled her in, just for a little while longer. Gradually, fireworks went off in her chest. Her hand wandered downwards to her partners waist, still slowly dancing with her to the music.
They parted time and again to catch their breath. Each time they agreed, silently staring into each others eyes, that neither wanted this moment to pass.
Like almost always, Anderson was feeling tired. It was a decent date, up until now. The dinner had been great. If things would continue the way they were, the night would be even better. Given that he didn't just fall asleep at some point.
"So, Thorvi, you work for a newspaper? Like, which one?"
Anderson drank generously from his cocktail before answering. He and his date , somebody he would describe as a 'cute blonde', were leaning against the bar, facing towards each other.
"The Evening Standard. You know it, Jess?"
"Isn't that, like, totally old-school?"
Jessica had a carefully amused look. It was a half-hearted attempt not to offend.
"Sure. Working there has a… certain charm to it. What do you do for work?"
"Oh, I'm, like, totally into neuroscience! Brain waves and stuff."
"You're-"
Jessica kept talking. She was good at that. While she did that, she kept looking around the room now and again.
"I'm a certified neurologist! I work in neurosurgery at King's Cross. If you ever find yourself with Parkinson or, like, multiple sclerosis, I'll probably be your doc, haha! So, like, do you meet any celebritiiies at work?"
Thorvald blinked a few times. He looked at his drink suspiciously for a second.
"Oh… Yeah, tons of 'em."
Jessica leaned a bit into him with bubbling curiosity.
"Wow! Like, who?"
He quickly found his balance again and smiled handsomely. As reporter, Thorvald knew his way around gossip girls. They were always the easiest to impress.
"You know, just the other day we had Tracer in for an interview. The Tracer. Incredibly charming girl."
"Really?! Wow! Can you introduce us, Thorvi?!"
The blonde girl was practically blinding him with her star-struck gaze.
"I could call in some favors from a colleague, haha. Not that I'm saying our reporters are crazy popular, but one of my good fr- erm, that female colleague actually goes out with her."
Jessica looked at him with thinly veiled disgust.
"Whoa. That Tracer's, like, not very faithful then, is she?"
Thorvald raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"How come?"
"She's, like, totally making out over there. That's not your colleague, is it?"
His eyes followed where Jessica was pointing him to. Right there smack dab in the middle of the dance floor, Tracer was unmistakably making out with a very extravagant looking, blue haired woman while slow-dancing to a romantic song. They both seemed to be very into it.
"That girl looks way too high society. Like, no offense."
"Yeah, that's… not my colleague." She's probably home alone right now.
Normally, Thorvald was a very laid back kind of man. He was wide awake right now, quickly losing his cool.
"…excuse me for second."
"Hey Thorvi, you're not gonna…"
Driven by impulse and anger, he quickly left Jessica at the bar and pushed through the other club guests, trying to get to the center of the dance floor. As he reached it, he gripped tightly onto Lena's shoulder and pulled her back, forcefully. Gasps could be heard through the song's sound veil from curious onlookers all around them. Lena stared at him with flushed cheeks, blinking wildly, thoroughly confused as to what was going on.
"Thorvald? What-"
Lena seemed to recognize him from the few times they talked. It also seemed to dawn on her that this was bad.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"Wait, I can explain! Emi-"
He couldn't even hear her finish the sentence. Something decked him hard. He stumbled backwards and ultimately fell onto the dance floor like a log. He saw stars. In the distance, he heard Jessica shriek something with 'like' in it.
Lena watched in disbelieve as the handsome half-Norwegian hit the parquet.
"Why-..Why'd you hit him?!"
She looked back to Widow. To her surprise the French lady seemed to be slightly out of breath and thoroughly flustered.
"Ce chien insolent le méritait! He put his hands on you, why didn't you do it yourself?!"
Lena looked at her, exasperated. A cool and hateful demeanor returned to Widowmaker. She looked at the source of disruption in disgust, her hands clenched into fists. She moved towards him.
"He… he's one of Emily's colleagues, he probably just misunderstood what we're doing!"
Widow hiked up her dress on one side, producing something capable of reflecting the lights on the dance floor from her upper thigh. Lena's eyes grew wide.
"Are you crazy?!"
She reacted quickly, rushing to put Widow into a hold around the shoulders. The French woman grunted slightly and turned her head. She stared at Lena through a cold-blooded gaze.
"LET. GO."
"No I will bloody well not! You're not gonna murder someone on our date!"
Slowly, the people around them became aware of what's going on. The word 'murder' was explicit enough, but those that recognized the butterfly-style knife in Widow's hand began to positively panic.
It seemed to be a stalemate between the two, at least until a shrieking blonde woman approached them. She quickly checked on Thorvald in a curiously professional manner. The guy was already rubbing his temple, leaning up onto his elbow.
"You slut! That's, like, at least a concussion you gave my boyfriend!"
The blonde woman, visibly frustrated, decided not only on the especially stupid idea of approaching them, but also to throw her drink into Widow's face.
Lena was shocked. The music ended in a record scratch. More and more people around them were set into panic, running for their lives. The few that remained got to fully appreciate just how much Thorvald and Jessica had fucked up tonight, as they could all observe how generously applied makeup slowly gave way for the blue skin of a known assassin on a face full of white rage.
The scenery before her was bizarre: Hastily abandoned drinks were shattered across the floor. There were remnants of furniture, in part or otherwise. The whole room was deserted, save for two women assaulting each other with whatever they could get their hands on.
"You had to go ahead and break our fucking deal! How hard is it not to kill people?!"
Widow had to evade a bottle of whiskey flying by her head, shattering not far away. The irony was probably lost on Lena.
"That's just because you're too cowardly to defend your own dignity!"
"Uhm-"
Emily tried to say something, but was interrupted by Lena's highly aggravated shouting.
"I don't need to defend myself by overreacting like a maniac!"
Widow threw her knife, since she didn't have any use for it in ranged combat anyway. Lena evaded in time, but instead got hit by a table lamp right after.
"You're pathetic, just like your attempts at dancing! I don't know why I even bother with this charade!"
Lena rubbed her nose, a bit light in the head after that lamp. She growled and picked up the next best bottle.
"If YOU weren't so damned impatient, maybe I would learn faster!"
During that exchange, they threw with more and more ordinance at each other. Emily tried to interject, carefully navigating the broken shards on the floor.
"Wasted effort on someone that won't even dress properly to a date!"
"Girls..?"
"So that's improper?! Who of us wanted to murder someone during the date?!"
"GIRLS!"
The two of them stopped dead in their tracks, as if they just now realized that their mutual friend was standing there.
Huh, didn't think that would work.
They looked at her expectantly. Lena was standing behind the bar and had a bottle of fine rosé in her hand while Widow had been in the process of throwing one of the bar stools.
"Uhm, I'm sorry to interrupt you two. Could we go home?"
They still looked at her with bewilderment. Emily started to fidget around, smiling with a mix of worry and tiredness.
"I'm… parking without a ticket right now. So sooner would be better."
The two of them looked at each other, then back to Emily. Widow neatly put the bar stool back down and Lena slowly emerged from behind the bar.
"This… was getting tiresome anyway."
"Yeah, I… think we should get going, luv."
They left the establishment in awkward silence.
It was already dark outside. The traffic was a bit thick and slow, but manageable. Emily watched them now and again through the rear mirror. Adorably enough, they both seemed too embarrassed to sit in the front with her. Lena accidentally brought the bottle of Rosé along and already found her calling in a quest to the bottom. The silence was deafening, so Emily tried to start a conversation.
"Uhm… don't worry about the club. Winston told the authorities that you two clashed like usual."
The silence persisted for a while, so she tried again.
"Did you have fun on your date?"
Lena just drank heavily. Widow didn't say anything at all, but rather glanced outside.
"It can't have been that bad?"
It wasn't long until Widow snatched the bottle away from Lena, so she could have some, too.
"Hey, give it back..!"
"The food was alright.", Widow stated matter-of-factly. Lena tried to get the bottle back, but the current owner kept her at bay by one-handedly shoving Lena's face away.
"Anything else?"
"Well. Dancing was…"
One of Widow's eyes twitched. It's as if her body was resisting to tell the truth.
"…surprisingly fun."
It was as if sunrise had decided to arrive early today, less than a meter from her face. Widow grimaced and lifted her hand off that surface in fear of getting burned.
"You mean it?"
Lena forgot all about the bottle and looked like a puppy more than ready to be pet.
"Why does that even matter to you?"
The little Brit giggled drunkenly and blindsided her with a quick hug.
"Because I want you to enjoy yourself, stupid!"
The grimace persisted. She tried to shove Lena's face away again, this time from cozying up to her shoulder.
"I'm NOT enjoying you clinging to me."
"You totally did when we were doing it on the dance floor!"
Emily got struck by a coughing fit while Widow tried to divert attention from their make-out session earlier.
"Shouldn't you be wearing a seat belt? Over there?"
"D'aww, you're worried about meee~"
Widow sighed in frustration and gave up. She let the drunken Lena cuddle up to her and eventually settled on putting an arm around the smaller body. Since there was no resistance anymore, drunk Lena dared to go even further.
"Will you stay with us tonight, luv?"
Since the possibility hadn't even crossed her mind, Widow was caught off-guard. She almost answered, but then just breathed out, thinking about all the implications while drinking a bit more sweet wine. Her voice was measured and boding.
"Don't press your luck. You'll be regretting this."
The drivers pair of eyes that watched them through the rear mirror joined the conversation.
"We'd… love to have you over for the night."
"Yeah, it'll be fun!"
Lena sat up against her body and looked at her full of hope in her puppy-like way. Their combined enthusiasm annoyed her. A comment full of snark is what she wanted to answer with, but it seemingly got stuck in her throat. Something about being wanted like this made her soft, which only served to annoy Widow further. After breathing through for a moment, Widow decided that she would keep her word. She would make them regret. She gazed at the rear mirror, narrowing her amber eyes with a hint of malice to the one that was responsible for all of this. Emily realized that her jig was up and held her breath.
"I guess one night won't hurt me...", Widow whispered with dark undertones. Her arm around Lena went deeper, slipped beneath her jeans to grab a healthy handful. The poor, drunk girl took a sharp intake of breath, but was granted no time to recover. Widow's other hand grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to face a sadistic smile.
".. but I can't guarantee the same for the two of you."
Widow immediately went to work on the backseats, producing squeals of terror (and the occasional giggle) from poor, dunk Lena.
Emily was condemned to watch anxiously. It would be a long, exciting drive home, most of which Emily tried her best to resist the urge of steering one-handed.
Notes:
I have to say, it was incredibly jarring to try and have Widow and Tracer react in character with this context. The kissing scene for example: I rewrote that an approximate 8 times. It actually started with Tracer initiating the kiss at one point. That felt wrong on sooo many levels.
So, this took four months to make, just as an indicator of how much trouble I had. Sorry for that...
The next won't take as long. I'm already 2k words into it. It's much more fun to write once they're already past the niceties, if ya know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
The inspiration for the club scene and all the dancing came from Death Parade: A delightfully thoughtful anime about whatever happens to your soul after death.
If you don't know what I mean, please enjoy this opening: watch?v=_DwbXmr70C0
Thank you for your time, dearest reader! I'm excited to read your thoughts in the comments ✧( ु•⌄• )