"Good morning." I was greeted casually the next morning by Ana. She offered me a seat next to her as I ate my bowl of fruit, looking for a spot to sit in. "You're up early."

I'd only been with Overwatch for a month, but just as quickly as I'd established a routine, my higher ups had figured it out. I got up and started my day at seven every morning. It didn't matter what time I had been up till the night before, I was up at the crack of dawn, and ready to face the world by eight. I always wore a touch of makeup, it was a habit I had become quite attached to. A swipe of mascara on my eyelashes was all I needed. Of the few women I saw at Overwatch, I was the only one who seemed to know a thing about makeup.

I owned plenty of lipsticks and eyeliners and brow fillers, my settlement from the German government for my unpaid hours with Mother's organization finally catching up to me. I bought all sorts of things, one them being makeup. I liked to believe I was half decent at dolling myself up.

Another splurge I had used my money to buy myself was my little gold pendant, always hanging from my neck. It was a circular, gold, plate with my initial carved into it, my birthstone hanging next to it. I had bought it for myself one evening when passing a jewelry store, and hadn't taken it off since. Makeup and jewelry reminded me that even though I was an assassin, I was still a woman. I'd come to embrace myself much more after my realization.

Ana smiled at me, she always smiled at me. If Ana was frowning you knew you had messed up somehow. But she was always nurturing and warm hearted, as if she always had your best intentions in mind. I'd come to warm up to Ana, I admired her and all of her hard work. But the one who worked the most, was definitely Captain Morrison.

"How come Morrison never eats breakfast with us?" I asked Ana that morning after some light conversation.

Ana shrugged, finishing off her cup of yogurt. "Jack is always busy, he's Reyes right hand man, and he keeps the team together. He solves internal issues, helps with paperwork, he's the ambassador for Overwatch too." She went on to explain, I listened with great interest.

I jabbed at a strawberry with my fork, then popped it into my mouth. The tart and sweet juices making me enjoy the simplicity of my job. I'd come to appreciate the simple things in life. I heard the door push open behind us, making me turn to see Reyes, the unofficial, sort of official, leader of Overwatch. He was tall, muscular, a physique very similar to Morrison's, I'd figured out they'd been in the American military together, some sort of soldier enhancement program before they had joined Overwatch.

"If those two were on the posters for the American military, I would have joined years ago." Ana cracked a joke. Ana was a huge flirt.

I smiled, shaking my head. "Are you sure you should be saying that about our higher ups?"

Once again, Ana gave a carefree smile. "They can't hear me."

I quickly discovered that Morrison and Reyes were walking towards my shared table with Ana, sitting down and continuing their own conversations like we weren't even there. I felt a laugh quiety find it's way out of my mouth, Ana joining me in my snickering. This seemed to catch their attention, and we quickly silenced ourselves and went back to our breakfast.

Morrison was the first to pipe up after our awkward fit of giggling. "So Clara, Ana was telling me you speak eighteen different languages fluently, is that right?"

I cleaned my throat as I set down my water bottle. "Yes sir, German, English, French, Spanish, Latin, Russian, Swedish, even Korean."

"That's quite impressive, Weber." Reyes complimented.

"Thank you sir." I felt a smile force it's way onto my lips, Ana elbowed me under the table, giving me a thumbs up.

"Any other useful talents we need to know about besides for gunsmith and translator?" Morrison chuckled jokingly, I just continued to grin.

"I wouldn't give myself the title of gunsmith, sir." I remarked, standing up and placing my bowl in the window to be cleaned.

"If you're able to craft a gun on your own, coming up with the blueprints yourself, not to mention figure out Amari's, and my own without even asking the origin of them. I think you deserve that title." Morrison batted away my modesty, I returned to my spot at the table, smiling modestly.

Ana laughed quietly to herself, crossing her arms, she began to pick up her things off the table. "I should be going now, I've got a trip to Egypt in an hour."

I stood as well, picking up my phone and shoving it into my pocket. "It was nice talking with you, Captain Reyes, Captain Morrison." I smiled and turned on my heel, heading for the door to the workshop.

Reyes and Morrison watched me leave, waiting for me to be out of sight before Morrison felt an elbow bump his chest. "Enjoying the view?" Reyes looked at him with a mischievous grin.

Morrison furrowed his brow, then shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "I barely know her." He concluded quickly.

Reyes rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean you can't admire her."

"How am I supposed to gain her respect if I'm admiring her? I'm not a pervert." Morrison waved away his long time friend's idea.

"Does that mean I'm allowed to hit on her?" Reyes asked hopefully.

"She's not your type." Morrison remarked.

Reyes eyed him carefully. "Is she your's?"

Morrison looked over again, looking almost annoyed, he sighed. "If I had a type, sure, now can we stop talking about our teammate like she's a piece of meat, I'm sure this conversation would make her uncomfortable." Reyes chuckled, the two of them taking their things and walking out the way they come in earlier.

I sat at my desk, my cute wooden desk with everything I could ever need in terms of office supplies. I spent most of my days helping Morrison or Reyes with paperwork, which I always completed early and went off to the workshop. Torbjorn, the person who usually fixed everyone's guns, was delighted to have someone to chat with.

It wasn't unusual for Ana to stop by my desk and take a few papers out of my stack. Now that I was the lowest ranking officer, my duties consisted of paperwork and more paperwork. Ana was in charge of patrols, which meant she had it easy. She had made the schedule, and went on a patrol herself every evening at six.

I finished my daily chores, as usual they didn't take very long, and I was free to do as I pleased. I went back to my room, feeling a bit under the weather. It was only noon, and I felt ready for bed. I took my temperature, seeing it sky rocket to 40 degrees celsius. That was all the confirmation I needed to show that I was indeed sick. I sent a message to Ana, then curled up into my blankets, falling asleep.

When I woke up, I could hear quiet talking and a hand laid up against my forehead. My eyes drowsily opened, my face burning hot. I could see Ana, then Morrison, the two of them trying their best to stay quiet.

"Did we wake you?" Morrison took notice of my open eyes.

I shook my head, coughing and sitting up slowly. "No, I don't believe so."

"You look horrible." I could see Ana had returned from her trip, she had a tender look on her face. "I'll call up the doctors-"

"No!" I bursted quickly, shaking my head. They looked at one another, surprised at my outburst. I quickly closed my mouth, looking down silently.

Morrison was the first to speak. "If you're this sick, you need to see some sort of medical personnel."

After what felt like hours of hesitation, I managed a meek nod of agreement. Modern medicine could have me cured in seconds, like nothing ever happened. After a day's recovery, I'd be ready for work. All of this sounded good in theory, but doctor's were horrifying. I didn't hate them as people, I was just freaked out by them more than other people.

Ana was sent off to fetch a doctor for me, most of them stayed in the medical bay below HQ, doing research and such. But a few were always on staff in the infirmary, just for such an occasion. Part of me wish I could just be left to suffer, but the rational part of me knew I couldn't afford to make more of my teammates sick.

I knew I was just going to have to get over my irrational fear. They were world renowned doctors, researching for a cure to cancers and new diseases. I was sure they could give me a pill and the whole ordeal would be taken care of.

"You're scared of doctors?" Morrison asked me, I had almost forgotten he was next to me still. I was at a loss for words, I just closed my mouth and shook my head. Morrison just laughed. "Does it make me a bad person if I don't believe you?"

I sighed, pulling my knees up to my chest. "No."

Morrison ran his hand through his hair, looking away from me momentarily. "I've never seen such a levelheaded, calm, woman jump as quickly as you did with just the word "doctor." Unless they were afraid of one, of course." I was surprised at his word choice for me, calm nor levelheaded sounded quite like me. Quiet and reserved fit more appropriately. I finally decided to each their own, and let it go.

"I'll be alright." I said finally, smiling to the best of my abilities.

Morrison nodded, settling back in his chair and crossing his bulky arms. I raised my brow a bit, expecting him to leave as soon as he confirmed my security. Seeing me wiggle and shy away from a needle or cold hand was embarrassing enough for myself, I didn't want my Commander sitting there watching me do it. Especially over something as childish as being afraid of a doctor.

I jumped as soon as the door opened, a man in a lab coat smiling at me warmly as he shook my hand. I broke out into a cold sweat as our hands came away from each other. I couldn't stop the shaking or slight jittering of my appendages. I hoped it wasn't noticeable, but I knew well that everyone noticed.

"Alright, Weber. You'll be better in no time. Just a simple case of the flu that can be cured in a second." As he spoke, the man in the lab coat pulled out a small, plastic vial. He popped the vial into a syringe and flicked it. "Alright, turn your neck but don't strain it."

"My neck?" My eyes grew wide. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, it was Morrison's and I didn't even have to look to know that. His hands felt exactly how you'd imagine they would, rough enough to show proof that he'd done military service, but warm and gentle against your skin.

I looked at him, and he looked back, his eyes were reassuring and comforting, not a parental comfort, but a trust. I could easily see why he was in charge of everyone, he cared about people. But it wasn't fair to say that Reyes didn't care, he just didn't do as well with domestic issues.

"All finished, rest up for another twenty four hours, and you'll be good as new." I felt a bandage touch my neck, and I turned back to Morrison, color finally returning to my face. He patted my shoulder, standing up and walking towards the door after the doctor I hadn't even learned the name of.

"Follow the doctor's orders, I don't want to see you up until your twenty four hours are up." With that simple phrase, Morrison was out the same way he had come in only a few moments before.

I stared at the door as it slid shut, my eyes wide and bright, and for the first time, I felt heat spread across my cheeks. Warmth that burned my pores like little daggers, there was a heat that added hot colors to my pale flesh, I was blushing. I shook the feeling away, I had no intentions of letting my emotions take control of me in such a way. He was my Commander, he gave the orders, I followed. There was going to be nothing more to it than that.

So I lied in bed, picking up a book and asking for a warm mug of tea. Coffee had never been my thing, but I could manage it after years of late nights and sleepless days as a teenager. Night soon fell over Gibraltar, and I found my own eyes growing heavier once again as my sickness faded to nothing, even though I'd been treated, I'd waited so long to take my medicine that the virus had managed to take its toll on my body, thus explaining my sleepiness.

So, I fell asleep, my head against my plush pillows, my fingers wrapped around my scrap of fabric. I kept it close to my chest, the fraying edges of the embroidery beginning to worry me. But it would stay for years to come, and maybe by the time the memento was on its last leg, I wouldn't need it anymore.