Prisoner of Peace
By Mooncatx the Bliss Crimson
Amelie LaCroix - Widowmaker
The tingle of healing brought Amelia awake. Blinking, she recognized the practice range where she had her Biotic Gun battle with McCree, followed by fiercely passionate sex. She was covered with Jesse McCree's shirt, his arms still wrapped around her. His scent clung to her skin like she'd bathed in him. She let out a little moan… A delicious ache pervaded her entire being. The ache of pure, animal satisfaction.
Stretching out, catlike, Amelie went from lying with McCree, to standing alone. Her legs didn't even wobble. She was actually proud of that, since at the moment Amelie wasn't sure she had bones anymore. Angela's black lace and velvet shirt slid back on as if it had never been roughly dragged off her body so that McCree could ravage her naked flesh. She ran her fingers back through her tousled hair, trying to tame it into something more orderly looking, less ridden hard and put away wet. The cowboy only had on his boots, denim jeans, and a smile. His eyes were lazy with satisfaction. She wasn't the only one to have enjoyed their faire des galipettes.
"Feeling good, sugar cube?" He asked, tapping one of the biotic pistols by his hand, "Looked like you needed a little pick me up."
She watched him pull on his shirt with lazy contentment still pooling through her veins. The poncho he just threw over one shoulder, not bothering to settle it in it's usual manner.
"Qui réchauffe le cœur" Amelie replied, a slight smile on her lips "I feel like a new woman."
Without needing to speak, they each fell into a comfortable quiet as they straightened up the practice range, putting the guns back into their secure lockers. They left as they had come, but in much better spirits. Amelie strangely had a feeling to smile at nothing.
Gabriel Reyes - Reaper
Reaper listened to the voice over the secured line, glad his mask kept anyone from seeing his expression. The shocks of the day just kept coming.
"..been confirmed by our informants in Overwatch, that LaCroix has switched her allegiance. Commander Morrison made general announcements through the internal Overwatch public address systems for Overwatch personnel to consider Widowmaker as part of Overwatch."
Reaper said nothing. It was a given that if Widowmaker had turned her coat, then as her team mates, he and Sombra would be under highest scruitiney.
"You and Sombra are to establish contact with LaCroix. If she is being held by Overwatch under duress, you are to extract her for debrief at main HQ in Rome. Make no mistake, the high ups are paying personal attention to the situation. If Widowmaker has been recruited by Overwatch, become compromised in truth, you are to execute a full in field interrogation and terminate with extreme prejudice."
"Understood. Reaper out" Gabriel acknowledged the orders and cut the transmission.
"Are we really going to off la Araña?" Sombra had already packed and was ready to go, everything she needed in a small duffle bag already slung over one shoulder.
"We will do our job according to orders." Reaper stated. Mind already racing over exit strategies. Even if Widowmaker were being held against her will, even if the remaining team followed orders to the exact detail, this could go wrong in the worst way. They probably were already under surveillance.
Reaper put a finger over where his mouth would be on the mask, shaking his head slowly, and continued to speak, "If she has no good explanation for her actions, we will terminate with extreme predjudice."
"Ohhh kay." Sombra got the message. She wondered if mind blowing sex counted as a good reason. Probably not. But, hey! They had orders that would allow them to infiltrate Overwatch HQ. Maybe she should sample some of the goodies for herself! Bonus!"
Reaper watched a little smile light up Sombra's face and wondered what she was thinking. Then decided he was better off NOT knowing.
Amelie LaCroix - Widowmaker
McCree and Amelie had returned to Angela's rooms, to rejoin Dr. Ziegler and Reinhardt for an afternoon debrief that was scheduled later. While she was not clinging to Jesse's arm, Amelie was planning to stick close to Angela and McCree as physically possible, until she had established allies. It would do her little good to allow Doctor Ziegler to remove her kill switches, only to have one of Amelie's new Overwatch team mates to do the honors.
Angela was strangely quiet. Several times it seemed as if she wanted to discuss something with her and McCree, only to turn interesting shades of red, and walk off. Finally McCree took the bull by the horns and confronted the blonde woman.
"Spit it out, Doctor Ziegler, " McCree planted himself in front of Angela, "You're walking around like a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."
Angela's expression was tightly shuttered, but she gave off waves of discomfort.
"There is no good way to say this." Angela finally said.
Amelie's eyes narrowed. Whatever the doctor wanted to discuss with them, was clearly not going to be good.
"Earlier I accessed security footage. To check up on you." Angela was now a deep rose shade, but she continued, face flaming. "There are cameras in the practice ranges."
McCree face palmed. Amelie laughed. Was that all?
"Did you see anything you liked, mon ange?" Amelie asked, watching the color in the doctor's face grow even more red. She wondered if Angela had watched ALL the cameras had captured, and if she'd made a copy for herself.
"What I am trying to tell you both, I put the camera feed under security lockdown, top officer access only!"
"Rank hath it's privilege?" Amelie questioned dryly, and then it was Jesse McCree's turn to laugh.
"Laugh, both of you! But I am not the only one who accessed that feed!" Angela continued, arms crossed, glaring at both Amelie and McCree and their inappropriate amusement.
Sobering, McCree shot Angela a look of concern, "Who?"
Closing her eyes, Angela had to take a moment, before revealing the rest. "Morrison. And… someone designated as Grand Pooh Bah Sugar Skull?"
"Sombra." Amelie identified the hacker, and pinched the bridge of her nose, not sure now whether to laugh or cry. "She was part of my Talon team from Morocco. She probably was trying to track me down. Looks like she succeeded. Talon knows I'm with Overwatch."
McCree and Ziegler both stared at her, a mix of grim understanding and sympathy.
"Annnd.. Depending on Sombra's mood, McCree and I may wind up the stars of a World Net sex vid."
"Surely you are joking!" Angela exclaimed, a stricken look in her blue eyes.
McCree looked like someone had knocked the air out of him.
"It will blow over." Amelie shrugged her shoulders, "It's not like it can damage my reputation any more than being one of the best at professional murder in the world."
"Guess I gotta work on my autograph." McCree had decided to take the lighter view of recent events, seeing as Amelie wasn't coming apart over it.
"And requests for private performances." Amelie added deadpan.
"Are you both mad?" Angela Ziegler was the most upset of the three, and she wasn't even in the damn video feed!
Not that she wanted to be with the assassin and the cowboy that way. She was not feeling left out at all. She was concerned for them, because they didn't seem to have the sense to be concerned for themselves.
"You two are utterly without shame! Everyone might be watching you both screwing like rabbits RIGHT NOW!" she admonished, trying to get across how serious the situation was.
"Then this might be the best time to go grab some grub." McCree opined, his stomach beginning to growl. "If everyone is busy watching porn, it will cut the lines down in the commissary."
Amelie watched the blonde woman biting her lower lip, trying to keep her composure in the face of their indifference. Gently, unsure why she needed to, the former Talon assassin reached out and stroked the softness of Angela's flushed check, trying to sooth the doctor's distress.
"Do not be so upset for us, mon ange. If we were bothered by people seeing us , we would not have shared our bodies in a public place. I am bien dans sa peau. Comfortable in my skin."
Amelie drew closer to the Overwatch doctor, noting how very blue, and wide her eyes were. Bringing her lips close to Angela's ear, she felt the blonde woman shiver as she spoke softly, "I kill people as my profession, by comparison, uncomplicated sex is the most innocent of pastimes."
Angela made a quiet, half strangled sound in the back of her throat, then bolted for the door. "Fine! If you two are not bothered, neither am I!"
The high color in her cheeks belied the doctor's spoken words, but in accord, Jesse McCree and Amelie decided to take the doctor's acceptance at face value.
"Then let us go to lunch. I'm hungry too." Angela stated more firmly, certain that keeping her mouth full of food would probably keep her from saying anything more that could make the situation more awkward. Could it get more awkward? She didn't want to find out.
Overwatch HQ Food Court
Apparently, no sex tapes were distracting Overwatch personnel. The commissary was packed. As Angela's small group moved it's way towards the cafeteria style lunch bar, they were joined by Reinhardt and a russet haired girl, so fresh faced she seemed to be barely legal.
"...les prendre au berceau." Amelie murmured to herself. It was almost indecent, how young Overwatch was recruiting.
"This is my goddaughter, Brigitte!" Reinhardt was obviously proud of the girl, introducing her to Amelie. She took it as a positive sign that he felt comfortable enough to introduce someone he cared about to a seasoned killer.
"Enchanté, Brigitte. I am Amelie LaCroix. You may call me Amelie."
Amelie held out her hand to the girl, who clasped it briefly, as if to evaluate the woman before her by the grip of the seemingly delicate violet blue hand. Brigitte's expression was neutral.
"Widowmaker." Brigitte's voice was clear, carrying. People around them paused, and the whispers were audible, surrounding them like the rustle of leaves in a strong fall wind.
Amelie felt a prickle of danger, the fine hair at the nape of her neck all but rising as dozens of unfriendly eyes now openly scoped her out, taking in the black lace and velvet, the boots, the hair she'd taken a moment to comb out, still long and loose over her shoulders. The former Talon agent before them in the cool, violet blue flesh.
"If you prefer." Amelie's voice was calm, casually shifting her stance to combat ready. She had told Angela she wouldn't start anything. But were something to begin, the assassin would not go down without a fight.
"Welcome to Overwatch." Brigette's open acceptance sent another wave of whispers through onlookers.
"Ce fut un plaisir" Amelie's response was quiet, but clear, "It's been my pleasure."
She heard McCree coughing into his hand, beside her. Angela shot the cowboy a warning look.
"Wilhelm, will you and Brigitte be joining us?" Angela asked the duo.
"Thank you for the invitation, Mercy." Reinhardt spoke, voice booming thunder, "We'll be going to debrief together afterwards. Brigitte, get us a table, I'll bring a tray for you!"
Following her godfather's directive, Brigitte went to secure them a place to sit in the already crowded eating area. Amelie didn't doubt the girl would succeed at her mission. The intense regard of the room had slipped away, though there were still looks and whispers, the sense of potential threat had ebbed. There was more Reinhardt's goddaughter than her fresh face. Amelie filed the information away, and went to fill a food tray.
A bowl of mixed fresh fruits. A cup of yogurt. A slice of grilled chicken breast, followed by a half portion of baked cod. She contemplated the dessert section. There was one slice of carrot cake. It had far too much cream cheese frosting, but since Talon knew she was alive and at Overwatch HQ, she would probably be assassinated before the calories could turn to fat. A half smile on her lips, she put it on her tray, and followed the others to the table Brigitte had taken and held for them. As she seated herself, Amelie heard a pure wail of distress echo through the commissary.
Heads turned, then dismissed the mournful cry as Tracer dramatically pointed to the empty dessert slot. "My carrot cake! Robbed! I've been robbed, I say!"
"Lena! I told you we should have gotten lunch first!" Hana Song scolded her friend, "No one cares what you wear to the commissary."
Both girls were in matching shorts and camisole top sets. Hana in blush peach, and Tracer in sunny daffodil yellow. They'd even gotten themed barrettes, Hana's, her stylized bunny logo, and Tracer's, a set of stylized wings.
"But, nobody EVER chooses the carrot cake but me!" Lena complained, "That's why they normally set out just one piece!"
"So, someone else felt like carrot cake today, it's not the end of the world." the mech pilot sniffed, "Get something else. Look, there is chocolate brownies! We can both get one! If we're doing twinsies today, it will look super cute on my vlog! C'mon! Winkie face!"
Amelie looked at her tray. Everyone else at the table looked at her tray. Rather, they looked at the single slice of carrot cake there. Shrugging one shoulder, Amelie took her fork, and slid it into the luscious cream cheese frosting. As if sensing her presence, Tracer's head turned slowly in the former Talon agent's direction. Eyes blinking in disbelief, Tracer watched the first bite of her prized desert slide between a pair of soft blue lips.
"Mmm… " Amelie moaned, her pleasure unfeigned. It tasted good. She licked the remains of the frosting off the fork slowly, and slid a sly glance at the time traveling Overwatch agent.
"There just ain't no justice." Tracer whispered.
To be continued.