El Zabal, Spain, 1306 hours, maybe half an hour drive from Gibraltar.

"Does Angela always let you borrow clothes from her?" Amélie asked, looking down on herself and not wearing her skin tight latex suit anymore for the first time in what felt like ages. Instead, she wore a black pair of pants and a grey turtleneck shirt with long sleeves. A dark navy blue coat completed her attire for their little outing. Amélie's hair was pulled into a tight topknot making its striking violet color seem almost as black as the coat she was wearing.

The parts of her skin which weren't covered by clothes were covered with white makeup. True, it did make her seem rather pale, but one had to take a very careful look at her to notice the light color was really just because of makeup and not because of extremely fair skin. Tracer did a surprisingly good job applying the everyday camouflage. For someone usually not wearing any makeup, Lena really was rather skilled when it came to applying it.

"Ah well, you know. I figured asking for forgiveness is easier than asking for permission" she laughed a tad nervously, parking one of the Overwatch pool-vehicles in a parking lot inside the small town near the Watchpoint.

Widowmaker just gave her girlfriend a blank look, tilting her head to the side.

"Relax; I'm sure she doesn't mind. Besides, she was the one who said you have to get new clothes. That's what we're here for!" Tracer said, getting out of the car and grabbing an umbrella from its trunk. The sky was still pouring rivers down onto the earth below, and Lena didn't want Amélie's makeup to start washing off. That would be... bad. "C'mon" Tracer beamed and reached for Widow's hand, leading her into the town.

Amélie actually enjoyed the walk a lot more than anything else in quite some time. She was holding the umbrella simply because she was the taller one of the two women. Being the tomboy she was, Lena protested at first, apparently thinking it wouldn't be proper for her to take Amélie out on a date and make her hold the umbrella. Widow just smiled and took the rain-protection from Lena's hands, getting the most adorable little pout in response. The Brit was too cute at times.

Walking down the street, the pattering of the rain on the plastic surface of the umbrella, the two lovers fell into a comfortable silence. Amélie enjoyed the warmth of Lena's body pressed to her side, their arms interlinked with each other. It felt nice. Normal. Somehow. Like they didn't have to hide from anyone or anything and, in a way, they really didn't have to. The chances that someone would see them and actually recognize were close to zero. That alone was relaxing. Widowmaker had no idea where they were going, but she didn't seem to really mind. She was perfectly content just following where Lena was leading her.

People weren't really paying them much attention, even when the sidewalks were getting busier and the town more and more urbanized. Despite the horrible weather, a lot of people were out, minding their own business and browsing through the various shop windows of the many stores the small town had to offer. Ignoring the weather, it was a beautiful place to be.

Soon enough, Lena led them into a rather large outlet with more clothes on display than anyone could have ever needed for basically anything. It was surprising that a place as large as this one had enough customers here. It was a rather small town, after all, barely large enough for people to not know each other anymore, with enough individuals walking around for two new faces to not draw any attention.

The store was rather well-visited as well. A lot of people were browsing through the various sections, searching for whatever they needed. Apparently the weather got people in the mood for shopping longer than they normally would. Salesmen were walking around answering questions and helping customers wherever they could. It was a rather busy place, and Amélie actually stopped a few steps into the store to take a look around. The interior was freaking huge,and she had absolutely no idea what to do here.

"So…Where do you want to start?" Lena asked in high spirits, smiling at Widow with the goofiest expression on her face.

"I actually don't know, chérie." Amélie shrugged ever so slightly. Tracer thought for a moment that her girlfriend seemed a bit off, but she figured it might have been because she was actually out in public for the first time, not out at night trying to kill someone. Tracer cringed internally, fighting the flame of anger burning in her chest at the thought that Talon all did this to Amélie.

"Alright, here's the plan: We start by picking out some pants and shirts for you. We then move to jackets and shoes and stuff like that. Then, we move to underwear; you'll have to start wearing some, no matter how much I don't like the thought."

"If you don't like me wearing underwear, I won't." Widow hummed, causing some very prominent red to spread over Lena's cheeks. Tracer was an eternal sucker for Widow always going commando underneath that skin-tight suit of hers. It was simply such a turn on knowing.

"Hush! Don't tempt my resolve, luv. You need underwear. You also need some comfy stuff like sweatpants and such. And maybe a dress or two. So... basically a whole wardrobe... Any preferences? Colors?" Lena asked with a sigh, increasingly overwhelmed by the task. It all started out rather simple. Pick up some clothes for Amélie. She really hadn't thought about the fact that her girlfriend didn't own even a single piece of normal clothing apart from the one Air Force shirt Lena gave her and which was currently used as a pajama top. Mercy didn't like the idea of Amélie sleeping naked at the sickbay. But, no matter how you twist and turned it, a single old Air Force shirt clearly wasn't a wardrobe.

"Mercy said she isn't certain if she can reverse my skin color since my heart might have already taken too much damage from the changes. So, we might want to pick something which goes along well with purple. Other than that... I never picked out clothes." Amélie admitted. "I was hoping for your experience."

Tracer nodded, choosing to ignore the implications of what her girlfriend revealed in the beginning. She simply heard pick something which goes along well with purple. Fair enough. "Well I'm more one for taking clothes off than putting them on" Lena laughed "Though I do know what I like..." she stopped herself as some very scandalous ideas for possible outfits flashed through her mind. "...Then again, I better not decide too much here, because you want to be able to go outside without being mistaken for a tart. I'd just smack someone." she looked around the store and spotted a young, apparently slightly bored saleswoman waiting for someone she could help out. "I'll get us some assistance."

It was exactly the right decision to get some help. Lena doubted they would have ever moved through everything so fast without someone who knew the store like the back of their hand. They had followed their original plan rather precisely so far.

The saleswoman was a nice person who had the decency to not ask any questions. Even though she had to notice that Amélie's skin was only white in her face and not her legs…Or anywhere else on her body. Tracer made sure to remind herself to give the woman a rather generous tip once they checked out. Just to make sure the girl knew her discretion was noticed and much appreciated.

It had quickly turned out that Widowmaker apparently liked black and purple a lot…which wasn't really a huge surprise. She also seemed to like dark grey and red. All together, not really the most uncommon colors, so it wasn't difficult to pick the more basic stuff. The saleswoman suggested a few items. Widow tried them on one after another, always careful to not step out of the changing cabin and only letting Tracer peek through the curtain. Once she tried everything, Widow asked Lena which she liked the best, and usually that was what they decided on in the end. In the beginning, Tracer tried to encourage Widow to pick what she liked the most, but Amélie just shrugged and told her that she had no real emotion concerning any article, thus giving Lena the choice. There was no point in arguing with Amélie about this, so Lena didn't even bother trying. She knew her girlfriend good enough by now to know this.

By now they had covered pants, shirts, jackets, shoes, comfortable stuff, and underwear. Currently, they were browsing for one or two slightly fancier items. Namely a dress.

"Lena?" Amélie's voice asked from behind the curtain, and Tracer got up from the chair she had been sitting on waiting for Widow to put on the dress the saleswoman had picked out. It was a simple white, backless dress, long enough to be elegant, but also short enough to not lack a certain lingering passion, a mysterious sexiness, and the feeling of something forbidden.

Lena stuck her head through the curtain. To her credit, she managed to prevent her jaw from crashing to the ground too hard, bringing it to a stop just a few centimeters before impact.

"How do you like it?" Amélie asked, and actually had a shy blush on her cheeks. Lena wanted to tell her how absolutely stunning her girlfriend looked. How perfect and beautiful she was. But she couldn't find any words which wouldn't have sounded totally cheesy.

So, Lena grabbed the empty coathanger from the side of the changing booth. "The only thing I'd prefer would be if you wore this." she smirked goofily. Widow apparently didn't get what Lena was talking about immediately.

Then she realized what Tracer meant. The coathanger was empty. She'd prefer her naked.

"Bien sûr, you would like that." Amélie rolled her eyes, pushing Lena out of her booth. "Ask if they have it in black. I'm not sure if white is my color"

"Sure thing, luv" Tracer giggled, turning to the saleswoman waiting patiently. "Sorry that we're so much trouble"

"Not at all; that's what I'm here for, Ma'am" the saleswoman said honestly.

Lena resisted the urge to tell her not to call her "Ma'am"; it wouldn't have made any difference. The saleswoman was just being polite.

"I was wondering if you maybe have the same dress we are trying just now only in black?"

"Of course. I'll bring it to you."

"Thank you!"

The black dress was, to Lena's surprise, even more amazing than the white one. She insisted it would have to be bought, and Amélie just agreed with a curt nod. It wasn't like she didn't like the way Lena had already undressed her with her eyes. So, if her girlfriend liked it so much, she would wear it.

The saleswoman took the huge pile of clothes they had decided on to the checkout while Amélie was slipping back into the clothes she borrowed from Angela. For the first time since they had entered the store, Widowmaker left the changing booth again, still surprised just how large the place really was.

"Happy?" Lena asked.

"Of course, chérie" Amélie replied, following her girlfriend. When she was still inside the changing booth, she hadn't really noticed too much, simply because she couldn't see anything. But now that she was out and had done what they came here for, Amélie had the time to look around a little bit. Was this how a normal life looked? It didn't feel familiar. Something was missing. Widow didn't take long to notice that she was missing the danger and thrill of the hunt. The intoxicating high of squeezing the trigger and seeing her target - her prey - cease to existence. That used to be her normality up until recently.

Yet, it wasn't normal.

And that became shockingly apparent now that Widow had stepped out of the bubble she was forced to spend large portions of her life in. It was everything she remembered. This outlet here felt foreign. Like a strange concept.

There was a family, a husband with his wife and two children, a boy and a girl, both no older than maybe twelve, who were apparently trying to find something for the girl. The boy seemed bored out of his mind, and he soon ran off, searching for something fun to do.

He bumped straight into Amélie, who was trying to comprehend the shocking normality of what she was seeing. Never in the life she remembered had she been at a place where she just could walk in and be seen. Where people weren't expecting some kind of danger. Where there was no security and where she didn't have to sneak in and out. She was almost missing that sense of danger, thinking that any moment she would regret letting her guard down. A part of her thought she might have just missed the obvious trap she was walking in.

For an instant, that sense was more than only tingling when she bumped into something smaller than her.

Every muscle in her athletic, perfectly toned body tensed up, preparing to strike, as Amélie looked down to check what had attacked her. She found the small boy with unruly hair and a patch across his nose looking up to her, and immediately felt stupid.

"Why do you have golden eyes?" the boy asked with the innocent curiosity of a child.

Amélie's eyebrow twitched. "My natural eyes were cut out and replaced by biomechanical implants. The organic parts of the iris were grown on a base structure made of gold, hence the color." she stated dryly, yet a little bit surprised herself that she actually knew that. She remembered seeing a blueprint of her eyes sometime… they were really sophisticated. The boy's jaw dropped.

Lena nudged her in the side "Amélie!" she admonished, turning to the kid "You see her eyes are golden because she has super good eyesight. She can see things miles away, like, reeeally well. It's a really badass color, don't you think, lil one?"

"Yeah!" he cheered before quickly becoming serious again "So... her eyes weren't cut out?" he asked carefully, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.

"Well..." Lena hesitated, but luckily was saved by the boy's mother who came rushing toward them.

"Thomas! Don't run off like that" she said, taking him by his hand "I'm sorry," she apologized "I hope he didn't bother you too much."

"Mommy, the lady has golden eyes" Thomas said, but was ignored expertly, the mother obviously very much used to the way her son was.

"It's alright, Ma'am" Tracer smiled happily. "Your son is very curious. That's good."

"Too curious for his own good sometimes. Sorry again." The mother apologized anew, taking her son back to the father and their daughter. "God, Thomas, you can't just ask people why their eyes are an abnormal color. That's incredibly rude! It's none of your business!" the mother said to her son while they were walking away.

Amélie heard it, of course. And one word in particular stung her slowed heart like a icicle. Abnormal. It was true, wasn't it? She wasn't normal. Far from it. Most of her being had been created in some filthy laboratory by people who didn't give a rat's ass about her. Usually knowing that didn't really bother Amélie too much, but right now it became painfully obvious.

-/-

It had taken Amélie and Lena a little over four hours to complete their shopping in total before they were back on the street with bags full of clothes again. Without the super helpful saleswoman Lena had asked to help, they would have never been able to make it in that time. Lena did remember to give her the handsome tip she wanted to for not addressing the slightly odd things the saleswoman surely noticed about her customers. Odd not in a lesbian way, which was probably obvious from the first moment, but she didn't say a word. And to keep it like that -her lips sealed that is - Lena increased the small fortune she spent on Amélie to the next bigger small fortune.

It was a successful day so far. Now her girlfriend had some very nice outfits, ranging from simple to sophisticated. A whole wardrobe for every occasion. Even some sexy stuff which they had decided on.

Tracer had a lot of fun picking out clothes for Amélie, who really appreciated her girlfriend's efforts and was genuinely happy for her. Yet, something was bothering Widow, Tracer could tell. She didn't know what it was, however. Maybe she was just exhausted from spending the whole day out in an environment she wasn't used to in the slightest. Maybe some quiet place where they could relax for a bit would be a good idea. A place where they could talk, perhaps.

"What do you say, Blueberry, let's have a nice cup of coffee after all that shopping?" Tracer suggested, looking at Amélie, who was again holding the umbrella while Lena was carrying all the bags filled with the clothes they got.

"Sounds good" she nodded, and Tracer immediately turned them around and toward a small, plain café at a corner of the street.

They quickly slipped inside, paying attention to not getting wet.

Inside, they were greeted by an old, but very comfortable café. A few customers were sitting at their tables, chatting happily with each other, but the place wasn't terribly crowded either. Lena looked around in the store and quickly spotted an empty table in the backside of the café. That place would do just fine for them. She took the umbrella from Amélie and placed it in a corner next to the entrance before she grasped her lover's hand and led her to the table she had decided on. The bags they carried were placed on the unoccupied bench running along the entire wall of the café.

"This seems like a nice place" Amélie said, looking around like she was evaluating the possibility of something bad happening here. This wasn't the first time Lena caught her girlfriend looking around with that expression on her face. This wasn't like the clothes store. Where the latter had been busy and filled with people, this place here was more quiet and calm. It was a place to relax and unwind.

"I'm glad you like it" Lena beamed, causing Widow to stop looking around and simply stare at Lena. She was always so cheerful and so happy. Sunshine was really the best comparison for her. Tracer was like the sun. Warm, shining bright, and always bringing light and happiness. She had been like this the entire day, and it was amazing to see how well Lena got along with everyone. The Brit had no difficulties communicating with anyone. She was always open and funny, and Amélie had no idea how Lena did it.

Widow's social skills were... lacking at best and nonexistent at worst. Most of the time, when she talked to someone other than Lena or Angela, Widow snapped. Amélie got the feeling that she was holding Tracer back with the way she didn't know a lot outside of killing people. She began to wonder how Lena could possibly ever be really happy with someone like her at the Brit's side. The French assassin had been pondering that question for a long time today, actually.

It was eating her away. She couldn't help it. There was just so much Lena seemed to enjoy which Amélie didn't get or couldn't do. A whole world she never saw before. Not to speak of all the friends Lena had which all obviously hated Amélie for some reason or another. Widow didn't care if they hated her. She couldn't have cared less about their opinion. But what if their opinion of Tracer would change? Was that the reason they kept their relationship a secret?

It had been bugging her the entire time today. She wondered when Lena had become this important to her, but it felt like she couldn't go on for even a second without her. Tracer was more important than breathing for some reason, as stupid as it may sound.

Her girlfriend, of course, noticed that something was bothering her love, which was part of the reason they were even sitting in this café. Lena was highly attentive when it came to the mood and feelings of her partner.

"So" Lena started "How are you doing? I mean, really? Are you alright? The fucking wanker from this morning was the only one who talked shit, wasn't he? You'll tell me if someone is giving you a hard time, won't you? I can-"

"Chérie..." Widow reached across the table and took Lena's hands into her own, letting her thumbs run over the back of the Brit's warm, smooth hands. She needed to feel her hands. The faint throbbing of Lena's pulse underneath that soft skin of hers usually well protected underneath some high-quality gloves. Amélie wanted to make sure that she was still really here.

"Huh?" Lena looked up from her rambling.

"I don't care what anyone says. I'm here because of you. And only you. Because I want to be with you and I couldn't care less what someone else has to say about it, or about me, or about anything else, really. They don't matter. You do." Widow said with no smile and no cheesy smirk. Nothing. She was dead serious about this. She really was.

"...Luv" Tracer was speechless and wanted to say so much more, but couldn't. Lena wasn't able to sort through the sheer amount of thoughts that popped into her mind fast enough before a cheerful person appeared right next to them on their table, wearing a mint green apron over the light grey work-uniform. Questionable choice of colors, but somehow it worked out.

"Welcome, you two" the woman smiled, obviously noticing the two girls holding hands in an unambiguously romantic way. Neither Amélie nor Lena could bring themselves to care. The waitress wasn't from Overwatch, so it didn't matter if she knew something or not. "What can I get you?"

Lena smiled and nodded toward Amélie, indicating that she should start with her order.

"A cup of coffee. Black and no sugar, s'il vous plaît" Widow said, glancing at the waitress for a moment. The girl - she could have hardly been older than 20 - had mesmerizingly smooth, perfectly black hair all the way down to her hips with a rather fascinating wave throughout it and green eyes which were shining brightly. On her apron there was a small nametag reading 'Sheena Gogh', and she was holding a small notepad and a pen. Just in the moment Widowmaker looked at the waitress, she actually quickly bit her lower lip, hearing the French accent in Amélie's silken voice.

It all didn't go by unnoticed by Lena, who had to suppress a smile. Widow's voice would get that kind of reaction a lot in the future, she was sure of it. How Amélie tended to purr things with her absolutely incredible French accent, the words slipping off her tongue like liquid silk in such an easy manner, and how she effortlessly incorporated pieces of her mother tongue which everyone understood; all that was basically sex for the ears, after all. The Brit wasn't shy to admit that her girlfriend's voice alone was perfectly capable of turning her on. Like... really turn her on.

"A-And for you?" Shena wanted to know, quickly scribbling something down on her notepad.

"Mhh, I think I'll just have a cup of tea with a slice of lemon, please?" Lena said happily, not sure if they even served tea in this place. It would have been a shame if they didn't. One of the few occasions where Tracer actually felt the need to drink tea, what a pity it would be if they didn't have any now. It was a bit of blasphemy that Lena, as a through and through British girl wasn't too keen on tea, but it couldn't be helped.

"Black tea?" Sheena inquired, causing Lena to sigh in relief. The question must have meant they had some. Of course, black tea, because anything else was definitely nothing for her. Genji once shared a cup of traditional Japanese green tea with her and Lena promised herself she'd never touch it again.

"Certainly." Lena nodded. "Oh, and do you have cake?"

"Of course! Cheesecake and apple pie. Homemade ones as well."

"I'll take the apple pie, please." Lena decided instantly. God, she loved apple pie. "You too, luv?"

"No, thanks. I'm good, merci." Amélie said with a brief smile. She was feeling stuffed enough as it was. Her metabolism didn't need much nourishment, after all, and the meals she was provided at the Watchpoint were... generous.

"Alright, a cup of coffee, no milk, no sugar, a cup of black tea with a slice of lemon, and a piece of apple pie. Coming right up." The waitress smiled and was gone as fast as she appeared.

Lena returned her attention to her company, smiling shyly. There were a few minutes of only half-comfortable silence in which Tracer tried to figure out what she wanted to say. Was this why Amélie had been acting more and more strange during the day? Lena had assumed that maybe the little disturbance during breakfast was getting to Amélie more than she admitted, but maybe that wasn't it. Lena wouldn't lie, she had a great time taking Widow shopping, buying clothes for her and picking all the various outfits. Usually, Tracer didn't spend money on anything, apart from her single hobby of rebuilding an old car she owned, but other than that, she didn't need a lot of money. Playing guitar wasn't expensive, and her occasional need for some Scotch was covered by Overwatch's bar. No, spending it on someone else was nice, and Lena liked doing it. Especially when she got to pick outfits - most of which, yet surely not all, was part of an everyday wardrobe - for someone as gorgeous as Amélie was. She had a lot of fun. And Lena was getting really communicative when she was enjoying herself. Had she been talking too much with the saleswoman? Had she maybe been too flirty with her? Was Amélie worried that she might leave? Was that it?

"You know" Lena said finally "When you say things like what you did before, I sometimes think I really don't deserve you at all. But oh, boy am I happy that you're here anyway. You have no idea how much you mean to me" Lena said honestly, not caring that today was apparently a cheesy day. Like, seriously, something like this was necessary from time to time! It was important in a good relationship to give the feelings one felt a chance to be voiced just the way they were felt. What could have been wrong about telling someone Lena loved how she felt about her?

Widow frowned, shaking her head and averting her eyes from Lena. She felt terrible. The whole day was one big showcase of how a normal life should look like. What living really meant. Yet, it was also a bonfire of what Amélie knew she would never be able to give Lena. That normality which made Tracer blossom so beautifully; her cheerful laughter ringing louder and her gleeful smile shining brighter. When they were picking outfits together, Lena had been happy. Truly happy. Widow could easily tell and it also made her happy. But part of her knew that a life with her would never really look like that often. She couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the life Lena could possibly want or need. Widowmaker knew she would most likely always be haunted by her past. The chances of her ever having a normal life, like everyone else was close to zero. And she felt a chilly sense of anxiety creep up her spine at the thought that she might only be holding Lena back from something. That she might be the cause of her little sunshine not shining as bright as she could be. Amélie didn't want that. She wanted Lena to be as happy as possible.

All that insecurity and anxiety suddenly surfaced. They had never really talked about their feelings. Hell, neither of them really knew just why they were even so madly in love with each other. Or when it happened. Or because of what. All they knew was that they were. For some reason, apparently. Or can two humans fall in love without a reason at all?

What bullshit. It was total crap. Amélie didn't even grasp the concept fully. Was she even in love? Most of the time it felt more like an addiction. But in the best possible way. It made her stronger, think clearer, and hear sharper. Her heart beat faster, and she felt... alive around Tracer.

Damn, that must have been love.

"If someone here doesn't deserve the other one, that would be me. I have not the first idea why you want to be with me. You don't have to stick around just because you feel responsible. I mean, I'm just... just... well, not normal." Amélie's voice was cold, calm, and rational, which made her statements even more cruel. She had given the entire matter a lot of thought recently. It was no spontaneous whim of hers. Widowmaker never acted on a whim. "I'm not like the family we saw in the clothing store. I'm not like the nice saleswoman you enjoyed talking to so much either, or the waitress in this place. I'm someone who doesn't remember most of her life, and the pieces I do remember are just horrible fragments. Sacrebleu, I can't pick my own clothes. I didn't know what color I liked before I tried some today. I'm someone who could suddenly snap and murder you. Merde, that almost happened twice now! I know Mercy said my recovery would take a lot of time and effort and will be really difficult, but she made it clear that there were no guarantees that I'll ever fully recover. You and I both know that won't happen. Angela didn't say it like that, of course, but I'm not completely dense. I'm... broken. Just look at me. You don't have to paint anyone else so they can go out and not stand out like a lighthouse. Or touch me. I'm as cold as a corpse. I might not know a lot about society or how it works, and I'm not good with people, but I'm not stupid. They ruined me. You can't tell me that all that doesn't bother you. Talon turned me into a science project, and every day I notice more and more that - "

"SHUT UP!" Tracer yelled suddenly, causing a lot of people to look up and turn their heads to check what was going on. Lena had jumped up from her place and let go of Amélie's hands. Her eyes were filled with tears, about to fall down as she tried to blink them away, but destined to fail. Amélie just stared like she didn't understand "What?!" Lena yelled. "What on earth are you talking about?!" she shouted with a trembling, faltering voice "Do I suddenly need a reason to love you? I simply do! That's just how it is! I love you, Amélie, not for what you think you are, but for who you actually are! You're such a wonderful woman for so many reasons! And nothing you say or do will ever change that. I don't give a damn what happened to you in the past, and I don't care if you aren't like everyone else. If I wanted someone boring, I would have looked for someone boring. I couldn't recall a single face of any other woman I met since the London belfry, because in my mind there is only space for you. You are you, Blueberry, and I love you. No one else! No cute cashier, or pretty waitress, or normal family; just you. I don't know when it happened, or why, or how, but I know for sure that I do. And I don't care about the circumstances, or if it's going to be difficult, or that you need time to heal. I just want you to know that no matter what will be, I'll forever stay at your side, and don't you dare think that what happened to you changes anything about how I feel. I will not hold things against you which clearly weren't your fault, and neither should you! Dammit, Amélie, I love you, don't you get it? I love you so much it hurts not to be with you, and don't you ever second guess that!"

Tracer breathed heavily, staring at Amélie with burning eyes. She felt her legs trembling, and wasn't sure how much longer she had it in herself to stand. But this was bothering her so much, and it felt so wrong. Despite maybe sounding a bit egoistical, Lena knew she was probably a rather good catch. Someone a lot of people might have dreamed of being with. She knew that she was pretty decent at most things concerning a relationship. But not for a second had she thought that Amélie couldn't deserve her because of what happened to the French beauty. If there was even a little bit of fairness in the galaxy, Widowmaker deserved her even more for exactly that reason. For all the years of abuse and torture. For all the cruel experiments. Someone who had gone through that kind of hell deserved someone genuinely nice, and someone caring and someone full of love and affection. Someone like Lena Oxton.

How could Amélie think so little of herself now? She was such a great person. She was a strong woman, who had managed to survive the worst humanity had to offer. She had skills like no other human on this planet.

But none of these skills were her own, in a way. They were all forced upon her. And maybe that was part of the reason Amélie felt worthless. Like she was a used piece of flesh, not worthy of anything. A science project. A glorified lab rat.

The thought alone made Lena so upset she didn't even know what to do anymore. Nor did she notice that the entire café had become completely silent, all the guests hearing her outburst

"Hey lady!" a man sitting two tables away from them called out for Amélie "Not that it's my business or anything, but trust me, when a girl ever says something like that, you don't ask any questions. You take her hand and count yourself lucky, because she definitely is a keeper. Just a friendly tip from someone happily married for longer than I like to admit."

The customers in the small café all laughed gleefully, apparently getting some kind of amusement out of the situation before they all seemed to return to their own affairs, leaving Amélie and Tracer alone again. Lena quickly slipped back on her chair, rubbing over her eyes. She was blushing pretty violently, for she had not intended to say these things so loudly.

"You never cease to amaze me, chérie" Widow stated simply.

"Don't push me away, Amélie. I'm here for you. Let me help you."

"You have already helped me more than you'll ever know. I'd never push you away, I can promise you that. It's just..."

"I'm with you through all of this, ok? No matter what Talon did to you, it won't stand between us."

"You say that because you don't know everything of what they did. We talked about some things already, but there is so much more. Things I don't fully remember anymore and I'm sure even more things I was forced to completely forget altogether." Amélie said weakly, but Lena shook her head.

"I've seen enough to get an idea" Lena said. "Listen, I haven't told you this before, but... well, Winston had some old video footage which Genji stole from Talon ages ago. There are tapes from your transformation on there. I've seen it. Even before we got together. In fact, I saw it the day I picked you up in that alley. On the day you were shot, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Amélie replied. "You knew all along? Why didn't you...?"

"I'm sorry I never told you. I wanted to know what happened to you, but couldn't ask you. So, I kind of looked it up. Ever since that day, I knew there was a chance. You know... a chance for you and me. For us. I... I'm sorry. I should have told you. But I was afraid you'd be upset because I dug around in your past and since you have been telling me more about the things you remember, I thought maybe there was no need to ever talk about the video files." Tracer slouched her shoulders, hoping this wouldn't develop into a fight. Because if they were to ever fight about anything, it would have most likely been this. Widowmaker's eyes were peering into Lena's in search of something. Like she was trying to get a feel for what was going on in Tracer's head right now.

"I should have told you what little I remember way sooner. But I was always afraid it would change you if you ever found out. I don't know why. You never gave me a reason to think differently, but I was just... I thought there were things which might be too much." Amélie replied silently, and not the least bit angry. They both stayed away from the topic because of the same reason. No hard feelings there.

Lena snorted "It didn't." she said, despite that not being the truth. It did change her. She wanted to help Widowmaker even more, and she wanted to save her more than ever before.

"Now I'm even more certain that I don't deserve you" Amélie said with a teasing smirk, and Lena just chuckled silently, glad that Widow didn't take any offense that Tracer had seen video footage of what Talon did.

"Well, I'm sure you can do something about that tonight" Lena hummed.

Amélie's smirk turned into a slightly carnal grin, but she didn't say anything. A moment later, Sheena was back, placing two cups of steaming hot liquid on the table.

"Here you go" she said, sliding the coffee over to Amélie and the tea and apple pie toward Lena. "You know, it's probably not my place to say this, but I wish my boyfriend could say something like your girl did." she said to Amélie with a sad smile "I might be a bit jealous here, really. I wish you all the best, and I hope you find happiness together. You really seem to deserve it. Your drinks and the cake are on the house."

-/-

Dahelm, Berlin, Germany, 1442 hours, Talon board of directors meeting location

The conference room would have been a nice place. It did have everything which would have been required for hour-long meetings. Comfy chairs, snacks and drinks for all, enough space for everyone to spread out their legs, as well as a large holo-projector which everyone could easily access. The seats had all been positioned around a large table - the glass version of Arthur's round table - facing each other. The holo-projector was placed in the middle and still showed Talon's coat of arms as some kind of screensaver.

Long story short, the conference room was everything someone might have expected from a place the secret board of directors of a worldwide terror organization funded by the most powerful industrial conglomerates would look like.

Talon didn't spare any expenses when it came to its board of directors. Hardly surprising, knowing that the board consisted of the heads of a lot of those industrial conglomerates. Very large, very powerful multinational concerns and business groups, who all joined their efforts when it came to achieving some goals in a maybe slightly illegal way or using not exactly clean methods of obtaining certain desired items.

Ever since they were approached by the illusive man behind Talon, they decided to dedicate a lot of resources to this organization and, in return, they got a private army operating in the shadows, following their every command. It made them billions upon billions of dollars. So much so that the substantial investments they paid Talon faded into nothingness in comparison.

The board of directors would have met in Berlin today to discuss some new business ventures.

They would have.

Alright, strictly speaking, they did, but to be fair, the meeting didn't last long enough for this happening to be called a meeting.

The thirteen members had barely sat down and started with some meaningless small talk when the holo-projection in the middle of the round table started to flicker. It filled with dark grey smoke before the projector shut off and a man clad in a black robe stood in its stead.

"Good evening, gentlemen" his deep voice had grumbled. "I'm sure you all know who I am, so we can spare the introductions" he continued "I came to inform you about some important changes in the structure of this organization."

"What does this mean? Reaper, explain yourself! You aren't supposed to be here. We haven't commissioned any Dark Wing operations." A man with a heavy Indian accent complained loudly.

"That's the beauty of Dark Wing, isn't is, chairman Vishkar? I get to appear wherever I want." he had said. "And I'm sorry to inform you that I'm no longer part of Dark Wing. The big boss has other plans. Unfortunately, those plans don't involve any of you, I'm afraid."

Before anyone had realized what he meant, Reaper had turned the room into an modern art piece painted with red.

Now, barely more than indistinguishable red slobber was left from the thirteen chairmen and their assistants. They all had fell victim to Reaper's death blossoming, seconds of hellfire obliterating not only the conference room, but also the people inside.

It would have been a beautiful room.

If Reaper hadn't shown up.

He stood in the middle of the now completely destroyed round glass table, the shards cracking under his heavy boots as he walked over what was left of the chairman he had talked to. Vishkar had been one of their top supporters. Such a shame. Funding apparently wasn't a problem anymore, or the big boss had found a more reliable source of money.

The door opened a little "Master?" Gerda's voice called out.

"Don't call me that" Reaper growled "You can come in. Job is done."

The door opened further, and the maid the big boss gave Reaper walked inside, carrying two canisters full of gasoline, tiptoeing around bits and pieces of human flesh and somehow managing to not step into any of it. Which was rather impressive considering the density in which the floor was smeared with blood. "But I was given to you. That makes you my master, for I am to serve you from now on."

"You're creeping me out" Reaper said with a deep sigh. He didn't even want to know what they did to her to make her this way. When they put Widowmaker through the mill, she at least retained a bossy attitude and a dangerous aura. Gerda was just turned to... well, into a totally submissive maid. "Please develop a spine."

"Master?" Gerda asked, placing the canisters in front of a growling Reaper.

"Forget it." He sighed, at least as much as Reaper was able to sigh. Sometimes it sounded like he was gurgling with mouth wash. No one ever told him that, for the obvious reason of no one being suicidal enough to say it. "Now that this is taken care of, here is what I want you to do: I need the files of all currently ongoing missions and operations as well as all the closed and completed ones. And I really mean everything. All the secret Dark Wing reports, the official ones and the unofficial ones too. I need all the covert operations from all existing and dissolved task groups. I need everything we have from the former deep cover cells, as well as the former biotech division, before both got... dissolved. I want it all. All of Talon. If I have to run the show, I'll do it properly. I want to know which skeletons we have in the closet, where that closet is now, who got it there, and the key to it as well. Get me everything we have on my... and I can't believe I am actually saying this now... on my desk. Can you do that for me?"

"Certainly, Ma-"

"Eh!" Reaper raised a warning finger.

"...Agent Reyes."

"That's better, at least" he sighed, still not happy with the name she picked, but willing to take it for now.

"I will do my best to get the documents to you as fast as possible."

"Thank you, Gerda" Reaper said, nodding toward the maid. She smiled a brief but very honest smile before she left. Never before did someone say thank you to her.

Reaper was left behind, looking around the destroyed conference room. Well, time to set it to the torch. Better not leave any evidence of what happened here. He grabbed the first canister.

-/-

A/N:

Sooo, that was chapter... which chapter was this again?

"28, patate. Keep track of your own story, would you?"

Ahh, yes, thank you Amélie, chapter 28. To be honest I never thought this would get so much attention and that so many people would enjoy reading my work. It started out with just me messing around a little bit and now look where we are. And I say we, because I couldn't have done anything without you all. So thank you very much, everyone!

Some things concerning the previous chapters:

I didn't want to get into politics or anything when I mentioned Trump in chapter 27, neither did I want to upset anyone. I just thought it would create a nice connection to the real world, since Overwatch takes place in a not too distant future. So I thought it would be cool to see how people in the future might see the events of our time.

Some people expressed concerns regarding Sombra. All I can say is that everything involving her will be explained at the right time and that there is a plan for her. Also, apparently the phrase I used on her was already used in a similar way in Bioshock. That was unintentional, I never played Bioshock past the scene with the crazy surgeon, who wanted to "improve" the beauty of women. At this point I decided that I do prefer my sleep to be without any nightmares and never touched Bioshock again. Yes, I was too scared of it. Call me a chicken, but good god I couldn't play this game for more than ten minutes before I had to pause and never in the dark :D

Anyway, I hope you lot are all fine with the slice of life chapter here, I really wanted to do one where Widow and Tracer can have some peace together. I hope it wasn't boring. Don't worry, more action and intesifying plot will come soon, but I need time to set a few thins up properly. You all know me by now, I like doing things properly, even if it means they will take a bit longer.

Alright, that was it from me today, I hope you all had fun reading! Consider giving me some feedback if you want! Favs/Follows are totally nice, but reviews really make my day :) Or you do both, which would be even more amazing :D

Special thanks, as you all know by now, goes to the three angels and special special thanks to one of them in particular, EhMattissimo, who is beta-reading this like the baus he is!

I'll see you folk in the next one

o7

E82

-/-

If you want to support me and my story, you can do so here:

tipeee com slash e82s-fanfiction

-/-

Translations:

S'il vous plaît (French) = please

bien sûr (French) = of course.

Sacrebleu (French) = damn it

Merde (French) = Shit

patate (French) = dork