Amelie LaCroix - Widowmaker
Amelie was tempted.
It would take so little, to close the distance between them, and wring the good doctor's neck. The thought quickened her blood, and Amelie felt heat tingle in places that cried to her for relief of one sort, or another . She was just wired that way. Sex and death were so intertwined for her now, that one could replace the other as easily as water and wine. One could quench her thirst as easily as the other. Kiss her or kill her? Looking at Mercy, Amelie didn't deceive herself. She wanted to do both. It would not be the first time she combined the two together. She remember how sweet the kill had been when she'd taken Nova to her bed in celebration of her becoming Talon's top ranked sniper, years before Moira had toyed with her DNA.
Rank hath privilege, and Talon was indulgent with it's darlings vices. To a point. Amelie had taken full advantage of the perks she gained climbing the ladder of Talon's elite operatives. No one was left from the strike team that had kidnapped her oh so long ago. They were only snatch and grab mercenaries, no specialties among them. Well, no militaire specialties. Lola did know how to use her mouth. She had let the little latina live weeks longer than any of the others because she knew how to put her tongue to good use. Until Lola wagged it the wrong way, claiming to have tamed la araña to her fellows in Talon. Amelie was not a tame spider. She would not be kept, or contained. But she could be bought, if the price was right.
"I accept your kind and generous offer."
Mercy's face was a study of relief and a sudden dumbfounded realization of just how daunting a task bringing Widowmaker into Overwatch's fold would be.
"You work on taking out my kill switches, keep me healthy and hale, and I will be your dog, Mercy. Your's and yours alone." Amelie set the terms of their relationship. "If you tell me to take a mission, I will take it. If you tell me to stand down, I will stand down. But I have needs, Angela. If they cannot be met one way, then they must be satisfied another."
The relief on the Swiss doctor's face faltered and fell. Here was the sticking point. Could Angela Ziegler truly accept Amelie LaCroix in all her strings and shadows? Even Moira couldn't bear to keep her after the final treatments finished what Talon started, making her the perfect killer. She was a Pygmalion folly. Loved for being the perfect creation, tossed aside for being what she was created to be.
" How are you feeling, LaCroix"
" I don't feel. That's the point, isn't it?"
Moira probably had been the one to set the kill switches. It would be in her nature, to have a fail safe. Little spiders couldn't be allowed to go off the reservation. Talon didn't allow its personel, it's property to leave except in a body bag. Well, Talon could aller se faire foutre.
If Mercy could perform this miracle, could set her free of Talon, Amelie would serve her well indeed.
"I see that all your basic needs are met." Mercy smiled, her whole face lighting up with the joy of having saved one more soul from Talon's clutches, "Leave it to me, Amelie, you can finally come home."
Amelie LaCroix smiled back, less exuberantly, but with genuine feeling. Yes. Maybe she had finally come home. Overwatch was soon going to find out if this was a blessing, or a curse.
" Araignée du soir , hope."
To be continued in Prisoner of Peace