#wingsofjustice

This is group SMS chat 24/7.

Send “lore” and I’ll write an urban legend or ghost story about your character

The first time it happens, Morrison doesn’t think much of the whole thing. He’s shaving while he waits for the bathtub to fill, ready to plunk little Fareeha into the water with her toys once he’s done. No big deal. He loves to babysit for her on the rare occasions that he gets to see her.

Jack sets her toys on the edge of the tub, then checks on her. She’s sitting on the toilet lid, watching him shave. Over her shoulder, she’s slung a facecloth, mimicking the hand towel over his shoulder.From behind them, Morrison hears a clatter. Ever the soldier, he clenches his teeth and spins around, ready to attack whatever human or animal made the noise. There’s nothing there, however, and he puffs a little bit of laughter at the toys now floating in the water. 

“Whoops. Uncle Jack’s a klutz, huh?” He reaches over and pats Faree’s head, then returns to shaving. 

“Hey, when I do this tomorrow, you wanna practice with me?” Morrison will remove the blade, of course, and make sure she uses only lotion on her little face, but it’ll still be fun for Fareeha and an easy way to keep an eye on her. “That’s fun, right?”

“Can we now?” 

She sounds so hopeful, it actually makes Jack ache at the center of himself, but he gives her a gentle smile and shake of the head. “I’m almost done, sweetheart, and we don’t want your bath to get cold. But tomorrow, I promise. Okay?”

Fareeha shrugs amiably enough, content to be four and have a bubble bath with toys. She watches with huge, luminous brown eyes as he finishes up and washes off. Morrison gives her a thumbs up and she returns it. As she disrobes for her bath, Jack adjusts the little footstool so he can help her climb in an–

They both stop and stare, eyes wide. They look nothing alike, yet by expression, they’re almost indistinguishable. It’s Jack who speaks first, looking down at the little one before looking back at the toys. He knows better, knows, but that doesn’t stop him from asking, “You didn’t do that, right?”

She shakes her head, then reaches up and takes his hand.

“Not me, Papa. Scotty.”

Morrison blinks and shakes his head in return, not understanding. By instinct, he picks her up and holds her close to him, not trusting anything when there’s some sort of invisible danger lurking. 

The room seems no different, no matter how hard he strains to feel the disturbance and after a moment, he exchanges another look with Fareeha. Muscles tense, as if preparing for a horror flick jump scare, then he reaches out forcibly knocks the toys back into the tub and…

…

…

Nothing. Nothing happens. 

Morrison turns with a grunt and starts to set Fareeha down again. Talk about anti-climactic.  

“Uncle Jack’s gettin’ jump– “

Thwack!

Jack spins around again, hands ready to rip apart anything that suggests danger. There’s a large wet spot on the back of his head from where the toy struck him, still dripping with warm water from the tub. 

“I did not send this ask, but I do appreciate your honesty. Didn’t think you’d think of me that way, Brigitte.”

Now look here.

I person needs t’know their own junk. I don’t care if yer male, female or undecided, y’gotta know what ya got.

So yeah, she would be, an’ god help me fer sayin’ this, but she needs t’ handle herself proper so she knows when someone does it wrong.

Oh he has an idea what she means. Pharah, sweet girl, you forget that Zenyatta can read body language, and auras. And if Pharah’s aura has anything to say, she is definitely asking it for herself, but he decides to humor her.

“Dating a Shimada hm..” he says, rubbing his chin, appearing to be in deep thought. “Well, since I am currently dating Genji, I assume you mean Hanzo. Using their last name is a broad term, seeing as both brothers are vastly different, yet have some things in common.”

“They are both as stubborn as mules, though.” he adds with a snicker.

“What it is like dating Genji? It is wonderful. Genji is kind and funny, a bit of a dork, but aren’t I? He is very caring, remembers what I like and what I do not like, he is very thorough, and also a tad protective, but in an endearing way. Genji means the world to me, and I wouldn’t have him in any other way. His good habits and bad habits, they are all a part of him, and thats why I love him, for who he is.”

“Hanzo is…a tad different than Genji. He’s calm and calculated, where Genji is impuslive and head-on. He might seem annoyed or irritated, but he has a gentle soul. I think he has build up barriers around himself to protect himself from others, or to protect others from hurting, but once you get through that, you will have a very caring, strong and protective lover.”

Christamighty, this day.

There hadn’t been any one particular stressful part of it, but it had been hectic since Jesse woke up. Early briefings, getting together with Lena and Lucio to finish a post-mission report that was far overdue, a training session with Genji that had quickly turned into a sparring match and then a grudge battle. That had lasted until dinner, and when Winston had asked for help cleaning out one of the older storage rooms, he’d seen Reinhardt wince slightly, and quickly volunteered himself. Most of his non-mission days on base since the recall had been pretty relaxed, but this one had damn near worn him out.

It was still a bit early to turn in, though, and he hadn’t had a smoke in days. He was doing a lot less of it lately, between politeness to the people around him and Angie’s constant disapproving glares every time she saw him with one, so wrapping up a busy day with a cigarillo and a drink sounded like a fantastic plan.