AN:
Jerico: It's called being an unemployed student ;)
Nathan never liked getting up in the mornings. He always found it such a chore to even muster up the inclination to get up from bed, to not immediately fall asleep the second he woke up and plopped his head onto a pillow, again. A struggle to even keep his eyes open when he barely felt conscious. His eye-lids staying shut of their own accord, barely able to do anything about it. Not even the sunlight had much of an effect on him, and he hated the morning sun.
Nonetheless, he was able to sit up along the edge of the bed, but not immediately getting off. Drowsiness still racked his brain and he rested his elbows on his knees while he sat there, stirring in his own tired thoughts. His vision as if his eyes were glossed over. Trying to feel anything else but exhaustion. As if waiting for himself to miraculously get a boost of energy and finally start his day. It used to be relatively easier for him to get up early and get a move on – easier to happily and willingly do it, as well – but it probably was his older age catching up to him. Among other things.
Wallowing in his fatigue a little longer, he looked up from the floor and could see the room more clearly. The numbing sensation in his eyeballs now gone, for the time being. One step closer to being ready for the day and get back to the Watchpoint to… Do what?
His tired thoughts were disturbed as he heard yawning and felt the bed shift behind him. A set of arms wrapping around his stomach.
"Buenos días, sleepyhead," María greeted, propping herself on her knees and leaning her nude body against his back. Only able to rest her head at the nape of his neck.
"Mornin'," James greeted back, wiping more of the drowsiness from his eyes.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked, adjusting herself and hugging him tighter.
"Yeah. You?"
"Muy mucho."
"Hmph."
Nathan sat up and stretched, his arms going high into the air as he could feel and hear his joints pop and his muscles tighten. A few involuntary groans of comfort escaping his mouth. Finished, he sat there and felt the warmth of her body radiating through his back and the mildly cold hotel room air touching his front. The cozy, temperate condition of the hotel room almost made him not want to get off the bed.
Groaning in mild frustration, he was about to stand up from the bed to retrieve his clothes. He was impeded when he felt the arms around his abdomen tighten.
"Going somewhere?" as if she had to ask.
"Yes. Work," he simply answered, reaching down and gently trying to pry her arms from him. She only doubled her efforts.
"Aww, can't you just stay a little longer, por favor? We can talk a bit more."
"We talked plenty last night."
"A bunch of groans and moans barely qualifies as conversation. Come on, you seemed really stressed when you came to me last night and haven't said anything. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it or at least relax a bit more?"
The bed moved more as María got to rest her chin on his shoulder, prompting him to look back and regard those purple eyes. The lights on her cranium casting a glow onto his head.
While he was certain it wouldn't be a good idea to just talk about his problems considering they were of a delicate nature, the thought of just staying here a bit longer was being entertained. The feeling of her body pressing up against him while they were both in the nude and on a comfortable bed not making it easy. His sex drive about to get the better of him as he felt a little firm.
Aside from that, it wasn't like he was being pressed into going back to the Watchpoint. There would be no mission, no objective, and no task waiting for him there. No real rhyme or reason other than making sure they know he isn't missing and that no one has messed with his stuff. Maybe to check on Bastion and Ganymede, see how they've been faring. Seeing what new experiments he was being an assistant to this time. Probably something for him to do.
"Maybe later," he answered over his shoulder. "Right now, I'm going to be late."
"Umm, it's 11."
Nathan looked at his Pip-Boy, seeing it indeed was half-past 11 in the morning. Much later than he had intended to sleep in.
"Ah, shit," he cursed, finally getting her arms off him when he stood up from the bed. Retrieving his clothes off the floor.
María frowned when he had finally escaped her grasp but rolled her eyes as she let him go forth with his business. At least, for the meantime.
"Fine!" she groaned, mumbling in Spanish as she flopped onto the bed and reached for her phone. "I might not be here if you come back, though. Mi jefe está en mi culo, otra vez."
"Can't blame him," Nathan remarked, watching the Latina lay on her side with her augmented back to him, giving a nice view of her ass.
Finding and putting on his boxers, shirt, and pants were easy enough even if they were scattered all over the room. However, as he tied the laces of his boots and got ready to return to the Watchpoint, he felt he was missing something but couldn't quite place what. He patted his pockets, finding his pocket knife, lighter, and pack of smokes where they should. His aviators on the counter right next to the bottle of whiskey they shared. And his Pip-Boy obviously still latched to his left arm. After patting his pockets a few more times but feeling his pants a bit lighter than they should, he realized that he was missing his sidearm.
"Oh, Goddammit," he muttered under his breath as he began searching for his weapon, more anxious than he was just a second earlier.
"Looking for this?"
Nathan spun around to see the Latina lying on her back and holding his SIG in one hand while she held what looked like a metallic cigarette in the other. She examined the sidearm, the barrel pointed to the ceiling, as she locked her lips around the butt and inhaled. The sound of air rushing through the device as she breathed. Then letting go and puffing out a large white cloud from her mouth. The smoke wafting in the air before dissipating like vapor. If the Wastelander was being honest with himself, that sight was kind of hot. Would've been hotter if it was a cigarette or cigar, though.
"That ain't a toy, you know," Nathan firmly stated, walking over to her side.
"I know," María shrugged, turning the pistol around and showing her finger was straight and off the trigger. "Which means you shouldn't leave it around like one."
"Point taken."
"Still, not a bad choice. A bit of an old design, but it still works."
"You know guns, now?"
"I know enough to be safe with them," she answered, flipping the gun on its axis, and having the barrel point away from her muse as she handed it to him.
Nathan grabbed it and made sure she hadn't messed with it before sliding it into his holster. However, he became enamored by the fake-cigarette she was taking drags from. Enough for her to notice and hold that one out to him.
"Want a hit?" she offered cordially.
Not above trying anything new, he grabbed the little stick of metal in-between his thumb and index finger and wrapped his lips around the metal butt. Giving a long, drawn-out pull and feeling his lungs get filled, he expelled the vapor from his mouth and nostrils. It wasn't as strong as a cigarette, but it gave him a little sense of euphoria.
"Is this water vapor?" he asked, coughing a bit as he felt it get moist inside.
"Uhhh… Sí. It's a vape, dude," she answered, curious as to how he never heard of a vape if he smokes cigarettes constantly.
Nathan started clicking his tongue, tasting a fruity and sweet aroma in his mouth.
"What's in that?"
"Watermelon flavor."
After getting his sidearm back and taking a quick sip of the alcohol that was still left, Nathan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, but not before turning around and regarding María.
"Have fun at work," the Logistics Analyst wished, grabbing his head, and bringing it down to give him a kiss. Tasting the whiskey and watermelon.
"Yeah, right," the Courier replied, unable to hold back that smirk as soon as they separated.
With that, she shut the door and he started walking through the hall to the exit. His morning buzz more bearable when he got to the elevator doors.
Taking them and reaching the ground level, he stepped out when the doors opened and was making his way through the hotel's main lobby. Seeing a lot of people around and trying to make his way through the area quick. Not wanting to draw any attention to himself, just get through the lobby unnoticed and incognito. Not that he was doing anything suspicious, aside from being taller than most people and having scars all over his body. Thankfully, nobody seemed to care in crowded places like these.
"Oi, there you are!"
When they didn't know him, that is.
Looking to his right, he saw Lena sitting in one of the lobby chairs with a backpack next to her on the floor. The chair big enough for her to cross her legs while she held her phone. A baseball cap was smothering her spiky hair with a pair of aviators over her eyes, most likely to remain incognito in public.
"Oxton? The hell are you doing here?" Nathan clearly surprised to see her here.
"Well, that's a nice way to say hello," the Brit commented, taking her earbuds out. "Came here looking for you, you knob."
"Why?"
"Because you've been missing all last night. Athena's been worried sick about you!"
"She doesn't have to, I'm fine. I was just…"
"Off shagging the nightlight?"
"…Yeah, what else would I do? Would you like me to give you an 'after-action report'? Details are pretty repetitive."
"Really? Cause I'd imagine reading it might put me to sleep."
"I can give you a timestamp for the climax."
"Ugh, let's just go, already! Before somebody hears us."
"Yes. Let's. Or else they'll notice the person wearing sunglasses indoors."
With Lena hopping off and grabbing her backpack, the two headed to the lobby's exit and made it out of the hotel without a scratch.
Now, they were out on the Gibraltar streets and heading back to the Watchpoint. Nathan wearing his aviators, too, as the day was bright and sunny. The ocean currents blowing a cooling breeze onto the land. Would've made a nice stroll if it wasn't for the taller man naturally setting the pace with his gait and forcing Lena to walk faster just to keep up. Other than that, they couldn't really complain.
"Anything happened while I was gone?" Nathan asked, now fully wide awake with the sun on him.
"Yes, actually, our little 'bellboy' had the absolute shit beaten out of him," Lena somberly recounted.
'Oh… Right,' the Courier then remembered what had happened the night before without a serious hangover to impede his memory. "Ah, shit. When?" he then asked aloud, acting oblivious to the incident.
"Last night. He's in the infirmary right now and we're trying to figure out who the attacker was."
"Wouldn't he know?"
"He said it was too dark when it happened, and he couldn't get a good look. Not to mention his face being messed up."
'Good,' the Courier thought to himself, before speaking. "I knew keeping his ass here would've brought nothing but trouble. Now what?"
"Everyone thought it would be best to keep him in the Watchpoint, for now. Watch over him. Fareeha even suggested keeping him in his cell just to be sure. Ana was able to convince her otherwise."
Lena's face became sullener after she said that, one corner of her lip twisting. Nathan noticing the silence as he glanced at her.
"You… Alright?" he slowly asked.
"I dunno, I guess I feel a bit bad for him after what he's gone through, even if he still technically is a part of the enemy," she admitted. "He isn't even a soldier, just somebody whose job was more of the technical stuff."
"Aside from all the spying he did," Nathan was quick to remind the Overwatch agent.
"Right, but it still sucks what happened to him. He hasn't really hurt anyone here. Been quite pleasant to talk with despite appearances. Kinda like you."
What she had said almost made Nathan stop in his tracks, but he only cast another glance as he kept walking alongside her.
"Sure. I'm just surprised he didn't get his ass beaten, sooner. Especially by any of us," he replied but wanting to switch the topic of the conversation to anything else. "So, why'd you come?"
"What?"
"I mean, why specifically did you come to the hotel to retrieve me? Seems like it would've been more convenient to send someone else. Maybe even the Kid."
"Hana?"
"Yeah, her. Did Athena or Winston ask you to do this?"
"They didn't really ask me. I just volunteered when they asked if anyone could."
The word "volunteered" made him squint, hidden beneath his glasses.
"Oh… How did you find me, then?"
"Wasn't hard asking around and seeing if anyone saw 'a tall, bearded man with a lot of scars and a weird thing on his forearm'."
"Really?"
"Actually, I just went straight to the hotel since I saw you go there before. Obviously, I know why."
"Of course… How's Emily, by the way?"
They walked through the rest of the city together, still chatting and talking as they did. Even continuing to talk to each other as they began to scale the mountains and up towards the "condemned" surrounding area and perimeter of the Watchpoint. The seasoned Wastelander having an easier and more pleasant time scaling the mountainside than the short Briton. By the time they had gone through one of the many "entrances" of the base – a large enough hole in the chain-link fence – they were still in the middle of a back and forth regarding Nathan's girlfriend. The subject destined to be brought up, again, even after his attempts to prevent it.
"I'm just trying to understand why you seem so interested in what's between me and her. Should I let Emily know or…?" Nathan asked, joking as he brought up her girlfriend.
"I just don't like her, mate. As simple as that," Lena answered, shrugging. "She doesn't strike me as someone I would get along with."
"Not a fan of purple hair?"
"Hah! You should've seen me when I was younger. I'm pretty sure my hair had more artificial dye in it than hers."
"Not even that would bring you two together?"
"Nope. And I don't really care who you drain your bollocks into, that's your business, but I can't help being a little miffed when she's around. Knowing she's taken you for a muse."
"Well, I understand the sentiment, but at the same time, the sex ain't half bad."
"You've got your standards in order, mate."
Nathan smirked, fully aware of the irony and how he wasn't really in a true relationship. At a point where he didn't really care and just needed an "outlet" to distract himself from everything else. It wasn't complicated. The Courier was still human, after all.
However, that smirk went away when they both heard jet engines and watched as one of the ships flew overhead. Heading towards the West.
"That's odd…" the Pilot observed. "There wasn't any mission scheduled for today. Looks like something came up. Wanna go ask what all of that was about?"
"I think I'd rather go to my room and start sorting things out," Nathan tiredly declined. "I've been meaning to do that, and I'm finally on leave. You go ahead; Tell me what it is, later."
"Okay, then. See ya'!"
The Brit saluted with two fingers before blinking away further into the base. Brin watching her blue streaks flash in front of him until they were gone.
With everything quiet, again, Nathan silently walked back to the Residential Wing.
In only a few minutes, he had reached the door of his personal quarters. Finding the door itself to be spotless and without any decorations or notes taped onto it. Taking a step forward, the door slid open and he walked into his room to find it unoccupied, with all his things where they were when he left the night before.
As soon as he set foot inside, the window became more transparent to let in the Mediterranean sun.
"Good afternoon, Nathan," Athena greeted him.
"Afternoon, Athena. How are things?"
"I am doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?"
"Invigorated, I guess," the Waster admitted.
He then walked over to the office chair at his desk and plopped down onto the seat, making it creak under his weight. His ass welcoming the comfy cushion.
"Lena told me what happened when she came to pick me up. Sorry I got you worryin'."
"It's all right, Nathan. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You left rather abruptly last night. Is everything still fine?"
"Yes, everything's fine. I just needed to visit that 'friend' for the night."
"By visit, you mean to have a sexual rendezvous, yes?"
"Yes. Exactly that."
"Did you use protection?"
"Yes, I never leave home without it. You're starting to sound like my mom, Athena."
"I just want to make sure. It would be rather unfortunate to have to refer you to Dr. Ziegler if you had contracted something."
"Would be even worse if I ended up knocking someone up. I haven't ever since I started, and I intend to keep that streak going."
"I applaud you for your efforts, then" Athena played an audio cue of clapping throughout his room.
Nathan laughed a little at the silly route their conversation took. It only seemed fair to be straight and truthful to her, given how much she cared about everyone's well-being on this base. Which only made him frown even more.
"Is there something wrong, Nathan?" Athena then piped in.
"What? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong," he told himself, slinking back into the chair further. "It's just that I'm on leave now. Don't have any mission or assignment for me to attend. Don't have to hop across continents for now. No need to spend the week before prepping. You were there, you saw what happened. Now I'm… Sitting here."
Nathan Brin got so accustomed to flying all over the world for Overwatch, becoming accustomed to being to so many new places, meeting so many new faces, and shooting so many new faces. In the months he's been stuck here, he had been anticipating a chance to finally relax and when he got it…
"Isn't as satisfying as I'd imagined," Nathan confessed.
"To be fair, Nathan, you had only just started," Athena responded, this time making herself appear at his desk with a holoscreen. "It can be difficult trying to adjust to new circumstances. Especially circumstances where you're not expected to do anything at all. But I'm sure there are plenty of activities to help boost your levels of contentment."
"I don't think 'contentment' is something you can quantify, Athena."
"It's only a figure of speech. Look, I'm sure there's something here you can enjoy."
Before he could even ask what she meant by that, another holoscreen appeared in front of hers and displayed a bulleted list of "activities". Nathan leaned in for a closer look, his eyes skimming each item that was currently on the screen. Reaching a finger out and scrolling down to find other items on the list. Squinting as he read them. Not really sure what some of these were.
"The hell's 'yoga'?" the Waster questioned, scrolling and perusing through more of the webpage. "Wait, is this… A website? The Internet has its own version of crappy self-help books? That's comforting."
"A lot of people have found a use for such websites, Nathan. That's why they're there in the first place. Although, I can understand why some of the things listed won't appeal to you. I'll make sure to scour the Internet for more agreeable activities."
"I'm sure you will."
"If that doesn't appeal to you, is there anything you had in mind?"
Brin glanced at Athena, leaning back in his chair and looking around his room. When it came to the things he wanted to do, stuff that was of his own volition and benefit, it seemed like they were constantly on his mind whenever he was away from Gibraltar. Now, back at Gibraltar and upon retrospect, his mind was running blank as he tried to figure out what to do. As if his brain had forgotten the instant he came back. Surely, a partially severed brainstem wouldn't leave him to be completely amnesiac, would it?
Did his guns need cleaning? No, he always cleaned them after every mission. After every range trip, even.
Did his armor need patching? His duster is long gone, and no amount of sewing can bring it back to working order. His cuirass and helmet were still fine, save for the centuries-old scratches and dings. That didn't matter much.
Did his inventory need sorting? He wouldn't be a very seasoned Wastelander if it wasn't. Everything, all his belongings, kept nice and tidy within his room. To make things easy to sort and find, to preserve some of his sanity. A habit cultivated in his profession, by default. One of the few things he feels like he's in control of. Making this home feel a bit more like his home.
'What else could I even do…?' he silently contemplated, not getting any answer from himself.
"Maybe you could help around the base?" Athena finally broke the silence that ensued from her last question, breaking Nathan from his train of thought.
"What?"
"Yesterday, you had asked Winston about the other 'high-priorities' and alluded to offering some of your assistance."
The Courier could barely remember ever saying that.
"Helping with some 'chores', so to speak," Athena further clarified. "And I'm not suggesting going on a mission, obviously. Not even suggesting leaving the base. Just something productive, and hopefully, fulfilling to help keep yourself busy. I'm sure there's someone here who could use your help. Wouldn't mind having an extra hand. Can you think of anyone on the base that could?"
'Dr. Ziegler,' Nathan Brin immediately thought, knowing that the resident doctor was seemingly always up to her neck in work. Whether life-saving or not. He only relented to say anything given the news of her most recent patient.
Thankfully, knowing her, it wouldn't be long until his ass was out of the infirmary. Maybe then, he'd want to pay the Doctor a visit. One without a medical reason behind it.
"Yeah…" was all he wanted to say.
Huffing through his nose, he sat back in his chair and stared at his desk. The neatly piled pieces of paper, assorted writing utensils, and organized tools spread all over the black glass. Wiping a finger across the glass to see some dust had collected. Rubbing it into his thumb.
As his eyes kept wandering the desk, it eventually landed on a piece of paper that shined in the light of the room. He reached over to it and brought it in front of him, the photograph of all his companions in front of the lodge. Only feeling regret the more he gazed at it.
"You know Nathan… You could use this picture to wash away any doubts about you being from another world. The piece of evidence you're holding is pretty convincing," Athena suggested.
"Yeah… Damning, indeed," Nathan responded, before setting the photo down.
He sat back in his chair, silently staring into nowhere and clasping his hands at his stomach. Occasionally rocking in his chair as he got sucked into his mind. His room was quiet aside from the gentle humming of the computer and the occasional waves outside his window. The silence in his room giving way to the noise outside his door, but even there he could hear nothing. As if nothing was happening and the world had fallen still for the moment. This silence almost tantalizing to the old Waster, wanting to revel in it for a few minutes longer.
"Mjau."
The silence permitted that little noise to be heard, and he rotated his chair to his door, where it had originated from. Nathan waited, hearing nothing but the quiet air.
"Mjau," the noise emanated, again, with a series of scraping noises accompanying it just a second later. The scratching almost making Nathan reach to his sidearm.
"Athena, what the hell is that?" he asks, eyes switching between the door and her.
"It appears you have a little visitor," the AI answered, sounding like she was smiling.
The Waster looked at her for a second until he got up from the chair and stepped over to the door. Standing right up against it, he placed an ear onto it and listened to the scratching persist. It didn't sound like claws or talons, only like several tiny needles gently rubbing against the door. Keeping his hand close to the SIG, he swiftly grabbed the door and opened it, only to be greeted by an empty hallway. He was confused until he lowered his gaze a little further and saw the yellow eyes of the Lindholm's tiger-striped cat. The fluffy little thing standing on its hind legs before settling down on its front paws, too. Nathan leaned forward to poke his head out of the doorway and looked across the hall, seeing it was empty on both sides. Looking down at the cat more confused.
Stepping back, he closed the door and was about to sit back in his chair until he heard the scratching again. Opening the door, the cat was still at his feet.
"Mjau," it went off again, looking up at the tall man with those big yellow eyes.
The Wastelander narrowed his eyes at the feline.
"What do you want?" he asked as he squatted as close to the ground as possible, the cat coming up to his knee.
"Mjau," it responded, then stepping over to one leg and rubbing its body all over him.
Nathan perked an eyebrow as he felt the fur rub against his pants. Watching as the cat twirled and went for a second pass, rubbing against his knee with the other side of its body. The cat did this a couple of more times, Nathan then reaching out with his right hand and petting the small creature. Feeling how soft and fluffy its orange fur felt.
However, as soon as his fingers graced its coat, the cat let out another meow and walked off into the hallway. Nathan watched it go a couple of feet from his door until it stopped and sat down, looking back at him from where it was.
"Mjau!"
The Waster narrowed his eyes more, wondering what it wanted. He stood up, which prompted the cat to stand up and walk a few more feet into the hall. It stopped and looked back at him again to meow. He looked at it, almost in disbelief, but looked back at the inside of his room. Seeing it was empty and spotting the photograph on his desk. Seeing the dogs that were at the very front of the group.
Sighing, he stepped out into the hallway and began following the cat. The tiger-striped feline meowing and trotting ahead, but occasionally looking back to make sure the human was still behind him. Nathan wasn't sure what it wanted or what it was even doing; Obviously more experienced with dogs. Fairly certain its kind was largely extinct back home.
Regardless, he followed the cat as it led him across the base. The small animal sometimes rubbing and walking in between his large legs, almost tripping him at times. Taking the time to look back and meow, to make sure Nathan wasn't planning to go anywhere else.
He wasn't, but this curious cat was intriguing enough for him to follow. Wondering what the little guy's deal was. Letting it take point, reminding him when he would let his dogs do the same. Their snouts ready to sniff the air and point to any unseen dangers. Although, he wasn't sure the Lindholms' kitty wasn't wasteland capable.
The cat barely strayed off the path it chose, only occasionally sniffing at the ground or looking at something of minor interest. Eventually, the cat took a hard right and walked into a room. Nathan followed it and found themselves in the mess hall. The area empty and quiet, save for some people sitting at the bar. The cat continuing to walk over to where that bar was.
Instantly, Nathan had second thoughts about walking over there, but one last glance back from those little yellow eyes was enough for him to take another step forward into the mess.
It didn't take long for him to reach the other side of the room, getting closer to see the ones occupying the stools were Genji, Zenyatta, and Reinhardt. The two humans were enjoying steaming little cups of tea, while the omnic in between them tended to the teapot. They all looked over their shoulders when Nathan and the cat approached.
"Ödländer! I see Tiger has found a person willing to be his feeder," the German exclaimed, regarding them both with his one eye. "Welcome!"
"Is that it, huh?" the New Californian questions, standing by them as the cat then hops up onto the counter and next to him. A bit startled by how the tiny thing was able to achieve that.
"He found no such luck with us. Brigitte doesn't want us to encourage bad behavior, but her father is more easily swayed by the little trickster."
"Don't we have regulations against keeping pets here?"
"Bah, who cares? Just another holdover from when we were 'legitimate'. Already broken a dozen as far as I'm concerned."
"Right, and where are the Lindholms, anyway?"
"Occupied, I presume. Brigitte and I recently finished a sparring session, so she went off for some rest. And her father, well, that's self-explanatory."
"Sparring? Ain't you sore from the last mission, old man?"
"A little ache isn't something to cry about. In fact, I consider them good motivators! Isn't that right my little monk friend?"
"It can be an excellent teacher when it is not excessive and debilitating, yes," Zenyatta clarified, pouring Reinhardt some more tea. "Would you care to join us for some tea, Nathan? Or would you like to wait for what the chef will prepare?"
They all looked at Nathan as soon as he asked that question, seeing the cups steaming with a white vapor.
"Can the chef prepare coffee?" the Waster asked, sitting down on the stool between Genji and Tiger.
"He most certainly can try," the Monk answered.
The use of the word "try" confused Nathan and didn't really give him the confidence he wanted, but he wasn't much of a stickler for coffee. Barely had enough of it back home.
"How are you guys, anyway?" Nathan asked as he leaned against the counter, relaxing.
"Rejuvenated," Genji answered, cupping his tea between his metal hands.
"Thirsty for more," Reinhardt claimed, holding his cup in between his finger and thumb.
Nathan could only agree with the German's statement, already getting a hankering for something to wet his whistle.
His wish was about to be fulfilled, somewhat, as the "chef" walked up to the patrons. Making the floor slightly tremble with every mechanical step he made. Nathan looked up and was more than surprised to see it was Bastion, wearing a black cloth apron over his chassis.
"What?"
"Beedoo Beedoo!" the Bastion Unit greeted, waving his one hand much more naturally but still robotically stiff.
"…When the hell did this happen?"
"Bedo chirt vee roo!"
"That long ago?! How the hell did I not notice?"
"Qiiiiirrrr bed doo boo bop boop."
"I thought she took you for experiments?"
"Kee Boop."
"Ah, I see." the Waster learned, now aware of what had happened with his big, metal friend. Just never expected him to take on this role. "That's good to hear, Bastion."
Genji leaned next to Zenyatta, holding one hand to shield his mouth as he asked, "Master, do you know what they're saying?"
Bastion and Nathan's conversation kept going, the latter learning quite a lot of what the large omnic has been up to. The human surprised he hasn't been aware of what has been happening this entire time. Albeit, he was silently impressed with how much he's grown ever since. That apron fitting rather nicely.
"Alright, then, show me what you got," Nathan said, wanting to test him.
"Zwee?"
"Some coffee, please"
"Boo speesoo?"
"An espress-what? Sure, just whatever's good."
Jovially beeping, Bastion turned his back to the counter and walked over to where the machines for making coffee were. With his good hand, he worked and actuated the coffee-makers with machine precision and efficiency. All the patrons peering their heads over to see what the bot was doing. A series of beeps and boops playing as he quickly prepared the beverage, almost sounding like a song, the coffee-maker making noises that Nathan wasn't sure needed to be made. Finally, with one last movement and click of a button, Bastion spun around with a tiny cup on a tiny plate. With a little steam rising from the golden-brown surface of the drink.
"Huh," Nathan thinking that was a large amount of work for such a tiny cup as it was placed in front of him. It smelled nice, though, and he was about to grab it until Bastion stuck his blowtorch into the cup. "Wait, what are you-?"
A sudden burst of air gushed out and Nathan flinched as coffee sprayed all over him. Not drenching him but covering his shirt and face in a dozen little brown specks. After wiping his face into his shirt, he opened his eyes to see the little cup looked frothier. Looking up to see Bastion staring at him with his unblinking eye, waiting in anticipation.
The Wastelander apprehensively took the cup off the mini-coffee and gave it a good sniff, before bringing the edge to his lips. He took one small sip but felt his tongue get assault by a wave of flavors. Feeling a burst of energy get absorbed through his tongue. He gave Bastion a thumb up, which elated the omnic.
"Good job," he said, ignoring all the new stains on his shirt.
As he went in for a second sip, he felt a furry paw touch his arm and turned to see Tiger looking at him. He tried to drink, again, but the cat was quick to tap him on the arm for the second time. The Waster pretty sure that this hopped up coffee isn't a part of the feline diet.
Thankfully, Tiger's attention was taken away from his beverage when the noise of flapping wings occurred over them, and they saw Ganymede perched on top of Bastion's finger. The bird returning from whatever it was doing back to its metal friend. The omnic taking his time to say hello to his feathery friend.
However, before Nathan could even comment on how that wasn't the most sanitary place to keep a bird in the mess, a chittering noise made him look at Tiger and see the cat staring very intently at Ganymede. His tail flicking as he buried his rump into the countertop and his pupils dilated into black holes. Bearing his canines as his mouth opened and clicked when he made that chittering noise. The Wastelander knowing that's the face of a predator about to pounce.
Nearly about to drop his coffee to stop the cat, a blue flash lit up the room and he blinked to see Lena now sitting and spinning in the stool next to him, holding the fluffy cat against her chest. Tiger's eyes more startled than bloodthirsty. At least he was restrained, and Ganymede would be safe, for now.
"Ooooh, you're so cute!" Lena smiled as she squished the cat with her arms. Tiger not nearly as excited to see her. "Hey, guys!"
"Hey, Lena," Nathan greeted, breathing easy as he took another sip of his coffee. Feeling his mind get a bit clearer with every drop. "You find out what that ship was all about?"
"Yup. Turns out Winston sent off Jack and Ana to the U.S. to investigate a disturbance that we picked up just last night."
"What type of disturbance?"
"I dunno. Winston wasn't sure either, but he seemed rather worried about what he saw. Would rather have boots on the ground to confirm his suspicions."
"Where in the U.S., specifically?"
"Nevada."
Nathan almost choked on his drink when he heard the state mentioned, turning to look earnestly at her.
"Nevada? What? Did a nuke go off?" he questioned but smirking and chuckling all the while.
"Almost seemed like it. Winston's office was practically in a frenzy when I went there. Fareeha was there, too, trying to coordinate with any Helix contacts she had in the U.S. I hope it's nothing, though…" Oxton hoped before she turned her attention to the cat she held prisoner "What about you? Do you know what it is?"
"Mjau!" Tiger responded, though, probably not to answer but to plead.
"Careful, Lena, Brigitte still wants him in one piece," Reinhardt urged.
"You're not trying to nick some of their food are ya'? You know you shouldn't put your mitts on what they're eating, huh?"
"Heh," Brin let out an amused huff, watching Lena suffocate the fluffy cat. "I used to have the same problem with my dog."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I've tried to keep him away from the table, but someone kept giving him scraps. Put the idea in his head that he can just sit there all day long and give you those eyes until you caved in."
He frowned as he thought about those times until a quaint smile slowly replaced it.
"What was his name?" Lena asked, stroking the kitty on her lap.
"Guts. He was still a good dog."
