AN: Thanks for the reviews. Remember that they're always appreciated and requests are considered.

Ch. 4

McCree's First Mission: Nineteen Years Ago

Gabriel Reyes

The kid had been quiet for a while. He wasn't into this whole mission thing - that much was clear. Reyes had thought he'd be glad to get out of the HQ. If he was, he didn't show it. He seemed uninterested in the whole thing.

Reyes shifted in his seat of the car. It wasn't exactly something that he was used to. Most of the time they were shipped out in shuttles and carriers, but this was just a car. It was small and held only the four men. They had to blend in as best they could this time. He looked in the rearview mirror, watching Jesse as he sat idle with his arms folded and his hat pulled down to cover his eyes.

"Wake up kid, you're missing the view," Gabriel said. McCree shifted, peeking out from under the rim of his hat.

"Don't care," he drawled.

"You should look," Reyes urged. "It's… nice. A lot of… trees with… an interesting color." McCree snorted.

"You don't care about the damn view, Reyes." The commander chuckled, he was right after all. "And you liking pink tree flowers? Yeah, right. You might care if they were grayscale." Reyes was silent for a moment.

"They would look much better in black," he half-joked. Jesse laughed, shifting so that he was sitting more straight in his seat.

"That's why you aren't Strike-Commander, ain't it? You wouldn't wear that blue uniform?" Reyes grimaced, but he tried not to let McCree see it. Any other person he would have snapped at, but he was trying to build the kids trust. Yelling at him for a wise crack would do the opposite.

"That's why we're called Blackwatch," he decided to joke back. McCree thought that was particularly funny.

Reyes knew that the kid was taking this whole new life thing hard, but he thought that trusting him with this mission would show him what being a good guy was all about. It wasn't that McCree wasn't a good guy. He was light hearted and funny, but also resentful for his position. He didn't hide it from his commander either. He'd straight told Reyes that he hated being forced there against his will. He wanted his freedom, and Overwatch had taken it from him. Still, Jesse recognized it was better than the alternative. He could have been locked up or dead like the rest of the Deadlock gang. Reyes couldn't help but wonder what twisted reality McCree's freedom was. From what he'd seen of the gang's treatment… it wasn't something he'd personally prefer.

Reyes remembered finding McCree lying on the ground grasping the edge of his stomach. He was just a kid – seventeen years old. He'd been shot in the gunfire and was bleeding pretty badly. When Reyes and a few of the other members barged in McCree had put a bullet in both of their brains before the barrel of Reyes' shotgun had persuaded him to cease his attack.

"What are you doing here, kid?" he'd asked.

"I ain't no kid," was his stubborn reply.

"Hell of a shot," Reyes said, motioning to his two dead men.

"Yeah well…" Reyes disarmed Jesse while keeping his gun pointed at him.

"How old are you?" he asked. McCree flinched at the pain in his stomach.

"Old enough." Reyes sighed.

"Old enough to get shot?" When the kid didn't reply Reyes said, "The rest of your gang has abandoned you." McCree was silent once more. "You're going to need medical attention if you don't want to bleed out."

"I don't care if I die," he'd argued then.

"You'll regret saying that once I actually let you," Reyes growled. He didn't live up to his word, however. He pulled him off the ground by his collar and led him back with the other prisoners.

A part of Reyes knew he should just lock the kid up with the rest of them, but something about McCree just hit a nerve with him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't want to let him go down with the rest of the Deadlocks. Jack had told him not to, but Gabriel offered the kid a place among the organization anyway. To his surprise, McCree accepted.

It had been a year of training and nothing had really changed. To Reyes this was a last ditch effort in gaining Jesse's trust and showing him that he did have faith in him. He had to show that nothing bad would happen to him while in the company. He wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't see a change. If McCree messed this up… it was possible Morrison would have to send him to rot in prison with the rest of the apprehended Deadlocks. Gabriel didn't want to see that happen.

It had almost caused a diplomatic incident getting Jesse out of America's judiciary system. It had been a simple task just removing him and sending along a conscription order, but the American's hadn't taken it too well. They wanted the gang charged for all the damage they had caused to the country with their illegal operations. Jack had to do some serious damage control and had taken the brunt of the backlash, all for Gabriel's whim. By the end he and Overwatch had ended up owing a few people a few favors, but Reyes got his recruit. Jack never complained.

McCree had been acting out. He'd tried to run away a few times at the beginning. He'd gotten into a fist fight with a diplomats kid and beaten him senseless over some stupid comment he'd made. He'd gotten drunk and trashed the meeting room at the HQ. Reyes had almost beaten the shit out of him in his rage. He'd tried to straighten him out: scoldings, punishments. When the kid wasn't getting into something he was great, but when he decided to be rebellious… he was the worst. Reyes did see a change, though it was gradual, and it wasn't enough. The people Morrison had snagged McCree from were back on his case. They argued that he wasn't getting anywhere and that if he wasn't going to be worth anything then they wanted to bring him to justice. Morrison was stalling, but he could only do so much.

This was the last ditch effort. Jack didn't think it was a good idea to put so much trust in a kid who didn't want to be there, though.

"This is an important mission, Gabriel," he had warned. "If it fails then we could have a serious disaster on our hands." Reyes leaned over Morrison's desk.

"And you will clean it up just like always," he said, confidently. The Strike-Commander had grimaced. "It's a preemptive reconnaissance mission not an outward assault. It's important, but hard to fuck up."

"Blackwatch can't draw attention to itself." Reyes had just smirked, Jack could argue however much he wanted but Gabe got everything he wanted… for the most part – at least back then.

"I'm good at being discrete," he teased. Jack rolled his eyes.

"You? Since when?" Reyes chuckled.

"I want him to trust me."

"If this goes south…"

"You'll get all the blame as always…" He paused, looking off. "But if it goes right you'll get the praise too."

"Gabe…" Jack tried, but he just sighed and nodded. "Just keep an eye on the kid."

Gabriel's eyes flicked at the reflection of McCree. His eyes were locked on the window, watching the foreign picture pass by. He kept his head straight, so it didn't look like he was taking it all in. He wanted to uphold his uncaring defiant attitude, but couldn't help look at the curiosity that was metropolitan Japan. He shifted, pushing his cowboy hat back a little.

"You look ridiculous, McCree," Reyes said. Jesse's eyes met Gabriel's in the mirror. He huffed.

"You said dress casual," he defended.

"Casual. Not like someone from an old western movie." He snorted.

"Fuck you, Reyes." Gabriel snickered.

"That's Commander Reyes," he corrected, jokingly. McCree just rolled his eyes.

To be honest, the locals might not even think McCree was dressed weird. In fact, that was probably exactly what they pictured when they thought of Americans: jeans, button up shirts, and cow boy hats. No one would find him any stranger than the rest of the Blackwatch team. If anyone stood out among the group it was most likely Reyes himself.

No one was impressed with the safe house they were to be staying in for the duration of the mission. It was this small apartment; one that would allow them to blend in with the rest of the westerners. It was a cramped little place with a tiny little sitting room with little mats on the floor and a tiny little table. The kitchen had a few counters, a refrigerator, and this small Bunsen burner thing.

"I hope you don't want to bake a cake," McCree joked when he saw the lack of an actual stove.

"We'll live," Reyes said.

"This place is a shit hole," one of the other Blackwatch members said.

He was an Englishman trained in sniping. Williamson was his name. He had been with Overwatch for some time, but came from a wealthy background. He had been in the British military before that. What Reyes remembered of him was that he liked to sing – and had a good voice. He also remembered how posh he had to have things.

"I'm sorry princess," Reyes responded, "let me just call room service up to change the décor. You're not in the royal palace, Williamson!" he yelled. Jesse had snickered, enjoying seeing someone else get scolded.

"I think this place is nice," the final Blackwatch member, Hasashi, said.

Hasashi was a native of Japan, and had come along mainly to translate and to keep the foreigners from causing some sort of scene. Not to say that was his only use, he was skilled in espionage and martial arts.

"Of course you would," Williamson replied. "You're used to this shit."

"Shut up," Reyes ordered. He shifted his bag from one arm to the other. "We have two rooms. Williamson you're with Hasashi." He pointed to the door on the far left.

"Seriously? I don't want to have to share a room!" Reyes smirked.

"Then sleep in the bathroom." He looked at McCree. "You're with me, kid."

"Ass kisser," Williamson teased McCree. He made kissy noises.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up," Reyes growled. "I'm getting sick of hearing you talk." Williamson frowned.

"Yes, sir," he said with a sigh.

Gabriel went to his room. It was small just like the rest of the apartment, and was void of furniture aside from two small futons that sat on the floor. There wasn't a very big gap between the mats. The two men might as well be sharing a bed.

He tossed his bag next to the mat near the wall. He liked being in a small encompassing area and always liked being near a wall when sleeping alone. However, he found when sleeping in a bed with another person he liked being on the open side. It was his protective nature. He'd rather be exposed if it meant the other was safe. Part of him considered for a moment taking the bed window so that if an assassin were to crawl in he would be the first victim and Jesse would have time to react while Gabriel was being murdered.

"Window, nice," McCree said as he came into the room. He looked around, taking it in. "This is weird. What's with the mats?"

"They're futons… it's a Japanese bed."

"Looks uncomfortable," he grumbled, dropping his bag next to it. "But I've slept on worse." He flopped down, making it scoot across the wood floor slightly as he did.

"It'll be good for your back," Reyes murmured.

"Everything seems so small here. Maybe cause we're so close to the floor?" Gabriel didn't really feel the need to respond. Instead, he moved back into the sitting room. "Men!" he ordered, turning into Commander Reyes. They came out of their respective rooms. Williamson was bitching about the bed set up.

"I might as well be jumping in the sack with Hasashi," he whined.

"Shut up, for the last time," Reyes growled. McCree emerged scratching the light stubble on his chin.

"Alright. This is a serious mission," he said once he had their attention. "You've all had your briefings before the flight, but I feel the need to remind you since some of us have air between our ears instead of a brain," Reyes looked specifically at the Englishman who scowled. "We are gathering intelligence of the local yakuza sect, the Shimada-gumi. They're trained assassin's and extremely dangerous. This isn't a game and I need you all vigilant at all times. If this goes sour then we're back at square one and that's if we don't tip them off in the process. These guys are a serious threat, and taking them down begins right here, right now. Don't fuck it up. I'm putting my faith in you, and you know how easy it is to break," again Reyes looked at Williamson with dark eyes. His gaze flicked to McCree who for once seemed to be paying attention. "We can do this," he assured mainly the kid. He nodded.

"Right! Let's kick some ass," he said.

"Settle down there, McCree. Stealth is important. No guns blazing." Jesse folded his arms.

"That's kind of my whole thing though, ya know."

"I know, but I'm here to teach you some new skills. Being discrete is one of them."

"This ain't gonna end well, Reyes," McCree said doubtfully.

"You'll do great." He sighed, shrugging and surrendering the battle.

"Kiss ass," Williamson mumbled. Reyes glared at him.

"You really want me to beat you senseless, don't you?" he growled. He shook his head, trying to get his speech back on track. "That being said, you guys might as well get to know the area. We're going to be here for a while. You're dismissed. Go out into the city and take in the sights because work is our upmost priority and you might as well enjoy your tourism when you get the chance. I want you sticking in a group. I don't want a diplomatic incident because you can't order noodles correctly. Hasashi can translate, so don't leave his side."

The group begrudgingly agreed and took off from the apartment, leaving Gabriel alone for a moment of reprieve before the real work started. He went to his room, sitting on his futon and taking a breath. He pulled his phone from his bag. He found the number and waited as it rang. There was a click and the screen lit up, showing that beautiful bright face.

"Gabe," he said, smiling.

"Morning, Jack," Gabriel responded, smiling at the phone. Jack looked tired. His blonde hair was wet and dark, showing he had just gotten out of the shower. He'd been up for about half an hour, doing exercises before cleaning up. Gabriel knew his routine well – even though they hadn't spent the night together in several months. Jack yawned. "Rough night?"

"Reports." Gabriel nodded in understanding. "How's it going over there?"

"It'll be great if Williamson makes it through the night."

"What about McCree?"

"He seems… enthusiastic to be here – to say the least."

"Right. I'm glad he's getting along… for now, anyway." Gabriel nodded, looking down. They didn't talk about anything but work anymore. "I don't need to remind you how important this is."

"You don't."

"If…"

"I know the stakes, Morrison." Jack frowned. Gabriel rarely called him by his last name, but that rarity was becoming more common. "I don't need your lectures."

"I know – I'm sorry." Gabriel nodded.

"Right." He paused. "It's okay."

"Sometimes I forget how well you understand the burdens of command." Gabriel had to stop himself from glowering. He didn't answer. "Hey, Gabe, I need to get to it. Enjoy Japan! I can't wait till you get back." He smiled warmly, his blue eyes shining even through the screen. Still, Gabriel doubted it.

"Yeah," he said. "We'll get it done."

"I didn't say…"

"I know you didn't." There was a second of silence.

Jack sighed, "I love you, Gabe," he murmured. Gabriel looked at the screen. He nodded. He knew, but it didn't mean as much as it once had.

"Me too," he said. Jack frowned, but didn't say anything. "I'll call you later – give you an update."

"I'll call you later… just to talk." Gabriel smiled. Sometimes Jack did try.

"Good," he said. "Bye, boy scout." Jack chuckled.

"Bye, Gabe." He waved and then the screen went black.

Reyes sat the phone down next to the mat. He sighed, draping his arms over his knees and hanging his head. Things were complicated between Jack and him. Being in a different country wasn't helping anything either. Duty was first, though. It was always first…

Jesse McCree

Reyes had told them he wanted them to stay together in a group. McCree hadn't exactly listened. It wasn't like he'd split from the group on purpose. He'd just kind of wondered off expecting them to follow. He was hungry and Williamson just wanted to flirt with the pretty foreign girls. They didn't know what he was saying, but they did giggle at his stupid boasts. Hasashi had been translating, but Jesse assumed it was probably wrong. If he was the translator, McCree would have definitely been telling those girls that Williamson had a small penis or something. Unfortunately, Hasashi was too nice of a guy. McCree had been getting annoyed at the Englishman's flirting.

"I'm hungry," he had groaned, leaning against the wall with a furrowed brow.

Williamson just responded, "Shut up, kid, the adults are playin'." The irony was the girls he was targeting were probably about McCree's age.

"Fine, dick, I'm goin' to get me some food – you have fun." He had moved to leave.

"What? You don't like foreign ladies?" he'd asked.

"I don't like starvin' to death," was his annoyed answer. "C'ya." He walked away.

"Jesse, wait!" Hasashi was calling after him, but ultimately never made chase due to Williamson holding him in place by his shirt.

McCree didn't care. He didn't need a babysitter. He ended up wondering around Hanamura. He walked around aimlessly, glaring at signs he couldn't read and peeking into shops to see if there was food. Eventually he came up to an arcade. It was one of those old fashion places with cabinets and stuff. It wasn't something McCree expected to see. Next to it was a little noodle shop. He could tell because there was an English sign above the door that said ramen. He sighed in relief.

"Food," he groaned, holding his growling stomach.

He wasn't exactly sure how… the place worked. He recognized that it definitely wouldn't be like in America, but he'd ditched his translator and didn't have much choice other than just winging it. He just hoped the lady at the counter could speak a little bit of English cause he didn't know one ounce of Japanese.

He went inside, scratching the back of his head under his hat. He walked awkwardly to the counter where a few men were sitting and eating ramen. He wasn't sure if that was where he was supposed to order or what, but he didn't see anyone else to talk to.

"Uhhh, hi there, ma'am," he stuttered. "Do ya speak English?" She blinked at him in confusion then said something in Japanese. "Look, I really don't know what I'm doin' here – I'm just hungry and want some food." She cocked her head in confusion, saying something else in her native language. "I don't know what yer saying." He sighed. "You don't know what I'm sayin'." She made a few gestures towards the food, saying something intelligible. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "I want food. I'm hungry." He waved at the pots behind her. She said something – it was phrased like a question but he had no idea as to what it was. He was starting to get irritated. It wasn't the girls fault, but he couldn't help it that it was a frustrating situation. Surely, someone in the building had to be able to speak some English. No one moved to help him, however. "Fucking Williamson," he growled aloud, since no one could understand him anyway. "Taking away my translator." He wanted to go back and kick his ass, but he wasn't quite sure where he was or where they would be. He was lost in a strange country without any guidance from anyone. He sort of regretted storming off from the group. He decided he would try to gesture he way through the conversation. He placed his hand on him stomach saying slowly, "I'm hungry." He waved towards the pots behind her. "I want food." He waved towards his mouth. "So that I can eat." He shook his head once again placing his hand on his stomach. "And not be hungry." The woman stared at him blankly. She hadn't understood in the slightest. Jesse sighed. "Fuck. I can't speak Japanese." He slammed his hand into his face and groaned. "Fuck," he whined.

He was contemplating how he was going to get his point across when a hand grasped his shoulder. At first it was a light touch, but then it tightened into a squeeze. He was pulled back slightly away from the counter. A man pushed passed him, placing his hands on the counter. McCree looked at him in shock.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed, glaring at the guy's shiny black ponytail. "That was fucking rude! Asshole," he hissed in the man's ear. The man spun around. Deep brown, stoic eyes glared into Jesse's. The dark look almost froze McCree. His breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn't look away. He was stunned, and he wasn't even sure why.

"Shut up, you ridiculous American!" he yelled. McCree was even more taken aback. This guy could speak English? He turned back to the woman behind the bar and began to speak with her in Japanese. She smiled at him, touching his arm in familiarity. She turned from the two and began spooning noodles into a bowl. The man turned around. He looked at Jesse with an unamused expression. "She is getting you some ramen," he grumbled. Those eyes stared into Jesse's soul, but he tried to ignore the knot in his stomach.

Jesse finally got a good look at the man, breaking from his eyes. He was young – couldn't be any older than McCree himself. His hair was dark black – like raven black – and sleek like silk, tied back behind his head. Jesse kind of wanted to touch it. He was dressed in what McCree thought of as… traditional Japanese garb – though he wasn't too sure of the official name. It was orange and had two swirling dragons around an orb on the chest. He was… pretty… really really pretty, and that wasn't a word Jesse really used to describe men. It kind of confused him, but in a good way.

"You translated for me?" he asked, shaking off his awe.

"I would not call that translating," was his disgruntled reply. "I cut out all the yelling and curses." McCree chuckled, though he was pretty certain this man wasn't joking. He scratched the back of his head semi-nervously.

"Well, either way I'm much obliged." He tipped his hat. The guy just huffed and looked back at the server as she sat the bowl on the counter. She smiled, looking at both of the men. She said something in Japanese and he replied in manner. He looked back at McCree.

"She wants your payment," he said.

"Oh, right!" McCree plunged his hand into the pocket of his jeans and dug around, foraging for some money. He pulled out five wrinkled and torn dollar bills. He looked at the faded green notes and said, "Uh, will American money do?" The guy answered with the sexiest eye roll that McCree had ever seen.

"No, it will not do," he growled. He turned back to the woman. He said something in their native language to her and then sat some coins on the counter. He motioned towards McCree and then back towards the food. He nodded when she asked a question and then motioned back towards the pots behind her. She smiled a wide smile and turned away from him, scooping some more ramen into a bowl. The man snatched the bowl from the table and offered it to Jesse. "I paid for it," he said. Jesse blinked.

"I can't let ya do that."

"I already did. I would suggest getting some money of your own." McCree offered him his worn usd currency, but he shook his head. "That is not necessary," he paused, "and also useless to me." He gestured to the bowl with his free hand. Jesse shoved the money back in his pocket and took the bowl. The man was careful to not touch him.

"Now I'm really obliged," he said. "I wish I could pay you back, and I'm sorry about the yellin' earlier. I didn't think anyone could understand me anyway."

"They can still hear your tone," he reminded the cowboy. Jesse nodded.

"Riiight… I'm a lil' out of my element."

"That is a painfully obvious truth." The man turned from him, crossing his arms and watching the woman fix his food. McCree was unsure as to what to say, but a part of him didn't want to just walk away. He kept standing there, staring at the back of his beautiful head for a reason he couldn't quite rationalize to himself. After a moment, he turned back, food in hand. He looked at Jesse with a questioning gaze. "Is there anything more?" he asked.

"No, I mean…" he wasn't sure what he meant, honestly. "Would you… like to sit with me?" He motioned to two empty stools. The man raised one perfect eyebrow at the question. He looked around the room, absorbing his options.

"Considering there are no other seating options – I will have to accept," he said. Jesse smiled despite the callous answer. To be fair, he'd been a bit of an asshole since he'd appeared, but McCree didn't really mind.

The two men walked to the open stools, sitting side by side. The man didn't really say anything. He sat his bowl on the table and wound his noodles around his chopsticks deftly. He took a bite. Jesse just watched. He observed how his fingers moved, holding the wooden sticks like they were an extension of himself. He got the feeling that this man was perfect with everything he tried his hand at. He had an elegant swiftness that was almost enchanting. It was precision Jesse had never seen before. The man moved, brushing back a few strands of free raven hair from in front of his face and sweeping them behind his ear. He caught McCree's gaze from the corner of his eyes and turned his glare to him.

"Why are you staring?" he asked. McCree scratched his neck.

"I'm just tryin' to figure out how you use those things," he said, shrugging. The guy turned back to his food.

"Easily," he murmured. McCree smirked at the answer.

He turned to his own food, picking up the unfamiliar cutlery. He stared at it for a moment. He tried to fit it in his hand correctly while maneuvering them to pick up the ramen. It wasn't going well for him, however. The noodles kept slipping from the chopsticks and flopping back into the bowl while Jesse struggled with trying to move them. He tried a different approach, holding the two sticks together and trying to slip the food underneath. It worked a bit, but it was hard to get it in his mouth. He grumbled, unable to conquer the foreign utensils. Finally, after a few tries he gave up. He picked the bowl up to his mouth and slurped the ramen, trying his best not to be too loud. His companion still glared at him with those unbearably gorgeous eyes.

"I am not surprised," he said, shaking his head. McCree chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which was met with a cringe.

"You're funny," he said.

"I am not trying to be."

"Nah, but that's a good thing, right, being funny without tryin'?"

"If you say so." McCree thought for a moment, trying to decide what to say next. He remembered something.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. The name's McCree – Jesse McCree." He held out his hand as if to shake, turning in his stool to face his new friend. The man looked at him for a moment, as if considering something.

"Hanzo," he said after a second, bowing his head slightly in a form of greeting. He did not take Jesse's offer to shake. McCree dropped his hand.

"Got a last name?" he asked.

"Yes."

"That's a pretty last name." Hanzo glared at the cowboy, his eyes burning into him. "That was a joke." He turned away.

"I do not think it was." As far as McCree was concerned it damn well could've been his last name.

"Do you live around here?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yes."

"Is there anything interesting to do, ya know, somethin' for a tourist?"

"I am not a tour guide."

"Right, but ya gotta know some things." Hanzo spun towards him.

"Do you ever stop talking?" he demanded. McCree shrugged.

"Not really," he said. The guy was cute but he definitely wasn't friendly.

There were a few minutes of silence between them – though Jesse was sure that was how Hanzo preferred it. He resumed slurping his ramen whilst Hanzo delicately ate his. McCree wasn't sure if there would be any further conversation between them.

"Indulge me, McCree," Hanzo said to Jesse's surprise.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"How did you manage to stumble in here with no money and no knowledge of how to properly communicate your needs?" McCree looked off sheepishly.

"I kind of was part of a group. One guy, our translator, had all the money and I got separated from them."

"How?"

"I just walked off." Hanzo gave him a look of judgment. It was as if he was calling him an 'idiot' with his eyes. "I know – I know. It was a dumb thing to do. I just don't like my friends very much."

"Would poor company not be preferable to being lost in a foreign country alone?" McCree shrugged.

"Maybe, but where's the adventure in that?" He half smiled at his new friend. Hanzo looked at him critically, but then his mouth upturned lightly as if to give a slight smile.

"That is an admirable point of view – one that I am envious of." There was a tone in his voice – like bitterness. McCree was a bit surprised by that admission.

"Really? You don't get much adventure?"

"Not… of my own accord." There seemed to be a lot more loaded into that statement than McCree could really read. He seemed a little sad. Jesse frowned.

"Well, why not?" Hanzo just kind of looked down, taking a bite of his food. It didn't seem like he wanted to answer. So Jesse said, "Ya just need the right person to find some with, I guess." He smiled at him, assuring. Hanzo stared into McCree's eyes, a confident look. A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. He looked away.

"That sounds exciting, but not realistic," he said.

"I don't see why not."

"You would if you knew me."

"I can always get to."

Hanzo stood abruptly. He shook his head, not looking at McCree as he said, "That is not a good idea." He stepped away from the counter, urgently. "I must be going. Good day." He turned to walk away.

"Hey, wait!" McCree called. He jumped up. Hanzo froze, glancing over his shoulder back at the cowboy. His intense eyes made McCree shiver. He bit his lip. He had to regain his thought that the look caused him to lose. "I just… I wanted to thank you again for helping me and for buying me dinner."

"You are welcome," he said gently. He gave him a nod. "Good bye." Hanzo retreated from the noodle shop, disappearing into the distance.

McCree finished his food. He cleaned up the bowls and left the restaurant. He was then faced with the issue of not knowing exactly where he was. He had wondered rather aimlessly and hadn't paid attention to where he'd ended up. It had been about an hour since his departure and there was no telling where his teammates had went. His best bet was to find the apartments.

He wondered around the area, moving down the street. He noticed a big fenced off mansion in the distance. He wasn't sure how he'd missed that when he'd first approached. It was large and looked like a traditional Japanese palace. He approached it, looking up at the big fence. What an impressive place. He stood there, looking around for a few minutes.

He noticed the seal on the front gate: the two dragons swirling around an orb. It was the same symbol that had been on Hanzo's clothes. He wondered if this was his home, or if the symbol meant something specific.

"There you are, Jesse!" an accented voice called out. Jesse looked over to the two approaching men, his teammates.

"We thought you'd went AWOL," Williamson said.

"Just hungry," Jesse assured.

"We were getting worried we'd have to go back and tell Reyes we'd lost you." McCree squinted.

"I'm glad you were so concerned about my well bein'," he said sarcastically.

"Right. Don't run off like that again, kid, or I'll kick your ass." McCree rolled his eyes. He could take him.

"We should get away from this place before we are spotted," Hasashi warned. McCree looked over at the gate.

"Why?" he asked. Williamson gave him an 'are you serious?' look.

"This is the yakuza base of operations, dumbass. If you paid attention in briefing you'd know that." McCree looked back at the place feeling a little concerned. His mind flickered back to his new friend – that had paid for his dinner. It focused on the seal that was on both the gate and his clothing. That couldn't be a coincidence.

"That's not good," he murmured.

"What?" Hasashi asked. McCree pointed to the swirling Dragons.

Was Hanzo a part of the Shimada clan mafia? He was young – couldn't be older than twenty. How could an arguably nice (really not so nice but nice enough to help a poor tourist) guy end up in the mafia? What was going on here?

"I," McCree paused, "I met a guy wearing that symbol. I think he's part of the yakuza."

"You talked to him?!" Williamson asked, irritated.

"Yeah. We had dinner together."

"You dumbass! They could already know we're here!"

"It's not like I introduced myself: Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reconnaissance. I asked him about interesting places nearby and couldn't speak a lick of Japanese. He thought I was a tourist!"

"You could have blown the whole thing, idiot!" McCree was getting frustrated.

"Why don't you take a load off and calm the fuck down!"

"He's right," Hasashi said. "We need to return to Commander Reyes so that we can let him know our cover could be compromised. We should lay low and watch for suspicious activity."

"Y'all're overreacting," Jesse said, rolling his eyes.

"We're just being careful, Jesse," Hasashi said. He waved at him to go. "Let us get back quickly."

Williamson and Hasashi started back to the apartments, but McCree lingered a moment longer. He looked back at the dragon seal on the gate. He blinked, wondering if he really had already ruined the mission. He wasn't sure if he cared. Maybe it would be good enough cause for Reyes to throw him out. As he moved to follow the group his thoughts turned to Hanzo. He pondered if he really was a yakuza member, and if that was the reason why he had spontaneously left. There was something… special about him, and a part of McCree wondered if he would ever see him again. He hoped so.

AN: This is going to be one of the three main plot lines going on simultaneously. Again, I hope it doesn't get too confusing.