1A gif: Jack and Amélie playing house owner and maid.
While Mercy was ceetainly the most dedicated to making and wearing elaborate costume, Widowmaker also appreciated doing it every once in a while.
And so, after some digging, she had found a skimpy French maid uniform, had worn it, and had made a show of going into the commander's office to 'clean' with a feather duster and little else.
After about half an hour of 'cleaning', which had mostly consisted of teasing Jack, she jad moved to stand in front of him.
"I've finished cleaning your office, monsieur. How may I serve you ?"
"I've got a good idea." Jack grinned, getting up from his chair to free his hyoer cock, letting Amélie whimpers and her pussy drool at the sight. "I think my cock is filthy too, clean it."
"It's always a pleasure to serve you, mr. Morrison." Amélie smiled, getting into position.
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#2 widow 76 (widow 76 = flipped around version of reaper and mercy)
Me, reading this prompt: “Oh cool! I can make a fic that’s a companion fic to that McSombra one!”
Me, reading “Widow 76 = flipped around version of reaper and mercy:”
2. “You do this sort of thing often?”
—
“Just– be sure to call it in if your chest starts hurting,” Sombra spoke over the comm.
“I know,” said Amélie, walking across the rooftop.
“Flashbacks too. And tunnel vision,” said Sombra, “Any disorientation–”
“You’re acting like I’ve never sat on a roof and aimed a gun before,” said Widowmaker, a bit irritated.
“Technically this is your first mission without Talon pulling your strings,” said Sombra, “Plus, last time we were in Dorado…”
“I know,” said Amélie, her voice a bit softer now, “Don’t worry about me, mon coeur, just focus on getting that intel with the cowboy.”
“Got it,” said Sombra, “You take care.”
“You too,” said Amélie, ending the call.
Widowmaker brought the scope of the rifle up and looked through it. It was a simple two-pronged mission: Harass, distract, and disrupt Los Muertos supply lines throughout the town, drawing their numbers out from Mictlan, allowing Sombra and McCree to grab the intel Sombra insisted was hidden in a terminal in there. Simple enough. She brought down her recon visor, expecting to have the whole thing thrown off whack from Winston’s pitiful attempts at repairs to it, but it worked just as well as it did with Talon.
“This is Lúcio with Bastion,” Lúcio spoke over the comm channel, “First point secured.”
Widowmaker pulled her comm away from her ear for Bastion’s beeping agreement, which always screeched with a bit of feedback over the comm before putting it back in her ear.
“Excellent work, Dos Santos. Hold position,” Jack spoke over the comm. “Oxton, flank Point B from the southwest.”
“Got it, chief!”
“Widowmaker, do you have visual contact?”
Widowmaker first turned her scope on a blue flash zipping through the streets. She scanned across the windows then fired off her grapple to a nearby water tower and perched on it for a different vantage point. “Southwestern sector is secure,” she said.
“Can I get a second confirmation on that?” Tracer spoke over the comm.
“It looks like you’re just going to have to trust me, cherie,” said Widowmaker, looking through the scope at Tracer.
“You’re here and not in a cell, I’d say that’s more than enough trust,” said Tracer.
“Dial it back, Oxton,” said Jack as Widowmaker turned her scope on Lúcio and Bastion.
“Dos Santos and the Siege unit are confirmed secure,” said Widowmaker.
“All right. Moving out,” said Jack.
The next several minutes passed with little disruption. It was odd, being on a mission where there wasn’t exactly anyone she had to kill. She found herself continually looking through her own scope at her teammates. She knew not to pull the trigger, but it was sort of force of habit from the vague memories she had of Talon listing targets in her head. She turned her scope onto Jack and let the crosshairs trail up to his head.
“Bang,” she said softly.
Jack suddenly dropped to the ground.
Amélie lowered her gun in horror. Had she done that? had she killed him? No, there had been no blood. “Morrison?” she quickly rang him up on the comm.
Jack grunted. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?” said Amélie.
“Nothing! I’m fine! Maintain your vantage point!” said Jack.
“Should I get Lúcio?” said Amélie.
“I said maintain the vantage point!” said Jack. Widowmaker narrowed her eyes and brought down her recon visor to see Jack’s collapsed figure behind a car.
“You are not strike commander,” said Amélie, firing a grappling hook over in Jack’s direction, “And Winston said to use our own discretion.” She leapt off the roof and retracted the grapple until she reached the opposite building, then rappelled down the side of it easily. Jack was gripping his ankle on the ground with a biotic field glowing around him. He glanced up at her.
“Get back in position,” he said.
“I will,” she said, hauling his arm over her shoulder and firing her grapple back onto the roof.
“You sure that thing can support two—” Jack started but Widowmaker retracted the grapple and both shot up onto the roof. “Watch the leg–watch–” Jack grunted as Widowmaker let go of him and he fell onto the roof, his hand went to his ankle again. Widowmaker swatted his hand away.
“Straighten your leg out,” said Widowmaker.
“What, you’re a medic now?” said Jack, sitting up.
“Dancer,” said Widowmaker.
“What?” said Jack.
“Does this hurt?” said Widowmaker, moving his foot slightly.
Jack grunted in pain. “Yep–Yeah that hurts.”
“Lateral sprain,” said Widowmaker, “The girls in my studio would get it all the time.”
“Look, I just need another biotic field and—”
“The way you’re using biotics will just make your leg lock up more,” said Amélie, elevating his ankle, “Try and relax.”
Jack scoffed. “You do this sort of thing often?”
“Dancer,” Widowmaker said again. Jack gave her a steady look which prompted her to explain further. “The thing about being a ballerina is,” she said, grabbing a biotic field distributor off of Jack’s belt, “You hurt your feet and legs. A lot. I was lucky enough to be married to a man who could give me access to a steady supply of biotics for myself and other injured dancers in my studio to keep us all on our feet,” she smirked, “Gave us a bit of a competitive edge over other dance companies. Relax your leg.”
“Gérard snuck you biotics?” said Jack.
“I said relax your leg, and yes,” said Amélie “Can’t always call a physical therapist when a show is in 3 hours.” She glanced up at Jack and rolled her eyes, “Oh don’t give me that look. They were his unused own standard issue biotics from missions. They would have gotten thrown out anyway.”
Jack was quiet as Widowmaker carefully pried off his boot. He grunted a bit as she felt around his ankle, then watched as she worked and got the biotic field generator to disperse a more concentrated stream at his ankle.
“How much do you remember?” he asked.
Widowmaker glanced up, then looked down, “A lot of what Talon did to me either I blocked out myself or is so…” she gestured vaguely at her head, “…affected that I really can’t trust the memory,” she looked out over the city, “But I find I’ve been… remembering more of Gérard… of the time before they made me…” she itched a bit underneath her recon visor, “There hasn’t been a huge rush yet… mostly broken pieces. But there’s more and more of them every day that I can put together.” She was quiet for a while, “I know you don’t trust me,” she said at last.
“Well if you give everyone some time to–”
“It would be stupid to trust me completely. Never trust me completely. I don’t trust me completely,” said Widowmaker, “I know what I can do. Is your comm off?”
“Yeah,” said Jack, “Didn’t want to subject people to an old man complaining about his bum ankle.”
Widowmaker smirked a little before turning her attention back to his ankle. Her smile faded. “If Talon finds some way to activate me again, you need to stop me.”
“I will,” said Jack.
“By any means necessary,” said Widowmaker.
“It’s not going to come to—” Jack started.
“Any means, Jack,” said Widowmaker, looking at him with a furrowed brow, “Take off the visor. Look me in the eye.”
Jack complied and clicked the visor off.
“Give me your word that you won’t let what happened with Gérard happen again,” said Amélie.
“I don’t know if I can—”
“I can’t do it again, Jack,” said Amélie, “I won’t do it again, and if I do it again, then the thing that is doing it again is not me and it needs to be killed. Give me your word that if it comes to that, you’ll stop me. I know Sombra won’t do it so it has to be you.”
Jack sighed. “I won’t let what happened with Gérard happen again,” he said.
“Good,” said Widowmaker. She glanced down at Jack’s ankle. “Try moving it now.”
Jack rotated his ankle a bit and nodded before pulling his boot back on. “I should… be getting back to Oxton,” said Jack. He cleared his throat. “Thanks.” Amélie nodded and used her grapple to get him back down to street level and gave him cover fire as he ran to the rendezvous point to Tracer. She used her scope to make sure he was running all right, when he suddenly turned, and for a moment it felt as if he was giving her eye contact through the scope. He gave her a small salute and she pulled away from the scope and scoffed. “Pfft. Americans,” she muttered.
