#sommei

Years ago, even before she'd been a Talon cadet, Sombra read through all Mei-Ling's reports. The translated versions, of course. Fascinating stuff, even if it took Sombra a while to process it all. She had to keep stopping every few pages and look something up, to better understand the theories presented within. 

Mei-Ling was an exceptionally skilled writer, able to weave a tale and break things down so that they were accessible to a novice like Sombra while not sacrificing any of the detail. Being a master of six languages, Mei-Ling did all her own translations when she could. Each as fluent and poetic as if it were her first.

"She's wasted on those Overwatch idiots," Sombra lamented loudly, leaning heavily on her desk, chin in her hands. "Uggghh, she's so cute, too. I bet she's straight."

So, of course, Sombra immediately began to cyber-stalk her.

As one does.

She got her chance a few months later, at a conference where Mei-Ling would be one of the keynote speakers. It was easy to forge a pass and get inside, and Mei-Ling was eager to speak to anyone willing to listen. She had an earnest crowd of listeners, all experts in their field. Sombra lingered just on the outskirts like a scavenger.

Dressed as normally as she ever was, Sombra still stuck out from the polos and geeky t-shirts that served as a uniform for the event. Skin tight navy from neck to toe, Sombra kept her blonde hair braided as neatly as she could get it and slung over one shoulder. Her ports were hard to hide, but a hat and some makeup did the trick... sort of.

As soon as the crowd dispersed, she swept in.

"Dr. Zhou?"

Up until she saw Mei-Ling in person, Sombra wasn't sure what she thought would happen. Ultimately she just wanted a chance to talk to the doctor. The truth was she often set her sights on a person in the hopes that she could peel them apart and look inside. Sombra knew on some level that she wasn't normal. While her targets were rarely average, they usually had a human element that she felt she lacked. Something inside her was missing, or had been rerouted to make room for some other, more important pathway. Always curious about that human element, she was drawn to it because she lacked it, and it's the rule of nature that every being craves homeostasis.

She wanted to study her.

But when Mei-Ling's dark eyes turned up to meet hers, Sombra felt as though she'd been ran over by a truck.

Hi, I have a crush on you and I know all your social media habits. Sign my face. You're adorable, you deserve kindness, you're my true unproblematic fave, you're a fascinating little time capsule of a person and I want to give you orgasms.

Fuck.

Of course Sombra didn't say any of that.

"Hi," Sombra said instead. "I'm a big fan."

With that out of the way, she forced herself into the conversation, monopolizing the doctor's time. Sombra treated this excursion like something halfway between a mission and a vacation. There was certainly no danger to be found in a convention full of desk nerds. Even the ones not confined to their labs were merely explorers like Mei-Ling. Those types were accustomed to months alone in the wilderness, not taking heavy fire behind enemy lines. 

So no one knew where Sombra was. Nobody needed to know, it was her business. It wasn't against the rules to talk to someone, after all. There was no solid proof that Mei-Ling had rejoined Overwatch. Sombra did a little digging and knew Mei-Ling was trying to retrieve data from old Ecopoints, but so far didn't have any contact with active operatives. 

As far as Sombra knew, Mei-Ling was working on another book, and a few research papers. The papers were interesting. The book promised to be an autobiographical account of Mei-Ling's journey and survival from Ecopoint Antarctica.

How did you make it out alive? Who rescued you? What happened?

Reporters had been hounding Mei-Ling with these same questions for months. So being a reporter was her cover while she attended the conference.

"Sorry, what did you say your name was?" Mei-Ling asked her, as Sombra pulled out a tablet. 

Licking her index finger, she tapped out a few codes and brought up a website. "Soldaderas. It's a small woman-owned print focusing on feminist news and notable figures in the world."

Staying polite, Mei-Ling's lips twitched a little. "I see. Well that's...very inspiring."

"It's all in Spanish," Sombra continued. She passed her tablet to Mei-Ling without fear, knowing that she wouldn't be able to access anything dangerous from it. As for the website and the publication, she'd created an AI to develop it for her overnight. Fake archive and everything. "Sorry."

"No, don't apologize! I just wish I could read it. I'm sure it's amazing!" When Mei-Ling passed the tablet back, those dark eyes flickered over her again. "But that's your paper's name, not yours. Did they not give you a name tag when you checked in?"

"Must've left it in my hotel room." Sombra lied smoothly. In truth she'd only bothered to make a fake press badge. She hadn't given much thought to what name she'd use, but another quick glance through her website brought out a few options. "Sylvia Ferrero."

They shook hands. Mei-Ling shocked her with a tight grip, almost crushing. "Mei-Ling Zhou."

She couldn't help it. Her lips curled in a smile as she leaned in. "I know."

The lenses behind Sombra's eyes were constantly capturing video feed, passively hacking into anything nearby that might be useful. Mei-Ling had one of those health-conscious wrist watches that monitored your heart rate. It spiked. Nerves? Excitement? Sombra couldn't tell. But she retreated with another easy smile, one fist on her hip.

"Like I said, I'm a big fan. Any chance I can get you alone later?"

With a practised amount of firmness that bordered the edge of rude, Mei-Ling said, "I'm not taking any interviews at this time, Ms. Ferrero." 

"I don't want an interview," Sombra shot back. 

A very long pause. "I have dinner plans tonight." Mei-Ling broke eye contact. "It's been a very long time since I've been able to see some of my associates."

"No te preocupes." Sombra produced a business card, running her nail over it once. It was perfectly blank, but a quick scan over with her tablet affixed all her fake information onto it. Including a temporary email and the number to her burner cell. "But let me know if you change your mind. I can take you outside the usual tourist traps."

Mei-Ling didn't seem upset or pleased, but she took the card. Maybe she was just being polite, but Sombra was fine with that. She'd been able to look into Mei-Ling's eyes, talk to her, and shoot her shot. So now she was going to enjoy the rest of the weekend. 

With her primary goal met, Sombra lurked through some of the major talks, taking a recording so she could sift through the information later. Some of this stuff was genuinely interesting, after all. And she could spend the rest of the night in her hotel room, getting some work done on the side.

Win-Win.

Hopefully the rest of the weekend would go just as smoothly.

 =

 The next morning Sombra bailed the talks and lectures to explore Mexico City instead. For all her talk of not succumbing to the tourist traps, it'd been a long time since she visited her second home. In between the GPS feeding input directly into her brain and old memories, she was able to navigate her way well enough. She was ordering lunch when the first text came in.

MLZ: Are you attending any panels today?  

Mei-Ling. She stared at the message for a while, unsure how to respond. Had her absence been that flagrant? Or had Mei-Ling been looking for her?

SF: No. I get too cramped staying indoors that long. 

She'd been caged once before. The stint behind bars changed her in more ways than one. Never again.

MLZ: That's a shame. I was hoping to introduce you to one of my colleagues. Her latest findings would make a great article, maybe. But I don't really know what kind of stories you're looking for. I don't want to assume.

How sweet. The thought of Mei-Ling looking for her, trying to help her, made Sombra smile.

SF: Don't be so quick to shut yourself down.

As much as she wanted to be casual, the instinct to spell-check was high when texting someone new.  

SF: You're a great writer, too. You've got good instincts, Dr. Zhou.

The response was instant.

MLZ: My friends call me Mei.

Something inside her trembled, a flicker of excitement.

SF: And is that what you would like me to call you, Dr. Zhou? :)

Shyness didn't suit her. But the teasing could have pushed Mei-Ling away. When the doctor didn't respond for a while, Sombra shrugged and went back to her day until she got a text that made her laugh out loud in shock.

MLZ: why would i tell you that if i didn't want you to (・_・)

   =

So they set up a meeting later that same day. Sombra didn't have an appetite— she rarely had an appetite— so they went out for drinks, which turned out to be a mistake because Mei was Buddhist and didn't drink.

"Well now I feel like an asshole," Sombra said.

Mei grinned at her, stirring a straw around her virgin daiquiri. "It's really not a big deal," she said. "It's not like you aren't allowed to drink in front of me." 

Taking a huge sip that drained half the glass, Mei sighed in relief. The heat was getting to her. She used a napkin to blot at her forehead. Sombra's eyes recorded every detail, noticing the white paper came away with a faint imprint of makeup. Mei was wearing a loose cotton dress. It was pretty, looked soft. Sombra thought about how nice it would feel to touch it, and the skin underneath, but then her attention was drawn back up to Mei's lips as she kept talking.

"I should have known," Sombra said. "Bad journalism practice to not know basic stuff like that."

"Okay, so we're going to stay on this subject? Fine. You should have known and I feel sooooo upset about it. I thought you were my biggest fan," Mei tutted. "What a shame."

"A big fan." Sombra corrected her, gently. She didn't want Mei to think she didn't enjoy the teasing. Far from it. "Not your biggest. I'm sure. So what'd I miss today? Anything exciting?"

Her eyes lit up at once. "Oh, tons! Saturday is when all the biggest names were talking, I was so shocked not to see you there!"

"I'm not really here for work," Sombra admitted. "I just used it as an excuse to get in for free. When I saw you, I thought I'd be dumb not to at least say hi."

"Naughty." Mei didn't seem too phased by that. "So you're just here for fun?"

"Personal reasons, I guess. I was born in Quintana Roo." 

The truth slipped out of her mouth so easily that for a solid ten seconds, Sombra's heart stopped beating. It had been so easy to say that. Mei didn't even know Sombra had spent most of her life trying to erase any records of her childhood. As far as the world was concerned, Sombra wasn't born anywhere. She was created. Everything before that was miles of useless code.

"I'm so sorry," Mei said. 

Of course she did. And of course she'd know most of the Yucatan Peninsula flooded some twenty-odd years before, a storm unlike anything ever recorded. Some twisting, keening mess, a maelstrom like the eye on Jupiter. It had taken a huge chunk of money and population with it. Every effort to fix it was like slapping a bandaid on a bulletwound.

It was already on record as one of the highest losses of human life in living history. Then, during the relief efforts, an omnium rose up from the depths. A monster of steel and death and hatred. A declaration of war on all humanity.

And the ocean rose up with it, flooding Sombra's entire world. 

It wasn't even a sore spot anymore, now that Sombra could see the bigger picture. Who could have predicted something like that, after all? Even if the seas had been rising slowly, and the storms got worse and worse every year. Who could be bothered with tracking emission levels when the world was at fucking war, you know? The bots were killing people in droves. Anyone who made it out alive was lucky if they escaped with all their limbs. If the waters didn't drown them first. 

"Nothin' to be sorry for," Sombra said, and didn't touch another drink for the rest of the night. But she was pretty sure it wasn't the booze that was loosening her tongue. 

"Sorry, should we talk about something that's not work?" Mei offered at one point. "I just realized I've been babbling this whole time."

"I like hearing you talk. I could listen to you talk all night, that's why I wanted to get you all to myself," Sombra said, and watched with satisfaction as Mei slowly turned red, from the top of her shoulders to the tips of her ears. 

After chewing on her tongue for a while, Mei finally said, "Ms. Ferrero. Is... is this a date?"

"Yes," Sombra said. "But don't worry. You're doing great ."

Mei set her palms on the table, thumb rubbing against the faded cloth. "Sylvia, I'm so flattered. Really. You're... an extremely beautiful woman."

Privately, Sombra preened under the praise, but kept quiet as Mei fumbled through the rest of her rejection.

"But my job has me mobile eleven months out of the year. I'm not... if you're trying... I can't really do a relationship right now."

Taking a wary glance at her cocktail, Sombra pushed it aside in favor of a glass of water. "I don't want a relationship." She let some sexual insinuation simmer between them for a moment, relishing the way Mei started to squirm. "I just wanted a chance to talk to you."

She reached across the table, resting one hand over Mei's. It felt very good, to touch another human like that. Lately Sombra had felt more machine than human. Every touch was a precursor to violence and death. 

How could she tell Mei how rare this was? That for once, she didn't have a plan? Or a long-game she was trying to play? The truth was this woman was special. If Sombra ever wanted a chance to talk to her again, she could never, ever know the truth. This was only a deception. A harmless one, but everything about this was still fake. 

What a pity.

"Anything else you decide to give me is just icing on top," Sombra finished. "So are we going to take this conversation somewhere private, or should I say goodnight?"

"I—" Mei started, then stopped. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I need a moment."

"Take all the time you need." Sombra dragged her chair closer, though, resting an arm around Mei's shoulder as she took a sip of her virgin drink.

"All right," Mei said, sounding fed up. "Now what are you doing?"

"I'm touching you." She demonstrated, hand on Mei's shoulder. The strap of Mei's dress rested under her palm. It'd be so easy to rip it in half but she didn't. More important than the flimsy dress was the satisfaction of being right; Mei's skin was soft. Goosebumps rose over bare skin as she stroked it. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," Mei admitted in a half-breath, quiet on the inhale. "I'm— this is— I've never— I don't usually—" And she was saved by her phone chirping loudly. Jumping up to her feet, Mei fumbled for her purse. "I have to take this call, excuse me!" and bolted.

You're acting like a bitch in heat, Sombra chided herself, but at the same time, she only had two modes. Uninterested, or all-in. She was chancing a rejection, but she only had a few days here if she wanted to avoid suspicion. It was all-in or it was nothing. 

Interestingly enough, Mei had left her cellphone out on the table when she ran off to answer the call. So maybe she had a second cell phone, one purely for work or emergencies. Sombra hoped nothing bad was happening; their date was going so well. When Mei returned she did look pale and unsettled, but didn't leave or imply anything was wrong, so Sombra chalked it up to internal politics.

More importantly, Mei said, "Okay."

Sombra made her sweat about it a little more, choosing not to respond until Mei gave her something proper to work with.

"If you want." Mei was sweating harder now. "We could talk more in my hotel room?"

"I'd love that," Sombra said. "And I'm not being sarcastic, either. If you want to just keep talking, that's fine. But I'll be frank, I'm at minimum expecting five minutes of quality cuddling time."

Taken aback, Mei laughed. "I'll take it under consideration." 

They kept holding hands the entire walk back to the hotel. Sombra could have floated there, elated, even if Mei kept dropping her every few blocks to wipe her palm on her dress. She explained her sweaty palms as nerves; Sombra reassured her, gently, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

The dead heat of summer wasn't doing either of them any favors. Even at night it pressed in, tight like Sombra pushing Mei against her hotel room door and kissing her as hard as she could. 

She tasted sweet, just a little sticky from her drink. It matched how pink her lips were. A small, sweet mouth that opened to her. Sombra felt like a real villain for a second, doing this when Mei didn't even really know her name or who she was. If Mei knew the truth any warmth would vanish between them. And Sombra pushed ahead anyway because she was hungry, at last, for touch and a human connection, and to be around someone good for once, someone unambiguously kind and nice.

Then Mei's phone started chirping again. Pushing her back, Mei frantically glanced around before sequestering herself in her hotel bathroom with a panicked, "Be right back, S— uh, Sylvia!"

Sombra chuckled, wiping her mouth off with her fingers and then licking what remained off of them. Sitting down on the edge of Mei's bed, she looked around curiously. The desire to spy and snoop was at an all time high, but she doubted there was anything in here she could use for her real job. 

Still, she was restless by the time Mei emerged from the bathroom. As much as she tried to rein it in she knew her sexual frustration must be obvious. She felt like she must be smoking from the effort, a smoldering coal resting there on the bed, tracking Mei's every move and recording it all.

But something about the way Mei was fidgeting cleared the smoke out of Sombra's eyes. Mei was still sweating, but pale now. Even in the air-conditioned room she fidgeted and fretted, trembling faintly. 

 "Are you okay?" When Sombra got up and walked over to her, she put the back of her hand against Mei's forehead. No fever. "You seem a little shaken up. Should I leave?"

"No!" Mei said quickly, hugging her tight. "I want you to stay. Please."

Touched, Sombra returned the embrace. A little too late, she thought about the timeline of events. If Mei had even been on a date since she'd been thawed out.

What must it be like, Sombra wondered, to be thrown forward into another decade? It wasn't as though Mei was fragile, but Sombra's guilt needled a little deeper at the realization that it might have been a very long time since anyone touched Mei, too. 

"You look like something went wrong at work," Sombra guessed. "I'll be a distraction, if you need one."

"Yeah," Mei said, but she stiffened up and didn't relax when Sombra kissed her again.

Unsettled and a little put off, Sombra drew back again. She didn't say anything but she didn't really need to. No doubt Mei knew the kind of energy she was putting off, the bad-touch tension of a woman who was afraid and uncomfortable. 

There wasn't a bigger turn off in the world, but more frustrating was how Mei refused to acknowledge it.

When that fucking cell phone went off again, Sombra knew nobody was getting laid tonight. 

"Listen. I had a really good time tonight," she said, kissing Mei briefly on her forehead. "But I think I ought to go now."

"Go?" Mei's voice cracked. "No, wait, you can't! Um. I mean I'd like it if you didn't!"

Eyes narrowing, Sombra moved past her towards the door. "Well I'd like to leave. Good night, Dr. Zhou. I'll text you later."

But Sombra didn't get to leave.

A sudden drop of temperature in the room and a loud crackle, like an ice shelf breaking, was all the warning she got. 

Something knocked against her hard, like being socked with an iron fist. It seeped into her skin, wrapping around her, and the next thing Sombra knew she was trapped hip deep in a block of ice.

"You're not going anywhere until backup arrives, Sombra," Mei said, circling around her. 

In her hand was a gun, unlike any Sombra had ever seen. 

Mei was still shaking, sweating hard. Every inch of her. Chest rising sharp and hard from her breathing. She wasn't accustomed to confrontation but the gun looked natural in her hands, like she'd used it before. Maybe not for this, though. Probably not for this. And that loud chirping rang out again, but Mei didn't retrieve a cell phone from her purse.

It was a bronze and white communicator. The kind for active Overwatch operatives. It chirped until Mei silenced it.

"Oh, what the fuck," Sombra said. Her hands were caught in the trap as well. She struggled, squirming, until she felt the cold muzzle of the gun press against her chest. "Gonna shoot an unarmed woman?"

"It won't kill you," Mei said, and despite the situation actually sounded pretty proud about that. "It's a nonlethal restraining device, for—" then she shook her head. "I mean, I'm not telling you anything. Overwatch is here to protect the world from people like you. So whatever Talon was planning to do with me, you can forget it!"

"Planning to— I didn't even know you were still an Overwatch agent! I thought you were a goody two-shoes." Something else hit her, metaphorically. "Oh fuck," she said, "This means you knew more about me than I knew about you. That's messed up, Mei. You even made me pay for our drinks!"

"Stop talking." Mei closed her eyes. "It's only been one evening and I'm already exhausted by how much you lie."

Maybe it was silly, but hearing that was almost worse than being shot. Sombra stopped squirming, struck with the words, and the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to argue against them. 

"I already told you I wasn't here for work," was all she managed to say, quiet and feeble. "The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. This wasn't a, like, this wasn't Talon. It was just me. I wasn't hired to stalk you or whatever."

"Why should I believe a word you say?"

There wasn't really a good reason. Every inch of this was fucked, though Sombra doubted Mei knew the truth from the beginning. She was the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. More likely one of her buddies notified her via the communicator. Sombra was getting sloppy; she didn't think anyone would be monitoring Mei-Ling. 

Her mistake. And now she was paying for it.

"I guess you'll just have to take my word for it," Sombra said. 

She looked up into Mei's eyes. And then she evaporated into a mass of pixels and glitching artifacts. Rematerializing in her own hotel room, Sombra gasped and writhed on the floor. Traveling like that always did a number on her, but she'd never been more glad that her paranoia insisted she keep an active transmitter in her room whenever she left it. 

Time wasn't on her side, though. She couldn't afford to moan and complain. Quickly packing her things, Sombra tossed another translocator outside the window and landed on street level.

She spared a glance up at the hotel, scanning each open window for sign of a face, or a waving gun, or hear an angry shout. But all she heard was the sound of an aircraft in the distance. This far from an airport she knew it had to be a covert Overwatch vehicle, and knew she had to vanish.

So she did, cloaking herself and running away as fast as she could.

  =

 Six months later Mei-Ling had a problem. 

She got into a self-driving car, letting it take her away from her labs, privately funded by Overwatch. The Petras Act meant none of her connections to the paramilitary group could go public, but that wasn't going to stop her when she was so close to another breakthrough.

"All I need is what's in this corrupted data," she said, holding her laptop open and typing onto it. She gathered what she could from the Ecopoints, but so much had been lost to time and wear. The degrading force of harsh environments. 

Sitting back, she sighed.

"So that's why I need you."

Next to her, on the empty seat, a body materialized. 

Sombra looked wildly different than that first time they had met. Her hair was black with purple streaks, and nothing hid the ports on her skull and neck anymore. Dark markup made her ghoulish and sinister, a grinning skull in the shadows. 

"I gotta say, I wasn't expecting a call after how our last date went," she purred. "What made you think that burner cell would still be active?"

"Lucky guess. You were the only one I could think of that might help," Mei said. Not wanting to seem cowed, she forced herself to meet purple eyes. Inhuman eyes, unfeeling. This was all a game to Sombra, surely, and everyone around her just wasn't allowed to read the rules. "So, can you?"

"Claro que sí. But what makes you think you can trust me?"

"I don't. But I know you aren't any more loyal to Talon than you are to Overwatch." Disgusted, Mei spat out, "You're only in it for yourself."

"That's the only way to be." Stretching out like a well-fed cat, Sombra made herself comfortable in the backseat. 

Again, Mei wondered how she'd ever thought Sombra was a reporter. When her contacts in Overwatch had warned her of the danger, it made a perfect sort of sense. Sombra radiated power in a way that Mei couldn't place. The moment their eyes had first locked she'd been breathless, jittery as if an electric current had attached to her spine. Every move Sombra made drew her attention, every touch had her heart leaping out of her chest. At first she'd thought it to be attraction, until the call came in. Now she knew it was fear. 

It had to be fear.

There wasn't room for any other interpretation.

Once upon a time, Mei had watched all her friends die. She'd been helpless. She wasn't going to let something like that happen again, she wasn't going to let it have all been in vain. Not as long as she drew breath. No matter who or what threatened the peace, she would stop them, and she would never, ever let her guard down.

"My prices are steep," Sombra warned.

"We can pay you whatever you want," Mei said quickly. "Name it."

No matter how strange it made her feel when Sombra stared at her with those large, purple eyes, she wasn't going to back down.

Until Sombra tilted her head to the side, disarming her with a rare, genuine smile.

Not a smirk, not something that made Mei feel like she was about to be swallowed whole.

"How about a second date?"

It was warm, and unguarded, and though she knew it must be a lie...