When Angela wakes up on Sunday morning the first thing on her mind is that damn hug from last night. Rather than dwell on it, and all the dangerous warmth it seems to have left inside her, she decides to make the most out of her wonderfully air-conditioned house and have a productive day doing some filing instead.
Filing is an exceptionally boring task that she's been putting off for months. With a cool environment to work in Angela is grateful for it today, kneeling in the lounge with papers and files scattered all over the floor. So much of her work is digital that it feels archaic having to collate and holepunch documentation like this, not to mention wasteful considering the space these folders will take up in her office. But she's happy to be distracted by this old-fashioned way of working, and when she's carrying several new binders upstairs she's smiling to herself.
The lounge will be much tidier when she's finished. She should be able to invite Lena over soon. Maybe Jesse as well, have them both over for dinner sometime. It would probably do her good to have more company. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so strongly about the company she's just had if she invited people over more often – or at all, really, as it's been so long.
Don't think about it. Angela repeats this every time she catches herself reflecting on how much fun she had yesterday, how it felt to be pulled close and called something other than doc. The metal arm around her shoulders. Being held so firmly against a strong, warm body. Angela tries to tell herself that she'd feel like this with anyone, but it's futile, of course, because now she can't imagine sharing such closeness with anyone other than him. And even if she could somehow extract him from the hug and being called Angie, it wouldn't mean anywhere near as much.
Still, it's only a crush, and a crush that she can't do anything about. By lunchtime she's distracted herself successfully enough to have totally cleared out some of the storage containers. Her phone buzzes just as she's sitting down for lunch, and when she pulls it out of her pocket expecting to see a text from Lena, Angela's stomach curls into itself to see that it's actually a text from Junkrat.
How's the aircon? Nice and cold for you?
She's spent the entire morning trying her best not to think about him, much less hope for any contact. Angela is disappointed with herself for being so excited to receive this text. She'd also forgotten that he had her number – that they have a slightly more personal means of communication now, which is both a blessing and a curse. She puts her phone down thinking she'll reply after lunch, not wanting to seem overly keen, but then she's picking it up again and her thumbs are moving over the keys before she can stop herself.
Lovely and cold, thank you. :) I noticed the sticker you put on the unit in my bedroom, too.
Junkrat's response is brief, but instant.
Oh yeah lol! Like it?
It's certainly different, Angela writes back, smiling.Not quite what I had in mind for the room's décor.
Well it is my seal of approval so I'll take that as a compliment!
Angela's eyes widen at this. His seal of approval? For what?
For a job well done? she writes, hesitating before sending it anyway. It takes Junkrat a moment to start typing again, and she feels a little anxious waiting to see what he says.
I should bloody well hope so lol! It's working alright isn't it?
Angela exhales. For all the excitement that comes with a crush – because, admittedly, it is rather exciting – she'd forgotten just how awful they can be when every interaction turns into a minor source of anxiety.
Yes, I believe so.
Ah that's good. If any of them start making any funny noises let me know!
Not worried, are you? Angela writes, hitting send before she can second-guess herself. A bit of banter won't hurt.
Lol course not :P Shoulda stuck around a bit longer to make sure everything was alright though
This makes her stomach flip. It's dangerously easy to read into things that aren't there - crushes always intensify even the smallest interactions – but she can't help feeling excited to know that Junkrat wishes he'd stayed longer after all.
You should've stayed she begins to type, only to stop and delete it. What's she thinking, putting things like that? It's fine to have a bit of a crush, but she can't afford to get carried away with it.
You would have been more than welcome she writes instead. A different kind of anxiety settles in her stomach this time. After working in the heat all day it was perfectly reasonable for him to have left when he did, but it was a little strange he didn't want to stay for anything to eat. Angela suddenly wonders if it's because he was going to have dinner with Roadhog. She's been so caught up in spending time alone with Junkrat that she hasn't given his relationship with Roadhog any thought, and it might explain why he wanted to leave without eating anything yesterday. If they are indeed a couple they probably have dinner together.
Well, not that it makes a difference either way. Angela still doesn't think they are together like that, but she'd prefer to know.
You would have been more than welcome :) but I'm sure you were missing your better half back at home!she writes, then. This feels like a safe statement. It's teasing, but the smile should indicate that she's just being friendly. Angela hits send and tenses up, dreading his reply and the potential disappointment it'll bring. Junkrat starts typing immediately and she holds her breath when his message pops up.
You think HE'S the better half?!
This isn't quite the definitive answer she was hoping for. It makes her stomach tighten – he hasn't denied being Roadhog's other half - but Angela doubles down, determined to find out one way or another even if the answer isn't what she wants to hear.
Oh, am I mistaken? ;)
Yes you bloody well are lol!
Well, he was very impressive in the gym…
And I wasn't?!
She can practically hear Junkrat saying this, throwing his arms up in mock outrage. Feeling bolder, Angela decides to run with this misleading dialogue. It's bad of her, but she's enjoying Junkrat's defensive responses, especially as it's sounding like he might be a little jealous. She's just not exactly sure what he's jealous of, yet.
I didn't say that! Just making an observation.
Yeah right lol I see how it is! Next you'll be telling me you wanna buy HIM drinks!
Oh, is that an option? ;)
NO!
Junkrat is doing an excellent job of staying vague about this, whether intentionally or not. Angela pauses for a moment before she replies again.
Perhaps he could come and help me paint the walls, seeing as he's so tall. :)
I'M TALL!
She had a feeling he'd say something like that. Angela grins, feeling guilty for teasing him but also cautiously excited now that she has an inkling of where this is going.
Not as tall as Roadhog though, she writes, sure she's close to an answer. Junkrat has been replying instantly so far, but he seems to pause at this, taking longer before he starts typing again. She can feel her heart in her chest, beating fast while she waits. When his message finally comes, Angela's eyes immediately home in on the two words she's been waiting for.
Oohhhhhh now you listen here missy. He might be my best mate but I am NOT going to be Roadhog's wingman here. Got it!
Best mate. Looks like her suspicions were correct after all. Not that it changes anything, but hearing this is more of a relief than it should be. She allows herself to read Junkrat's message a few times over, shoulders relaxing from where they'd been tensed.
Okay, okay, got it! I suppose I'll just have to buy you drinks instead, as agreed.
You best had! I'm adding more to your tab for this!
Angela bites her lip around another grin. This is exactly the sort of back and forth that makes talking to Junkrat so fun – and so easy, too, now that she's getting a better feel for what's acceptable. Not that it's helping her crush, but it's been such a long time since she experienced a thrill like this that she doesn't mind indulging herself. It's only a bit of texting.
A bit of texting accidentally turns into most of the afternoon. Angela paces through the house and out onto the veranda while tapping away on her phone to Junkrat. When their conversation eventually peters off, she realises she was midway through organising the next batch of papers. When she's back in the lounge the aircon has blown them all across the floor, meaning she has to start again, finding the pages numbered one through a hundred to put them back in order.
It's much harder to concentrate now, though, and her face hurts from having smiled for hours. Eventually she collates the papers and puts them into a binder. Even as the afternoon draws into evening Angela is still riding high on adrenaline, struggling to keep herself truly occupied. There's an old cabinet that's been sitting out on the veranda waiting to be painted that she'd noticed while she was pacing, so she decides to grab a pot of chalk paint and make a start on it, unbothered by the heat outside now that her house is adequately chilled. She can't help excitedly checking her phone every now and again for new messages, but Junkrat doesn't text her for the rest of the evening, meaning she gets two coats of paint done without distraction.
It's almost like she's spent the entire weekend with him anyway, in a sense, so it doesn't bother Angela by the time she's getting into bed. A thought occurs before she goes to turn the light off, making her grab her phone to text him one last time. While she initially hesitates, it feels work-related enough to be appropriate.
By the way, did you remove your bandages? she asks him. It doesn't take Junkrat more than a minute to start typing, like he was on his phone already. Angela doubts he goes to bed as early as she does, though.
Yeah I did! Everything's all healed now ta :D
That's good to hear. And no pain?
Nah no pain just scars now
I'll take a look tomorrow, see if there's anything we can do about them.
Lol nah it's alright a few scars don't bother me!
Angela sighs, unsurprised by this, but when she goes to reply Junkrat starts typing again.
But you're welcome to take a look anyway ;)
She sits up in bed. Angela isn't quite sure what to say to this. He's… yes, there's no doubt about it. Junkrat is definitely flirting with her, this time. It feels like it's come out of nowhere. Her heart is beating fast again, high up in her chest now. She allows her thumbs to take over, not wanting to spend too long constructing a response.
I have your permission, then? she sends. Angela remains sitting up, waiting to see him type. He does after a minute, though it feels a lot longer than that. She swallows as the message pops up.
Of course :P
Angela laughs. She can't quite believe what she's reading. She knows how she'd like to reply, too, thumbs poised over the keys as her heart hammers at the base of her throat. It's not appropriate, though. Too risky. With regret, Angela tempers what she wants to say into something safe.
Then I'll see you tomorrow. :)Thanks again for all your help this weekend. Goodnight Junkrat.
Lol see you then. Sweet dreams Angie
And there it is, that name again. She's giddy as she turns off the light and puts her phone face down on the bedside table, eyes squeezed shut, ordering herself to get some sleep. Sooner she sleeps, the sooner she can get back to work and escape from this dreamy bubble of a weekend where everything feels too good to be true.
Sleeping proves to be impossible, of course. Angela can't stop thinking about it – about Angie and the wink and all the texts they've exchanged. Everything that happened yesterday. That damn hug. She'd convinced herself that Junkrat was only saying things in jest - the jokes about being a married couple and everything - but their banter suddenly feels much flirtier now. The way he'd nudged her chin, told her she was gorgeous as ever, refused to say why he couldn't believe she was single - it all seems objectively flirtatious when Angela had been so sure he was simply being playful. Even calling her Angie feels more intimate than it should.
She opens her eyes and stares up at the ceiling. The more she thinks about it, the more she's beginning to realise that, actually, Junkrat has probably been flirting with her the entire time. All the little touches, the need to impress her, everything Junkrat has said that she's brushed aside as platonic or playful… his jealousy, even, simply because she was teasing him about Roadhog. Angela can't believe she's been so blind to all of this. God, Lena noticed on their first night out.
Okay, no, be reasonable, she thinks, needing to protect herself from the terrifying prospect of reciprocation. She could still be reading into something that isn't there. But with all this evidence staring her in the face, Angela has a feeling that maybe … maybe her crush might not be so one-sided after all. It's as frightening as it is exciting, really. She'll just have to gauge how things are tomorrow, and cling desperately to the knowledge that regardless of her crush - and any potential reciprocation - she has no choice but to keep things professional while they're at work.
She's so hyped on adrenaline that she doesn't feel particularly tired even hours into the night, dizzy by equal measures of hoping and fearing reciprocation. Seems like she was right to consider Junkrat an injection of chaos into Overwatch back when she first met him. Angela just didn't think he'd be an injection of chaos into her personal life as well.
Despite her lack of sleep, she's in excellent spirits on her way into headquarters on Monday. Angela had been a little worried that she'd dread it, coming face to face with him after acknowledging her feelings. On the contrary, she's confident in her ability to remain professional. Besides that, it's been so long since she felt any sort of romantic excitement for anyone that she's happy to allow herself this, on the grounds of knowing it can't go anywhere. At the end of the day, it's still only a crush.
She's also not seeing Junkrat first thing anyway, and heads straight up to engineering for her appointment with Torbjörn. He's in his office with a mug of tea in hand, having only just started his shift. When she taps on the door he calls her straight in, greeting her with a big smile. Angela is instantly grateful for it. His cheeriness will be a good distraction.
"I expect you're here for an update on Caduceus!" he says, chipper as usual.
"Oh, yes," she says. It was the second point of discussion on her list. "Any news?"
"Good news in fact! We got approval for the emergency canisters!"
Angela balks. "Really?!"
Torbjörn laughs, gesturing for her to come around his desk. He's still holding his mug, the one that has WORLD'S NO.1 DAD on it. Angela doesn't think she's ever seen him using any others in all the time she's known him.
"Have a look for yourself," he says, bringing up the email on his desktop. Angela's eyes widen.
"That must be the quickest approval we've had. I can't quite believe they've said yes at all!"
During Caduceus' last service, Torbjörn had suggested keeping a concentrated supply of healing solution locked inside it in the event of an emergency. Ironically, the health and safety rep he'd spoken to had indicated that the healing concentrate would be too potent and was unlikely to be approved, but apparently they've changed their minds. Trying to get even minor alterations put through the system normally takes months, but Torbjörn only made this particular request a few weeks ago, making the turnaround even more impressive.
"How long do you think it'll take to implement?" she asks. Torbjörn folds his arms.
"Pffft. Come on, Angela, what sorta man do you take me for? I've already done it!"
"Oh, that's brilliant!" she says, though she isn't surprised. Torbjörn prides himself on his efficiency.
He leads her out of his office and into the main engineering department. It's busy already and Angela notices some fresh faces interspersed with the regulars who've worked here for years. Mostly young men and a couple of young women – graduates, probably. They look a little star struck as Torbjörn leads her through the workshop.
"Hi, Miss Ziegler!"
"Good morning, Miss Ziegler!" they call out. Angela waves at them in greeting.
"New grads," Torbjörn confirms, grinning. "They're big fans."
"I see," Angela says, embarrassed as she grins back at him.
He brings her through to his private workshop where he has Caduceus locked in a glass case. A few turrets are benched in here too, prototypes for newer models, but he leads Angela straight over to her staff.
"Right then, it's very simple." He gets it out and hands it up to her. "See that glass panel there?"
Angela looks. It's at the head of the rod, a strip of glass that wasn't there before. Torbjörn points at it.
"There's a keyhole just beneath it – see?"
"Yes, I can see that," she says, amazed. "It's tiny!"
"I've installed the corresponding key in your Valkyrie. Push it in to unlock it, and you'll be able to pop out a couple of canisters. Only 400 millilitres of the stuff, mind, but that's all we're allowed." He frowns, then, grumbling to himself. "Was hoping to get double that amount. Bloody health and safety get on my nerves."
"Gosh, that's certainly better than nothing," Angela says. She understands, though. The corporate shackles have been especially hard on Torbjörn. He's used to being proactive with this sort of thing, but now he's required to adhere strictly to legal processes instead. She thanks him profusely anyway, appreciative of how quickly he's worked on this.
"My pleasure, Angela, was an easy job," he says, chuffed. "Anything else I can help you with today?"
Ah, yes. She's been pleasantly distracted until now. Angela sets Caduceus down on the bench and faces Torbjörn with a hopeful smile.
"Actually, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you. It's about one of our new recruits."
"Oh aye?"
"I'm not sure if you have the capacity for any new members – apprentices, even – but I think he'd do very well in this environment."
Torbjörn makes a thoughtful sound as he takes a sip of tea.
"Is that so?" he says then, setting the mug down. "Got a feeling I know who you're on about. That Junkrat fellow, I assume."
Angela nods. "His arm and leg are custom-built, as well as his weapon. And Roadhog's. I think he's quite technically capable."
Torbjörn scratches his beard. "Funny you should say that. I'd thought about it m'self, funnily enough. Had a good chat with him at the Regent. Full of beans, that one. Thought he'd do well in here, but I don't know about his attitude so much. Haven't heard the best of things about his behaviour."
This is unfortunately what she was expecting to hear. Angela sighs.
"Well, I can't speak for the others, but… he actually came by at the weekend to help fix my air-conditioning units. I think he did an excellent job, too."
She clears her throat, a bit embarrassed to have to tell anyone about this. Better Torbjörn than Lena, though. He raises an eyebrow at her.
"Did he now?"
"It was a very kind offer, yes," Angela says, as neutrally as possible. "He knew what he was doing. Apparently he's only a DSA, which is why I'm telling you about it now. I think he deserves an opportunity here in the engineering department, as he's keen to demonstrate what he can do."
Torbjörn narrows his eyes. He's smiling, though, in a way that's making her think he's probably going to agree.
"Opportunities are earned, Angela, not given."
"I know, I know. I just wanted to put in a good word for him, that's all. Perhaps you might see something in him, too."
Torbjörn hums.
"Alright. I'll think about it," he says, fairly. "I know a recommendation from yourself doesn't come lightly."
"I wouldn't waste your time with anything I wasn't sure about," Angela says, hoping this is enough. She thanks him once again before leaving the workshop to head down to training.
She won't tell Junkrat about this. It bothers her that Torbjörn has been put off employing him, whether by Jack, Winston or any one of the higher-ups. It's understandable after the crash, but Angela is pleased that she's put in a good word to counter theirs. She also still doesn't know what Winston said to Junkrat about the whole thing last week – whether it was a warning, a formal warning, or something worse. She'll have to ask him about it when the time is right. Perhaps it might justify another text after work.
Angela checks her watch, filling with excitement. The boys have probably arrived by now. She wonders if Junkrat will be sporting a clean face for her today or if he'll be back to normal, wanting to put up a fight. It feels like so much has happened since they were last at work together. Angela wants to prove to herself that she's capable of carrying on as normal, though she's also privately curious to see how Junkrat will be with her, given their texting yesterday.
There's a mirror in the elevator. Usually she doesn't take any notice of it, but today she looks at her reflection, leaning in to check her makeup. She's flustered when the door opens, alarmed to have caught herself gussying up - but pleased that the extra time spent putting her face on this morning appears to have been worthwhile.
As she thought, the boys are waiting outside the practice range. Angela gives her dress a quick tug to make sure it isn't creased, and when she calls over to them they greet her with a chorus of good mornings.
"Good to see that you all received my email," she says. "And that you're all… suitably dressed, I suppose, considering the weather."
They're dressed not in clean gym clothing but in their combative gear ready for the virtual field training this week. Of the three, Lúcio's clothing seems to be the most practical. It's strange to see Roadhog with his belly out and adorned with all those spikes, but Angela is used to Junkrat being shirtless, as he is again today. He looks filthy, as usual – his clothing as well as his face. She tries not to focus too much on him, instructing all of them on their activities for the morning, but she can't let him join the other two for their warm-ups with such a dirty face.
Junkrat doesn't flinch at all when she procures the usual pack of wipes. In fact he stands there smirking at her with his arms folded, as though he's been waiting for this all along.
"Y'know, I'm only gonna get dirty again," he says, casually. It's such obvious bait that Angela has to bite.
"Well then, I should probably let you go, shouldn't I?" she says, folding her arms, too. Junkrat wasn't expecting this, and immediately shakes his head.
"No no, that's alright!" he says, panicked. He bends forwards then, offering his face to her. "C'mon, have at it!"
She was secretly hoping he'd do this again. Before it was just something fun - a silly game they played - but now it feels different. Intimate. Angela glances past Junkrat, needing to make sure the other two have disappeared off into the gym. She feels very aware of the closeness of their faces, the brightness of Junkrat's impressively clear eyes as they look into hers, and has to remind herself that the whole reason why she's doing this is to ensure those eyes remain clear.
She tuts like she's frustrated and reaches up to dab gently at his face. Junkrat's eyes close when she rubs over them, but they don't screw up like before. If only she felt annoyed rather than elated to know that he's probably enjoying this, too, slow and careful as she brushes over his skin.
"I'm beginning to think you're doing this on purpose," she sighs, hoping it doesn't sound as reverent to him as it does to her. Junkrat snickers.
"What makes ya think that then?" he asks, eyes open again. Angela distracts herself by rubbing a particularly stubborn smear on his forehead. Probably from something else he was tinkering with at the weekend.
"Oh, I don't know," she says, airily. "Just a hunch."
Junkrat grins at her. She's finished now, checking him over when he pulls back.
"Yeah? And what if I was?" he asks her, putting his hands in his pockets.
Something unbearable tugs at her stomach. It feels like he can see right through her, the amber of his eyes warm and intense. She purses her lips, struggling with this unexpected test of willpower, but Angela isn't brave enough to believe that he isn't joking.
"Then I'd tell you that I'd be more impressed if you took better care of yourself," she says, trying to smile, to act normally. Junkrat laughs. It's an unusually soft sound, though, like he's nervous - something else that tugs at her stomach. He's blushing, pulls his metal hand from his pocket to scratch his cheek.
"Don't think anyone could do a better job than you, Angie," he says, a little too gently to be playful.
Oh no, she thinks, wishing he'd reverted back to doc. This wouldn't be nearly so difficult if he had. He seems to glance over her face, then, biting his lip, and she thinks he's going to lean in - when suddenly he frowns.
"Huh," Junkrat says, squinting. "Got something on your neck."
"Wh- What?"
"Here, give us a clean one."
He gestures for a wipe. Angela hands one over, rooted to the spot when Junkrat does lean in, dangerously close. He's still frowning.
"You been painting?" he asks, and her breath catches when he brings the clean wipe to her neck. His touch is gentle even though he's using his metal hand. Angela stares at Junkrat, at his clean face, the freckle on his nose that's suddenly so endearing.
"I – yes, I have," she says, remembering to answer him.
Junkrat pulls back, showing her the speck of cream coloured paint left on the wipe. Angela is relieved that there's space between them again, her crescendo of emotion halted.
"Sheesh, Angie, and you give me a hard time," he says, smugly. "Am I gonna hafta start doing the same thing to you every day now too?"
"I hope not." She means it, heart beating so fast it would be a miracle if he couldn't hear. Junkrat is smirking at her, but he frowns again, more pronounced this time. He sets his hands on his hips.
"Y'weren't actually gonna ask Roadie to help, were ya?"
"What? No!" she says, laughing a bit breathlessly. "Of course not. I was only joking about all of that. And I wasn't painting the walls anyway, just some furniture."
"Oh right." Junkrat's frown eases, something fond in the way he's looking at her now. It doesn't help Angela's racing heart at all. "Well, y'know, anytime y'need a hand at home, it's no trouble for me. Don't like thinking of ya struggling on your own."
"That's very sweet of you, but at this rate I'm going to owe you an entire bar." Angela smiles anxiously, impressed with herself for making a joke, but Junkrat doesn't laugh. He hmms thoughtfully instead.
"Y'know what? I reckon we should go out Friday."
Oh god. "This- you mean this Friday?"
"Sure!" he says, cheerfully. "Why not? Seems like we're gonna be bloody busy this week, a few drinks will do us good!"
Angela panics. Junkrat's offer of having drinks seemed like more of a polite refusal of payment rather than something he actually wanted to do with her – some future agreement that could happen, but probably wouldn't. Suddenly he's making it very real, very soon.
"I- yes, I'm sure Lena and the others would love that!" she says, using the team as a desperate measure to save herself, but Junkrat wrinkles his nose.
"Nah, sod the others! More fun if it's just you and me, right?"
He bares his teeth at her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Just the two of them? As in… a date? Absolutely not, Angela thinks.
"Definitely!" she says instead. Junkrat's eyes widen like he wasn't expecting her to agree to this either. Oh, fuck.
"Bloody hell! Friday it is then!" he says, instantly ecstatic.
"Yes! Let's – shall we discuss it later?" Angela asks, apparently unable to stop herself. Oh, fuck.
"Right, gotcha!"
Well, so much for her self-control. Junkrat looks and sounds so adorably thrilled she almost reaches out and hugs him. Angela just about manages to contain herself, choosing to reach out and awkwardly pat his arm instead, but Junkrat scoffs, gently brushes her hand away.
"C'mere, you," he says then, grabbing her into such a tight and sudden embrace it knocks the breath right out of her. Angela is too flustered to properly hug him back, a flurry of emotions stirring inside her from being pressed against him once more. "I can't bloody wait!"
"Me – ah, me neither!" she laughs, alarmed at the burst of heat this sends through her. Thankfully Junkrat lets go of her quickly. She holds him at arm's length when he does, glancing around and behind him, needing to make sure nobody saw them.
"I think – shall we go and join the others?" she says, still so flustered the words sound stiff. "They must be wondering where we are."
"Oh, yeah, 'course," Junkrat laughs, awkwardly. He looks sheepish, like he's embarrassed for getting so excited, and it makes her feel awful for putting the brakes on his enthusiasm. Angela instinctively grabs his hands to squeeze them – a safe compromise to hugging him again.
"We'll – I'll text you later, shall I?" she suggests. Junkrat brightens immediately.
"Too right you will! Cheers, Angie!"
They share a laugh then, something as nervous as it is excited, and then she's following him into the gym. Angela might as well be walking on air. She must be wearing the most ridiculous smile, too, but she can't help it, can't seem to stop herself. What happened to her self-control? To her professionalism? This wasn't supposed to happen – she was supposed to say no, thank you, and carry on pretending her one-sided crush didn't exist. Not… indulge herself like this. Not have Junkrat ask her on a date!
Gosh, but she can't believe this has happened. That he's really… and just the two of them, too. Angela's heart thrums as she watches Junkrat head over to Roadhog, gesturing like crazy as he gets on the treadmill next to him. Adrenaline rushes through her, a wonderful heat that spreads out from her belly and warms her from head to tie. To think he even thanked her for it - like she was the one indulging him by accepting as opposed to the other way around!
She checks in with Lúcio over by the weights before herding them out to the practice range, needing to get her mind off the fact that she's going on a date with Junkrat. When they're warmed up and ready to start, Angela concentrates as best she can on setting up the virtual training field, trying desperately to stifle her excitement and ignore the fact that her inexplicable attraction is even more inexplicably reciprocated. He wouldn't have asked her if it wasn't. She knows she shouldn't have allowed this to happen, but it's so unexpected and so incredibly exciting that she could just burst!
The virtual field training means they're back in the practice range, wearing headsets that convert the room into a more realistic combat environment. She's supposed to be assessing them as a group - the simulation is set to a higher level than usual to account for their teamwork - but Angela's eyes are continuously drawn to Junkrat. He's giving it his all, laughing as he throws his virtual concussion mines all over the place. While their synergy as a team is great, when the larger omnics arrive on the field Junkrat is at the forefront, jumping around them with his grenades exploding everywhere. He'd have to be more controlled in an actual fight, but in this simulation it's riveting – a spectacular one-man fireworks display.
Angela bites her lip watching him, because it's suddenly so clear to see why he's doing this, why he's putting on this sort of a show. It's for her. He's doing this – he's doing all of this – to impress her.
She thinks about where they might go and all the things they could talk about. How wonderful it'll be to get a little tipsy with him, the banter they'll have. The prospect of another hug, even. God, that alone is giving her shivers. Angela can't risk hoping for anything more than that, but then, if her crush really is reciprocated – and all signs are pointing to that being the case … perhaps, after a few drinks, in the corner of a cosy bar, he might even want to pull her close and-
It's almost lunchtime when an email notification pops up on her tablet, yanking her out of this frighteningly wonderful daydream. It's from Winston. Angela's eyebrows furrow as she reads the preview banner.
Guys – P3 – emergency meeting in 15 please.
Her adrenaline wavers reading this, wondering what's happened. The urgency of it is worrying. A priority three doesn't normally necessitate an emergency meeting.
"Boys, I'm going to have to stop you," she calls out through the intercom, pushing the emergency stop button on her tablet. It's amusing to watch all three of them deflate as the simulation dissolves around them - a sign that they know they've been doing well – but fifteen minutes means there's no time to continue.
"What's going on?" Lúcio asks, when they're in the elevator on their way up to the boardroom. He looks worried, too. Angela suspects he's thinking about Hana.
"I'm not sure, but if it was something we really needed to worry about, Winston would've signposted it with a priority one or two. I'm sure everyone is fine," she tells him, sincerely.
"Thanks, doc," Lúcio says, though he doesn't sound very reassured.
Roadhog is silent. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking with his mask on, but his arms are folded and he seems tense. Junkrat is standing beside him, opposite her. When Angela chances a look at him he's even twitchier than usual, like he's buzzing from a combination of nerves and excitement. Even with the uncertainty of this meeting hanging over her, Angela finds herself feeling the same way, and when their eyes meet Junkrat smiles so easily at her it sends another rush of heat through her body. She focuses on her tablet, afraid of doing anything in an enclosed space like this – even smiling feels too obvious - but she's privately delighted that even now, in this situation, they both seem to want to acknowledge each other.
When they arrive, the rest of the agents are waiting for Winston, talking outside the boardroom door. Lena comes straight over to see her. She addresses the boys too, but Angela notices the way her smile falters when she greets the Junkers.
"You alright, doc?" Lena says then, cheerful despite the tension in the air around them. "How was your weekend? Been meaning to ask what you were doing!"
"Oh, I was just - finally getting my air-conditioning fixed," Angela says. She's aware that Junkrat is standing next to her. He's talking to Roadhog though, hopefully not listening.
"Really! Oh, that's good. Thought you might've been on a date!" Lena says, giving her a playful nudge. Junkrat isn't talking to Roadhog anymore. Okay, he's probably listening. Shit.
"No, no, certainly not," Angela laughs, eager to move away from this subject. She can feel a sweat coming on. "No time for anything like that."
"I know, I know," Lena sighs. "Well, I was thinking – shall we have our catch-up on Friday after work?"
"This – ah, this Friday? I don't think I can," she says, as apologetically as possible. Honestly, the second time she's made plans and it's the second time Lena has suggested doing something with her. This is ridiculous!
"What! You're joking, who pipped me to the post?!"
Junkrat loudly clears his throat. It's probably one of the more subtle things he could do, in truth, but Angela ushers Lena over to the coffee machine anyway.
"I, um - actually do have a date with someone," she says then, quietly. Angela can't quite believe she's saying it out loud, but it feels frighteningly more real now that she has. Lena's eyes widen, a smile breaking out across her face, but Angela shushes her when she eagerly asks who it's with.
"Just – someone I met recently," Angela says, not wanting to lie but nowhere near ready to get into how she's been wooed by Junkrat.
"Good god, doc, that's brilliant!" Lena says, delighted. "What's he like? Not another CEO I hope!"
"No, absolutely not." Angela shudders. She forgot she told Lena about that one, undoubtedly the worst date of her life. Luckily Winston arrives then and calls everyone inside, rescuing her from supplying anymore details. Lena will probably text her later on wanting to know more, but it's a lot easier to construct a text than fumble her way through a vague non-description of Junkrat in real life.
It's unsettling to see three empty chairs around the table. Junkrat isn't sitting next to her this time, but Angela is focused on Winston anyway, as they all are. He doesn't look as stressed as usual, but the resignation in the way he takes a seat speaks volumes for the pressure he must be under. It doesn't bode well for the tone of this meeting.
"What's happened?" Lena asks, before he's had a chance to open his mouth. It's the question on everyone's minds, though. Winston sighs.
"Everyone is safe, before anybody panics," he says. "It's… We thought the situation was controlled, but AI activity in non-AI units seems to be spreading."
As Winston discusses this development in more depth, it becomes clear that Overwatch's intelligence on the matter is almost as limited as it was when he first told them about it. Null Sector's involvement hasn't been guaranteed nor ruled out, apparently, and Russia wasn't an affected location at the meeting prior to this one. All of the outsourced agents are now on active assignments throughout the world, too, meaning the situation is being taken very seriously.
"In light of all this," he says then, "we need to have a slight reshuffle."
Winston's eyes meet Angela's as he says this. Her heart sinks down into the depths of her stomach, already having an idea of where this is going.
"I'm afraid we're going to need to send you to Japan," he tells her then. Angela sucks in a breath.
"Okay," she says, bracing herself. "When? And for how long?"
"We can't give a timescale, but you should be receiving your e-ticket for tonight within the next few minutes."
Ah. Yes. Of course. Things were going too well after all, she thinks, swallowing around the lump in her throat.
"Understood," she says, sure she can feel Junkrat's eyes on her from across the table. She can't bring herself to look at him. "May I ask why?"
Winston pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "We need you to take a look at Genji."
"Oh my god," she says, chest tightening. "What's happened? What's wrong?"
"He's alright, but his suit keeps losing power and no-one out there has been able to figure out why. We're hesitant to say that it's linked to what's going on, as by rights it should be a totally different issue, but we really need you out there with him."
Losing power? Angela frowns down at the table, running through a mental checklist to ascertain what could be causing this. The Japanese support team must've gone through all the necessary triage already if they need her out now, making her panic.
"Can't you give me anymore information?" she asks.
"We'll brief you, but for now just trust me when I say he is alright," Winston tells her, calmly. "Lena, we're going to need you to cover off the rest of training, please."
"Roger that," Lena says.
"We need you in Russia accompanying the others," Winston says, gesturing to Reinhardt, "and Ana will join you out there. Jack, Torbjörn and I will remain here at HQ. The good news is that you three will be getting some actual field experience much sooner than anticipated."
Angela listens as Lúcio and Roadhog acknowledge this. She doesn't hear anything from Junkrat, but she still can't bear to look over at him, keeping her eyes firmly on Winston and trying to fill the gaping disappointment of their cancelled plans with her concern for Genji.
When the meeting ends, the tension between everyone is heightened more than diminished. On their way out Angela glances over, finally catching Junkrat's eye. It's only brief – a moment before he leaves the room – but the disappointment written on his face is enough to ease a little of her own. Looks like he might've been looking forward to their date almost as much as she was, the only comforting thing she can take from this.
When they're all outside Jack is talking to her, asking if she's happy with her accommodation in Japan. Angela answers him, but her mind is elsewhere, somewhere down in the pit of her stomach as she watches Junkrat leave with Lena and the others. He looks dejected, which should make her feel better, but actually it makes her feel worse.
Angela should've expected this. It's a firm reminder of why she stopped pursuing relationships. Whether in or outside of Overwatch, it's inappropriate of her to devote any time to romance, not when work takes priority. For all of Junkrat's eccentric charm and sweetness, it was foolish to get so carried away with him in the first place – she should've known better. This deployment is a good reinforcement of her stupidity. She should be grateful, if anything, to have it all taken out of her hands like this. Now she won't have to worry about her complete lack of self-control.
The rest of the day is a rush, meaning there isn't time to dwell on the sadness pooled inside her. With no idea how long she'll be gone for, Angela only packs her essentials when she's home. She's genuinely worried about Genji, and feels a bit better about her deployment knowing she'll be able to take care of him herself. It's only when she's double-checking her bedroom before leaving that she looks up at the air-conditioning unit - at the sticker on it smiling at her – and finds her heart sinking all over again. She only got to enjoy a couple of days of air-conditioning, too.
When she's back on yet another train to London, heading towards the airport this time and facing an indefinite hiatus from seeing him, Angela opens her messages with Junkrat. She reads over them, kicking herself for wasting what little time they had to have a bit of harmless fun. One date wouldn't have been the end of the world, really. Angela deletes every message she types out to him regardless, not knowing what to say, and she stuffs her phone into her pocket for the remainder of the journey, busying herself reading a long email that's come through from Winston.
Angela probably won't see Junkrat again until Christmas, now. It's a bittersweet feeling, caught between the regret of wasting time and wishing she'd never allowed herself to crush on him in the first place. Nothing she can do about it now, anyway.
The airport is packed when she arrives. Overwatch has already checked her in, so she has some time to kill before the boarding gate is announced. Angela sits down and rummages through her handbag for a mirror, only to put it down when she finds it, remembering that there's no need to check her appearance. Just another crushing realisation – one of many, now that she has so much time to think about all the things she should and shouldn't have done.
Her phone buzzes after she's gone to get herself a coffee. It's 6pm so the boys will have finished for the day, and a bolt hits her, wondering if it's Junkrat. When Angela sits back down and sees that it's actually a text from Lena, she's grateful for the contact nonetheless.
Hey doc, thanks for sending over all the training info earlier. Wish we could've hung out before you went though :(
Me too, Angela texts back, though at least she doesn't have to feel bad about it anymore. I'm sure we'll get another chance soon.
Hopefully. I suppose you've had to cancel your date! I was so excited for you as well! :(
Never mind. It's probably for the best. Work is far more important :)
The announcement comes for her flight. Angela puts her phone away, though it buzzes a couple of times while she's on her way to the boarding gate. She only bothers to check her messages when she's sitting on the plane, alone in her business-class booth waiting for take-off. All the excitement that had drained out of her at lunchtime comes bubbling right back to the surface when she sees that Lena isn't the only one who's texted her, this time.
So then, we still on for Friday? ;)
Hah. Angela smiles helplessly at this.
Sure. How does Kazakhstan sound to you?
Y'know that's just what I was thinking. Heard they do great cocktails :P
She supposes it's better that Junkrat is making a joke out of it. It doesn't help her disappointment, though, imagining what they would've been talking about if she wasn't currently on a one-way trip to Japan.
I could go for an espresso martini right now, to be honest.
Think I need something a bit stronger than that after today lol
Fair point. How's training been?
Uuughhhgh don't ask
Of course – he's been with Lena all afternoon. Lúcio and possibly even Roadhog will have been alright with her, but Angela knows she isn't Junkrat's biggest fan. Hopefully he didn't call her 'your majesty' again.
Just do your best. I know Lena will appreciate the effort if you do. :)
The excitement from Junkrat texting her quickly wears off, leaving her with the worry of Lena's ill-feeling towards him. Angela sits with her phone in hand, waiting for his reply, but it doesn't come for a while – not until they're in the air, over an hour into the journey.
Can't believe you went to these lengths to avoid buying us a few drinks haha
She's carried the heavy weight of disappointment with her since lunchtime. It's a weight that Angela is used to carrying, but it weighs even heavier reading this, cold and hollow in her stomach.
I can assure you, avoiding Friday was the last thing I wanted to do.
Dread strikes as soon as she hits send – not only because this feels too honest, but because of why she's leaving in the first place. Genji's wellbeing is far more important than a silly crush, a fact that has apparently been so easy to forget.
Junkrat is typing. Angela watches, growing more nervous the longer it takes, but then the dots disappear like he's deleted whatever he was writing. Well, she can hardly blame him. What can he say? No amount of reciprocation can change the unfortunately reality of their lives as coworkers – as Overwatch agents so tightly bound by contract.
He doesn't text her again, which is probably for the best. She exchanges a few emails with Winston clarifying the situation in Japan – and more importantly Genji's condition – before putting her phone away. Her brain is in desperate need of a rest, and it's a relief when she wakes up after a couple of hours, surprised to have fallen asleep so easily.
Angela arrives at Haneda airport at rush hour local time. She's relieved to find a company escort waiting for her with a car, allowing her to bypass the busy trains, though travelling business-class means she doesn't feel dead by the time she's dropped off. Her accommodation isn't too far away from the airport - she owns a residential property in Setagaya. It's a holiday home for the few occasions she's visited Japan outside of work, bought using some of her inheritance and funded mostly by the tourists who rent it throughout the year. It's also occasionally used by any Overwatch agents who need a more functional base than a hotel room, and don't want to use the smaller, Overwatch-owned apartments closer to Tokyo's city centre. Those apartments are probably where Jesse and Hana are staying now, as it's been a while since their deployment.
Angela normally loves arriving here, enjoying the space of a big Japanese home in such a tightly packed city, but the emptiness of it serves as another reminder for everything she's left back at home. She wonders if perhaps opting for a smaller apartment with the others might have been better, but as she's already here she may as well make the most of it. The cleaners who came by after the last batch of tourists have done an excellent job, at least, and it looks like the fridge has been stocked up in anticipation of her arrival. It would be more touching if Angela hadn't paid for it, of course, but it's nice to sit on the couch and have a small bite to eat, tablet in her lap as she reads over the immediate plan for her deployment.
Genji is at Japanese headquarters. He's safe and supposedly in good spirits, being monitored in the medical department. Apparently his suit lost power when he and Jesse were scouting out another decommissioned omnium, and while he wasn't physically attacked by anything, he'd taken quite a bad fall as a result. Angela will go and see him tomorrow after she's slept, and then she'll be meeting with Hana and Jesse to discuss their findings so far.
Once her phone is charged and connected to the wifi, Angela receives a flurry of texts. Hana and Jesse have been in touch, as well as Lena and, of course, Junkrat. It's morning UK time – evening in Japan. Junkrat is probably at headquarters by now, ready for his first full day of training with her. Angela replies to all of them, flattered by their concern for her safe arrival, though she saves her reply to Junkrat til last.
Yes, I've arrived. Slept a little on the plane too, so it wasn't too bad. Everything alright back there?
Errrrr well it depends what you mean by alright lol
Please don't tell me something's happened, Angela writes, hoping he hasn't had some kind of accident in the 16 hours she's been out of the country.
Something terrible as a matter of fact, he replies, immediately. She thought he was kidding, a sharp knife of concern cutting through her, but Junkrat sends another message before she has a chance to reply.
You went and bloody well left me here with Tracer :P
Angela heaves a sigh. She understands he's trying to be sweet, but she's frowning as she responds.
Oh honestly Junkrat, you had me really worried!
Junkrat stops typing almost as soon as he starts. It twists her stomach a little, feeling bad for having to scold him but also too jetlagged to agonise over his reply. She puts her phone down and busies herself with a bit of unpacking and a shower, exhausted from what's been a rollercoaster of a day.
Hours later when she's in bed, he still hasn't texted her back. Maybe it really is for the best that this has happened, Angela thinks, looking at her last text to him. Some space might help her feelings settle, and hopefully lessen the disappointment of being unable to see him anymore.
The next morning, Angela is once again on a train to headquarters, though it's a very different train passing through a very different city. Being above ground is a pleasant change to the subway system in London despite being packed in with a bunch of Japanese commuters, and while it's hot and humid in Japan at this time of year, all the trains are air-conditioned. Angela knows headquarters will be similarly chilled, so she's comfortable in one of her usual work dresses on her way in.
There's still no message from Junkrat when she checks, though. Angela distracts herself from the temptation of texting him again by brushing up on some Japanese vocabulary. Soon enough she's at headquarters, signing in and making her way to the medical department. With Genji's concern at the forefront of her mind it's even easier to shelve her feelings, and when Angela finally peeks her head into his ward room, the delight on Genji's face melts away some of the disappointment lingering inside her.
"Angela!" he says, sitting up straight in his bed. She's relieved to see that Winston was correct – Genji's human body doesn't look any different from the last time she saw him, scarred as ever but safe. His cybernetic legs aren't engaged, though. They must have taken most of the damage.
"Oh, Genji, it really has been too long," she says, sitting on the edge of the bed. She smiles fondly at him, warmed by the softness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I have to see you again under these circumstances. What happened?"
"I wish I could tell you. My suit was fully charged, but the main power source failed, and then my reserve battery didn't kick in, either."
Angela frowns. "Had you come into contact with any omnics? You were in a decommissioned omnium, yes?"
He shakes his head. "Jesse and I were alone. No omnics around."
"Alright. We'll get into the details later. For now, though, are you alright?" she asks him, then, smiling.
"Now that you are here," he says, reaching out to touch her hand. He grimaces, trying to smile back at her, but Angela knows this look means he feels ashamed. "Please forgive me for causing you all this trouble again."
"Not at all, Genji. There's nothing to forgive."
She grasps his hand immediately, relieved when Genji's pained expression softens as a result. She's always been especially protective of him, but Angela has poured so much time and worry into his wellbeing that being physical with him like this feels more natural than it probably should. She'll never forget those agonising months spent helping him adjust to his cybernetic body, his physical rehabilitation and training. How difficult a patient he was. The sincerity of his appreciation by the end of his treatment. Nobody else could ever understand what he's been through – what she's been through with him, as a result.
"I'm here now, and I'm going to make sure that the problem is fixed," she tells him. "You don't need to worry."
"Thank you, Angela."
He squeezes her hand back. It's refreshing, actually. She'll always want to protect him, but Genji is probably the only person in the world she can share this sort of friendly and comforting intimacy with, without needing to worry about what other people might think.
She sits with him for a long time, discussing the fall and troubleshooting his condition prior to it. Angela becomes increasingly aware of her jetlag as the morning passes, fatigued from her bodyclock still working on British time. She almost doesn't notice when her phone vibrates, but Angela checks it when she's on her way out of the ward a little later on, needing to collect some paperwork from the doctor who looked over Genji when he was brought in.
Yknow, you're not far from Straya over there. I know a place that does GREAT espresso martinis ;)
She's been so preoccupied with Genji that it hurts to be so abruptly reminded of her last contact with Junkrat. It surprises her that their cancelled plans still seem to be on his mind- and at what must be about 2am UK time, too. She'd started to think he might forget about it. Angela texts back, wondering if he's awake.
Sounds great. Shall we go?
Junkrat starts typing immediately, making her slow down as she walks through the corridor.
If you're still up for it :P
Angela smiles. Maybe it's because she's so tired, but it's reassuring that the disappointment comes flooding back reading this. She'd done a pretty good job of stifling it until now.
Absolutely. Friday, then?
Of course. Pick you up at 7. Don't be late!
The fact that he's even joking about wanting to pick her up makes Angela's disappointment sharpen into something so acute she has to stand still. Somehow, it's taken this for her to feel truly upset about being here, and it washes over her so suddenly that Angela needs a moment to collect herself, take a breath. The sob is there, a lump in her throat on the brink of escaping, but she has no choice but to swallow it down – like she has done every other feeling she's had about Junkrat so far.
I won't be. See you then, she writes. For the first time she puts her phone away hoping that maybe Junkrat won't text her back after this, telling herself that it would be for the best if he didn't.
The week comes and goes. Angela doesn't get around to meeting with Hana and Jesse, all of her time spent either sleeping at home or in headquarters tweaking the software for Genji's suit. She doesn't get upset again mostly because she doesn't allow herself time to think about it, and when Friday evening rolls around and she's on her local train back from work, Angela is wondering what to get from the combini for dinner. She's spent the last few days texting Jesse and Winston, so when her phone vibrates in her pocket, Angela is blindsided to see it's a text from Junkrat. They haven't been in contact at all.
You ready to go? Been waiting bloody ages!
Oh. It's 7pm Japan time. Angela can't quite believe it, but Junkrat has upheld their date after all. Every time she thought about messaging him this week something came up, or she decided against doing so in the hopes that her crush might fizzle out now that she's not seeing him. The excitement she's gotten from this message means that clearly isn't going to happen, though.
Sorry. Couldn't decide what to wear. Ready now. :)
Oh FINALLY lol took you long enough!
Angela bites her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud at this. She pulls herself closer to the pole she's holding onto, allowing her body to sway in line with the train's curvature. There aren't many other people on here but Angela wishes she wasn't sharing this train with anyone at all, wanting to enjoy this moment in private.
Well then. Shall we go?
Course. Looking gorgeous by the way ;)
Angela steps off the train. The sky is dark and the air is less thick now that it's evening, but it's still humid from the warmth of the day, filled with the familiar thrumming of cicadas. The platform is quiet, but she heads over to a vending machine glowing brightly in the middle of it, and stands beside it so she doesn't get in anyone's way while she writes out her response. It's never been easier to know what to say him.
As soon as I'm back we'll do this for real.
He doesn't type for a while. Angela digs in her handbag for a coin, using it to get herself a bottle of ice cold water from the vending machine. By the time she's taken a long swig from it, used the moisture on the bottle to cool her forehead, Junkrat has replied.
Gonna hold you to that y'know. Miss having our Mercy around
Angela's heart squeezes in her chest. It's a pain that she hasn't felt in a long, long time, but it's there now, reminding her that even 9 timezones away it's still possible for her to feel like this about someone.
I'm sorry about all of this. I appreciate your messages, though. :)
Pfffft can't get rid of me that easily haha :P
Clearly. I was worried you might forget about me, actually.
She makes her way off the platform, out of the station. It's been a hard week. She doesn't know what his plans are – it's 10am over there, Saturday now – but Angela will go home, unpeel her clothes and lay beneath the aircon unit in her bedroom. She'll wish there was a smiley sticker on it, and then she'll wish that she really was being picked up, taken to a bar so she can buy him a round of drinks.
Angela stops by a level crossing. A train trundles through it, one of the local ones running from the city. Junkrat replies, then, while she's waiting for it to pass.
Oh come on lol you think I'd forget about you?
He's already typing again. She's still a little jetlagged, but she's thinking clearly, now, more so than she has done in weeks. Realistically it can't work, and she knows that, knows that even though he must feel the same way their date probably isn't going to happen.
As if Angie :P x
Alone on her walk home, though, Angela allows herself to wonder what it would be like if it did. She doesn't feel at all guilty when she then wonders what it would be like if Junkrat kissed her, too, after a couple of drinks in the corner of a bar where it's just the two of them. Not now that he has done already, even if it is just through a text like this, sent from thousands and thousands of miles away.