"Jesus, it's baking in here!" Junkrat says, the second he steps through the door.
"Yes," Angela sighs, "now you can see why I'm so desperate for air-conditioning!"
"Too right! We need to get this sorted. First things first though, think you could spot us a drink? I'm parched!"
Junkrat's immediate reaction to the heat makes her feel a lot better about how badly she's coped for the entirety of this damned heatwave. Angela brings them into the kitchen and pours out a tall glass of water for him. She leans against the counter, watching his adam's apple bob as he swallows and wondering how, of all the people on the team, he's the first one who's come to visit her. He's a bold presence anywhere, but it's especially strange having Junkrat here in her home, all six foot six of him making the ceiling seem much smaller than it actually is. And it's still so very odd to see him looking so clean.
Angela realises she's been staring when he's wiping his mouth, finished, and hurriedly busies herself with looking in the fridge.
"Cheers," he says, breathless from having taken such a long gulp. "Needed that."
"Have you eaten lunch?" she asks. "I've got plenty in if you'd like me to make something."
"Nah, I've not long since had breakfast."
"Oh," Angela says, trying to quell her disappointment. She faces him again with a smile. "If you're hungry, you'll let me know, won't you?"
"Sure, sure. Thanks doc." Junkrat smacks his hands together, making a loud sound as the metal hits skin. "Right then, let's have a crack at cooling this bloody house down!"
Angela is a little on edge as she leads Junkrat through to the lounge. She made sure everything was clean, at least, but now that he's here looking around she feels very aware of the unpainted walls and storage containers piled up all over the place. They're full of old documents waiting to be filed away in her office, as well as some trinkets from Switzerland that have remained unpacked since she moved in. There's also flatpack furniture she hasn't had the time or energy to build that's supposed to be going into the guest bedrooms, and a few guidebooks are perched on the ottoman from where she was rather hoping to take a look at the aircon units herself. Angela even feels self-conscious about all the cushions spread across the couch and armchairs. They should be a homey touch in an otherwise unfinished room, but now that she's looking at everything with Junkrat stood beside her, they only seem to add to the clutter.
"So then, where's this mess you were hyping up?" Junkrat asks, gently nudging her with his elbow.
"Everywhere, as you can see," she says anyway, grateful for his courtesy nonetheless. He tuts at her.
"Gonna hafta do better than this to impress me I'm afraid. Still, we've got the rest of the day to make a real mess, so all's not lost yet."
"That's a relief," Angela laughs. Come to think of it, she has no idea how long it'll take to fix the units, nor how long he's planning on staying. She may have been looking forward to having some company, but she hadn't anticipated Junkrat being here for more than an hour or two. Perhaps he really will be here for the rest of the day – another worryingly exciting thought.
"Come on then, let's have a look," Junkrat says, stepping over to where the aircon unit is screwed into the wall. He's tall, but not tall enough to comfortably reach it, so Angela brings in a stepladder. She clears some space on the bookshelf below so that he can put his toolkit down, sliding a cloth underneath it to protect the wood from being scratched.
"This is years old," Junkrat says, once he's poking around the unit. "How'd you get something so outdated?"
"These ones were the only models they had in stock at the time," Angela sighs.
"Ah, right. Tried fixing it y'self, didja?"
He must've noticed the guidebooks. Angela shakes her head.
"I wanted to but didn't get very far," she says. "You'd think a degree in nanotechnology would make repairing a few faulty air-conditioning units easy."
"S'time though, ain't it? When you're workin' all day, last thing y'wanna do is get back here and spend ages trying to fix these stupid things. Least of all when it's this stuffy."
He smiles down at her from over his shoulder. It's a relief that he appreciates this without Angela needing to explain herself.
"You know, I'm still so thankful you're willing to spend your time doing this," she says, sincerely. Junkrat goes back to prodding the unit.
"No need to be, doc. I love getting me hands dirty."
Angela bites her lip. Knowing Junkrat this is a true enough statement on its own, but she's beginning to think he's not saying these flirty sort of things unintentionally.
"Really," she says, a sarcastic non-question. Junkrat glances down at her again over his shoulder. The grin on his face is almost wolfish, making something tug at her stomach.
"What, y'don't believe me?"
God, why is she even considering flirting back with him? Junkrat is making it far too easy to get carried away, what with his marriage jokes earlier and now this!
"I'd say the need for me to coerce you into scrubbing your face everyday is quite a giveaway," she says instead, relieved when he looks away from her and just laughs. It's safer to teasingly scold him than to flirt back without knowing what would be considered inappropriate. The other thing to consider is whether or not this is simply Junkrat being his usual playful self - in which case, even better that Angela's default response is to be sassy and sarcastic. She wouldn't want to give him the wrong impression if she's reading too much into his friendly frivolity.
"Right, I'm gonna get this thing off the wall so I can get a better look," he says then, reaching down to his toolkit. It's full of various tools in various condition, with some that've been taped up many times over. He rummages through it for a screwdriver, Angela keeping her hands on the stepladder to prevent it from wobbling.
"Think I can already guess what the problem is," he tells her, when he's holding the unit in both arms.
"You can?"
It's heavy, and while she knows he won't struggle too much with the weight, Junkrat is very careful as he moves onto his pegleg. Angela holds her arms out as he steps off the ladder, frowning at the haphazardness of his movement. He'd better not fall.
"Think so," he says, safely crouched on the floor with the unit opened up in front of them. Angela isn't sure what she's looking at, only recognising a few bits from where she'd started on the guidebook. Junkrat hmms thoughtfully.
"We might need a trip out for some new parts," he says. "Looks like the same model I used to have at home."
"At home?"
"Yeah, back in Aus. Used to break on us all the time. Mum never wanted me lookin' at it, but lemme tell ya, doc, if y'think summer over here is bad, it's nothing in comparison to a summer in Aus without aircon."
Angela's eyes widen. This is the most personal thing Junkrat has ever said – the first indication that his family even exists. It's shocking that he's brought it into casual conversation like this.
"You- so you fixed it yourself?" she asks, eager to quiz him about it but uncertain of where the boundaries in this topic lie.
"Had to," he says. "Good experience though. Specially if it means I get to help you out now."
He nudges her again. For someone who's so good at causing trouble, Junkrat is also proving himself to be very good at doing and saying things which seem to tug just so at her stomach. Perhaps it ties into the whole causing trouble thing.
"Lemme see the others anyway," he says. "Y'said there're more units in the house, right?"
"Yes, there's one in my office and another in my bedroom."
Angela leads him upstairs where the air is even thicker with heat. He doesn't sweat easily from what she's seen during his training, but when she opens her bedroom door, she notices that Junkrat's forehead is shiny with perspiration and his face is slightly red.
"Don't know how you've survived in this," he says, his laugh a slightly awkward sound. He seems hesitant to come inside, moving with a reservation Angela hasn't seen before as he peeks around the doorway. Junkrat probably feels like he's trespassing. Her bedroom is quite bland, though, housing only a queen bed, dresser and wardrobe. She's still unsure how she wants to decorate it and figured that a few perfume bottles and her alarm clock would be ample decoration in the meantime. It's tidy, at least.
"You can come in," Angela tells him. "There's nothing exciting in here unfortunately."
Junkrat laughs again, looking less embarrassed now. "Don't know about that," he says. "Don't know what you might have hiding in here."
"Nothing but clothing, I can assure you," she says, smiling as he comes inside. She points him over to the unit that's fixed on the wall beside her bed. Angela grabs a handful of her makeup products so Junkrat can put his toolkit down on the dresser, and then he's up on the stepladder again having a good poke around. She watches him, noting the slight scowl of concentration as he unscrews the chassis, the precision of his movement with hands that are usually so twitchy. She had no reason to doubt his skills anyway, but it's clear that Junkrat is very familiar with this sort of thing. Despite his hesitation about coming into her bedroom, he looks like he knows what he's doing. He looks confident.
Angela keeps one hand on the stepladder so she can wipe the other across her forehead and fan her top to try and air herself. Even the drawn blinds aren't enough to keep the afternoon heat out. She should've brought a glass of water up for Junkrat, because his face is still flushed from how hot it is up here. Her makeup is probably starting to smudge, too, a thought that bothers her more than it should. Junkrat probably doesn't care about that sort of thing. Still, she'd rather he didn't see what her bare face looks like after days of bad sleep.
"This is lookin' the same as the other one," he says, after a minute of poking around its mechanical innards. Angela peers up to try and see for herself, still fanning her top to cool her chest.
"So it's a fault with the model itself?"
Junkrat turns to look at her. "It - uh." He sharply looks away again. "Yeah, I uh, think so."
Angela frowns. He looks like he's just seen a ghost.
"Is something the matter?"
"NO, no, nothing at all!" he says, a bit too loudly. "Just. Not to be a nuisance but couldja grab us another drink? M'still thirsty."
"Oh, gosh, of course. You'll - be careful, won't you?" Angela says, not really wanting to leave him alone on the stepladder. If he were to fall it should be onto the soft safety of her bed due to where he's positioned, but somehow Angela can imagine him missing it entirely and crashing onto the floor instead.
"'Course." Junkrat waves her off, apparently so consumed by whatever he's poking at that he can't look away from it. Well, she'll just have to trust that he won't try getting off the ladder unaided.
She's still fanning her top on her way out of the bedroom when all at once it occurs to her – doing so has become such an automatic habit that she must've done it right in front of Junkrat. Worse, actually, below him – probably giving him quite an inappropriate view down her chest.
… Wait. Did she forget to wear a bra today?
Oh, thank god. Angela checks immediately and is overwhelmingly relieved to feel that she did indeed remember to put a bra on this morning despite how soaked with sweat it is now, practically a second skin. Shit. No wonder he looked so shocked. Angela feels mortified. Should she go back in there and apologise? Would it only be more awkward to draw attention to it now that it's already happened? Surely he knows she was only doing it to try and cool herself, not to- god, not to give him any sort of show.
Angela grimaces, so embarrassed she almost wishes she could melt away into the floor. She hates summer for many reasons, but the impracticality of clothing really takes the cake. With how playful they've been she's a little surprised he didn't laugh it off, though, or make any teasing quip about it. He probably just wasn't expecting it. Wasn't exactly asking to get a look down her top - she didn't give poor Junkrat a choice. Damn it, she really must be more careful next time.
It's a little cooler downstairs when she heads back to the kitchen, though the sun will be at its hottest now, battering the outside of the house in 30 degree sunlight. Needing a distraction from her faux pas, she grabs some fruit to tide her over after skipping lunch earlier. Now that she's down here and considering she's just realised how damn sweaty her bra is, it's an ideal time to check her makeup and see how much of it has smudged off. Junkrat may not pay attention to it, but Angela doesn't want to subject him to a melting face if she doesn't have to. The bra incident will've been bad enough.
She pulls her phone out as a makeshift mirror only to see there's a new message on the home screen. It's from Lena. Being contacted by her outside of work hours like this would normally be a pleasant surprise, but the banner preview makes Angela's stomach lurch instead.
Doc, I've just heard about what happened on Thursday! Are you alright? I can't BELIE…
She almost doesn't want to read the rest, afraid of this being yet another notch on a growing tally against Junkrat. If she can do some damage control, though, it's worth replying. She can't exactly ignore Lena anyway, so with another grimace she double taps to read the full message.
I can't BELIEVE Junkrat did that, what on earth was he thinking?! Winston had to stay so late on Thursday! How can one person be such a liability?!
Angela takes a minute to think about her reply, aware of Junkrat on his own upstairs. She fires off what she believes to be a reasonable response.
Hey! I'm absolutely fine, had to keep Junkrat in overnight for his injuries. I was a bit too encouraging during training and he was quite remorseful when I was patching him up – don't think he meant to break anything on purpose. Sorry to hear about poor Winston, it was a long day for all of us sadly. He seemed alright when I saw him on Friday, though. Hope you're having a good day anyway, still looking forward to our Lúciana chat soon!
Angela waits to see if a reply is coming but Lena isn't typing, so she puts her phone away and decides to worry about it later. She'd also totally forgotten about Lena's invitation to go out today. Angela feels guilty remembering it now, but an even guiltier part of her is relieved that she didn't tell Lena Junkrat was coming over after all. He doesn't seem to be earning himself many points with the others, but it's difficult to convey the circumstances of his crash without Lena being there.
Yet another thing to forget about for now. After checking her makeup in a proper mirror and assessing that it still adequately masks her tiredness, Angela pours out two glasses of water. She's on her way upstairs when she hears a sudden and heavy sounding clatter, and rushes up to the bedroom with her heart pulsing in her throat, expecting to see Junkrat splayed out across floor in agony.
"Junkrat?"
Well… she was sort of right. The unit is splayed over the floor, its plastic chassis broken into pieces, and Junkrat is crouched beside it, wincing up at her with his human hand scratching his neck.
"I… may have accidentally dropped it," he says, attempting to smile at her. Angela exhales the worry held in her throat and kneels down beside him with a suffering smile of her own.
"I thought you'd hurt yourself," she sighs.
"No, the bloody thing just - slipped right out me hands!" he cries, flailing his metal arm at it.
"You know there are better ways of getting my attention than breaking things, don't you?" she says, before she can realise how provocative it sounds. Junkrat's eyes widen and it almost, almost looks like he's been caught red-handed. In fact for a second he almost looks pleased. But then he shakes his head.
"Doc, I swear, I wasn't trying to—it was an accident!"
Embarrassed for coming out with something so flirty when she's been trying so hard to not flirt with Junkrat, Angela reaches out to put a hand over his metal arm. His entire body seems to relax at this, and she softens looking at him – at all the bandages on him from his last accident, his unusually clean face so apologetic. She knows she should be annoyed with him, but Angela only seems to be growing fonder of Junkrat the more these things happen. He doesn't seem to have very good luck.
"It's fine, I'm kidding – I know you didn't mean to," she says. "Next time just come downstairs with me, as you really need another pair of hands on the ladder to prevent any falls. It's probably an entire degree cooler down there, anyway."
"Alright," he says, scratching his cheek. "I mean, it's still fixable, I'll just, er. Need to get a couple more parts for this one and it's gonna need a bit more love."
"That's no problem at all. Don't worry," she says, handing over his glass. "This is a two-person job, after all."
Once hydrated, he gauges the damage on this unit before heading into the office and getting that one off the wall, too. Angela stays with him this time, asking what the different parts are as he points them out. She trusts Junkrat's judgement when he tells her what's needed for all three. It feels like he's only just arrived but soon enough they're back in her car, heading to the local home improvement store in town.
Angela is somewhat relieved to be out of the house. She's hoping she might be able to contain herself more while she's driving, seeing as it's apparently impossible to stop herself from flirting with this inexplicably endearing peglegged man.
"So you enjoy tinkering with things, do you?" she asks him, genuinely curious.
"Love it," Junkrat says. "Can't get enough of it. Machines, cars, toys, anything I can get me hands on really. "
"Ah, so mostly mechanical things?"
"Don't get me wrong, I love messing around with computers too. Got a decent processor in this," he says then, patting his metal arm. "But if I can make something work without needing any fancy tech, even better."
"That's a fair point," Angela says. "I mean, the medical industry requires my practice as a doctor to be as fully up to date and advanced as possible, so it would be quite alien for me to strip that out and try to construct something … less modern, I suppose."
Junkrat laughs. "Old-fashioned, y'mean."
"I didn't mean it like that," Angela says, smiling over at him. "For all my nanotechnology it'd take me days to figure out what to do with those units at home. It's taken you less than an hour."
"Alright, alright, I get it, y'think I'm a country bumpkin," he says.
"Not at all!" Angela says, feeling a little bad. Junkrat is smirking when she darts a look at him though, like he's taking this in good humour.
"S'alright, I'm only messing about. Dunno, maybe I am old-fashioned. Don't really care either. Just love building stuff to be honest."
"Believe me, I'm very grateful you do," she says. "No wonder you're so good at it."
"Thanks, doc." Junkrat's got his sunglasses on again, face turned to watch the countryside pass them by as she drives. "Doesn't half get me in trouble, though."
"Ah, yes, that's something else you're rather good at."
He laughs when Angela glances over to him, but he doesn't look away from the window.
"Eesh, tell me about it! Strikes me people have no appreciation for enthusiasm these days!"
"I'll say," Angela says, thinking of Overwatch's new corporate management. "Still, without your enthusiasm, I might end up drowning in my own sweat. And my house would be even less of a mess, which is clearly the more pressing matter between the two."
Junkrat does look over at her then. "Good to know you've got your priorities straight there, doc."
Angela just laughs. Through talking about all of this, though, something's come to mind that's made her a little curious.
"By the way, may I ask – is your contractual title SA?"
"Y'mean my Overwatch one? I'm a DSA," Junkrat tells her.
SA standards for Special Agent, the classification belonging to most of the outsourced as well as in-house Overwatch agents. Having learned all of this about him, Angela is surprised that Junkrat is only a Defensive Special Agent - that he hasn't been brought in to the engineering department as a technical resource. He should really have a specialised title. Perhaps something along the lines of Technical Engineering Agent, or some other combination that would give one of those nice sounding acronyms the higher-ups seem to love so much.
"Oh right," she says.
"Why'd you ask?"
"Just curious."
She's thinking about emailing Torbjörn later on today to get Junkrat into the engineering department. His enthusiasm alone would be enough, but seeing as he's evidently technically capable, Angela is determined to put in a good word for him and see if she can get him based at headquarters. He deserves to be utilised rather than kept on a bench, and she thinks Junkrat would make a good name for himself if he was put in a role that related to his interests. She hopes he would, at least.
"Here we are," she says then, pulling into the car park. Angela decides she won't tell Junkrat just in case Torbjörn doesn't agree with her, but she's positive that he will. Torbjörn appreciates anyone willing to roll their sleeves up and get stuck in.
It's refreshing having some company on a trip out into town, even if it is just to the DIY store. What's even more refreshing is that Junkrat knows exactly what's needed, unlike Angela, who always ends up agonising over two slightly different versions of the same thing. She follows him gratefully as they navigate the store, enjoying the novelty of having a friend to walk around with when she's so used being on her own.
Junkrat walks over to an attendant to ask if they've got a certain part in stock. Fondness stirs inside her as she watches him push his sunglasses up onto his forehead, calling the attendant 'mate' in his hearty accent. She's so used to working with him at headquarters that she forgets how strange it must be for people outside Overwatch to see someone with such unusual looking prosthetics, and notices a few people staring as they walk past. Junkrat seems oblivious to it. If he's not, he certainly doesn't seem to care, chatting happily with the attendant while a couple walk past with wide eyes.
Angela imagines he must be used to it, and finds this perhaps a little more upsetting than she should. If he was more receptive to getting some cybernetic upgrades, he'd stand out less for his prosthetics and more for his incredible height, or for his wild hair and tanned skin. His eyes, even – their unusual amber colour. Those astounding abs she knows are hiding behind his top.
Gosh. Junkrat is quite handsome, actually.
He comes back over. "They got it!" he says, his usual upbeat self and completely unaware that Angela's just been staring at him. "S'back over where we got the wiring."
"Great!" she says, her voice a pitcher higher than usual. Oh no, she thinks, having to look away from him when a very warm and sudden dread threatens to fill her belly. That's not good.
"It's the last thing we need too," Junkrat says, sounding chuffed. "Let's go!"
"Please, lead the way!"
Thankfully he's too busy talking to notice how quiet she's gone. Angela nods along with what he's saying, trying desperately to block out this realisation about his unconventional attractiveness. What on earth is she doing, thinking about his abs in the middle of a DIY store? They have no bearing on anything anyway, least of all a practical shopping trip. His top isn't even off, for god's sake!
Angela files away these unnecessary thoughts, feeling better and in control when it's time to pay. Nothing wrong with appreciating a friend's appearance, which is all she's doing. Junkrat's wallet is as stuffed as it was on their night out when he pulls it out like he's going to pay, but Angela cuts in front of him with her credit card.
"No, no, I'll get this," she says, addressing Junkrat but facing the cashier.
"What? Doc, this is part of the job." He nudges her, pushing his cash in front of her card. "Don't forget I broke one of 'em."
"Don't be silly. It was broken anyway." She smiles at the cashier. Junkrat laughs like she's the one being silly, both of them jostling to pay. The cashier glances between the two of them like he's a bit scared.
Angela is the first to insist, so he takes her card hurriedly. She's beaming as they get back to the car, Junkrat grumbling to himself as he stores their purchases in the trunk. He hauls himself into the passenger seat, careful to keep his prosthetic leg tucked in, but luckily her car is big enough for him to sit quite comfortably despite his height.
"Our first trip out and we've had another fight," Angela sighs, clicking in her seatbelt.
"I'd say we've got… one, maybe two more to go before we get into true married couple territory," Junkrat says.
"I'm sure we'll find something else to argue about before the end of the day. How about the radio?"
"By all means, doc, give it your best shot!"
Angela is grinning as she puts some music on, and then they're back on the road.
"How long ya been living around here then?" Junkrat asks, moments later. Looks like he'd rather chat than argue about the radio after all.
"I've been in the UK for about five years now," Angela tells him. "I was renting an apartment in the city working at a private hospital, then I moved to Buckinghamshire after buying my current house."
"Buckinghamshire," Junkrat snorts. "Christ. Couldja get anymore British than that?"
"I know, it does sound ridiculous."
"Why'd ya move outta London?" he asks. "Not a fan of the city?"
Angela thinks about this. Just about everyone on the team has asked her the very same question. While there's little to do in Bucks in comparison to London, that's sort of the reason why she likes it out here. It's nice to get all the hustle and bustle of the city during the day and then return home to quiet countryside at night, despite the fact that Angela spends the majority of her time alone as a result.
"Sometimes I wonder that myself," she says. "I'd certainly be a lot closer to HQ, and I do like London. But it's better having my own place, and I'd rather live in the countryside while I can. It's very similar to my home town, around here."
Junkrat is looking out of the window at the surrounding greenery. "Seems nice n'all, I'll admit, but I've done my time living out in the middle of nowhere."
Oh, of course - Junkrat has first-hand experience of living in a remote place. For all its beautiful leafy seclusion, Bucks wouldn't feel nearly as isolated as the outback.
"I understand," Angela says. "It is very quiet here. Too quiet, I suppose. But there's a good mix of people – commuters, local families, farmers. I like experiencing both sides, if that makes sense. City and countryside."
"I getcha," Junkrat says. "Don'tcha find it boring out here though? Nothing but farms and fields s'far as I can tell."
"Gosh, I don't think I've ever had time to be bored," she says. "There's always something that needs doing. I bought the house thinking it would be a good side project while I was working at the hospital. Then Overwatch started up again and everything sort of slowed after that. I don't think I've managed to finish a single room yet."
"Yeah, but you're not working on it on your own, are ya."
"I'm certainly trying to," Angela says. She notices him push his sunglasses off his eyes. When she glances over at him, Junkrat is looking at her sceptically.
"Doesn't your man help out?"
Oh god. Angela braces herself for the question she knows is coming.
"Man?" she asks. She keeps her eyes on the road, aware that Junkrat is still looking at her. It's making her face feel hot.
"Yeah, y'know, your boyfriend," he says. "Or, uh, girlfriend. Significant other."
She wasn't prepared for Junkrat to ask her this. It was probably naïve of her considering how personal and surprisingly flirty their interactions have been thus far, even though the flirtation has been more playful than serious. It's a reasonable question for anyone to ask, really. She just didn't think Junkrat would be interested to know about her love life.
"Actually, I'm single," she says, though it comes out as a nervous laugh as she braces herself once again.
"WHAT?"
This is about the reaction she was expecting. It's the reaction she gets from most people.
"You mean to tell me you're tryin'a renovate an entire house by y'self, and you're single?!" he asks, sounding genuinely shocked. It's as flattering as it is embarrassing.
"That's right," Angela says, simply. Junkrat scoffs.
"Pull the other one!"
She laughs, even more embarrassed now. Angela feels so acutely aware of what must be a terribly obvious blush on her face that she reaches out to turn the temperature down, needing a blast of cool air.
"I'd rather be capable of doing things myself, Junkrat," she says, calmly. "It's just a matter of needing more time, which I don't really have for renovation or a relationship."
"Nah, I don't believe that," he says. He folds his arms and shakes his head. "Not for a minute."
She smiles, frowning. "What's so hard to believe?"
He snorts. "M'sure y'don't need me to tell you what's so hard to believe about it, doc."
Angela's stomach flips. When she goes to look at him he's facing the window again. They're back at the house now, parked up. She sets the handbrake and faces Junkrat properly, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny.
"No, go on," she says. "Enlighten me."
Junkrat grins. It seems private, like he's thinking about his answer, and he pulls his sunglasses back over his eyes like he wants to hide himself. They don't hide his blush, though. Angela is suddenly dying to know what he's thinking, and coupled with her little realisation in the store, it's making her feel like she's skating ever closer to the threshold of something very dangerous.
"Doesn't matter!" he chirps, getting out of the car. It's such an obvious digression that Angela laughs as she follows suit.
"Really?" she asks, going to unlock the house. Junkrat brings their purchases over. He firmly shakes his head.
"Nope! I've thought about it, and I've decided. Reeaally doesn't matter."
"Are you sure?" she asks, one last attempt to needle it out of him.
"Maybe I'll fill you in later, if you're that curious to know. How's about that?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows at her like this is some fantastic pickup line.
"Oh, just come inside already, you!" she laughs, then, ushering him in. She's curious about what will change between now and later that'll make him more willing to divulge whatever he's thinking, but for now, Angela doesn't want to risk reading too much into something that's probably only Junkrat being cheeky. It's concerning how hopeful she is, though – even more so that she's not sure what exactly she's hopeful for.
As before, Junkrat gets a couple of steps through the door before groaning loudly at the sweltering air inside.
"Ugh! I'm sorry doc, but it is too bloody hot in here!" he says, putting down the bags so he can pull off his DUMB BLOND vest. Well, it was only a matter of time, Angela supposes, biting her lip as once again those damned abs are on display. She tries not to look at them – at him – and focuses instead on getting them a glass of water. Junkrat indicates that he's a little peckish too, so she happily whips up a couple of chicken sandwiches for them before getting started on the units. It makes her feel good being able to make him something to eat, but she's grateful for anything that distracts from her platonic appreciation of his attractive body.
When they're back in the lounge it becomes evident that Junkrat has done this before. It takes him no time at all to fix the unit here, Angela so happy she could cry when cold air comes blasting through it. They stand side by side under it, eyes closed and heads tipped back in a mutual appreciation for this brief reprieve from what has been an entire afternoon – in Angela's case, days – of suffocating heat. Junkrat fixes the office unit in a similarly quick time. It's most likely a placebo effect of knowing two units are working, but she could swear it already feels like the house is cooler for it.
The one in her bedroom will take longer to fix. Angela doesn't mind at all, sitting on the edge of the mattress watching as Junkrat tapes together the broken chassis. Considering he's come here to do a job, Angela can't quite get over how much fun she's had with him today. She watches him fondly, elbow on her knee and chin resting on her palm.
"This ain't gonna look pretty, but I can promise you it's gonna work," he says, offering her a hopeful smile when he looks up. Angela shakes her head.
"If it will make my bedroom cold, I don't care how it looks."
Junkrat patches it up to the best of his ability using the green and yellow tape he's got in his toolkit, before getting to work on fixing the unit itself. There isn't a trace of doubt in Angela's mind that recommending him to Torbjörn is the best thing to do. He's proven himself to not only be willing, but competent, and if anyone will allow Junkrat a chance to shine as part of Overwatch it'll be someone open-minded and encouraging like Torbjörn. Angela was planning on emailing him, but she's going to talk to him first thing on Monday morning instead. An in-person recommendation will go much further than an email.
Yawning, Angela checks the time on her phone. No text back from Lena. It's approaching early evening now, but it doesn't feel like it's been long at all since Junkrat first arrived. She wishes she wasn't so tired but unfortunately the week is catching up with her. For all the fun they've had, she's looking forward to getting into bed knowing she'll be able to sleep well tonight.
Junkrat is back on the stepladder now, fixing the unit onto the wall. She watches him, looking his body over where she's holding the ladder still, all toned muscle and tanned skin. One long leg while the other doesn't even have a foot. Angela can't see the stretchmarks over his hips in this light, but she knows they're there, remembers them from his medical, and she wonders how many scars he's got – sort of wishes she'd paid more attention, even though she was strictly doing her job.
"I think you'll be able to take your bandages off this evening," Angela says. She can justify staring if it's to assess him. Junkrat doesn't look away from what he's doing, but he's happy to hear this.
"Great stuff!"
Angela notices that his face is dirty again, which seems unbelievable until she realises he's been touching it while working – little thoughtful habits mixed with wiping away sweat. His hair's gone messy again, too, where he's kept raking his fingers through it. Unfortunately she doesn't have any handwipes around, but somehow seeing Junkrat like this – shirt off, dirty faced – makes Angela feel even fonder of him. He made an effort for her to begin with, which she absolutely appreciates, but now it's like he's himself again – the same Junkrat she's spent the last week with in training. The Junkrat she's come to know and like so much.
Angela finds herself more appreciative him now than ever, despite his clumsiness and what the others think of him. Even despite his dirty face. It's been nothing but a pleasure having him here today. If she's honest with herself, she doesn't really want him to go, either. This Junkrat – the one in front of her with who's spent most of his Saturday working here – has done nothing but make her smile.
"Phew," he puffs out, when the unit is on the wall and they're both sitting on her bed looking up at it. Angela is so overwhelmed with gratitude that she leans over to bunt her shoulder against his, trying to convey how warm and affectionate she feels towards him right now.
"I really, really, really cannot thank you enough," she says, stifling a yawn against her hand. She's about to pull away when Junkrat leans in, too – enough to rest his head against hers.
"Aww, doc," he laughs. Junkrat pulls away to smile at her. Angela looks up at him, at his friendly, dirty face, and for a split second she's so gripped with – with – something that it almost, almost makes her want to lean in closer, close enough to just -
"Don't you go worrying about it," he says then, putting an arm around her and giving her one of those brotherly side-squeezes. "Bet you're looking forward to getting some good sleep!"
"I- I am, yes," Angela says, dazed. She's relieved that he's done this, though, broken out of her reverie and afraid of what she was about to do in the heat of the moment. Cool of the moment, even. Maybe she does need some sleep if she's having such acutely concerning urges.
"Anyway, I'd better get me stuff together," Junkrat sighs, getting up off the bed.
"You're - going?" Angela asks. She stands up too, watching with a sinking feeling as he starts putting away his tools.
"Yeah, I don't wanna keep ya."
"Oh, Junkrat, it's no trouble if you'd like to stay. Aren't you hungry?"
"Nah, honestly, I'm good. That sandwich sorted me right out. Plus you're lookin' pretty tired."
Angela reaches up to touch her face, instantly worried about her makeup. Junkrat pulls on his vest when his tools are packed away, and he laughs when he faces her again, eyebrows knotting together.
"No need to look so worried, doc, you're still gorgeous as ever," he says, gently nudging beneath her chin with his thumb. It sends her heart straight up from her chest to her throat. "I know it's been a hard week for ya. Mostly my doin', too. Think ya need some solid rest."
She's used to people flattering her like that, so why does it feel so different coming from Junkrat? Angela holds his eyes. This is a fight she isn't going to win judging by how ready he seems to leave. She can't keep him if he's set on going. And… well, she is quite tired, in truth.
"Alright," she says, relenting. "At least let me run you to the station, if you're absolutely sure you don't want anything else to eat."
Junkrat is happy to compromise with this. They head downstairs, Angela smiling at how cool the air is down here despite the disappointment of Junkrat's impending departure. Once he's ready, she grabs her purse from the counter.
"Here, some money for the day and the train tickets," she says, offering a neat wad of cash. Junkrat gently pushes it back to her.
"That really ain't necessary," he says, smiling like he's uncomfortable. "Y'don't need to pay me. I'm more than happy to help."
"Junkrat, you've spent the better part of a day here doing work! It's a Saturday!"
"So? Don't matter what day it is, doc. I wouldn't feel right takin' it from ya."
"But you've had to commute!"
"And you've fed me!"
Angela huffs. "There's no way I'm letting you go until you accept. It's bad enough you were trying to pay for the parts!"
"Alright, look," he says, taking hold of her hands when she tries to push the cash towards him again. "I really appreciate y'wanna pay. Totally get it! S'very noble of ya. But how about next time we go out, you buy us a round of drinks instead."
Angela can't find her words with Junkrat holding her hands like that, looking at her like this. He's doing that thing again, lifting his eyebrows like he's urging her to say yes.
"Sound good?"
It feels unfair for a number of reasons. Unfair that he's not taking her money, that holding her hands is enough to get her tongue-tied. That looking at him is making that dangerous something from before intensify. That he has to go at all, actually, leaving her alone again.
"On… the condition that you tell me what exactly you were thinking earlier, yes, I will buy you some drinks instead," Angela says. She's trying to sound playful, but it comes out alarmingly serious. Junkrat blows out a long breath. He takes his hands off hers so he can put one on his hip and run the other through his hair.
"Puttin' me in a really tough spot here, doc," he says. "Is bargaining like this a doctor thing or a Swiss thing?"
"It's a me thing," she tells him. Angela is grinning but her stomach is squirming, wanting to know, wanting to hear him say it. She has an idea of what it is, and part of her isn't sure she's even ready for it, one step away from a cliff edge there's no turning back from. But the other part of her wants to step forwards – wants to hear it, secretly hoping that maybe whatever Junkrat has to say will justify all these thoughts and feelings that only seem to have mounted as she's spent more and more time with him.
Junkrat holds her eyes. He purses his lips like he's thinking about it. But when he looks away from her and shakes his head, laughing, Angela's heart falls.
"I was just messing about to be honest," he says, scratching his neck. When Junkrat does meet her eyes again his smile is almost apologetic. "But I mean, I think any bloke with a brain can see y'shouldn't be single, doc."
"That's – very kind of you," she says, managing a little laugh like she was only joking anyway. "Thank you, Junkrat. I suppose I can let you off the hook."
As they get into her car, Angela tries to rationalise how overwhelmingly and unduly disappointed she is that he didn't have anything more to say on the matter. She regrets bringing the subject up again when she starts driving and neither one of them talk. In all the time she's spent with him in and outside of work, she can't remember an instance where there's been this much tension hanging in the air between them – not even their disagreement on his prosthetics. It feels awful after having such a great day with him, another disappointment weighing her stomach down.
Perhaps the most disappointing thing of all, though, is that Junkrat was only being playful today after all. Now that she's in the car with no rational explanation for what she's feeling, Angela can admit to herself that she was actually rather hoping he wasn't.
"Shit, almost forgot," Junkrat murmurs, suddenly. She glances over to see him pulling out his eyedrops from his pocket.
"Been meaning to do it all day," he says, sighing as he puts them in. "Ahhh, much better!"
"Gosh," Angela says, instantly switching back into work mode. "I'm pleased to see you're still using them. There's been a noticeable difference for sure."
"Oh yeah? Been looking into my eyes, have you, doc?"
"I have indeed," she says, not looking away from the road. "Need to know that the drops are working as intended."
"Oh, sure," he teases, but Angela knows better than to bite this time. They fall quiet again, Junkrat's bait left hanging in the tense air between them.
"Y'know, I gotta be honest with ya, normally I hate seeing the doctor," he says then. Angela frowns, wondering where this has come from.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Never liked quacks. But y'know what? I think this one's alright."
"'This one'?" she asks incredulously, some of the weight in her stomach lifting from what appears to be more teasing.
"Yeah. This one's alright."
Angela can't stop herself laughing. "Are you honestly referring to me in third person right now?"
"I mean, she's still a quack, but definitely the nicest quack I've met."
"I'm literally sitting right next to you!" she says, trying to ignore the burst of warmth from his unexpected sweetness. She's relieved that he's broken the silence with something like this, though – that they're talking normally again.
"Perhaps I should start calling her quack," Junkrat muses. "Term of endearment and all that."
"Oh, my god, absolutely not! If you want to call me anything, call me Angela!"
"What, y'don't like doc?" he asks her. Angela cringes.
"I don't mind it, but I don't really have a choice. Everyone calls me 'doc'." Even Lena, come to think of it. Only the senior members of the team use her real name.
"Y'hafta admit though, it does sorta suit you," he says. "Bein' a quack n' all."
Angela reaches out to swat at his arm.
"Joking!" he laughs, play fighting her off. "I was joking!"
They're at the station now. Even Junkrat seems surprised when Angela parks up, though she can't help wondering if maybe he's disappointed at how quickly their journey together has come to an end, too.
She gets out automatically when he does, not really wanting to just wave him off from the car. She knows the train times already – Junkrat's got about two minutes before the next train to London – and it's only a small station, so she follows him onto the platform.
It's really strange, but somehow Angela feels like she hasn't stood this close to Junkrat in all the time she's spent with him - like this is the most intimate thing she's done with anyone in a long time. There's something so personal about waiting for a train with someone, probably because she only ever comes here alone, catches trains in and out of London by herself. It's weird to have someone with her – to be seeing someone off. She wonders if he might be thinking the same thing, though it's unlikely. Junkrat probably just wants to get home.
His sunglasses are perched on his forehead. She can see what remains of the day reflected in them, the sky still bright despite it being evening, now. Junkrat glances past her shoulder to watch the train pulling in, and then he's looking down at her, grinning.
"Best be off," he says.
"Thank you so much again for today," she says. Angela feels oddly panicked now that the train is here, wanting to cling onto these last few moments even though she's spent the entire afternoon with him.
"Not at all, doc, anytime." He puts his toolkit down. "C'mere," he says then, quietly.
Angela's eyes widen when quite suddenly he pulls her close. His metal arm comes around her shoulders but his human one goes lower, around the small of her back. He isn't giving her a brotherly side-squeeze this time – no, Junkrat is hugging her, holding her body flush against his. Angela has to balance up on her toes even though he's already bending to meet her, and her breath catches in her throat, this embrace so unexpected she doesn't know what to do with herself. He's warm, his hold is strong, and there's that diesel smell again from before, overpowering now that so much of her skin is pressed against his.
"S'been a pleasure, Angie," Junkrat murmurs, somewhere close to her ear. "Thanks for having me."
She doesn't even have time to lift her arms up to hug him back before he's letting go of her, pulling away. Junkrat puts his sunglasses back down over his eyes and grabs his toolkit. He's grinning casually enough, but Angela can see that he's blushing, like maybe that wasn't such a casual hug for him either.
"Take care, won't you?" she says, an automatic phrase as he boards the train.
"'Course! See ya Monday, Angie. Enjoy your aircon!"
He waves at her. Angela manages to call out a goodbye before the doors close, and then the train is moving again, taking Junkrat back to the city.
Angie. When was the last time anyone called her Angie? Oh, god. When was the last time she was even properly hugged?
She sits still for a good minute once she's back in the car trying to process what's happened. In fact she's still trying to process what's happened when she's driving, when she's parked up back at home. Angela unlocks the front door feeling lighter than air while carrying an immense weight in her stomach at the same time. Elation tinged with dread. How on earth could she have allowed this to happen?
She wants to put it down to tiredness. To just – liking Junkrat as a friend. To being grateful for having some company! But when she gets in, all she manages to eat is a slice of toast, her stomach too laden with emotion to cope with anything else, and she knows that this is a tell-tale sign of something more than gratitude. She's been trying so hard to find an explanation for what she's feeling but the answer is looming over her, simple and terrifying and beckoning her ever closer to the cliff edge.
She undresses and showers and gets into bed. Angela is exhausted, but she stops when she goes to turn the light off, looking up at the newly functioning aircon unit. It's a bloody eyesore – Junkrat wasn't kidding when he said it wouldn't look pretty. It's patched up crudely, all multi-coloured tape holding it together. He's even put a sticker on it, one of those scary smiley faces she's seen before on his frag launcher.
Oh well. It's an eyesore, but it's a functional eyesore, she thinks, turning out the light. A permanent reminder of Junkrat's presence here. The banter and flirting. The hug.
S'been a pleasure, Angie.
After all the trouble she's gone through trying to get an engineer out, even with her bedroom finally and blissfully cold, Angela still can't sleep. She'd thought that Junkrat was going to take her hand and jump over the cliff edge with her. Was hoping he would, actually, after all that build up. Instead, he seems to have guided her up to it and pushed her off before laughing and running away. Angela knows it's unfair to feel like this - it really isn't his fault she's allowed herself to reach this point, but honestly, of all the people to have a rapport with. Of all the people feel close to.
Of all the people she could've gotten a crush on, Angela cannot believe she's gone and bloody gotten one on Junkrat.
Okay. There it is. There's no taking it back now that she's admitted it, even if it's just to herself. The evidence is clear, and it's far better to address it head-on than pretend it doesn't exist.
First things first, Angela absolutely cannot tell anyone about this. Nobody on the team will understand. Lena would probably disown her. She also shouldn't have a crush on him in the first place, because technically he's a patient, and the thought alone of letting HR know about an agent/agent relationship – the paperwork it would produce – makes Angela physically shudder. In fact they probably wouldn't even allow it, anyway, what with her being head of medical. Too great a conflict of interest.
There's then the issue of Junkrat probably – possibly? - not reciprocating the crush, which sort of negates the whole needing to let HR know thing, but would also leave Angela with some very frustrating one-sided physical attraction and absolutely nothing she can do about it. If she were to address the problem – the crush – with Junkrat himself, it could then jeopardise her friendship and rapport with him, and result in some excruciating situations when they're inevitably sent on a mission together. There's also the slight moral dilemma of Junkrat being a criminal, but that's neither here nor there now that he's been pardoned through Overwatch.
She's working with him for the foreseeable future now. Nothing she can do about it at this point in time, not until she's had time to properly think things through.
… Logically, the solution to this would be to excise herself of this crush as soon as possible, though. Acknowledging it is half of the battle. Explaining it is also surprisingly simple: she's been lonely, has spent a lot of time with him recently, finds him physically attractive in various ways, and he makes her laugh. Really, it would've been more surprising if she didn't have a crush on Junkrat after all this.
Now it's just a case of shutting it down and moving on. She's had the giddiness and excitement of the hug. All the teasing and flirting won't be a problem now that she knows it's probably platonic on Junkrat's part. That hug, though… and then there's the fact that he called her Angie. God, just thinking about it makes Angela's stomach flip over. She buries her face into the pillow, smiling helplessly at how incredibly good it felt to hear him call her that.
Oh god. Right, okay. Angela resolves to just… park it, for now. She'll deal with it tomorrow. No, on Monday, when she'll see him again. For now, she really needs to get some sleep, and hope that maybe in the morning, things might be a little clearer.
Of all the people, though. Why, why, why did it have to be him!