A/N:

you can now support this story on Tipeee. I will explain how and why in the next chapter, but until then, here is the link:

tipeee com slash e82s-fanfiction

-/-

Tick

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

When their evening started, Mercy hadn't planned on the ticking noise of the clock in her hotel room being the only sound filling the air. Yet it was. Her evening hadn't been going how she expected it. Not at all. By now she was supposed to be shooed through the sheets by some handsome guy. Naked. Getting her smart brains screwed out.

At least that had been the plan for tonight.

She and Pharah would go to a lovely, cozy bar, Pharah would probably enjoy a pint of beer while Mercy would opt for a glass of red wine. They would enjoy themselves, have a good time and Angela would try and pick someone up for the rest of the night and have some long needed fun. Couldn't be so difficult, Mercy was a tall, fit, blue eyed blonde with the right kind of curves in all the right places after all.

As it usually is with plans, this one didn't survive hard contact either. Not even a moment. It shattered the second Mercy opened the door of her hotel room after someone knocked twice. Pharah was standing outside, wearing a tight fitting suit while leaning against the doorframe. The collar of her white shirt overlapped with the one of her blazer and the top few buttons were undone, giving Fareeha ample cleavage. Her delicious caramel tone skin was such a lovely contrast to the white shirt and fit perfectly to the small golden necklace she was wearing.

They walked to the bar, arms linked because no matter how much Fareeha looked like she took the lead, she was still not able to walk on her own. However, that didn't show at all. Tonight, the usually tight lipped and sometimes slightly awkward warrior was oozing nothing but sheer confidence.

They sat down in a quiet corner of the bar, enjoyed their drinks and Angela listened to Fareeha telling tales of her times at the military and later at Helix Security. How she handled the incident at Giza, when another God-Program went rouge. Fareeha's eyes were sparkling with life when she told Mercy about her life. The dark brown orbs were almost glowing and the smile she wore was one of the brightest and most honest ones Angela had ever seen.

The initial intention of finding someone to have fun with was all but forgotten. In fact, Angela didn't even notice when the other guests started clearing out and they were kindly informed that the bar would close soon. She was so enthralled by the woman accompanying her.

Angela soon noticed that she didn't want to leave the bar, but had to. The short walk back to the hotel was spent in comfortable silence and when they were standing on the hallway in between their rooms, Angela couldn't help but realize that she didn't want to be alone in her room now. For a second Fareeha looked at her with an unreadable expression, and she seemed like there was something she wanted to say, before she looked away instead. The moment had passed and Angela uttered a silent good night, thanking Pharah for the wonderful evening before she quickly slipped into her room.

And now?

Mercy was lying in her bed. Alone and utterly confused what that evening was supposed to tell her. What did it mean? Did it even mean anything or was she just utterly over thinking again? Why was it that she found herself drawn to Pharah so much all of a sudden? She had known her for years, ever since Fareeha was a small girl. But she had lost everything of the shy but oddly curious young girl from once. She had grown up so much. Tall, muscular, serious and yet capable of being silly. And Fareeha was very reliable. All features Mercy definitely considered attractive. That must have meant it's not completely illogical to feel attraction toward her, was it? But was it really attraction? One thing was certain, it surely was no professional care. Angela had taken care of patients enough in the past, and no one had ever provoked that kind of feeling in her.

Dear god, what was happening? What am I doing?

Pharah was a friend. A comrade. A patient. She was considerably younger. She was a woman and...

Angela wasn't into girls. She never had been.

A fact she had stated over and over and over again. On a million different occasions at a million different times and just as many varying situations, in front of anyone and everyone, whenever the topic came up. Which usually was Tracer's fault. And it was the truth. She had never felt attracted to girls.

But... If Angela was completely honest, neither had she toward guys. Sure, there had been meaningless flirts and hookups, but those were just that. Meaningless. During her time at university she could count the numbers of her lovers on a lumberjack's missing hand, because there were none. And after that? Not a lot better, at least not before Lena burst into her life. The truth was, Angela was married to her work and simply didn't entertain the notion of a healthy relationship or even family.

There had always been something more important to do, another test, another patient, another experiment, another simulation. Besides, it wasn't like she'd ever run out of time with the nanoprobes keeping her alive and well forever. There would be time for private life later. Which didn't mean she was lonely, just that her partners usually couldn't keep up with Angela's busy schedule and left quickly. Not that she minded.

What changed?

Did something change at all? Or was it just a momentary phase, something that would pass again? Maybe it was just because she saw how happy Lena and Amélie were together which made her subconsciously jealous? She had never known any of Lena's serious girlfriends. During the whole Emily incident, she was in Africa and hadn't known about Emily until it was already over again. So, Widowmaker was the first of Lena's girlfriends Angela got to know. Maybe it would only take her some getting used to those two being in a relationship until she'd be back to her normal self?

Yeah right. Who was she trying to fool here?

With a very unladylike groan Angela rubbed over her face, staring into the darkness of her room. Maybe she should get up and go to Fareeha's room and-

No.

That was a stupid idea and more likely than not simply the wine talking out of her. She was a mature woman and she would not force herself on Fareeha, her patient, like that. It wouldn't be right to intrude on the other woman's privacy in such an undignified, unprofessional manner. Besides, she was surely fast asleep by now.

Mercy decided she'd talk to Lena about all this someday soon. She needed someone to talk to and despite her weekly sessions with Dr. Laguardia, she was relatively sure this was a matter she'd rather discuss with her best friend. Contrary to what people might believe, Lena always gave very useful advice when it really mattered. Despite being goofy and silly sometimes, she was very much capable of understanding when Mercy needed her to be serious.

In that moment, Angela's phone, placed on the nightstand, buzzed. Reaching for the small device, she had to blink a couple of times, blinded by the sudden bright light of the display. The message was short, but clear.

Are you asleep?

It was from Fareeha. Before Angela could think what on earth she was doing, she had already typed a reply.

No. Come over and chat?

Mercy couldn't believe that she had actually just sent this. She couldn't believe that she had actually acted before she thought about the implications. She never did this. God what was wrong with her these days?!

-/-

In the room directly opposite to Angela's, Fareeha was feeling like a little schoolgirl who had just gotten her first love letter. She laughed happily as she slammed her arms and legs into the mattress repeatedly, just to put that sudden wave of infinite happiness somewhere. That was too good to be true!

She quickly threw the blankets off and sat up in her bed. The lamp on her nightstand more than enough to light up the room well enough. Careful so she wouldn't stumble, Pharah used the pastel colored wall to support herself. On her way to the door she opened the mini-bar located in the wardrobe and took a bottle of red wine from it, before she grabbed her room's white key-card and shoved it into her bra. She knew that most women hated wearing their bra. Fareeha didn't. It gave her an odd sense of safety, so she liked to keep hers on most of the time.

It was the middle of the night and most people would be deep asleep by now, so the injured soldier didn't bother with more decent clothes. She kept her scandalously skimpy but impossibly comfortable shorts on and made her way to Angela's room. It was literally two steps away from hers and she could already knock. No one would see and they were both girls. Also, Fareeha might have had some ulterior motives, which she didn't admit to herself.

The door was immediately pulled open and Fareeha had to gulp, reminding herself to say something and not just stand in the brightly lit hallway with its soft red carpeting and gawk awkwardly.

Angela was wearing a white night gown. Most likely made from exquisite silk. But it was... see-through. And Mercy apparently didn't share Fareeha's fondness for bras. Is the doctor maybe cold?

Angela wouldn't have noticed Pharah staring if someone had drawn a line along her line of sight. Her eyes were glued to the other woman's incredibly toned abs. Those. Abs. She swallowed.

"I... uhm... brought some wine. Maybe we can share?" Fareeha offered, trying her best to hide her sudden insecurity.

"Gerne!" Mercy beamed. "Come in. I'll get some glasses for us."

Soon they were sitting on the bed, each drinking wine from a tooth glass taken from the bathroom, giggling like schoolgirls. The same small lamp on the nightstand which was illuminating light in Fareeha's room was doing the same job now and was all that provided a warm but comfortably dim light.

-/-

A faint pounding noise caused Amélie to open her eyes. She didn't want to wake up, yet alone get up, but the banging of something against wood was getting more and more annoying. After blinking the sleep away, she quickly realized that someone had to be at the door. Who was that bothering them at this hour? She leaned over to catch a glimpse on the nightstand without moving too much. There was a digital clock there.

08:23

Who knocks on the door at this hour like their survival depended on it?

A tired groan got Widow's attention, Lena moved in her arms, rubbing over her eyes with the back of her hands while snuggling closer to Amélie's naked body. Her chronal accelerator was sitting on a chair next to the bed. With the new version Winston made, Lena just needed to be in the close proximity of the device. Like in the same room. It made things a lot easier for them without Winston knowing.

"...loud..." Lena mumbled, pulling at the blanket and sticking her head out. Tracer's hair was the usual morning mess. Amélie smiled gently and kissed her girlfriend softly on her head.

"Sleep. I'll get the door." She whispered softly, carefully disentangling herself from Lena's embrace and slipping out of bed. On the way to the door she lazily slipped on her coat from the day before and opened the door.

"C'est quoi ton problème, connard?!" she snarled with a venomous bite in her voice. The angry glare in her eyes quickly vanished when she faced Mercy and Pharah, the former sporting a slight blush on her cheeks and the latter turning away awkwardly.

"Amélie, you might want to actually close your coat..." Mercy said carefully, causing Widow to look down on herself. She had just pulled the coat around her and it quickly came loose when she yanked the door open. Now it was hanging off her shoulders, not hiding much.

"Nothing you haven't seen before" Widow shrugged, but closed her coat around her otherwise naked body. "Now, what is so important that you had to knock for a solid 10 minutes?"

"I've been trying to call you, Headquarters told us that vacation is over. Can we come in?" Angela said, obviously not willing to talk about anything more specific in the stairwell.

Amélie looked back and forth between Fareeha and Mercy, apparently thinking for a moment. It wasn't her apartment after all. "I guess so?" she half stated, half asked and stepped aside to let her friend and the patient she at least didn't hate in. "Lena! Angela is here." She called, heading to the bedroom, not bothering with offering Mercy a seat or something.

Pharah looked around in the comfortable place Lena owned. It actually had a lot of charm and mirrored the character of its owner perfectly. It was a little messy, but also really cute and hospitable. It was easy to feel welcome and at home in this place. She decided to ignore the trail of discarded clothes leading toward the bedroom. Clothes that obviously were not from Tracer alone.

"Am I the only one who did not exactly expect Widowmaker to open the door?" Fareeha asked Mercy.

"We dropped her off here yesterday. She had to sleep somewhere, oder nicht?" Angela replied neutrally.

"Yes. Somewhere. Angela, you did realize that she was naked, right?" Fareeha asked and Mercy turned around to say something, but didn't get to do it. Tracer walked down the corridor, wearing a white blouse which was way too large for her.

Widow was storming out of the bedroom with her arms held forward, as if she was trying to stop Lena from leaving the bedroom, but it was already too late.

"Morning," Lena mumbled, walking past Pharah and Mercy and heading toward the kitchen. Widowmaker's arms fell to her side and she let out a deep sigh.

"Someone want a coffee? Angela? Blueberry?" Tracer's voice could be heard out of the kitchen together with the sound of cups rattling and water being poured. A coffee-machine started running and suddenly Lena's head appeared out of the kitchen door. "Wait a second. Pharah? What are you doing-" she looked at Widowmaker, who glared at her girlfriend, for two reasons. One being the nickname she just used in front of two strangers, the other was that she had been wearing her white blouse and nothing else. Angela just looked back and forth between Widowmaker, Tracer and Pharah, while the latter couldn't help but stare with her mouth hanging open.

"Close your mouth it's ugly" Widow said, as she walked past Pharah, obviously intent on having a word with Lena.

She didn't do mornings well.

Not at all.

A smirk appeared on Angela's face. "Blueberry?" she repeated with a cheeky grin, cocking her head. She only got a groan as a reply, followed by some intense French cursing.

-/-

Russia, St. Petersburg, Volskaya Industries, 1423 hours

Katya Volskaya was sitting in a meeting with her board of directors, discussing a multitude of urgent matters concerning the company, its profits, its problems, the employees, future plans and many, many other different numbers and graphs.

Lady Volskaya was absent mindedly rolling a pen in between her fingers, a few sheets of paper sprawled out in front of her on the large glass desk where all the members of her board were seated. Her eyes were fixed to the holographic projection on the other end of the table, where a young man in a white lab coat was presenting a new technology which could help them reduce their energy demand by almost fifty percent.

Which meant they would save also fifty percent of their energy costs. Which would save them some serious money.

So, Katya listened. The man was nervous, she could tell, but he was also highly competent, which she also could tell. He was just starting to explain the exact workings of his improvements when her phone started vibrating. Luckily none of the board members noticed, Katya hated interruptions and it would have been embarrassing if she would have been the cause for one. The tough Russian businesswoman picked the phone up and looked at the screen, not recognizing the caller ID. She muted the device and placed it back on the table.

A few moments later the device demanded attention again, and again the caller was shut up, this time with an annoyed frown on Katya's stern features. She adjusted her position in her seat, making sure that her outfit consisting of a white lady's suit, black stockings with heels, as well as two sliver earrings was still Immaculate. Which of course it was. She returned her attention back to the ongoing presentation, happy to notice that she was still easily able to keep up.

The phone buzzed a third freaking time, this time only once.

Katya reached out and placed her hand on the device. Did she really want to distract herself a third time? Did she? She had a bad feeling when she turned her phone on and looked at the screen.

A mistake.

All color drained from her face and the otherwise ever composed Lady Volskaya let the phone drop out of her hand and onto the glass table. The noise was like thunder in the meeting room, all heads turned toward her.

"Director Volskaya? Are you feeling unwell?" a gaunt elderly man with huge glasses and lanky, bony fingers asked, his voice was croaky and rough. He had been smoking for decades it seemed.

Katya didn't react. She just stared at her now empty hand, like the phone was still there. She could still see the text message there.

You look radiant in that white outfit, amiga.

I'm hurt you don't answer my calls, but you're busy. It's fine. You can make it up to me tonight, 21:00 at the Helios club. I have a private room for us :P

It's a date?

"Miss Volskaya?"

"Are you alright, Director?"

She stood from her chair, grabbed her phone and rushed toward the door."Excuse me, gentlemen. We need to pick this up another time."

She had a call to make.

-/-

France, unknown time, unknown place

Thiery Savant was standing next to a chess board, heavy white stone pieces, way larger than they usually are, were standing on their appropriate positions. Except for a knight, which had jumped over the pawn in front of it and into the field.

The other pieces weren't made from the same exquisite stone. They were holographic and not yet moved. Placed around him were a multitude of screens and displays with some operators placed in chairs in front of them.

The game of chess helped him keep his calm.

Because the bigger game had begun and there was no turning back anymore. It was a lot like chess after all. Moving pieces. Calculating the opponents moves and adjusting his own. It all was a matter of strategy.

"Thiery!" a man in a navy blue suit and golden tie called out to him, walking over to where Savant was eyeing the chess board carefully.

"Abraxas." Savant nodded at the blonde man who carried a light brown leather suitcase with him, the surface soft and smooth. "What do you have for me?"

"I am afraid that I'm the bringer of bad news. I contacted Director Volskaya like you wanted me to. I offered her everything we agreed upon, but, as I told you it would happen, she didn't reach out to us."

Savant stared at the other man for a moment, before turning his attention to the chess board. Black had moved a piece by now and Savant was stroking his chin. His skin was pale with very faint scars running over the edges of every corner of his face. They would soon disappear.

"I see," Savant replied after a long moment of silence, Abraxas Schrodinger only looked at his boss incredulously.

"That's it?" he asked. "What about your suspicion that-" Savant rose a hand

"You will come up with the according paperwork which indicates that Volskaya agreed to our deal. Make sure it appears on Gerda's desk. She will forward it accordingly."

-/-

Watchpoint Gibraltar, the same day, 1704 hours, hangar 2

The sounds of the dying engines were still echoing inside the hangar halls and the footsteps of the many people running around going about their jobs were creating a constant background noise when four people disembarked from the freshly landed Orca. A pneumatic valve opened somewhere on the shuttle and a cloud of steam hissed onto the ground while the four passengers stepped on the loading ramp.

Mercy was rubbing her stinging cheek. "That was unnecessary." She pouted and looked over at Amélie, who wasn't even thinking about making eye contact. In fact, she turned away further with an arrogant snort.

"I told you I would slap you if you called me that again." She hissed. "You were warned. But you still used it."

"But it's such a cute nickname" Angela countered.

"And it's not yours to use." Widow insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. It was almost like a little child who was about to stomp on the ground just to underline her stubbornness.

"Fine, fine." Angela couldn't help but giggle a little.

At the end of the ramp stood Commander Morrison, waiting impatiently. He was nervously tapping his foot to the ground, yet his face didn't betray any emotion, just as usual.

"Oi, boss, if you want me on vacation, you gotta actually give me some vacation and not just three days." Tracer called, but the easy smile she had on her lips quickly faded. "What's wrong?"

"Something urgent came up. Mission briefing is in five minutes at the command room. DVa and Zarya are already waiting for us." The Commander stated. "Come along, we are on a schedule." He said and pointed toward the exit door, waiting for Lena to exchange a quick glance with Widow. His best agent turned back to him after only a moment and left in the direction of the main exit, a confident swing in her hips.

Morrison was about to follow her, but didn't. Instead he turned back to face Pharah, who up until this moment hadn't said anything. She had watched the constant teasing between Lena, Widowmaker and Angela with interest while they were in transit back from London, but didn't speak up. She felt like she could learn a lot more by simply watching them go back and forth. It was obvious that Lena and Amélie were in a relationship of some sort. However serious that relationship was, Pharah did not know and it didn't matter. What mattered was, that Mercy obviously knew about this for some time and that she encouraged it. The way Amélie acted around the doctor also made it safe to say that the former Talon assassin was rather comfortable around Angela. Interesting. Fareeha thought. I might have to talk to someone soon.

She noticed Morrison's pointed stare in the corner of her eye and snapped out of her daydreaming.

"Commander?" she asked with a slight blush of shame on her dark skin.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Amari?" the Commander asked with a level voice, ignoring her embarrassing zoning-out.

"I'm getting better, Sir." She replied sharply.

"Good. I expect you back in operational duty asap." He said with a curt nod, before he also turned and left the same way Tracer did.

"Yes, Sir" Pharah replied. It wasn't like that was exactly what she wanted to do herself.

Everyone missed how Widowmaker had narrowed her eyes and glared at the commander. No one noticed the ever so faint movement of his hand which indicated later, either.

-/-

Half an hour after the briefing

"Unni, why did you agree to take that woman with us?" Hana asked, frustration written all over her face as she packed her stuff into a small storage container inside the very same Orca shuttle they used to travel from London to the Watchpoint. "She is only going to cause trouble!"

"Hana, we have orders." Tracer groaned, also packing her kit into a container "And she will not."

"But she is evil. Just look at those eyes of hers. She glares at people all the time!" Hana continued, not noticing that Amélie had actually walked up to them. The assassin stuck her hips out teasingly while spinning a knife in her hand like it was a pen, not a dangerously sharp blade. She did so with such impressive precision, it would have seemed like a safe assumption that Widowmaker hadn't been doing anything else in her life.

"Remind me, why exactly are we bringing a child for this?" Widow sneered, causing DVa to jump and spin around and glare at the other woman, bracing her hands against her hips in a pouty manner.

"Who are you calling a child?!" DVa cried angrily.

"You." Widowmaker stated coolly, her eyes, which had been lingering on Lena until now, snapped to Hana and the ex pro gamer felt herself swallow heavily. That woman was, after all, just as scary as she always thought. But Hana wouldn't back down. She never gave in, otherwise she would have never made it to the top. And she was always #1.

"I'm not a child!" she insisted "I'm a soldier! But I guess a murderer like you would never understand that!"

"Hana..." Lena said carefully, not liking where this conversation was heading at all.

"Oh, no, no. Let her talk her mind, oui? I want to hear that." Widow scoffed with a smirk, putting the knife away into a sheath strapped to her leg.

"I may be young, but I have everything it takes! I have proven myself in my country long before I joined Overwatch, ok? I am the best mech-pilot there is! I always get the job done and I do it honorably and for a just cause." Hana said with conviction. She truly believed what she said.

Widowmaker could barely muster a pitiful smile as she leaned forward. "You have what it takes?" she asked, her voice mocking, while she leaned closer to Hana. Lena could only stand by and watch in disbelieve. She should have stopped that. She should have told Widow to back down. But for some reason she couldn't.

"Tell me, child, have you ever killed?" Widowmaker whispered, starting to walk around the smaller girl like a tiger circling his prey. "And I'm not talking about an Omnic, sitting in your mech. Have you ever taken a life? A human life? Held someone in your arms as you slit their throat? Felt the warmth of their blood run down your body and ruin your clothes? The rush? The excitement! You against them, and you came out on top? You just took a life, and it will never be again. It perished forever at your hands. Have you, mhhh?" Widow hummed, her voice way too sensual while she continued making her circles around the young soldier.

"Have you pulled the trigger of a gun aimed at someone's head? Have you seen their skulls explode at your doing? Have you done it? Felt it? Smelled it, the fear, the blood?" Widowmaker placed her hands on DVa's shoulders, causing the other woman to flinch, and Amélie to smirk. "Have you heard it? The last gasps they make, so desperately clinging to what's left of their life? Have you seen it? The begging expression in their face, full of hope, full of regret, which vanishes so quickly once they realize: There is no mercy for them. They will die. You fought. And you won. Have you felt the excitement of adrenaline in your veins once you realize it was either you, or them? And you came out on top? Have you, child?" Widow purred into DVa's ear, causing each and every hair in her neck to stand straight up.

Hana caught her breath, a silent squeal escaping over her pale lips. Somehow, she had a very clear picture in her mind with every word and every detail Widowmaker whispered, like she ushered the words straight into her soul. "N-No..." she breathed "I haven't." a part of her determination started to return to her. She would not continue to shake in fear, just because that woman was near her. Lena was still here, too, she had nothing to worry about. Hana was sure, that her unni was perfectly capable of besting the purple demon on her own, should it come to that. Besides, they were two versus one. "And I'm proud of that. I fight fairly and with honor. There is no need for killing like you do. I am a soldier, you are a murderer."

"Foolish child" Widowmaker hissed, and suddenly DVa felt a rough pull on her shoulders.

She felt the floor under her feet shift and before she even knew what was happening, Hana crashed to the hard metal floor with a painful ooompf, pushing all air out of her lungs. She usually took pride in her prized reflexes, but she had no chance to even realize what was going on. From one blink of an eye to the next, Widowmaker was on top of her, pinning Hana's arms under her knees, the hard bone digging painfully into her muscles. The knife Widowmaker had been playing with earlier was suddenly pressed to Hana's throat, hard enough to almost draw blood.

"Oy, Amélie!" Lena cried, but Widowmaker rose a hand to stop her. To DVa's absolute horror, it worked. Tracer didn't do anything.

"Tell me, did I fight fairly?" Widow hissed, her eyes fixed to Hana, who had the same expression on her face which she had described before.

"No!" DVa pressed out.

"Non, indeed. And see where you are, and where I am. You perish. I live. Is there honor in this?" she asked before she made a dismissing tsk- noise. "ridicule. There is no honor in combat. Any soldier who saw war and lived will tell you. Don't believe me? Go to the plains of Stuttgart, to the Australian outback, or what's left of Korea's south coast and ask if honor mattered. You will find that the corpses of a million dead honorable soldiers cannot answer." Widowmaker snarled.

The sound of footsteps walking up to them got her attention and she turned her head away for a moment. A young corporal was standing in the shuttle, looking irritated.

"Uhm... Agen... Miss... Widowmaker?" he started carefully as Amélie looked at him and nodded. She got up from pinning Hana to the ground and put away the knife in one fluent motion. Hana continues to lay on the ground.

"You see, child, it's not about honor, or fairness. It's about staying alive. And nothing is too unfair, too dishonorable or too unjust for that goal. You either live. Or you die. Never forget that." Widowmaker said, before she turned to the man who had just arrived.

Lena just stood there and gawked. Nowhere in hell had she expected that there would be an actual lesson that Widowmaker would teach here. She was even more surprised to find herself agreeing to everything her girlfriend just said.

Widow nodded at the newcomer. "What do you want?" she asked.

The corporal handed her a clear red acrylic plate with an envelope encased inside "Your orders from Commander Morrison. You are to open them only after you are airborne."

"Understood." Widow replied curtly and the corporal nodded. For a moment he seemed to ponder if he should salute to her, but he seemed to decide against it. It wasn't like Widowmaker was his superior. And even if she was, he would have never respected her.

Turning around she found Lena helping DVa back to her feet.

"You know, she has a point with what she said, you know that, right?" Lena said gently.

"How can you say that, Unni?" Hana panted.

"Because it's true."

"But Reinhardt-"

"Is a genetically enhanced super soldier, living by a strict codex. His hammer weighs more than your mech does. And he swings that thing with one arm. Are you sure you want to compare yourself to him?"

"No..." Hana looked away.

"See. I know you don't like her, but Widowmaker has a lot of experience. You can learn a thing or two from her. She didn't survive for this long, because she made mistakes, you know?"

"Maybe. Still, I don't have to like her." Hana insisted and rushed off to the other end of the shuttle, where Zarya was busy storing her behemoth of a gun away.

Amélie and Lena exchanged a glance.

"Didn't know you had such potential to be a teacher." Lena giggled "Maybe I should suggest to Morrison that you train the next batch of elite sniper."

Widow snorted "I'd rather hang myself." She replied.

"So..." Lena started looking at Amélie expectedly.

"So... what?"

"You got extra orders? What's that about? I mean, I'm glad that Morrison decided to send you along for this mission and that he also decided to put you to active duty, but I'll admit I'm a bit curious. First you run off with him to god knows where, then he sends you out on missions with secret orders?"

"Who said they are secret?" Widow asked.

"They aren't?"

"Yeah, they are."

"See! My point. So, are you going to tell me or what? What's the big fuzz about all of a sudden?" Lena wanted to know and froze at the sight of her girlfriend. She was suddenly pale as a corpse and her eyes betrayed an emotional pain so intense that Lena had to look away. "Sorry." She muttered, quickly reaching out to squeeze Amélie's hand for a second. "I know I promised I wouldn't ask any questions. You can't talk about it, that's alright. Forget I said anything. I'm just an overly curious babblemouth, ignore me" she laughed.

"I wish I could tell you, chérie. I really do." Amélie's voice was bitter and sour. She still heard the Commander in her head. You will tell no one about this. And I mean no one, not even Tracer. Especially not Tracer. She will tell Mercy and Mercy will put it in her records, because she is thorough and does everything by the book. Records can be read and we don't want that. Besides, I really can do without Angela talking my ears off because she disagrees with this. You will tell no one. Understood? Should you do, the deal is off.

Lena sighed. "I trust you. If you say you can't, you can't. I'm sure you have your reasons."

"Merci"

"I love you, blueberry." Lena smiled "Now let's go and catch ourselves a hacker. Wonder what we'll do with her once we have her, but hey. Who knows what she might be good for. Condom concept, am I right?"

"What?" Widowmaker frowned.

"Condom concept?" Lena laughed "Never heard that?"

"I'm not sure if I should have?" Widowmaker half asked, half stated carefully. She really wasn't certain if she wanted to know.

"Condom concept: Better have some and not need them, than need them and not have them." She laughed. "Same with Sombra. We don't know what we need her for, but hey, we'll have her around just in case."

"I fail to see when you would have ever needed condoms." Amélie remarked dryly in an attempt to tease her lover. Tracer however was completely unfazed as she replied.

"Prevents mud and water from running into your rifle's barrel" Lena shrugged like it was the most obvious application for the little rubber socks. "Also, it holds water just fine."

Widow blinked before she also shrugged "Fair enough." She said, following her girlfriend deeper into the Orca.

-/-

A/N:

The condom joke was just. Bad. I know. But I will not apologize for it! Never! Yeah ok, sorry. It won't happen again, promised-

"Hey, can you take me to town, please?"

-Uh? Sure? Why?

"Well, I need something for Lena."

-Don't tell me you are starting to shop for Christmas presents now?

"Hush, I was busy."

-With what exactly, Amélie?

"The less you know, the better for you."

-Very reassuring Amélie. You know I can't keep you out of prison forever, yes?

"Oui, oui. Can we go now?"

Alright, I'll take that troublemaker to town so she can buy some presents

"I'm not a troublemaker!"

Oh, she is. Anyway. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's my early Christmas present to you in a way, I guess? As I said, I will be taking a little vacation these days so it's definitely the last chapter for this year. I'll be seeing you all alive and well in 2018. Enjoy the holidays, spend time with your loved ones and family (should you love them) and have a great time.

Beta work yet again done by Jfb715! Thanks a lot mate, I greatly appreciate your effort!

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Until next time my friends

o7

E82

-/-

Translations:

Gerne= (German) I'd love to.

C'est quoi ton problème, connard?! = (French) What's your problem, moron?