#caduceusangel

She got scouted because she was one of the best in her field, not to mention her ingenious technology and the massive amounts of potential it held. With Overwatch’s influence and funding. There’s no doubt she’ll reach great heights.

So having to wake up at the crack of dawn for combat training she didn’t know about. Just. Slightly cranky from waking up after pulling another all-nighter developing her tech. She’s standing in line with all the other non-combatants, pretty confused and sleep on their minds. There’s a little kick of energy though. Seeing the charming Strike Commander himself walk in to brief them in. Overwatch’s poster boy. John ‘Jack’ Morrison.

Jack carried himself with the sort of confidence most found appealing. Not cocky, but poised. Despite the group’s tired appearance, the Commander remained sanguine as he came to a halt in front of the line, looking the small party over one by one. “I apologize for the short notice, but numbers are showing you are all the best of the best in your field. We’ve had some issues with Talon attempting raids on Watchpoints, so all of you will be armed in the event you ever need to protect yourselves. Talon is smart, they’ll go after our brains before they go after our brawn. As a result, we’re here to brief you on the ins and outs of gun use and maintenance. If you already know how to use one, stick around anyway for a refresher.” He said, sliding a finger across the screen of the tablet he held in his hand to brief the next few pages - deem whether or not they were worth mentioning. Nope. He tossed the tablet over his shoulder to the guard on his left, who caught it coolly and tucked it under his arm. Commander Morrison was flanked on both sides by armed guards, who were obviously there to provide some of the training, judging by the extra pistols on their belts. Jack motioned to the two men on either side of Ziegler and hooked a finger over his shoulder in the direction of the guards. “And Dr. Ziegler, you’ll come with me.” Jack said, casting a friendly glance at the woman before turning away with her to lead her to the target range. He was free until noon in the way of mission briefings, so he resolved he could work in some time to get to know their best doctor. “What are your qualifications in the way of combat, have any?” He asked, curious to know if he was working with a blank slate or not.

She keeps her eyes on him, hanging onto his words. Sounds… reasonable enough. Kind of like, basic self-defense. She had those classes before, streets aren’t always safe at night. This is basically that, except with guns. She still feels extremely sluggish, the urge to yawn, to stretch, to rub at her eyes. Overwhelming. But, that’s probably disrespectful and downright rude. Especially in front of the commander.

Whatever notion of sleep she had in her was jolted awake as she watched almost in slow motion how the commander just tossed the tablet over his shoulder like it was nothing. there may have been a small eep coming from the woman as the piece of tech sailed through the air into the arms of one of his guards.

She still a tad dumbfounded and currently running on fumes, her response is a tad delayed. “What?” She looks up at his smiling face, giving a small nervous smile of her own. “Right, yes commander.” And she follows after him silently, just- observing, the blue of his coat. his very neat and clean cut blonde hair, the already silvering bits at the side was of particular interest to her. For someone so young? Already?

She watches as her other colleagues are attended to by guards, but here she is in the care of the commander. Can’t help but feel a little bit of an ego boost. Angela looks around, watches the paper targets off towards the distance, down each alley. Kind of like a dartboard, but a person.

There’s a small chuckle as she shakes her head. “Sorry to say this commander, but I haven’t held a gun, ever. I took some self-defense classes. But that’s about it.”

“Self defense is handy, good to know you already know that.” Jack stated, reaching over and pulling a pistol from its holster on his belt. “Here, get a feel for it.” He passed her the gun, it was very basic and low-tech, a small pistol for nothing more than self defense. He rested a hand on his hip and leaned a shoulder against the wall of the shooting alley they were in, giving her time to inspect the gun and hold it. Down the way, a few shots rang out, where others were in the midst of their own practice sessions. Jack noticed a faint reaction out of the woman, a small flinch. That would go away, with time, that sort of reaction. Not that it was necessarily a good thing, getting accustomed to such noises. “What made you step into the medical field, Dr. Ziegler?” He asked, legitimately curious rather than just trying to strike up conversation.

Brows raise as she takes the gun in both hands. She looked afraid for a second, but she rationalizes, not knowing is what causes her fear. And she begins turning the gun every which way, observing the tool in her hands. Weight, every groove, reading whatever has been embossed onto the metal, serial numbers, gun model.

Hearing the sound of gunshots from the others, the reaction is anything but faint, she almost jumps in surprise from the first shot, there might have been a little eep coming from the doctor.

What was the question, she looks at him for a second, gathering her thoughts, grateful for the distraction of conversation. Although it brings up a tad more bittersweet memories than she bargained for. “My parents.” She says with a smile as she continues to examine the weapon. “They were both doctors, and I wanted to be like them, do what they do. Save lives.” She closes one eye, peering down the barrel of the pistol with the other.

Eyes flicker back up at the commander. “One of the few things I was sure of. Do you know the feeling commander? A decision so right there’s logically no other decision other than that. That’s what going into medicine felt like for me. There’s nothing else I’d love to do.”

Jack nodded in understanding, seemed like a simple enough reason. His relaxed demeanor left suddenly when he caught her peering down the barrel of the gun. And yes, while the safety was on, that was still an uncomfortable position to have someone in. He reached out to stop her, but she stopped herself before he could grab hold of the gun. He quickly withdrew his hand to his own chin, eyebrows raised in a mixture of terror at her last action and interest in her current one as she began speaking. “O-oh, yes, I understand completely.” He said, working through the small start she’d given him, his hand moving from his chin to the back of his neck. “It’s good to know you were able to achieve your dream, with any luck your work here at Overwatch will continue to fuel that.” He beamed brightly, that charismatic smile of his. Then, he offered his hand, motioning for the gun. “I’ll show you first, then you try to copy me, fair?” He said. Turning with the pistol, he took aim at the paper targets, making sure to describe all the points in the stance he took and why they were important before clicking the safety off and firing.  He wasn’t the best shot, but he hit the target close enough to his intended location.

Angela gives a sweet little smile, “That’s the plan commander. I’m nearing a breakthrough in my research with nanotech. I won’t let you down.” For the first time this morning, there’s a fire in her eyes at the hint of her research, high-speed cell regeneration induced by nanobots. It’ll be revolutionary. Costly, initially yeah, but revolutionary.

As Jack takes the gun from her hands, the nerves come right back in place of that passion. She holds both hands together, rubbing at her palms as she listens as intently as she can at his instructions, not at all minding the different shots going off all around them.

What was that? She missed that bit, but far too embarrassed and nervous to ask the commander to repeat it.

“Alright, I think I can try.” Angela mimics his stance, holds the gun up, she lines up the shot. “So like-” And the gun just goes off, did she even squeeze the trigger? Maybe. She screams a bit, body tense as she jumps back puts the gun down on the table and takes one more step back, visibly shaken. “I- I didn’t even-”

Jack stepped back a foot or two, watching her posture. Before he could even move in to correct it, she fired the gun. The bullet was nowhere near a target, and the pistol kicked up before she hastily set it down. Jack started a laugh, but caught himself, covering his mouth. He didn’t want to laugh at her, she might take it the wrong way. “Look, it’s fine, it’s a hair-trigger - it shoots easily.” He explained with a grin on his lips. Probably something he should have mentioned sooner, the guilt was evident on his face. He picked up the gun and moved behind her, pushing it back into her hands. “Just don’t touch that trigger ‘til you’re ready to shoot.” He advised, resolving that tomorrow he’d bring a pistol that took a bit more pressure to fire. He leaned over Angela’s shoulder, his hands moving from her wrists, to her elbows, to her shoulders, to correct her stance. “There, that’s better, keep your wrists locked.” He said softly, closing one eye and basically pressing his cheek against hers to look down the sights with her and line her up in the correct spot. “Aaaaand, there. Try again.” He smiled, pulling away and placing his hands on his hips.

She has both hands hands covering her mouth, a bit of a whimper escaping as he talks. Her brows knit together, obviously bothered by just what happened, embarrassed and now annoyed at how he grinned.

Angela takes a deep breath and attempts to relax somewhat. Letting the commander be her guide. Alright, focus Angela, you can do this. She relaxes her form. She held her cool as his hands ran down her arm, fixing her posture, making sure her grip is strong and steady. The moment she feels the graze of his stubble against her cheek, Angela flinches noticeably, but moves to fix the posture as he directed just seconds ago. Her cheeks flush slightly, if not only for how close they were, but well, there’s a little bit of a crush probably.

She squints down the target, her trigger-finger resting down the side of the gun. She takes another breath and steels herself as she finally fires. Out of instinct she squeezes her eyes shut as the gun fires, a quiet little gasp as the gun kicks back slightly in her grip. As she blinks her eyes open, she’s very pleased to see a hole in the paper target, around the very edge of the shoulder. Carefully, very carefully she puts the gun down.

There’s a grin and she turns to face, Jack, obviously very excited at making the shot, the bullet went through the target and that’s so much better than the first ‘shot’. “I hit it!”

When she turned around, Jack was just beaming. His arms akimbo, hands settled on his hips with a proud smile on his face. “Yes!” He said, pumping a fist into the air. “You’re doing better than I did when I shot my first gun.” He admitted. “Go ahead, try a few more times. When that clip is empty I’ll show you how to reload.” He got the ammo clip ready, waiting patiently. She was doing quite well, he felt as though he had underestimated her. He walked her through the steps of reloading the glock, there weren’t many, and once she got it down it would be muscle memory. “You’re doing well, Doc.” He complimented as he finished loading the gun. “You good at just about anything you put your mind to?”

She grins widely, crackling with energy, what was sleep? “Yes!” She excitedly says with him. Angela nods and she turns to face down the firing range. She takes the gun and takes aim once more, mentally repeating each and every step Jack had taught her after every shot. Angela takes her time, each shot still gets her to flinch, ruining the shot at the last second. Still, not too bad. out of the 9 shots she counted, including the earlier two. She managed to hit the target around 5 times. 3 of which are grazing shots, 1 in the thigh, and the last one on the sternum.

She sets the gun down carefully once more, and listens as he takes her by the hand teaching her how to reload the glock. Doing this about several times, again, mentally listing each step methodically. Muttering under her breath as she goes through each one on her own now. A satisfied smile as she hears the same click as he did it.

“Thank you, commander.” She finds herself laughing, and there’s a shake of her head. “No, not usually. More often than not, I’m terrible when I start things out, guess I’m lucky I have such a good instructor with me. Thank you.”

“And please, we’re not in the medical bay, you don’t have to call me Doc, or doctor. Call me Angela.”

Jack gave her a playful grin. “In that case,” He said, “drop the ‘Commander’ thing, just call me Jack.” He turned toward the target then, taking the same stance as before as he emptied the clip into the target down the alley. Once it was empty, he let Angela go through the motions of reloading it again to get her accustomed to doing so. He crossed his arms as she reloaded the gun, watching her hands as she did so. “We’re thankful for the research you’re bringing to the table, by the way.” Jack said. When his gaze met her face, he could still see the tiredness in her eyelids. He’d let her sleep in tomorrow, he was sure she had pulled enough all-nighters before being forced to wake bright and early short-notice for training sessions. He’d at least like her to know she was considered a person here, not a robot that dished out ideas and tech. 

Again she recounts the steps mentally, lips curling into a smile as he asks her to call him Jack from now on. She goes through the same process, hands delicately and daintily going over the gun, there’s the same click and she hands him the gun resting on her palms.

“Well then. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Jack. And I’m only doing my job and then some. Speaking of, I want to show you something I’m developing. I was preparing a presentation to pitch this idea, but I think having your opinion would be great feedback. As it is something a battle-field oriented and you have more experience and knowledge in that subject matter than I would. Do you have some time?” Angela smiles up at him, palms pressed together, fingertips just barely touching her bottom lip. Please? She says with her eyes.

Jack tilted his head and returned her smile, opening his mouth to speak before closing it quickly when he noticed her severe attempt at begging. He laughed lightly, folding his arms across his chest. Well he definitely couldn’t say no after that. “Of course, I’ll check it out.” He tugged his phone from his pocket then to check the time. “Let’s wrap this up and go do that right now. I’ve got a meeting in an hour and a half but that should give us more than enough time.” He said, moving to take the pistol from her to holster it once more. “Lead the way, Angela.” He offered, holding the door open for her to leave the range. Honestly, he was planning to work her through more gun handling basics until his meetings, but after witnessing how excited the prospect of showing him her new tech made her, he simply couldn’t refuse. 

“Oh thank you! And it wouldn’t take that long, I promise.” Her smile is practically infectious, barely able to contain herself.

She gives a gracious nod as she walks through the door giving her thanks once again. As she leads him down to the medical wing, there’s an obvious pep to her step, how her ponytail seemed to bob with every step, they go through the area, a lot of personnel pause and give a salute to the commander. She passes through her own medical team, giving them happy little waves as they stare at the pair. And finally to her own private office and lab. Waving her hand over the scanner, there’s a click and a beep and the door slides open.

It’s pristine inside, everything’s neatly organized, save for some sheets of paper with nearly unintelligible writing scattered across her work desk. One she quickly sweeps over with a hand, stacking into a pile to put in the corner of the table.

“From my latest reports, I’ve been developing a way to make my current tech more, portable, right now it does it’s job but it’s far too bulky and a tad inefficient cost wise. But in the topic of portable, I figured, arming our troops with portable healing kit would improve survivability as well as the overall success rate of the mission. But what if something is beyond what the PHK can do, or if they run out of it and the medic themselves can’t properly address the problem under fire.” She taps at the holo screen in her desk, pulling up files and folders finally pressing one with yesterday’s date named, Caduceus Project. The initial blueprints of the Caduceus Staff comes into play, the intricacies of it, how it functions.