The Talk

A Widowtracer Overwatch story by Asylumchild

Overwatch and all characters within are trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment. This is a work of fan fiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only. No copyright violations are intentional. All people, places, and situations are completely fictional and no relation to anyone real living or deceased.

Author's Note: The first two chapters of this story will give you a swift, hard kick in the feels. Just grab a tissue, dry your eyes, and keep reading. It gets better, I promise! - AC.

The world could use more heroes, but sometimes, being a hero has a high price to pay to save the day. The unsung heroes of Overwatch have fought many wars, seen defeat, seen battle and death, and experienced things that put their minds, bodies, and hearts to the limits. Sometimes, one has to wonder if it is all worth it in the end.

1

Lena and Emily's flat, London, England.

It was getting late. She hadn't made it home in time for supper and Emily wondered if it was to be another night of waiting while it got cold. After a few hours, she ate a portion of her own and, with still no Lena in sight, packed up the remaining dishes to put in the ice box for leftovers. She could always reheat it later if she got hungry. If she ever got home, that is.

As she packed away the lukewarm food, Emily began to worry. It seemed it was like this more often than not lately. She knew Lena Oxton was also the infamous Tracer of Overwatch. She also knew that Overwatch was disbanded and any of their acts, no matter how heroic in nature, were deemed illegal. She accepted that her girlfriend and live-in lover was a vigilante. She wondered what the perky girl had gotten herself into this time.

As she made her way to the sofa cradling a hot cup of cocoa (something she wanted to share with Lena who was MIA), her eyes fell to the cellphone sitting on the coffee table silent and forlorn. Emily could relate. It wasn't like she could call her and see if she was going to make it home anytime soon. She could be out doing God-knows-what God-knows-where and would probably not be in a good position to receive a call or a text.

Emily sighed as she sat down and thought about what Lena would say if she did answer. Probably something like "Sorry, Love, I'm kinda … in a gun fight right now. Be home soon I hope." Then there would be an explosion or some other crazy thing and she'd say "um, Emily, let me call you back … I love you."

Emily shook her head as the crazy thought came and went. Like that would happen. Her mind whirled with all sorts of possibilities, some more unpleasant than others. What if there was an explosion and she was in the middle of it. What if she were out fighting someone like that Widowmaker person she was always talking about and the assassin had hurt her. What if she were dead. Emily felt herself grow cold at that last thought. The creeping feeling up her spine made her physically shiver and the cocoa felt really hot in her hands as her skin turned clammy.

No, Emily, told herself, you are worrying over nothing. Lena is a capable pilot and soldier and, as Tracer, she is renowned for her skills in battle. You are overthinking this.

But the feelings didn't go away. She sat down the mug of cocoa, not enjoying the chocolaty goodness against the lump in her throat and the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. She looked at the phone, still dead and silent, and wondered if her lover were somewhere in the same way. Something wet dripped onto her hand, startling her from her morbid thoughts. It took her a moment to realize it was tears she didn't even know she was crying.

She wiped her eyes but it did no good. She cried freely now, squeezing her eyes shut and praying that Lena was safe. Praying with all her heart that Lena was coming home, safe and sound. The last time she had gone off, she had just gone to hear a speech from Tekhartha Mondatta and ended up disappearing for two days. She had run across Widowmaker who almost killed her and broke her coronal accelerator. That scared Emily the most. Not only could Lena have died, but being lost to time and space seemed like a more horrible fate than death. The tears came harder then as well as deep sobs.

She tried to calm herself. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Lena was alright. She would be. She had to be. Emily snatched up the cellphone but stopped herself short of texting. Lena did not need a frightened, silly girlfriend furiously texting her if she were in a tight spot. What if she were hiding and suddenly her phone buzzed or rang and gave away her position? Emily could end up getting her killed. She couldn't live with that guilt.

A troubling thought came upon her and she rose from the sofa as it formed into a very real, very solid, concern. What if she couldn't live like this anymore? She loved Lena. The crazy girl was so bubbly, adorable, and amazing in bed, but she was also a superhero of sorts. She couldn't ask Lena to give up helping people, fighting the good fight, or doing all she could to be there for those who needed her.

But she's not here for me, Emily thought gloomily. And I need her. Is it so selfish of me to want her to be there for me and only me? Am I so petty and jealous of the whole world?

She shouldn't feel this way, she thought. She should be proud of Lena for standing up for what is right even if it was frowned upon by other nations of the world and law enforcement. She looked out the wide window into the cold night and snow, and silently prayed again that Lena was safe.

Emily shook her head and sat back down on the sofa with a huff. She was not going to think about this. This line of thought wasn't healthy and wasn't doing any good. She wiped her tears away and put on a calmer demeanor as she grabbed the remote from the chair arm and flipped on the flat screen television. The picture came up in sharp color and sound immediately showing a fire caused by an explosion at some Omnics facility. The newscaster said that if seemed like a terrorist attack but nothing had been confirmed. It was then that the building exploded again, causing the man with the gray suit and blond comb-over to curse and duck. After a moment, he and the cameraman ran a few meters behind arriving firefighter vehicles before continuing his live report.

Emily flipped the channel and another news cast showed the fire from another angle with the words BREAKING NEWS flashing in a marquee at the bottom of the screen. She clicked to another channel and then another but only saw emergency reports and either newscasters out in the field on location, or discussing the possibility of a terrorist attack with a panel in a studio. She turned the television off and grabbed the cellphone before thinking another thought.

Her thumbs flicked over illuminated digital keys as she sent a frantic and frightened text to Lena. Please tell me you are alright, she typed and pressed SEND. Tears escaped her eyes as she watched the screen of the messenger app with wide eyes. Her words hung there on the screen and she tried to breathe. Finally, the screen turned dark from the screen saver and Emily sobbed. No reply had come.

Somewhere in Brentwood, England

Lena was still sore but no longer bleeding thanks to Mercy. The mission took a rough turn when the bombs started going off. Luckily, the team was able to get out of the facility before the whole thing went down in a fiery heap. Pharah had taken the worst of it. Thanks to her armor, she was relatively unharmed but that didn't stop Mercy from fretting over her. Lena wondered who worried about Fareeha more: Angela or Pharah's mother, Ana.

The punks who caused all the trouble were an anti-Omnics gang of ragtag thugs and young kids hardly old enough for college much less handling the plastic explosives and weapons. They weren't Talon, but they sure caused a mess all the same. The strike team had only managed to subdue four of the crazed gang bangers before one of their friends decided to try and make a martyr of himself. The team didn't know how many, or if any, others had gotten out as they had with the four prisoners in tow. With law enforcement no doubt on their way, Mercy, Pharah, Tracer, and Reinhardt left the troublemakers they had managed to grab and left them at a safe distance from the fires to be picked up anonymously by the cops.

They fled the scene as fast as they could, seeking shelter to tend to any wounds and reached an Overwatch safe house a few kilometers from ground zero of the attack. Mercy was closing up a particularly nasty cut on Lena's leg when a buzzing was heard. Lena dug a cellphone out of her jacket pocket.

"Did you remember to charge that thing?" Angela teased Lena.

"No," Lena sighed. "I wasn't counting on taking this little detour on my way home. Didn't have the chance."

Angela nodded as she wiped off residual blood from Tracer's now healed leg. "These situations pop up without warning. Maybe you should get a pocket charger."

"Maybe I should get a new phone. This model is so 2069," Lena said with a frown as she pushed the screen ON button a couple of times before the poor thing lit up. Yep, the battery was almost dead but not before she saw the alert that she had one message. "Aw bugger," she muttered.

Praying it wouldn't die before she could read it, she swiped her finger across the touch screen and the message popped up.

Please tell me you are alright.

Lena felt the pull of dread and sadness. Emily must have seen the news. Lena hadn't had time to contact her and now the woman must be worried sick trying to find her. She hadn't had a spare moment to call Emily to let her know something had come up. When a counter-attack mission came up, they usually came with little or no warning. Winston had just received the alert from Athena and assembled the team as the gang had broken into the facility. Time was of the essence.

So sorry, Love, Emergency came u-

That's as far as she got before her phone beeped three rapid rings in succession and turned dark.

"Aw, damn it!" Lena groaned aloud causing the rest of the team to jump at the sudden outburst. "That's it," Lena continued her tirade as she shoved the phone into her jacket and checked herself over for anything she had forgotten or any hurts that still needed tending. "I'm going to get a pocket charger and a new phone next chance I get to go out."

"What was it?" Pharah asked as Mercy applied antiseptic to a couple of cuts on the Egyptian's cheek.

"It was a message from Emily," Lena sighed checking the charges on her coronal accelerator. Since she had rested while Mercy was tending to her, the device had recharged enough to where it was almost full capacity. Lena wished her cellphone was that reliable and wondered if Winston could make some tweaks to it like he had the accelerator. "She must be worried sick and the bleeding phone croaked before I could reply back to her."

Reinhardt grunted. "Having a civilian sweetheart can be a tough thing," his normally rough voice said with an unusual soothing tone. "They know you put yourself in danger every day and sometimes, it gets them worried."

"Yes, and now I have to – no, I need to – get to her so she knows I'm alive and in one piece," Lena said.

"Go to her then," Mercy said patting Fareeha's cheek making her blush at the tender affection. Angela and Fareeha weren't in a romantic relationship, but the two women had a bond that Lena always admired. Like sisters only closer.

"We'll report to Winston," Pharah added. "He knows Emily and will understand. Being a civilian, she doesn't have access to all our activities. Leaving her in the dark is necessary but frustrating to her I'm sure."

Lena nodded. "Are you sure we are one hundred percent finished here?"

"Go on," Reinhardt shooed her away with a chuckle and a wink, "Go home and give that beautiful redhead a kiss on the cheek for me."

"You got it," Lena smiled. "Later, loves!"

She ran and zipped with her accelerator as fast as she could, covering distances over rooftops and through alleys until, at last, a familiar front door greeted her.

That sense of dread filled her once more as she noticed the flat was dark. Lena came in quickly and was about to call out for Emily when she saw her. The poor girl was curled up on the sofa clutching her cell phone in her hand. Her brow was creased with worry and exhaustion. Lena sat down gently next to her and brushed the hair from her cheek. Streaks from long shed tears stained her smooth skin and Lena felt her own tears well up as she kissed that cheek. Emily jolted and fearfully let her eyes adjust to Lena's face.

"Hey, baby," Lena murmured softly trying to disarm her girlfriend's anxiety with a lopsided smile. "I'm so sorry. I didn't have time to..."

The words rushed out in puff of air as Emily pulled Tracer into her arms and hugged her tight. She didn't even care about the coronal accelerator in the way or how it uncomfortably pressed into their chests. She held Lena close and started crying softly. Lena wrapped her arms around the redhead and soothed her as best she could without words. She felt her shoulders tremble and the tears wetting her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Love," Lena whispered. "Really, it happened so fast and I didn't have time to contact you. I really need a new phone."

"That phone is so 2079," Emily said quietly and the women chuckled, still in each other's arms.

"Right?"

"Come on," Emily said. "Let's get you to bed. Now that you're home, I can hold you and sleep peacefully."

"We both can," Lena said as she shed her jacket and unstrapped the accelerator.

"So what happened?" Emily asked sitting on the bed while Lena undressed. "Or is it, like, classified?"

"No no," Lena said waving off concerns. "Some blokes with bloody Halloween makeup and stolen military weapons decided to take out their hate on an Omnics facility. Low key, mostly harmless, bollocks."

"It didn't look that harmless on the news," Emily said quietly. She remembered the fear not knowing if Lena was hurt or dead because of that fire. She watched as Lena pulled off her jeans. They had a new rip on the side and what looked like blood dried on the jagged tear. That made Emily worry even more. Lena hadn't had time to even change into her usual Tracer uniform before rushing off to handle some thugs with guns and bombs. She wasn't even wearing her goggles or body armor pieces.

"Oh, Winston assembled a small team and called us to the location," Lena replied not noticing the tone of Emily's voice. "Reinhardt, Mercy, and Pharah happened to be in the area."

"Oh," Emily said. "Lucky that your mates were nearby. I wonder what would have happened if they hadn't been."

Lena noticed her tone that time and turned to the woman. "Oh, Love. You know I wouldn't go in alone if it were something I couldn't handle. You know me better than that. I may be a bit reckless at times, but I'm not stupid."

"I know you aren't," Emily sighed and held out her arms. Lena closed the gap and kissed her tenderly.

The kiss deepened before Emily pulled back slightly. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered. "I get so worried about you."

"I know you do, baby," Lena said affectionately.

Their kiss continued and soon any feelings of exhaustion were forgotten as heat built between them. The two lovers crawled into the bed slowly while lips explored and clothing was peeled off.

Emily made love to Lena, taking the time to feel her and taste her. She was alive, whole, warm, and here and Emily wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as she could. Her worry and fears melted as Lena's mouth worked her magic on various, tender parts of her body in return.

They lay in each others arms afterwards and Emily listened as Lena fell asleep in her arms. As she felt her warm body close to hers, breathing steadily, peaceful and blissful, Emily's thoughts returned to where they had quieted from earlier. She was in her arms, in their bed, safe and sound. For now, she was here. But how long until, one day, she wouldn't be. When would she zoom off to some rescue or whatever and not come back? Would Overwatch even be allowed to let Emily know Lena was gone? They were underground and had to keep secret. They weren't even supposed to exist.

Then something else came to mind. Overwatch had enemies. Tracer had enemies. One in particular that always troubled Emily. Lena didn't know much about Widowmaker, but what she did know or find out, she had shared with Emily. Lena was drawn to her. She felt sorry for her because Widowmaker wasn't an assassin by choice, she had said. She was once the wife of a very influential Overwatch member and was kidnapped and brainwashed into a cold blooded killer. Lena had a soft spot for the woman because of the terrible things that had been forced on her.

She was also completely crushed after what happened in King's Row and Emily had felt a little jealous at the reaction and hurt Lena had felt. Lena would never cheat on her, she knew this for sure, but she also knew Lena's heart. Widowmaker had broken Lena's heart and they weren't even lovers. Emily wasn't a naive little girl. She saw something in Tracer when she talked about Widowmaker that was more than rivalry or opposition. Emily had never actually met Widowmaker – a fact she was more than happy about – but wondered if the woman was truly as evil and dangerous as rumored or if she was really a victim as Lena seemed to secretly perceive.

Emily had always been wary while out and about for fear that, one day, one of Tracer's enemies would try to grab her and force her to do things like Widowmaker had been reprogrammed to do against her will. What if Tracer had managed to really do more than annoy the notorious woman and Emily became a target. It made sense. That's what Talon did. When they couldn't get to Gérard Lacroix they got his beautiful, innocent wife.

One of Tracer's enemies could easily try to use Emily to get to her. Either that, or kill her outright. The thought made Emily cold and she snuggled up to Lena. Tears fell from her eyes once again. She didn't know what to do. She knew that Lena being Tracer was a necessity for the good of all, but it also put her and the ones she loved in danger. Emily wasn't a soldier. She knew some martial arts for regular self-defense but against someone like a genetic engineered assassin with a sniper rifle, somehow knowing how to throw someone over your shoulder effectively seemed woefully inadequate.

She kissed Lena's cheek softly and felt tears run down her face as Lena murmured some sweet nothing in her sleep at the touch.

I can't do this anymore, Emily thought as the tears fell. She has so many to protect that I am only holding her back. She has a whole world to help without one silly woman to worry about.

With that, Emily snuggled closer to Lena and cried herself to sleep.

2

Lena and Emily's flat, London, England

The next morning, Lena woke to find the bed empty. She stretched and padded to the water closet. After doing her morning business, brushing her teeth, and attempting to brush her unruly spiky hair, Lena threw on a pair of warm, comfortable yoga pants and a T shirt before walking into the living room. Emily was sitting on the sofa holding a cup of coffee.

Lena was about to say good morning, but paused. Emily wasn't actually drinking the cup of coffee. She looked as if she were lost in thought and sad. There were bags under her eyes and it looked as if she had been crying. Quietly, Lena approached her girlfriend. It wasn't until she gently sat down next to her and slipped her arm around her shoulders that Emily finally realized Lena was there.

"Oh," She said startled. She sat down her coffee mug and smiled before kissing Lena quickly on the lips. "Good morning," she said.

Lena knew Emily was trying to smile but it didn't reach her eyes. Something was bothering her deeply. She cupped Emily's face and ran her thumbs gently over the woman's pale cheeks.

"Emmy," she said softly, "what's the matter, Love? Have you been crying?"

Emily started to deny it and keep the happy smile on her face, but then her eyes, welled up and she started sobbing. Lena gasped at the sudden ferocity of her lover's sadness and threw her arms around the poor woman.

"I don't know what to do," Emily cried. "I'm so scared and I don't know what to do. I … I just can't do it anymore, Lena."

Lena stroked her hair and tried to soothe her. "Can't do what anymore, Love?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"I love you so much but I can't do it anymore," Emily sobbed.

Lena was confused and started to really worry. Emily could do nothing but cry. "Oh, Emmy," Lena said quietly, holding her love close, "whatever is wrong you can tell me. I'm here for you."

Lena waited until Emily stopped crying and regain her composure. After wiping away the remnants of her tears, Emily took a deep breath.

"This is very hard for me, alright?" she started. "I have been going over this in my head most of last night and all this morning. Please let me get this all out before you say anything."

Dread coiled in Lena's stomach and she pulled her feet up under her on the sofa. She knew what was going to be said. She didn't want to believe it and held her breath as she waited for the words she knew and feared were coming.

"I love you, Lena. I love you with all my heart," Emily said looking away and gathering up her courage. "But I don't think we should be together anymore."

Lena was stunned. She closed her eyes as the words echoed in her mind and she felt her heart breaking. The tears slipped down her cheeks but she was determined not to cry out loud. It obviously had taken all the courage Emily had to muster to have this talk with her and she wouldn't be selfish. There had to be a logical explanation for this and crying would only prolong the inevitable.

"Why?" Lena asked softly. "What did I do?"

"I don't know how to really explain it," Emily replied.

"Is it the coronal accelerator?" Lena asked. "I know it's can be a pain in the arse and I know it sucks for me to have to wear it or keep it close to me within ten meters. If it's too much of a handicap, I can have Winston get with Mercy and see if we can make some nanomachines with the technology or something. I'm sorry I'm not a normal girl and I have to have a machine to -"

"Oh my God, Lena, no," Emily turned to her with a pained, shocked expression on her face. "Are you taking the piss?! Do you really think I would be so shallow as to break up with you because of that?!"

Lena was so dismayed she sputtered, all thoughts of tears forgotten. "Then why?" she asked.

Emily took a deep breath and put her face in her palms. She rocked back and forth for a moment before looking up again. "I guess its Overwatch," she finally replied quietly.

Lena sat for a moment, letting that settle. "Oh Emily," she said. "You aren't thinking that I'm cheating on you with one of the girls do you?"

"Ugh" Emily said, standing up from the sofa. "No! Damn it, I don't think that." She paced a few steps while running her hand through her hair.

"Emmy," Lena said. "I know this is hard for you, it's hard for me right now to hear, but obviously this is something serious if you are breaking up with me. Just spill it. If I'm doing something that is pushing you to this, just let me know. Out with it."

Emily sat back down and took Lena's hands in hers. Her eyes were welling up again. "I can't take you being an Overwatch agent anymore, Lena. Just … just hear me out on this, alright?"

Lena nodded and Emily took a deep breath. She looked around the room, thinking of the words to say.

"Overwatch is pretty much a vigilante group of ex-soldiers," Emily said looking Lena in the eyes. "That means, you do all sorts of dodgy, dangerous things and you aren't even supposed to be doing them. That means you have no support or back up and if something goes tits up, you can get killed or imprisoned for just trying to save the world from another Omnic Crisis or some terrorist twit organization murdering people or blowing up the bloody planet. You are often called to emergencies and missions that are not only completely nutters at times, but illegal no matter how many lives are saved or evil schemes are thwarted. Meanwhile, I am here, at our home, cooking dinner, teaching my ballet classes, doing my online stocks, and, most of all, here alone just hoping and praying you are going to make it back home in one piece or at all. I have sat up many nights, waiting for you, crying and worrying my guts out."

Emily cupped Lena's cheek. "I just can't take it anymore," she said sadly. "You are out saving a world that rejects your efforts and making the woman, who loves you more than anything in this ungrateful world, sick with anxiety over where you are and if you are even still breathing."

"I'll quit then," Lena said with a determined look. The tears she had been holding back flooded down her cheeks and she started going hysterical which she had promised herself she wouldn't do. "The world can piss off! You're right, it doesn't give a damn about me, but you do! You're all that matters to me, Emmy!"

Emily only shook her head. "You and I both know you can't do that."

"Yes, I can!" Lena said. It was her turn to stand up and pace. Her tears and sadness morphed into bitterness. "I bloody well can! I mean, look what I've already been through. I got buggered in a failed experiment that messed up my molecules so I have to wear a stupid machine on my chest just to exist on the same plane of existence with everyone else! I can barely do normal things because of that. Everyone knows who I am but I'm not allowed to be Tracer because of some stupid legislature, made by some corrupt politicians, what made Overwatch, the one group of competent people, illegal after we risked everything to save their ungrateful arses from being demolished by advanced, mind controlled, robots that they helped create!"

Emily said nothing and Lena was practically panting with pent-up frustration. She gasped slightly as Lena fell to her knees in front of her and pulled her into her arms.

"I'll do it," Lena sobbed. "I'll do it for you, Emily."

"Oh, Lena," Emily said softly as she bent down and kissed Lena's head. "It's not just me worrying about your safety. You haven't even considered my safety."

Lena looked up and met Emily's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"What would you do if I got killed?" Emily sighed. "What if you came home one day and, say, Widowmaker, for instance, had killed me to get back at you for opposing her and that terrorist organization she got brainwashed into joining? What would you do?"

"I'd hunt that daft cow down," Lena said so fiercely that Emily blinked a few times in surprise.

"And if you hunted her down and killed her, would it bring me back?"

The fire fled from Lena's eyes and washed down her face in tears. "No," Lena said reluctantly.

"And speaking of Widowmaker," Emily added, "what if the same thing happened to me? Didn't you tell me she was once the wife of one of Overwatch's leaders before Talon kidnapped, tortured, and conditioned her into a sleeper agent to kill him?"

Emily knew that sparked something deep in Lena. Her lover closed her eyes and lay her head in Emily's lap.

"I'm not breaking up with you because I don't love you anymore," Emily said softly. "Far from it. I love you too much to stay. You can't be worried about me and I can't be worried about you all the time. It will only hold you back from what you need to do – what you have to do – and I don't want to be that way. You need someone who can back you up, not just in spirit. You need someone fighting alongside you and not sitting in a flat hoping you come home. Don't you see, Lena? I'm not the right girl for you. I love you and we can always be close. I just don't think we should be lovers anymore. Understand?"

"It hurts," Lena admitted. "Please don't tell me we can be close only if you aren't going to see or talk to me anymore."

"Of course not, Love," Emily said. "Just because I won't be your girlfriend anymore doesn't mean I'm not still here for you. I will always love you."

"I should move out I guess," Lena said with a sigh. "I can use one of the Overwatch safe houses."

"No, you don't have to," Emily said. "I can move back with Mum until I get my own place."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Emily said. "I don't want you to live at some safe house. Besides, I don't think Winston would enjoy having a civilian, who isn't supposed to even know about Overwatch, coming and visiting a safe house. Might bring unwanted attention."

"Ugh, you're right," Lena said.

Emily leaned in and held Lena tight. "It will be alright. This hurts me too but it's for the best," she said.

3

London, England 2 months later

They did still chat and see each other. Emily had only stayed with her mum for a month before she was able to get another flat. This was smaller than the one she shared with Lena and was a little closer to the building where she taught ballet.

Lena was always happy to see her of course, but Emily could tell the break up was still fresh in her mind. She was hurting too but knew, in her heart of hearts, it would just take time to heal. This was for the best. They were still close, still talked, still saw each other for lunch or dinner sometimes. Lena had even come by to see the girls of the ballet class perform. Emily could still see the sadness in her eyes even when she smiled and joked in typical Lena fashion. She hoped that Lena would find someone who could give her what she really needed.

She had just finished up some of the paperwork and paid some of the bills online at the ballet studio. With one last check around to make sure everything was locked up and the main lights were out, Emily carried out her bag and locked the main door behind her. It was still cold out and so she pulled her coat tighter before digging in her bag. A bittersweet sense of relief washed over her as she pulled out the dark green scarf. Lena had given her this scarf last Christmas and Emily held it to her face for a nostalgic moment before wrapping it around her neck and shoulders.

She wondered as she walked home, how Lena was really doing. The proud little woman would never admit she was sad or hurting. Emily didn't want her to be sad. She did all she could to make sure Lena knew she was still alive and there for her, even if they couldn't be lovers. Emily took a deep breath and watched it drift away in a small steam cloud as she exhaled. Lena was a beautiful and wonderful girl and she would find someone who would complement her better. Someone who could keep up with her. It would just take time.

She was nearing her flat when she felt a sharp pain in her neck. She dropped her bag and immediately reached for whatever had stung her. It was way too cold for wasps or bees. The sudden pain turned into a numbness that spread through her body, making her feel like she had had one too many pints at the pub. She swayed a little and tried to stay upright. There was no blood, but she pulled a small dart from the back of her neck. Confused, she felt her vision tunnel a bit and the need to sleep was overpowering.

This is a tranquilizer dart, Emily thought groggily. That was something you'd see in some spy film. Emily's eyes widened in horror as she realized what that could only mean. She started to run but her balance was off. She tripped and stumbled towards her door.

The stairs proved to be too much as her vision started to black out and her equilibrium was off kilter. She felt herself falling until she was caught by strong but slender arms. Emily lifted her head and tried to focus of the face of the woman, for it was indeed a woman, who had caught her. She was about to ask for help, but the words died on her lips as she saw two golden eyes staring coldly at her from a pale, blue face.

"Oh God," Emily whispered, trembling in fear as she realized who held her. "Oh God, no! Please, please don't hurt me. Please, don't kill me … please!" she begged. Her body was growing limp and her eyes could barely stay open.

Emily's vision started to fade and tears rolled down her cheeks but not before she heard a husky, French accented voice whisper, "I am not going to hurt you, Mon Amie. I just want to talk."

The French woman held her tight, almost tenderly, as Emily let darkness envelop her.

It was a little while later when Emily started to rouse. Her mouth felt dry and her vision was blurry. She blinked a couple of times as her flat came into focus. She was lying on her sofa. The television was off but the lone table lamp on the end table was on, illuminating the room with soft light. Emily say up slowly and felt her head spin. She was running her hands over her face and rubbing her eyes when the felt something cold and wet touch her hand.

She jolted before she realized it was a cold bottle of water and was about to reach for it when she realized who was holding the bottle to her. She scrambled to the side of the sofa away and took a deep breath to scream her lungs out but the lithe assassin was as quick as the spider of her namesake and covered her mouth with a cold hand.

"Shhh," the woman hissed. "No screaming, Mon Amie. The hour is not late but I do not want the neighbors to be disturbed and ruin our meeting, non?"

Emily whimpered and her captor sighed. "I will not hurt you, I swear to you. It is not my intention to do any harm to you at all, comprenez-vous?"

Emily nodded slowly and the woman slowly moved her hand away before offering her the bottle of water once more. Emily took it and opened it while keeping her eyes on the mysterious femme fatale. So, this is Widowmaker, Emily thought. She was a lot taller than she expected but maybe it was a slight illusion made by her slender but curvaceous build. She was everything Lena had described about her but seeing her in the flesh made her seem that much more dangerous and real. To think Lena had fought with this woman, traded blows and bullets both, made Emily respect her ex-girlfriend that much more. Widowmaker sat on a footstool nearby so she could face Emily directly. Her movements were graceful and quiet as if everything she did was calculated and precise.

"If you don't intend on hurting me or killing me, what is it you want?" Emily asked after she had drunk enough water to access her situation and whet her throat enough to speak without fear lacing her voice.

"Do you know who I am?" the woman asked with a silky, accented voice that Emily even found strangely alluring.

"Yes," Emily replied. When she didn't elaborate, the woman arched one eyebrow and a hint of a snide smile twitched at her full lips. "You're Widowmaker," she added hesitantly.

Widowmaker seemed pleased by this and crossed her legs demurely before folding her hands over her knee with perfect poise and started slightly kicking her foot. "Oui," she replied. "So I see mon chérie has told you about me, non?"

Emily blinked. The switching from French to English had her doing some quick translations. Being a ballet teacher, she knew some conversational French. Luckily, Widowmaker seemed to only use common French words and was not saying anything she couldn't interpret.

"She told me only a few things," Emily admitted. "You are rather a mystery to her and anyone else. I assume with your … occupation … being largely unknown is preferred."

Widowmaker nodded. "Normally yes," she purred and looked away as if thinking about something. She sat like that, kicking her foot, for a few, quiet moments.

Emily drank her water not only because she was thirsty, but because it gave her something to keep from shaking. She was terrified and she knew Widowmaker could sense that. She thought if she kept Widowmaker talking, it would maybe extend her life expectancy.

She didn't notice a gun and the woman was dressed in a fashionable black shirt under a long coat, tight pants, and ankle boots. Her hair was also in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Honestly, she looked like she were going out to a nice dinner than ready to kill her rival's ex-girlfriend. That was something at least.

"What all do you know about me?" she asked Emily quietly. "What has Lena told you about me at least?"

Emily blinked. "You know her name?" she asked shocked.

Widowmaker looked at her with an amused smile. "Oui," she replied. "Lena Oxton, Caucasian female, brown eyes and hair, age twenty six, youngest Overwatch member even before Overwatch was 'disbanded', 1.7 meters tall, approximate weight of 50 kilograms, blood type A, and last known base of operations: London, England."

Emily's eyes widened and her mouth gaped. She didn't even know all of that information by heart.

"I know many things about her," Widowmaker said with a sultry chuckle before looking her straight in the eye. "Emily," she added.

Emily closed her mouth and felt pure terror grip her. This woman was much more dangerous than she originally thought. She watched as Widowmaker sat up straight again with her perfect poise and remembered she had asked a question.

"She, um..." Emily cleared her throat. "She said you were an assassin. You work for a terrorist organization named … Talon, I think? I'm not really able to recall many details at this moment, you understand."

Widowmaker remained motionless except for those golden eyes, so beautiful and yet so cold. Those eyes blinked once. It was the only response she gave before speaking softly. "She must have told you much more than that, mon Amie. You haven't stopped trembling since you woke up. I realize this is quite frightening for you, but I promise you: I will not harm you in any way. I came to talk to you."

Emily nodded and took a calming breath. Widowmaker cocked her head as if studying her.

"Would it be better if I made you some tea?" the French woman asked.

Emily was taken aback by that. "No, that won't be necessary, really," she replied. "English don't really drink as much tea as people think."

She took a drink of her water and tried to recall everything Lena had told her. "She said that, although you are a sniper assassin, you were once married to one of the leaders of Overwatch and that, this organization, Talon, kidnapped you and, like, did all sorts of experiments on you and wiped your memory. She told me you became Widowmaker because of that and that you never miss a shot, and that you are one, if not the most, deadliest and most feared snipers in the world."

"And?"

"And," Emily blushed a bit, "she may have told me you wear this … um … skin tight purple uniform with these high heeled boots and your hair up in a," she circled her finger around the top of her head, "high ponytail that she says swings around like a whip."

Emily was surprised at the huff of actual laughter that escaped from Widowmaker. Her smile actually brightened her whole face as she did so and, with that small gesture, Emily understood a little more why Lena seemed to be drawn to this woman. It also made Emily feel a twinge of recognition.

"Did you really kill your own husband?" Emily asked her in a hushed whisper.

She expected Widowmaker to be cold or even proud of such a kill, knowing her reputation. Instead, she saw the woman's face grow sad. Those golden eyes, so void of emotion before, burned brighter with a hint of unshed tears. The beautiful smile faded, much to Emily's dismay.

"Oui," Widowmaker replied. She didn't sound happy or proud of that achievement at all. She sounded hurt. "I was completely under their control and they had me kill him. I always knew his name, but it wasn't until recently, the name Gérard Lacroix meant anything to me other than another target to be eliminated."

Emily suddenly leaned forward and seemed to examine Widowmaker. The assassin narrowed her eyes at the strange display of scrutiny. Suddenly, Emily's eyes widened and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, my God," Emily said in a muffled breath. "Did you say your husband's name was Lacroix? You … you really don't know who you are do you?"

Widowmaker blinked rapidly. "I am getting some of my memories back despite the conditioning Talon performed on me," she explained, not following the strange reaction. "What else has Lena told you?"

"Not Lena," Emily said and shook her head as if she were mesmerized. "I had to get a good look at your face to be sure but … oh, my God, you're Amélie Lacroix!"

Widowmaker was stunned. That name had emerged in her memories. It was her turn to gape as Emily seemed to lose the fear that had hung on her like a cloak since they met and turned it into excitement and awe.

"I saw you dance!" Emily continued. "It was a few years ago. I was just a kid back then, but I remember I got to go to a special performance of Swan Lake by the Ballet Magnifique. They were in London and my class had been asked to watch them perform as inspiration. You, Amélie Lacroix, stole my breath away at how beautiful and graceful you were as Odette and Odile. You were my idol."

"I," Widowmaker looked startled. Her memories raced and she recalled costumes, positions, practices, and also performances on stage, applause, and roses being thrown to her. It was like fragments of a dream, but they were there. "I was a ballerina?"

"You were, yes," Emily said and, to Widowmaker – correction – Amélie's surprise, the woman moved closer to her. "Lena also told me that you move like a dancer and that, in the scrapes you two have had, she said she's never seen anyone move like you do. I guess we know why."

Widowmaker sat considering that for a moment. She sighed. "Lena would notice something like that, wouldn't she?"

"She notices little things," Emily said mirroring Amélie's contemplative stare. "Its part of what makes her … her."

Amélie sat with Emily saying nothing for a few moments. Finally, Emily politely cleared her throat.

"Not that I'm not glad to help you regain some of your memories or deeply thrilled to meet my idol," Emily said quietly, "and, to be perfectly honest, a little sad and terrified that you are a world renown assassin now, You didn't come here to talk about you, did you?"

"Non, mon amie," Amélie replied. "I'm here to talk to you about Lena." She paused and looked at Emily. This time her eyes reflected a mixture of concern and something unknown as she addressed her rival's ex-girlfriend.

"Does she ever tell you anything about missions?" Amélie asked.

Emily shook her head. "No," she said holding up her hands. "Outside of the occasional 'I have a funny story about one of the missions I was on recently', she never tells me any details, or anything remotely resembling a debriefing, of any and all Overwatch activities she's a part of. I already worried about her for even going on those missions, so she didn't want something to fuel that fire. Also, there's the little problem of Overwatch's activities seen as illegal vigilantism by almost everyone. If I had any knowledge and didn't divulge it to the proper authorities like a good little civilian, I'd be thrown in the clink for obstruction of justice and aiding and abetting faster than you could say 'bang to rights'."

"Well then," Amélie said nodding. "Let me tell you a not funny story about one of the missions we were on recently. It happened two weeks ago. I was sent to a location in Spain..."

4

Carmona, Spain Two weeks ago

The air was dry and hot as Widowmaker danced around the rooftops to the target area. She lowered the infravisor that adorned her head and looked at the red outlines of the men inside and outside the building. They had arranged to meet in a rather large villa and both of the weapons dealers had their hired muscle. Unfortunately for them, both targets were to be eliminated and the weapon archetype offered, as well as the millions of clean credits, were to be retrieved for Talon. Looking at all the large red forms, Widowmaker smiled. This was going to be fun.

Widowmaker pressed a button on the left side of her visor. "I am in position," she quietly said to Sombra, who was monitoring her progress via satellite.

"OK Chica," Sombra announced. "You are free to proceed in 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1..."

On the count of one, Widowmaker burst into action. Her Widow's Kiss fired in short bursts of air as the long range bullets took out the three men who were lazily patrolling the grounds in the courtyard. As the last man fell, Widowmaker aimed and fired her grappling hook to a secure point on the far rooftop where her main targets were located. The hook took out another man on that roof before fastening to the wall and pulling her into a tight swing then rapidly retracting her up the wall. As she made her ascent, she turned and took out two more men who had hustled out of the building's entrance to find out what took out their buddies.

The thrill of the battle sang in her veins, making her run faster, and take shots with ease. Once she reached the roof, one of the guards was quick enough to fire his gun once. Widowmaker was already sliding towards him across the roof, too low for his bullet to find its target. The sharp stilettos of her boots ripped flesh as she knocked the man off his feet. Using the momentum, Widowmaker fired three burst shots up into the man as his body sailed over her. He was dead before he landed.

The assassin let her adrenaline carry her to new heights of euphoria as she smashed through the door leading up to the roof, taking out another guard and sending him into the other two marching up the stairs. She followed them down rapidly firing bullets into them as they tumbled helplessly. She then jumped the railing down a story to land on another guard's shoulders. As he went down, consequentially providing her with a soft landing, Widowmaker then put a bullet in the face of the two guards who were too slow to react to her entrance. She calmly reloaded and put a bullet in the man she had just stomped into the ground like an afterthought as she walked away from his prone form.

It seemed the rest of the guards were trying to be smart. Widowmaker flattened herself outside of a doorway. It opened into a two meter hallway that had one closed door at the end. Snapping her infravisor down once again, she saw four men grouped just on the other side of the door with their guns drawn at the ready. She also noticed her two main targets huddled behind a desk opposite the door and the meat shield they foolishly thought would keep them safe. Widowmaker chuckled cruelly.

She deployed her grappling hook like a whip to break the door. By the time the men had tried to react to the door exploding, Widowmaker had fired a green canister from the side of her gauntlet which hissed out a thick vicious gas within seconds. The great thing about her Widow Venom was that is served as a smoke screen and strong chemical agent.

As the guards choked and coughed, blinded by the thickness and the havoc the Venom did to their eyes and lungs, Widowmaker held a deep breath while running and took out the room as quick as four regular heartbeats. She looked around with her infravisor protecting her eyes and saw no moving forms. Seeing nothing left to kill in the room, she picked up the case that contained the archetype weapon and the other containing the credits. After opening both cases to see that they had what she came for, she strapped Widow's Kiss to her back and used the hard cases to smash the nearby window.

Once on the ground, she pressed the button on her visor to connect with Sombra. "Mission accomplished," she said straightforward. "Payload is retrieved, targets eliminated. Requesting pick up."

"Rendezvous point is half a click due west," Sombra replied. "Muy bien, Chica. You beat your last record."

Widowmaker huffed. "They weren't even a challenge," she sighed. "À bientôt."

She heard the communication click off and went to retrieve the cases off the ground when she heard someone blow a loud, shrill whistle. Just as she looked up at where she thought she heard the noise, a flash of blue caught her eye just as a foot found her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her momentarily but Widowmaker rolled with the kick and skid to a halt a short distance from a familiar woman in orange with spiky brown hair.

Widowmaker smiled inwardly. No one could get her blood pumping like Tracer. Although she knew one day their dance would end, she actually found she enjoyed the give and take with the annoying Brit. She hadn't seen her in a few weeks and Widowmaker had to admit she had missed her.

"Bonjour, mon chérie," Widowmaker said with a smirk.

Tracer said nothing, she just pulled out her pulse pistols and started blasting. Widowmaker was too fast, as usual, and dodged to the side while pulling Widow's Kiss from her back. She returned fire and Tracer flitted out of range, flying high and above to try and rain down her shots. Widowmaker rolled out of the way just as Tracer landed a few yards behind her.

They traded blows, jumped, and dodged almost as if they were playing a game of tag. Widowmaker secretly loved sparring with Tracer. It wasn't until they had stopped, each on the other side of the courtyard behind makeshift cover, reloading their weapons, that Widowmaker noticed something was wrong.

She and Tracer had fought many times, but there was no thrill in this. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was missing. Then she stopped and listened. There was no sound. It was quiet. The only sounds were the wind cutting through the courtyard. That's when she understood: there was no banter. Tracer hadn't once taunted her, teased her, or whooped or hollered. It was like she had suddenly grown serious.

Tracer suddenly appeared zipping through the air and right at Widowmaker. She let out a primal scream and tackled the sniper to the ground. The two women tumbled until, finally, Widowmaker gained the upper hand. Lena was panting, lying on her back on the ground, her arms out at her sides as Widowmaker knelt over her, Widow's Kiss aimed at her head.

Widowmaker sneered and was about to say something taunting when she saw Tracer's face. The woman showed no fear or anger. She, instead, took a deep breath and closed her eyes in resignation. The smirk on Widowmaker's face disappeared.

"What are you doing?" Widowmaker asked. Now it was her turn to be in shock. This was so unlike Tracer. She wasn't even rewinding time to get away.

"Now's your chance to off me," Tracer said quietly. A smile played at her lips and a look of peace and surrender came over her face. Widowmaker felt her mask slip further. What was going on? Had she broken her worse than she thought? She knew that Tracer was hurt but this felt like she was just giving up. "Go ahead, this is what you want, innit?"

Widowmaker was so stunned she almost dropped Widow's Kiss. The realization of what Tracer was asking of her gave her chills. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she slowly stood and pulled her rifle away.

Tracer's face screwed up in confusion and she opened her eyes. "What are you waiting for? You got me right here! Shoot me!"

Widowmaker covered her mouth and backed away slowly.

"Where are you going?" Tracer called after her. Her sweet face distorted with some inner anguish Widowmaker didn't understand. It frightened her.

"I'm right here!" Tracer yelled as she sat up. "Do it! Isn't this what you've wanted?"

"Non!" Widowmaker screamed back. "You don't have the faintest idea of what I want, you foolish girl!"

With that, she turned and ran. She grabbed her payload and grappled over the wall. Tears burned in her eyes as she heard Tracer yelling and cursing after her.

"Get back here!" she heard her yelling. "Don't you run away from me! GET BACK HERE, YOU BITCH!"

5

Emily's flat Present day

"But I didn't turn back," Amélie said quietly. "The more I heard her screaming at me to come back and kill her, the faster I ran. I kept expecting her to chase after me or use her accelerator to warp faster to catch up to me, but, thankfully, she did not."

Widowmaker was surprised as Emily handed her some tissues. She took one and realized she had tears running down her face.

"I knew she wasn't taking this well," Emily said. "I knew but I didn't think it had gone that badly."

"I watched her after that," Widowmaker said while drying her eyes. "I watched her go to that pub on the north side and try to get drunk. She had no spark to her anymore."

"You were stalking her?" Emily asked shocked.

"Oui," Widowmaker replied shrugging. "She was surprisingly not hard to find once I came to London. I had to find out what had happened and do whatever I could to fix this. One night, she was drinking heavily at home and crying. When she finally passed out, I made my way into her apartment and saw her clutching a photo."

Emily shivered visibly. "I know you meant well, but stalking and sneaking into her flat is creepy, Amélie."

Amélie smiled slightly hearing Emily address her by her real name. "Pardon," she said. "I did not think of those things. It is not like I could just walk up and knock on her door."

Emily rubbed the back of her neck remembering the tranquilizer dart. "I guess you're right," she said. "I can guess what the photograph was."

Amélie nodded. "It was a picture of her, smiling and happy and making goofy faces with a particularly lovely red haired woman. I scanned the photo and went onto the internet to cross source who you were."

"That's how you found me," Emily sighed.

"You are Emily Smith and you teach ballet," Widowmaker confirmed. "The first thing to pop up when I researched your picture was your dance studio."

"Well, now you also know how I knew who you were," Emily said. "I mean, who you really are."

The two women sat for a moment in silence. Amélie reached out slowly and touched Emily's hand. It was surprisingly tender and a little frightening at the same time. Her skin was cold as if she had been outside in the snow without mittens. It made Emily shiver involuntarily. Amélie sensed this and took her hand away before speaking.

"Why did you leave her?" she asked. "She obviously loves you and I have seen you two still communicate. You still love her as well."

Emily ignored the fact Widowmaker had obviously not just stalked Lena but both of them. She sighed and looked at the blue-skinned woman sitting on her footstool with a confused and genuine look on her face.

"Ironically, it's because of this," she said while waving her hand about to indicate the situation. "You see, Lena is a great girl … wonderful in many ways … but she is also Tracer and Tracer is an agent of Overwatch. That means she goes out on missions that are not sanctioned or even legally allowed. Most of the time, these missions are dangerous mercenary situations that could get her killed. I was always worried she would get hurt or, worse, she wouldn't come home at all. Then there's what's happening right now..."

Amélie blinked and Emily took a deep breath.

"I will tell you the same thing I told her and, please understand, I do not mean to offend you in any way," Emily said looking up at the ceiling to gather her courage. "I know that being involved in the things she and Overwatch are involved with can lead to enemies. Powerful enemies. Enemies that will not take too kindly to their plans being shut down by a ragtag group of world-saving veterans of the Omnic Crisis. Enemies that will do whatever is necessary to shut down people who oppose them by any means."

"Like brainwash a man's wife into killing her husband and then genetically altering her body and mind to become a psychotic assassin that they can control?" Amélie supplied. She sighed. "Oui, I can see that being a concern from a personal point of view."

Emily nodded. "Forgive me," she said quietly. "Lena told me all she knew but I didn't know the details and that frightened me even more. I am sorry. I can't imagine what that must be like especially after you've told me that their conditioning is wearing off."

"It is frightening," Amélie said. "I remember things that make me question everything about being who I am as opposed to being who I was."

"Right," Emily said. "That would be the absolute worst case scenario I told her. The other thing would be if someone killed me or kidnapped me to get to her. I mean, you were able to find me in a short amount of time and could have shot me with a bullet instead of a tranquilizer tonight. I would have been dead before I reached my front door and never would have seen you coming. So you see, I did it not only for her safety, but my own."

Amélie sighed. "I know it must be awful and difficult from that angle, but you have to go back to her," she said shaking her head. Emily felt like the assassin was almost pleading with her. "She is not herself, she has lost her will to live. She needs you."

Emily felt her tears welling as she looked at Amélie. "I can't," she said quietly holding back the tears. "I hate to say it but I'm not strong enough. Besides, why do you care so much about...?"

Her tears stopped and her eyes went wide. Amélie felt uncomfortably nervous and couldn't meet Emily's eyes.

"You're in love with her," Emily whispered.

Widowmaker still couldn't bring herself to look at Emily. "Impossible," Amélie said. "I cannot feel any emotion except the rush when I kill. I can't love. Besides, I find Tracer to be an annoyance and nothing more."

"Oh, bollocks!" Emily said with a sudden burst of bravery that had Amélie looking at her in shock. "I know Lena well enough to know that her wit and charm is downright addictive. She may be annoying but it's in a very good way. She's annoying enough to get you to smile know matter what. She's annoying enough that you can't stop thinking about her. She's annoying enough to get under your skin, drive you nutters, and steal your heart before you even realize she's the one who did it. I know because that's how it happened to me."

"Non, you are wrong," Amélie said shaking her head.

"Really?" Emily said with a smirk and an inquisitive eyebrow. "Then riddle me this, Widowmaker," she emphasized the woman's call sign with enough mocking tone that Amélie narrowed her eyes, but Emily went on with no fear. "How is it the world's most notorious and deadliest assassin, who is such a crack shot, can't hit and kill a single, loud-mouthed British bird? Who gets off on fighting with her? That sees it as so much fun, it short circuited her brain from extensive torture, and God-knows-what-else those Talon bastards did to you, and actually made you feel something again? Made you step away several times, including two moments I know for a fact about, where you had her dead to rights in the crosshairs and yet you still didn't pull that trigger, did ya?"

Emily paused her little tirade of hard questions to really let them sink in before leaning closer and bravely looking Widowmaker right in the eyes. "And why, exactly, would that be again?" she asked quietly and deliberately.

"I can't" Amélie said with a sad sigh. "But you can. You had her … still have her if you would take her back. I can't be her lover."

"You could if you wanted," Emily said. "You don't honestly think Lena doesn't feel the same way about you, do you?"

Amélie looked up at that. She had no idea and Emily was serious.

"That night on King's Row, when you assassinated Mondatta?" Emily went on. "She told me about it but I want to hear your side. She told me you two had a tussle and she ended up having you pinned down and demanded an answer as to why you did it. I want to hear it from you. What did she say and how did she say it?"

Amélie remembered that night. She remembered it vividly. She remembered the adrenaline and psychotic thrill she had been high on while fighting Tracer and successfully killing Mondatta and how it had affected her judgment and made her actions cruel and colder. She remembered Tracer's face. The shock and betrayal etched in those soulful brown eyes. Because she wasn't in her right mind, she had laughed at the woman's pain. It wasn't until later that she realized her mistake.

Amélie didn't answer. She felt her eyes burn as she remembered grabbing Tracer and pulling her off the edge of the building with her as the transport arrived. Even high on psychotic endorphins, she still couldn't allow Talon to capture or kill the annoying Brit. She made sure she was safely out of their sight and watched over her as they left. When her mind finally cleared, she felt overpowering regret for ever hurting the woman she hadn't realized she loved.

"She was heartbroken," Emily said and Amélie closed her eyes at hearing those words. "You see, Lena knew little about what had happened to you but she believed that somehow, some way, she could help you snap out of it. She believed Amélie Lacroix was still somewhere buried under all that mess that Talon had done. When you laughed at her, when you showed no mercy, no humanity for the cruel act of killing someone she looked up to, you broke her heart."

Amélie suddenly burst into tears and Emily sat helplessly for a moment before finally throwing caution to the wind and pulled Amélie close.

"She was right," Amélie sobbed. "I am here. I'm still me somewhere and she was the only one who saw that. What have I done?"

"It wasn't really you," Emily said reassuringly. "You can't be totally held accountable for all the things you've done as Widowmaker. Look, you didn't really have much of a choice. We all make mistakes, especially when we're forced into things. If you tell her this, let her see that you are trying to get past all this horrible tosh that has been forced on you, she will understand.

"Best of all," Emily continued, "not only can you mend her broken heart but she can help you mend your broken mind."

"It won't work. She will attack me on sight," Amélie said, wiping her eyes. "We always attack each other on sight. For whatever reason, she will not think of it as our usual dance. Especially not after Mondatta. She will never forgive me for that."

"You really don't know her then, do you?" Emily sighed and tapped Amélie on the forehead in a "use your head" gesture. "You know, I don't know all this secretive … spy … espionage … James Bond humbug you've been trained to do, but I'm under the impression that if you have an assassination target, don't you plan out your strategy on how to stake them out and ambush them for a clean, quick kill?"

"The fact that you even know something about that and said it so calmly worries me, mon amie," Amélie said with slightly widened eyes.

"Hey," Emily said with mock outrage, "I read books and watch the bloody television when there are movies on, you know! How do you think I knew who James Bond was?"

The two women smiled. It seemed unlikely, but they had found some common ground and were working out a problem that was deeper than either knew existed. Funny how things end up like that, Emily wondered to herself.

"I think if you put your mind to it, you will know the perfect time to approach her," Emily said. "Treat Lena as you would an assignment or mission or whatever they call it. Only, this time, instead of trying to shoot her, you are going to sweep her off her feet. Don't hesitate, don't overthink, just do what you normally do."

Amélie nodded. It made sense. The more she thought of it like that, the more her worry and apprehension melted away. Emily saw the determination set in her golden eyes.

"Are you sure you are alright with this?' Amélie asked and Emily blinked several times as she realized there was concern for not only Lena, but her as well in that question.

"Absolutely," Emily replied. "I love Lena and I always will even if we aren't romantically involved. I don't want her hurting and I certainly don't want her dead or wanting to be that way. If it takes the one most unlikely woman to get her out of this funk and gives her a love affair that can not only get her spark back but be right for her, then I'm all for it."

Amélie nodded and patted the other woman's knee. Emily did not jump or react negatively at the touch this time. "I won't keep her from you, I promise," the assassin told her.

"Well, I would bloody well hope not," Emily said with a smile. "And, speaking of that, once you get things squared away, don't feel as if you can't drop by and say hello at times. Next time we'll have proper tea or something. But no tranquilizer darts next time, if you please."

Amélie laughed a genuine laugh. "I will knock on your front door," she promised.

They hugged each other and, although Amélie was colder to the touch, Emily felt the warmth of emotions awakening in the woman. It would take time and, bless her, Lena would definitely help with that.

"You go get her," Emily whispered. "You make her happy and yourself as well because you both need this." She drew back and looked the French woman in the eyes before adding, "You both deserve this. No more fighting it."

6

The Black Woods River Pub, London Three days later

She was miserable. It wasn't getting any better. She tried doing any and all missions Winston could give her until the big gorilla scientist had told her enough was enough and that she was wearing herself out. He strictly forbade her from doing any more missions for a while and literally commanded her to take time off.

Lena walked into the pub as she usually did lately with her head down, eyes distant, and her hands firmly buried in the pockets of her flight jacket. Even the blue glow of her chronal accelerator seems to pulse and rotate mournfully.

Georgie, the barkeep, saw her come in and simply nodded with an understanding smile. Lena, in her defense, gave him as friendly a grin as she could manage. Georgie turned as she approached the bar and sat in the shadowed corner. Without her saying anything, he produced an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label from the stock and a single whiskey glass before setting it in front of the poor woman.

"Not to sound all creepy like, but I miss ya smile," Georgie said as Lena gave him a ten credit note as he opened the bottle and poured her first glass.

Lena gave him a halfhearted smile and a small huff of a laugh.

"I ain't tryin' ta pry or nuthin'" he continued on in his charming Cockney accent, "but you shouldn't be 'ere mopin' about. You're a right bright bird, ya are. Always 'ave been. I don't be doubtin' that Emily was a fine girl an' all, but ya gotta get out there and live a little more! It's ya business and all, and wot do I know, right? I'm just a right ugly bastard wot knows how ta pour a drink for a lady, but I know I miss ya smile and ya 'appiness."

"I know Georgie," Lena said taking a drink of the whiskey. "I'm sure it will get better. Right now, I'm fine with you and Johnny Walker here."

"Well," Georgie said with a joking smile. "Last I 'eard, Johnny was a bloke and you ain't normally in ta blokes."

Lena did laugh at that and Georgie winked playfully. "Ha! Georgie, you got me with that one. Thanks, Luv." She poured some more whiskey in the glass. "Until the right girl comes around, Johnny has been right proper with me. And so have you. No worries, Luv. It will just take some time and all. I'll be back to my normal smiling self some day."

With that, Georgie rapped his knuckles a couple of times on the wooden bar good-naturedly and left her to her drinking and thinking.

Her thoughts, as usual, were on Emily. Her laugh, her green eyes lighting up as they laughed and joked, and the way her hair hung over her shoulder when she was reading or watching something on the holovid. Lena downed the contents of her glass and the slight burn of the whiskey made her nose tingle and her eyes get watery. At least, she told herself it was the whiskey making her eyes watery.

She poured another glass and let it sit. Tapping the rim of the glass with her finger and staring at the brown liquid, she let her thoughts drift. She had tried to bury herself in her missions. Emily couldn't be with an Overwatch agent who put her life in danger to save an ungrateful world, so Lena decided that she would go down in flames. Overwatch and living the life of a hero had all but ruined her life, cost her her body, and cost her the love of a wonderful woman. Live by the sword, die by the sword, she thought.

The music player came on and a beautiful Jazz tune drifted from the hidden speakers about the pub with digital clarity. The smooth bass and saxophone laid out a foundation for the sweet sound of a woman's voice as she sang about how the moon was like the eye of God watching over her lover while he was gone. Lena closed her eyes and let the whiskey and music flow over her.

She only danced with Emily once. Emily was a ballerina and Lena marveled at how graceful she was.

"Ugh, if I step on your feet too many times, we can stop," Lena remembered telling her taller girlfriend as they slow danced.

"Oh pish posh," Emily giggled. "If you step on my feet enough it will give me an excuse to make you massage them for me later."

Lena leered at her with a playful grin and waggled her eyebrows. "I could do more than massage your feet, you know," she whispered in Emily's ear and was delighted at the shiver she incited. "All you ever have to do is ask."

"Behave," Emily admonished her but with a noticeable gleam to her eyes. "If anything, I love the way you move with me. Dancing isn't about knowing the moves, it's about feeling them."

With that, Lena's thoughts came back to the here and now. She didn't know what to feel anymore. It seemed the music had stopped in her life and she didn't have a beat to use as a tempo. Maybe she should just let the music stop all together because what was the point in dancing alone?

She took a drink and let the woody heat burn her throat bringing up other memories. Memories of another woman from two weeks ago. She hadn't seen Widowmaker since Spain. That really wasn't a surprise. It was normal for them to not cross paths for days or weeks. Widowmaker was one of Talon's top agents but she wasn't their only one. Still, it amazed Lena how often they seemed to rub elbows as it were. They always seemed to find each other as if it were ordained by God. Maybe it was.

Her thoughts went to their last encounter. She always felt a thrill when fighting Widowmaker. It wasn't as if she were actually fighting her. More like kids roughhousing. She never really understood why she felt that way. It just made her excited and overjoyed to make the normally emotionless and serious woman lose it. She knew one day, Widow would get the upper hand on her and that would be that. There was no way Widowmaker thought of their little scrapes as playing. Widow didn't seem like the type to play with her prey. If she wanted you dead, she would do it quick and efficiently with a bullet to the brainpan.

But that isn't what happened during their last encounter. Lena just fought her and she didn't want to have fun or play with her this time. Lena didn't know what to make of the French beauty after what happened with Mondatta. She felt like a naive child. She was stupid to think that the dangerous assassin was anything more than a killer. It opened her eyes in the most horrible way.

Emily had opened her eyes further to truths she didn't see before. This wasn't a game. Being an agent of Overwatch was serious business with serious repercussions. People got hurt and people even died. Mercy was a godsend with her staff and medical knowledge but Lena knew Angela, no matter how angelic her name and armor was, was not a miracle worker. Widowmaker was not some girl playing soldier. She had been remade in Talon's image and she was a cold, calculating, professional killer. Any thoughts of Amélie Lacroix – whoever Lena thought she was before – was gone and she wasn't coming back. Lena didn't even know why that bothered her so much, but it did.

She also naively thought Widowmaker would be her escape. After all that happened, the terrible revelations she had witnessed and the devastating losses she endured, Lena couldn't think of a more poetic way to end it all than at the hands of the one mystery woman who intrigued her and hurt her more than anyone – including Emily. She tracked her down, practically broke all sorts of protocol and confidentiality with Overwatch's supercomputer, Athena, to track the assassin's whereabouts. She put herself at a huge risk of breaching security measures and trust by practically making the AI tell her what she needed to know before stealing an aircraft and flying to Spain as fast as she could to intercept Widowmaker.

She also felt that this may have been another point that made Winston practically demand she take time off.

And when she got there and came face to face with the woman who affected her in ways she had no idea she felt and deeper than she had ever known, she got angry. It felt stupid to be angry at Widowmaker because it wasn't entirely her fault for all the things that had happened. Widowmaker didn't have any clue how she got to Lena and she probably didn't even care (or couldn't care depending on just how emotionless she really was). That didn't stop Lena though. She was going to push her to the limit this time. She didn't taunt her or play around this time. Playtime was over as far as Lena was concerned. She fought hard but made sure to give Widowmaker the openings she would need to do what Lena wanted her to do without being obvious. Even so, when the assassin had taken advantage of Lena's seemingly stupid reckless attack, she didn't do it. Lena had been so sure she would and when Widowmaker didn't, it made her even angrier.

She remembered the look on Widow's face and imagined she probably felt the same way Lena had on that rooftop in King's Row. That is, if Widowmaker felt anything at all. Remembering that look of confusion and horror on her beautiful, albeit blue, features, she could feel plenty. Lena was too angry to really notice it at the time. Afterwards, it only served to confuse her more about the woman. Just when she thought she had her figured out, she surprised her with something like this.

"You don't haven't the faintest idea what I want, you foolish girl!" Widowmaker had screamed at her before turning and running away as fast as she could.

Those words hit Lena hard and echoed in her mind over and over. It made Lena feel ignorant. She felt like everything was one big joke and she was the punchline. What did Widowmaker want? Better question would be why would Widowmaker want anything? She didn't feel. She wasn't even human anymore, so to speak, from what files Overwatch had on her. Yet she showed more emotion than anything Lena had ever seen that day.

And she hadn't taken the shot that Lena had practically handed to her on a silver platter. Why couldn't she have taken that damned shot?

Lena felt anger welling in her again before the music switched to something with a rich, deep house beat. A chill mix techno melody followed and it put Lena at ease. The vocals faded in and Lena was surprised that they were in French, the lovely sound of the woman's voice flowing with the exotic purr of the language. Lena didn't know much French, but it sounded calming and lovely all the same. She sighed as anger and tension drifted away like smoke at the alluring lullaby of the unknown woman's song.

She lifted her glass to take a drink when it was softly but firmly snatched away by a woman who casually and gracefully sat next to her. She was about to express her displeasure when she caught sight of bluish skin and a familiar cold beauty that made the color drain from her face. She sat, shocked and gaping, as Widowmaker, hair down and flowing over slender shoulders and wearing a dark gray outfit that accented her long, lithe features without revealing as much skin as her Talon catsuit, calmly – and if Lena were honest, sensually – drank the half glass of whiskey. Her long, slender neck leaned back as the warm amber liquid made her throat bob slightly with the three swallows it took to finish the glass. If Lena wasn't in such shock at the sudden appearance, she might have thought it was sexy. When finished, Widowmaker looked her right in the eyes with a slight grimace to her face as she slid the now empty glass in front of Lena before, deliberately, crossing her legs at the stunned girl.

"Not bad, but I think I prefer a good Merlot," Widowmaker said in that smooth voice of hers that made Lena swoon and bristle equally. "I would have thought you more of a beer girl but it is good to see you have more refined tastes."

Lena tried her best to glare at her but wasn't able to get past the initial shock and confusion of Widowmaker showing up, casually dressed, and calmly drinking her drink in a pub in London.

"What are you doing here?" Lena asked before nervously looking around the bar to see if anyone had noticed her unlikely companion. Georgie was doing that wiping down a glass with a washcloth thing that bartenders do to look busy and his eyes went to Lena with a questioning glance. Lena gave him a quick gesture that assured him everything was ok before turning back to the French woman.

"You have been frequenting this pub for several days," Widowmaker said with a shrug to her shoulders. "I have watched you get as drunk as you could before making sure that you made it back to your flat without any incident."

"You've been following me?" Lena asked and the cold wash of fear came over her. She swallowed and quickly poured herself almost a full glass of whiskey before drinking down a couple of swallows. Widowmaker only sat watching her in a relaxed pose, her chin resting on her hand. The black lines of her tattoo crept out from a rolled up sleeve on her right arm but revealing the word araignée. Lena tried not to notice that her golden eyes practically glowed with the intense look she was giving.

"I just don't understand you," Lena said quietly. She had turned completely to the bar and tried to look bored and uninterested but she stiffened as Widowmaker leaned over to her and, once again taking the glass from her hand, drank down the rest of the remaining whiskey before returning it in front of Lena.

"Why are you following me around?" She asked, turning to face the other woman. "What? Are you playing with me before you finally do what you didn't do in Spain?"

"Non," Widowmaker said and her eyes made a slow perusal of Lena from her feet back up to her wide, confused eyes. "I am not playing with you anymore. At least, I'm not playing the game we've been playing, mon chérie."

For the first time ever, Lena looked at Widowmaker with fear. She couldn't help the involuntary shiver and Widow's eyes blinked at that. She nervously looked around. When she glanced back at Widowmaker, she found she couldn't look her in the eyes and so she faced the bar and squeezed her own eyes shut.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a waver in her voice. "What are you talking about?"

Widowmaker scoffed and Lena opened her eyes to watch as the French woman refilled the whiskey glass and handed it to Lena. "Silly, foolish girl," she chided rolling her eyes slightly. "I am not going to kill you nor would I ever kill you. Emily said -"

Lena nearly choked on the drink. "Emily?!" she spouted. "How do you…? What have you done to her?"

"Nothing!" Widowmaker said looking around trying to quiet Lena down. "We talked."

"What?"

"We talked. I sat in her living room, she drank a bottle of water, and we talked. That's all."

"About what?"

"You," Widowmaker said pointedly, making Lena sit dumbfounded and quiet. "I came to her because of what happened in Spain. It … it frightened me. She told me things, helped me to understand things I didn't notice, and told me to go to you."

"Emily would never do that," Lena said quietly. "How did you even … Blimey! You've been following both of us for two weeks?"

Widowmaker sighed. "I had to. I had to find out what happened to you. What happened in Spain … I've never seen you like that before. I found out about Emily and went to her -"

"No," Lena said shaking her head and cutting Amélie off. "You are a cold, unfeeling killer. Don't you dare act like you suddenly grew a heart after what you did to Mondatta and countless others."

Widowmaker gaped and Lena gulped down her drink before getting up from the bar. She nodded to Georgie and placed another ten credit note next to the now nearly empty bottle.

"Stop following me," Lena growled at Widowmaker. "And if you ever 'talk' to Emily again, I will kill you." She heard Widowmaker call quietly after her as she stormed out but didn't stop. She even made a point to accelerate a few yards and took an alley to try and avoid any more contact. The only thing whirling through her head was Emily and how she had to get to her and make sure she was ok. Widowmaker never just talked to anyone.

Her fear was palpable as she thought of the possibilities. One thing was certain, if Widowmaker had killed Emily then that was truly it. She would kill her or die trying. She started running but things started spinning and she stumbled. She reached a bench near a bus stop and slumped into it. She drank too much too fast and then the fear and adrenaline didn't help. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her head was fuzzy and spinning.

"Aw damn it," she muttered aloud. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the bench. She thought about Emily and how her flat was still a good ways away. She shouldn't have drank so much. "Damn it," she said again as she felt the tears well up and flow down her cheeks.

She felt someone approach and knew who it was without opening her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to care if Widowmaker killed her right there on the street. She expected to die and, just like she had done in Spain, she silently hoped Emily would be alright and waited for the killing blow.

She felt Widowmaker sit next to her on the bench and gasped in surprise as two arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. It was so unreal.

"I didn't do anything to Emily, I swear it to you," Widowmaker said, holding Lena tight. "I would not hurt her and I will not hurt you. It's funny you should say 'grew a heart' because that is almost exactly what happened.

"I was so shocked by what you did in Spain that I followed you here in London," Widowmaker continued, not letting Lena go. "I followed you and saw you with her. I found out she had been your petite amie and that you two had broken up. I figured that is what had gotten to you so badly and so I went to her and tried to persuade her to go back to you."

"What did she say?" Lena asked timidly.

"She said that she could not because she is not strong enough to love you without worrying about her safety and yours," Widowmaker said sadly. "She said you need someone who can fight by your side as an equal. Then she … well, she made a suggestion."

Lena pulled back and looked Widow in the eye. She was about to ask something when the French woman leaned in and gently touched her lips to hers. Lena almost jumped up from the bench but then Widow's arms tightened around her and her lips were on hers again. The coolness of the skin was different and the taste of whiskey flavored her lips so cold and yet warming in wondrous ways. Lena made a small sound of surprise but soon gave herself over to the kiss.

Reason and confusion caused her breath to hitch but she found she couldn't allow herself to pull away. She was slightly drunk, in a pretty quiet but public area, making out with Widowmaker. How could this have happened? She and Widow were enemies, Lena thought. Weren't they? She couldn't hold her thoughts as the mix of alcohol and the beautiful way Widowmaker moved her lips made thinking an unnecessary bother at the moment.

Lena's hands slowly reached up Widow's arms and held her closer. She felt the woman's fingers run through her spiky hair and hold her head as a smooth tongue traced the seam of her lips. Lena sighed and allowed Widow access to the warmth of her mouth. She found her own moan of pleasure matched by Widowmaker's and it excited her beyond what she ever thought possible. This is insane, Lena thought, I have truly gone nutters.

Lena leisurely pulled from the kiss and really looked at the woman before her. Their breaths were small pants of desire and both felt a little flush. "I don't even know why I did that," Lena whispered. "I am drunk and scared and … confused?"

"I am not drunk," Widowmaker replied, "But I will agree that we share the other things."

"How?" Lena said. "You aren't supposed to feel … well, anything … are you?"

Widowmaker took a deep breath and looked Lena in the eye. "You know about how I was remade, but you don't know all of it."

"Enlighten me then," Lena said with a raised eyebrow.

"When they kidnapped me, they reprogrammed me, not just tortured and conditioned me," Widowmaker said sadly. "When the program activated two weeks later, I had no idea who I was nor anything regarding Amélie Lacroix. I did not see Gérard as my husband. I only saw him as a target. Amélie Lacroix was buried away in the farthest recesses of my mind and locked away. Talon took the now empty and vulnerable girl left and made Widowmaker. They trained me and conditioned me to take orders with no emotion, free will, or conscience.

"Then, a few months ago now, I started dreaming," Widow continued. "They were strange dreams of me doing things that seemed familiar, faces that seemed familiar talked to me, called me Amélie, and it was after a while, I realized they were repressed memories resurfacing. It was confusing because I couldn't remember how I knew things, names, and places, I had never known before."

Widowmaker started visibly shaking and her eyes filled with tears as she forced herself to continue. "I remembered Talon taking me," she said. "I had nightmares of them torturing me, and I knew … I knew, they had used me and lied to me. They ruined me. I had to keep it to myself and keep following orders. If they even began to suspect that my conditioning was fading and that I was starting to remember who I was and what I was before, they would kill me, Lena. I didn't want to kill anyone, you have to believe me. They conditioned me to follow orders and to enjoy it. They made me a psychopath who felt euphoria much like a drug addict when I killed. I was nothing but a weapon to them. I am nothing but a controllable, expendable weapon. If I don't perform to their expectations, they will kill me and find someone else to take my place."

Lena touched the woman's face and Widow realized the tears had fallen down her cheeks. Lena had such a look of sorrow.

"Do you understand now?" Widowmaker asked quietly. "Do you understand why I did the things I have done? I had no free will until now and now, I am trapped. I don't know how to get out."

"I knew it," Lena said as she hugged Widowmaker tight again. "The others had thought I had lost my marbles. I have to admit though, after you laughed at me like you were off your trolley, I truly thought I had misjudged you. I honestly thought you really were a complete psychopath."

"Not anymore," Widowmaker said. "You were the only one to see that. I don't know why, but after you started – I don't know how to say it. Teasing me is the best way I think – I started to break through. You shook me up and made me start feeling again. It was anger and frustration but then it started becoming something more."

"That and we kept running into each other," Lena said. "I couldn't really understand that. It wasn't like we planned it most of the time."

"Not until recently, I suppose," Widowmaker agreed.

"Do you believe it was meant to be?"

"Oui," Widowmaker said kissing Lena's cheek. "I certainly do."

"Why did you kiss me?" Lena asked quietly. "I certainly wasn't expecting that."

"Emily encouraged me to follow my feelings," Widowmaker replied.

Lena chuckled. "That has got to be the strangest thing ever. I would never have thought Emily would have talked you into making a move. I still can't believe you actually had a sit down and talked with my ex-girlfriend."

"It still hurts you to say that, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"I told her you still loved her and I know she still loves you."

"It just hurts is all," Lena admitted. "I thought she was the one and I would do anything for her."

Widowmaker was quiet for a moment and then she pulled away enough to look Lena in the eye. "I cannot be who I used to be anymore," she said. "But I can no longer be this mindless killer either. Help me to escape from Talon's influence and I promise you, I will love you with all my heart. Teach me to feel again, to be alive again, and I will be devoted to you."

Lena's eyes widened. "Oh wow, Widow," she said amazed. "I … wow, I've never had someone say that to me. I don't know what to say."

"Just say you will help me," Widowmaker said.

"Of course I will," Lena replied as she touched the woman's cold cheek. "We'll have to get help from the others too. I don't think I can do this alone."

"Others?"

"Overwatch," Lena said with a nod. "It will take a blinding proposal to get the others onboard but I will do what I can for you."

Widowmaker nodded and sighed thinking of the monumental task of having the other members of Overwatch listen and believe her story. "I know it will take a lot of effort but I am willing to do what is necessary. Don't give up on me. I may not be like Emily, but I promise you I will do all I can."

"I don't expect you to be like her," Lena said. "This is … strange to say the least. I mean, I didn't even know you liked me in that way. Hell, I didn't even know you liked girls."

"Neither did I until you got to me," Widowmaker smiled a genuine smile.