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lilyofthesword-writes · 4 years ago

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The Deal (The Mandalorian Oneshot)

Summary: You work as a mechanic and part time mercenary (when required) for Ran and his crew. Ran forces you on one more mission with an old Mandalorian “friend” alongside Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an and Zero.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some violence, mentions of past injury

A/N: Takes place during The Prisoner. There will probably be a follow up piece at some point. I need to decide which direction to go in first.

Masterlist

You had just set down your soldering iron, having almost finished with an incapacitated droid’s wiring, when a pre-Empire ship landed in the the docking bay. Was this the “old friend” Ran had mentioned with a suspiciously sly grin? Part of you hoped so. This guy was supposed to be your ticket out of here. At least... If everything goes according to plan.

Pulling off your gloves, you swiped away the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead before moving to the nearby lockers for your armor. Now that the esteemed guest was here, you might as well get ready. You didn’t have much armor-wise but it was enough to protect your chest and back. Being the newest member of the crew, they had not afforded you much to work with.

Now suited up, you attached your blaster to your hip and hid a vibroblade in your boot. When you turned back to face the ship, the ramp was down and Ran was walking vaguely in your direction with a Mandalorian at his side. Wait... A Mandalorian?! Ran had failed to mention that part.

They stopped by Mayfeld first for introductions with you being called over shortly after Mayfeld made his typically dumb comments. You offered a handshake to the Mandalorian while giving your name.

He hesitated momentarily before taking your hand in a solid grip. “Call me ‘Mando’.”

You nodded resolutely. Man of few words. You could work with that. It was certainly better than Mayfeld never shutting up.

Then, Burg found his way to your group, making mention of how he expected Mandalorians to be bigger. And finally there was Xi’an. She started in her typical psychotic fashion with one of her knives to Mando’s clothed throat. He didn’t even flinch having obviously already met, something else you had to learn on your own. Apparently, this Mando had run with Ran’s crew years ago. Just from this meeting, you wondered what changed. The current Mando just didn’t seem the type.

During the whole exchange, you kept quiet off to the side, trying not to roll your eyes or shake your head. Your “teammates” were being assholes again, and you wanted no part of it. Though Mando’s helmet faced the others, you could feel his gaze on you. Being a part of all of this... Yeah, he had no reason to trust you.

As the group meandered to the ship you now knew as the Razor Crest, you fell to the back and made yourself as small as possible so as not to attract their attention. Mando was the only one to notice, fading away from the crew to fall in line with you.

“What’s someone like you doing with them, Mesh’la?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Mesh’la? What does that word mean? You just shrugged, keeping your gaze straight ahead. Burg may have said he was small, but to you he was tall and imposing, especially when he was so close to your side. “I don’t have much choice. I owe them.”

His helmet tilted to the side, silently asking you to continue. Why does he care? Shaking your head, you sped up your gait and climbed the ramp.

Once your little rag-tag group plus the droid Zero settled aboard the ship, you took a moment to lean back on the wall and close your eyes. It was one of the ways you calmed your nerves. With Zero plugged into the system, Mando climbed down the cockpit, joining the rest of you in the hull. Then, the “fun” began.

“Let’s see your face, Mandalorian,” Burg started in along with Mayfeld.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing quietly but still with plenty of exasperation. This was Mando’s ship, and they had the nerve to harass him about his helmet. “Are we really doing this right now?” you muttered under your breath.

Xi’an called your name in a poisonously sweet tone, “Dear, keep your mouth shut.”

Guess she managed to hear you over all the noise. Maker, you really did not like her. She was always on your case about something, trying to make your life harder than necessary.

The boys continued egging Mando on, Burg going so far as to get physical to force the helmet off. In the scuffle, they managed to hit a button for a compartment in the far wall, causing it to swish open and reveal both the cutest and strangest little creature you had ever seen.

Mayfeld picked it up and held it out where you were able to get a better look. Its bright brown eyes enraptured you immediately, and stars, you wanted to pet those big ol’ ears. Its oversized robe that it was swaddled in tied together the whole aesthetic. It hadn’t even been five minutes, and you would give your life for this child.

Then, the former Empire lackey had to start screwing around. Mando visibly tensed underneath all that armor like he was ready to rip Mayfeld apart if anything happened to the kid. It was when he pretended he was going to drop the little one that you broke. Pushing yourself off the wall, you gently snatched the kid away into your arms, one hand holding his head protectively.

“Kriff, what is wrong with you?!” You tenderly stroked the child’s head. He happily cooed at you, reaching for your face. “You may be a merc, but there are lines that should not be crossed!”

The entirety of the hull was stunned into silence at your outburst, including yourself. You usually kept to yourself, only speaking when spoken to, but you were fuming now.

As you faced Mando to return the kid, Zero announced an immediate drop from hyperspace. Tousled and sent to the floor, you somehow swiveled yourself just enough to keep from squishing the child, landing hard on your shoulder blade. The Razor Crest violently docked on the prisoner ship, preventing you from sitting up to check on the kid. The instant the vibrations ceased, you found yourself being pulled up to your feet.

“Thanks, Mando.” Cute baby babbling attracted your attention. “You good, Little Green?”

He squeaked, pleased with his new nickname. His clawed fingers clutched your chest armor. Had you not been wearing your armor, he probably would have left little holes in your shirt with how tightly his claws clung to you. You gingerly pried him off, and passed him to Mando, earning you one solid nod. He placed the kid back in the sleeping compartment, safely shutting him inside when he was comfortable.

After making sure the hatch was correctly attached to the prisoner ship, Mando returned to your side. His stance made it clear he was not going first. That was Mayfeld’s job anyways. You usually were somewhere in the middle when it came to scoping out a new environment, so you stood by waiting for your turn. Once Burg was down, you started towards the hatch, but you were harshly shoved to the side and knocked into Mando.

“Oh, sorry, Sweetie. Didn’t see you there.” Xi’an’s lips curled into a predatory grin.

You gave her no reaction, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. You waited for her to disappear down the hatch before shaking your head with a sigh.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Mando muttered.

You shrugged with a light laugh. “People like her probably don’t want to.”

With that, you slid down the ladder.

Of course there had to be a shootout. Your group had run into a set of security droids, their fire pinning you down in the hall. Firing a couple of shots, you turned to Mando but only caught a glimpse of his cloak swishing around the corner. Kriff! Where’s he running off to?

It was only when he was completely out of sight that the others noticed, Mayfeld griping about him abandoning them. You continued shooting at the droids, not doing a very good job of aiming from your position. Cautiously poking your head out to get a better idea of where they were, you saw Mando standing proudly behind the droids. As though for dramatic effect, he paused before extending the blade to the knife he was holding. The way he did it with such confidence... Okay, kinda hot.

Stuck in a trance, you could only crouch there and watch as Mando radiated grace and power, slicing through the droids like a whirlwind. And you had to admit the unexpected flamethrower was a nice touch at the end. What other weapons did he have at his disposal?

With the droids out of the picture permanently, you gathered yourselves and made for the control room where a rather sad, unimpressive New Republic officer sat quivering. Mayfeld immediately teased and threatened the poor guy, though you were pretty sure he was more terrified of Mando’s presence than Mayfeld’s word vomiting. The officer held up a remote that could call in the authorities who would destroy the ship. Having had enough, Mando stepped in to calm the situation. However, your soft breath of relief was short lived. Mayfeld brandished his blasters, aiming them at the officer. Mando set his firearm’s sight on the ex-Imp who returned the favor.

“We don’t have time for this,” you scowled and raised your blaster at Mayfeld. “Let’s just get what we need and go!”

“You know, I liked you better when you didn’t speak,” he spat. “And what, you’re on his side now?”

Mando almost imperceptibly inched his way to place himself more in between you and Mayfeld.

“And I liked you since never. So there’s that,” you snarked, keeping your firearm trained on him. “Mando’s right. No one needs to die.”

You caught a glimpse of hope in the officer’s eyes that was immediately snuffed out with one of Xi’an’s throwing knives. No one appreciated that move, especially since it caused the remote had been accidentally activated. Finding the cell number, you all ran from the room and down the alarm-ridden halls, Burg using his raw strength to pummel and throw a couple of large, black droids housing heavy artillery along the way. Reaching the target’s cell was easy after that.

When the cell door opened, you did not expect to see a male Twi’lek. Then again, you didn’t know what you were expecting to begin with. Qin, as you quickly learned, was Xi’an’s brother and Mando’s former ally from when he worked for Ran. Before you had time to comprehend everything, Burg was shoving Mando into the cell. You reached out for his arm to pull him back out before it was too late, but wound up on the floor next to him.

Xi’an’s lips turned upwards into a sneer and peered at you through the opening in the door, making it clear she was the one you threw you in.

“Guess this is goodbye, Sweetie. Just so you know, I always hated you being around,” she hissed with a grin.

“Tch. At least the feeling is mutual,” you growled back and sat up. How did anyone put up with her?

Before running off, they shot a blaster into the cell. Mando pulled you underneath him, wrapping around you so his beskar could shield you both from the laser blast loudly bouncing off the walls. When the sound ceased, Mando lifted his head tentatively just to be sure the blast had dissipated. He lifted his weight off of you, and helped you to your feet.

“You alright, Mesh’la?” There was that word, again.

His hand lingered on your shoulder just a moment longer than it should.

You nodded with a frown. “Other than being pissed at those guys for locking us in here, I’m fine.”

A light squeeze to your shoulder and he released you, checking out the opening at the top of the door. He let out a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t much time to get back to the Razor Crest, and if you did manage to get out, you’d have to make it back before the others did. Things were not looking very good.

You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes to think. “This was supposed to be an unmanned vessel, right?”

Mando rotated on his heel to look at you. “Yes.”

“So then the droids are the ones who can open the doors.”

“Yes...”

His head snapped back to the door, hearing a droid marching down the hall. It was like he read your mind. You were about to ask him if he had anything that could trap a droid when a grappling wire shot out from his vambrace, wrapping around a security droid and dragging it to the door. He proceeded to drop the droid while keeping its dismembered arm which he used to open the door.

“Damn, you’re good.” You had to keep your jaw from dropping.

With a cocky head tilt, he ushered you out of the cell and back to the control room where Mando hit the right switches to close specific doors, splitting up the four mercenaries. Rats in a maze.

Burg was the first combatant. He had gotten to the control room where you and Mando ambushed him. While the win did go to you two, damn it hurt being slammed into the ground like that. After that, Mando had you head straight for the ship to take care of Zero while he focused on the others. Unfortunately for you, you ran into Qin just as you were about to climb the ladder.

“Aww, how cute. You abandoned your little Mandalorian to get out of here alive,” Qin cooed menacingly.

You whipped around with your blaster in hand, clicking the safety off. “If that’s what you want to think, fine.” Your lips pressed together in a fine line.

“Now, now, Sweetheart.” He kept coming towards you slowly as though trying to make himself seem docile. “How about this? You and me leave together. We live and you get whatever reward Ran has for you.”

“If you’re anything like your sister,” you scoffed, “then I’d be better off leaving you for dead here. Now stand down.”

He chuckled, “How can I stand down when I’m unarmed, Sweetheart?”

Hearing that pet name from his mouth made your skin crawl. You wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, but you’d never make it up the ladder in time nor would you be able to run past him. You could just shoot and he would never bother you again, but you really did not want to kill anyone. You had gone the past few years as a temp merc without having to commit such an act. Sure, you hurt people but you could never bring yourself to cross that line. It still made you sick just leaving a bruise on someone.

Qin could feel your reluctance and kept slinking closer. You needed to do something. If he made it within arms reach, he would attack and you could possibly lose your gun, your advantage, in the scuffle. While you were scrappy, your physical strength could be easily overpowered. Thankfully, you didn’t have to worry too much about that.

Mando rounded the corner silently (how in all that armor you will never know) and now had his blaster pressed against the back of Qin’s head.

“Unarmed but still a threat,” Mando snarled through his modulator.

Qin froze on the spot. “Mando... Good to see you, again...” He nervously laughed.

Mando did not say a word. He grabbed Qin by the arm, forcing him to turn around so his back was to you while being cuffed.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” Qin asked quietly.

“They got what they deserved.”

Back on the Razor Crest, you sat in the copilot seat to Mando’s left while Qin, who was not allowed out of anyone’s site, sat to the right. Just before Mando jumped into hyperspace, the child appeared next to you, tugging on your pants. He practically clambered up your leg to settle himself in your lap, much to Mando’s chagrin.

“Hey, Little Green,” you whispered, bouncing the cutie on your leg.

With hyperspace, came a comfortable silence. You were lucky Qin decided to keep his mouth shut. He was technically still a prisoner.

“I used to be a mechanic on Coruscant,” you started.

The pilot seat swiveled just enough for you to know Mando was listening, his helmet titled curiously.

“You wanted to know how I ended up on Ran’s crew, right?”

He nodded for you to continue. In the corner of your eye, you saw Qin pretending not to pay attention.

“Because Ran and his crew started up a shootout with a rival merc group, I was shot and bleeding out. He did help me but apparently saving my life after being the cause in the first place wasn’t a fair trade to him. I wasn’t in my right mind to argue...”

Qin just smirked knowingly. After getting to know Ran, it wasn’t uncommon for him to pull stunts like that. He always got what he wanted.

Mando turned to fully face you as you looked away to rub the little one’s ear who contentedly babbled and played with the fingers of your free hand.

“Is there any way out of the deal?”

You shrugged. “This was it. If I helped retrieve the target,” you paused to glare at Qin, “then Ran would consider the deal fulfilled.”

“Then, you’re done.”

You sighed heavily. “I hope so. Pretty sure he won’t be too happy about losing three members while only gaining one.”

A chuckle snuck through his modulator. “You let me worry about that, Mesh’la.”

Qin sauntered down the ramp first, happily greeting Ran. Mando followed shortly after, placing himself in front of you.

“Where are the others?” Ran frowned.

Mando straightened his stance more, if that were even possible. “No questions, right?”

“Right...” Ran’s gaze focused on you as he said your name. “Got some more droids that need fixing.”

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to not grind your teeth. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Yeah, well you lost crew members.”

Mando shifted to block Ran’s view. “The target has been retrieved and delivered. The deal is complete.”

He definitively turned his back on Ran, his cloak flourishing behind him. It had a very “I have spoken” vibe. Mando nodded for you to return to the ship. You registered Ran folding his arms like he was angrily pouting before walking off with Qin.

Back in the cockpit, the kid crawled his way back into your lap during take off.

Mando tilted his helmet in your direction. “Was there anything of importance to you on the station?”

“No... All I have are the clothes on my back.”

“Good.”

That was when the X-Wings dropped in and fired at the merc station, explosions lighting up the area.

“You brought that remote with you...”

Mando hummed in response.

“Nice.”

The Razor Crest jumped into hyperspace and fell into another contemplative silence. Now you could appreciate the way the blue and white lights whizzing past reflected off Mando’s beskar. It was almost ethereal. As if on queue, he spun the pilot’s seat around.

“So. Need a job?”

You smirked lopsidedly as the child took one of your fingers in his tiny hands. “Why? You got any openings?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #baby yoda #grogu #xi'an #mayfeld #migs mayfeld #burg #zero #qin

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sxypigeon · 6 years ago

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Part 4: Pharmercy Beginnings

A/N: The last chapter of my pre-recall Pharmercy story.

After the fall of Overwatch, Dr. Ziegler spends her time traveling the world helping people, occasionally with the help of Helix and Fareeha Amari. Nosy coworkers try their best to bring the two together, but as the doctor is called away, Talon plots . . .

Part 1 warnings: none, just sarcasm and fluff

Part 2 warnings: attempted assault, violence

Part 3 warnings: none, more fluff

Part 4 warnings: assassinations, NSFW, cough-sex-cough

Fareeha took a sip of her tea as she adjusted the volume of her headphones. A twenty year old version of Angela flashed a shy smile as the auditorium’s applause died down during her first TED talk.

[Before I begin, I have a bit of a confession to make. I’ve been asked at least five times over the last two years to give a TED talk, but up until now I’ve been able come up with reasonable excuses to decline: I’m too busy working or researching, I don’t know what country I’ll be in four days from now, I hate public speaking - please don’t make me do it.]

The soldier smiled. While the doctor did hate speaking in front of crowds, she was proficient at it even then.

[I’m here today because I finally ran out excuses . . . and because my mentor threaten to confiscate the coffee maker from my office if I didn’t.

[My name is Angela Ziegler, I’m a surgeon and researcher at Universitätsspital Zürich. In my spare time, I act as a field medic on humanitarian missions with the UN’s peacekeeping organisation Overwatch and I’m here tonight to talk about myself and my research into nanotechnology.]

The doctor took a moment to sip from a bottle of water before continuing.

[Before I get into that, I feel like I should address the comments I get most often whenever I tell someone I’m a doctor - ‘Really? You don’t look old enough to be a doctor. What’s your skincare routine?’]

And she still gets those comments, Fareeha thought with a grin.

[There’s a reason for that - I earned my doctorate in Biomedical Engineering before I was able to legally celebrate my accomplishment with a pint or glass of wine. To put that in better context for those living outside of Switzerland, our drinking age for less potent alcohols is sixteen.]

Younger Angela paused her slow walk across the stage with a soft smirk as the room broke out in quiet muttering.

[By seventeen, I finished medical school and had started my residency, that was the same year I submitted my first proposal to the European Medicines Agency to begin clinical trials for treating heart disease using nanotechnology.]

The doctor clicked a button on the small remote in her hand and a picture of her with her team in Switzerland appeared on the large screen above her.

[That was taken on the first day of human testing, almost three years ago. That was a very roundabout way of saying I’m currently a few months shy of my twenty-first birthday. So yes, I am quite young.]

Fareeha paused the video and put her laptop on the coffee table in front of the large sofa she’d been laying across. Quietly, she trekked across the expansive living area and informal dining room before opening the door to Angela’s room just enough to poke her head through. The doctor was still asleep on her stomach with her hair brushed off her face by the soldier. Angela had collapsed into bed after nonchalantly stripping down to her underwear in front of her. She was so tired, I doubt she realized what she was doing. . . or she was messing with me again. Both are equally likely. She closed the door and retreated back to the living room.

They made it to Angela’s apartment nearly an hour ago after fighting through a sea of reporters and dignitaries at the airport. Fareeha wanted to punch every last one of them in the face . . . many, many times. Couldn’t they see the doctor was exhausted? Didn’t they see the way she grimaced at their camera flashes and shouted questions?

The captain rolled her shoulders and continued walking through the penthouse apartment restlessly. Over twenty-four hours of non-stop tension was difficult to relax after, especially when what she really wanted to do was pull the doctor into her arms and hold her while she slept. She’s already asleep . . . she doesn’t need me.

The lingering anger about the whole ordeal her best friend endured didn’t help her state of mind either. I need to hit something, she thought as she headed towards the small exercise room.

“None of this makes any sense!” Nayef shouted as he pulled at his thick hair.

His father frowned at the younger man’s lack of self control, But perhaps Talon is partly to blame for that. “Calm yourself, boy. The situation is being dealt with.”

“But I would never attack anyone like they’re saying I did! And somehow there’s fucking video of it!” He let his hands fall from his hair to his face, one hand over his mouth as he watched the airport assault video on his phone.

“Put that away. I told you, the situation is being handled.”

“How?! How could this be spun any way but how it looks?!”

“That’s enough,” the older man growled quietly. His son immediately quieted his protests. “Turn your phone off and go play one of your games. The situation is being handled.”

The young man frowned at being dismissed like a child, but obeyed and left the room.

Ogundimu had better clean up this mess, he thought as readied himself for the Talon operative’s pending call.

[Your highness, good evening,] the smooth, slightly accented voice on the other end of the video call greeted.

“Ogundimu, you said this plan was fool-proof. Instead, my brother lives, my son is being hounded as a rapist on the web, and I have three dozen different countries threatening tariffs on the Kingdom over this debacle. What are you going to do about it?” the acting-king asked quietly, barely keeping his anger under control.

[How is your son?]

“Fine, don’t change the subject.”

[I have a team working on damage control. We also need to ensure the safety of you and your son-]

“I’ll take care of that,” he said shortly. “After the mess you and your people created, I think I’ll rely on my own people.”

[If you believe that’s for the best then I won’t push the matter. For now it’s important to remember this is only a setback. Our goals can still be-]

“Save your pandering for the gullible, Ogundimu. I am already suspected by my brother. If he doesn’t arrest me, I’ll surely be exiled. I took a risk trusting you and now I’m paying the price. Don’t contact me again unless you have a way to fix this.”

With that, the acting king disconnected the call.

Ogundimu glared at the screen for a moment before coming to a decision. “Sombra, Lacroix. I have a mission for you both.”

Sombra grinned and looked to the sniper who was lazily filing her nails in front of a 24 hour news channel on one of the many monitors in the large room. “I was beginning to wonder why we brought her with,” the hacker mused.

“To keep an eye on you, ma chérie,” Widowmaker said flatly as she rose slowly and approached.

It was the smell of her bed sheets that pulled Angela from her slumber twelve hours later - not because of how they smelled, but because of what they were missing. Why don’t these smell of bleach? she wondered drowsily. Oh, I’m not at the hospital or the refugee camp.

She rolled onto her side and groped for her phone and turned it on. So many messages . . . I can’t deal with this now.

Sitting up proved to be a monumental task - dizziness assailed her strong enough to force her back down onto the bed. Low blood sugar. I still have chocolate in the night stand, right? A clumsy hand opened the drawer and found a small vibrator and a bottle of lubricant, lip balm, moisturizer, a spare phone charger, and finally a few pieces of individually wrapped dark chocolates at the very back. Verdammt, that’s good for being in there for over a year, she thought as the candy melted in her mouth.

Blood sugar better regulated, she finally sat up and took stock of her injuries. Ribs seem fine. She removed the brace from her right hand and wiggled her fingers. Good as new, though a little stiff. She felt the bridge of her nose and gave a wide yawn. No permanent damage. And I just assume the concussion has resolved itself. I need some real food . . . and coffee. A lot of coffee . . . especially if I’m going to make a dent in these messages today.

As she steam from the shower filled the bathroom, Angela tried not to dwell on how wonderful it had felt having Fareeha lather up her hair. You have no excuse to ask for her help this time. Just hurry up and wash . . . and maybe later you can return the favor later, she thought as she stripped and stepped under the water.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a Universitätsspital Zürich hoodie and yoga pants, she wandered out of her room in search of sustenance.

“Ange?”

Warmth blossomed deep in her chest as she spotted warm eyes peering over the back of the couch. “Fareeha, what are you doing up? It’s not even dawn yet!” Angela laughed as the soldier practically vaulted over the sofa before carefully enveloping the blonde in a tender embrace. “My injures have healed,” Angela muttered into her clavicle. “I’m not made of glass.”

“Oh, well in that case-” Fareeha squeezed the doctor tight enough to force a bit of the air from her lungs.

“O-okay, I’m rethinking that last statement,” she groaned with a chuckle. Angela pulled back enough to see the captain’s smiling face.

“You look better, Ange. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she admitted, “and a bit tired still. Have you slept?”

Fareeha rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Probably not enough though. I’m still on Indian time, I guess.”

“Well, I’ve ordered enough food from the kitchen to put one person into a food coma and I can always order more.”

“I’m fine. I’m just happy you’re feeling better,” she said softly as she brushed a loose strand of damp hair behind Angela’s ear.

The warmth shifted to the pit of her stomach as calloused fingers brushed her neck. If only I hadn’t just burned through more than three thousand calories healing broken bones . . . Eat first, eat her out after. “I have you to thank for some of that. Knowing you were around definitely allowed me to rest easier.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Angela muttered softly as she cupped the side of Fareeha’s jaw and guided her lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, but a lingering one - one that left Angela wondering just how badly she needed to eat and if she could put it off for an hour or three.

“You need to eat,” Fareeha whispered against her lips.

“I know,” she said simply before she pulled her back in for another kiss. The embers in her gut were quickly stoked into a growing fire as she pulled herself flush against the soldier. I shouldn’t be doing this. I need to-

Angela’s stomach suddenly gave what was probably the loudest rumble she’d ever remembered hearing.

Fareeha pulled back enough to chuckle, “I think we need to save this for later.”

“Verdammt.” As if on cue, the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of the food. “I suppose you’re right.”

[Web is set. Happy hunting, Madame Araignée.]

Lacroix rolled her eyes before watching the younger al Saud’s limousine navigate the city courtesy of Sombra’s tracker. Coming home after a late night clubbing. You should have listened to your father and stayed home, Nayef.

Fareeha was pretty sure she was in love. Technically she had been for years, but watching Angela put away an enormous amount of sausage, bread, and yogurt cemented the feeling.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” the doctor asked as she paused long enough to sip her coffee.

“I don’t want to deprive you of what you are very clearly enjoying.”

Angela’s cheeks darkened a shade. “It’s been . . . nine months? Yes, that sounds right. Nine months since I’ve been home and had Swiss food. I didn’t realize I missed it so much. . . . That and I was quite literally starving when I woke up. Here, have some röschti-”

“Only if I can pour maple syrup on it,” she chuckled as she took the plate of potato pancakes.

“I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

Omar kept a silent watch on the troubled young man in the back of the limousine. Prince Nayef was uncharacteristically quiet tonight. Usually after a night out like tonight he would regale the driver and his security team with tales his exploits, but not tonight it seemed.

The Omar came to a stop at the intersection and peered back at his passenger. “Would you like to stop for an early morning snack, sir?” he asked.

The prince jerked out of his thoughts and shook his head. “No, just take me home.”

“Yes, sir.” He glanced in the rearview mirror once more before moving forward. He hasn’t been himself since that business with the doctor. How all of that was fabricated is beyond me, but I know Nayef. He may bed many women, but he isn’t the type to attack a woman.

The streets were quiet in the predawn darkness. So much so that Omar almost thought he imaged the sound of breaking glass and the splatter of liquid. Omnic eyes jumped to the rear view mirror; he saw Nayef slumped to the side, a quarter of his skull and brain tissue plastered the left window.

[Breaking news: Prince Nayef al Saud, subject of international outrage for his alleged attack on humanitarian Dr. Angela Ziegler, was assassinated this morning in Riyadh while returning home from the city center.]

Angela jerked her head up to the television screen and felt her jaw drop. She and Fareeha had settled on the sofa in the living room after breakfast to allow the doctor to work on the numerous messages and updates on King Azid populating her phone. “What?”

[Sources say the prince was traveling back to the royal palace in a limousine when a single bullet struck him in the head, killing him instantly.]

“Shit,” Fareeha muttered.

Angela stared at the screen in shock. Mixed feelings fought for dominance in her still exhausted mind: horror that he was murdered, sadness for his family, and - though she’d never admit it to anyone - relief the man was gone from the world. “But why?”

Fareeha tore her eyes from the screen and looked to the stricken doctor. She wrapped an arm around Angela and pulled her close. “I don’t know, Ange.”

Silence fell between them as the news report rambled on. “What if this was Talon?” Angela asked quietly after a while.

“What do you mean?”

“What if-” she started before pausing to gather her thoughts. “What if this is Talon covering their tracks? What if Nayef was just a pawn? It already looks like Dr. O’Deorain had a hand in the assassination attempt on the king - what if she or someone else in Talon got to Nayef? His pupils were massively constricted each time he attacked me - what if Talon . . . brainwashed him or drugged him or I don’t know, did something to force him to attack me?”

“You think he was innocent in all of this?” Fareeha asked a bit incredulously.

“I’m saying none of this makes sense. There was definitely corruption at the police station and with the secret police, but why Nayef targeted me still doesn’t make sense. Why were he and his friends in India in the first place? You said it yourself, that without me, the king’s surgery couldn’t have been done without removing the rogue nanobots. I’m not saying I’m the only person in the world that would have recognized the symptoms, but there certainly aren’t many that would and even fewer that could figure out how to remove them.”

The captain let the argument bounce around her mind for a moment. “But you fought him and his friends off. Talon thought three large men could easily overpower you - render you physically and mentally unable to help the king. Holy shit,” she muttered quietly. “If-”

“If they had finished their job, the king would be dead by now,” Angela finished softly. “And now that their mission has failed, they’re covering their tracks. I just wonder if they’ll target the acting king. Perhaps killing his son was a message.”

“Keep quiet or you’ll be next?”

“Something like that.”

The acting king stared stoically at his laptop. Every fifteen minutes, aids would update him on the investigation, but he merely nodded and sent them away. He already knew who was responsible - what he didn’t know is what to do about it.

“Sir, there is no new information at this time,” the latest aid muttered regretfully.

He shooed him away with a flick of his wrist. Do I call Ogundimu? Will he admit to it? Should I tell the Mabahith? If I admit to having ties to Talon, I’ll be signing my own death warrant.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Fareeha asked as Angela set up her webcam.

“Every major news site is asking for a statement and my lawyers seem to think it would be a good idea as well.” She smiled as video of herself popped up on the screen. “Are you sure you don’t want to be in it?”

“Completely,” the soldier said from across the room.

Angela rolled her eyes before beginning to record. “Guten Morgen, as promised, an update since leaving Saudi Arabia. I’m finally home and recovering, though I admit the news I woke to this morning is incredibly worrisome. I’d like to extend my condolences to the Saudi royal family - regardless of what happened in the last forty-eight hours, murder is never an acceptable course of action. I’m as anxious as the rest of the world to know the outcome of the investigation.”

Angela paused and sipped her coffee, “Since arriving home I’ve slept twelve hours and allowed my injuries to heal. I’ve eaten enough for at least three people since waking, so hopefully I’ll be able to return to work soon. For now, I plan to spend the next few days relaxing and trying to process everything that’s happened.”

“There are many people I need to thank for their help and understanding through this whole ordeal: the staff at the Royal Hospital in Riyadh, my colleague from Universitätsspital Zürich who performed the necessary surgery I couldn’t because of my injuries, and Helix Security for protection and piece of mind once I left police custody.”

Another sip of coffee, this time turning the mug to display the text “Self Medicating” to the camera. “That’s all for now. Stay safe and when in doubt, ask your doctor.”

Slow inhale, slower exhale - There you are, Widowmaker thought as she lined up her shot. “Magnifique,” she whispered as the body fell to the ground. “Widowmaker here. Mission accomplished. Are there further instructions?”

[Hold position for now. There is a possibility of a fourth target. Position yourself within range of the royal palace,] Ogundimu responded.

[Uh, boss - we just took out the acting king’s son and his friends,] Sombra pointed out tensely. [Define within range of the royal palace.]

[Just don’t leave town,] he replied shortly.

“Very well,” Lacroix replied before Sombra could further annoy the man. I suppose one more wouldn’t hurt.

Fareeha sat down next to the pensive doctor, “Are you okay?”

Angela set her mug on the coffee table and leaned against the soldier, “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed the other woman’s warmth as Fareeha wrapped an arm around her shoulders. So much had happened in the last two days, little of which she was prepared to deal with.

I have a beautiful woman in my apartment I’ve been fantasizing about for longer than I care to admit - I should do something with that. She pulled away from the embrace enough to stare up into Fareeha’s curious eyes. We should really talk about what this is . . . Angela raised her hand and let her fingertips ghost over the other woman’s skin before cupping her check. . . . but I didn’t get where I am today without taking risks, she thought as she licked her lips and met Fareeha halfway for the kiss.

It was tender, too tender to be honest. As Angela threaded her fingers through the younger woman’s hair, she considered falling back against the length of the couch and pulling Fareeha on top of her, but impatience won out. I need to get us on the same page.

She broke the kiss and smiled at the confused look Fareeha gave her before straddling the soldier’s lap. “If it’s not too much to ask,” Angela purred as she removed her hoodie, “I would appreciate something a bit more blunt.”

Fareeha stared up at her, pupils dilating as she licked her lips. “Like this?” she asked hesitantly as she placed her hands on Angela’s hips.

A soft chuckle escaped the doctor. “I was thinking something more like-,” she paused and moved Fareeha’s hands to her ass, “this.”

“Oh,” she muttered before grinning devilishly. “So like this?” Fareeha asked before gripping Angela’s cheeks and bringing the doctor’s hips flush with the soldier’s abdomen, making sure to prolong the grind of Angela’s core. “Am I doing this right?” Fareeha asked in a husky voice.

Angela’s groan started deep in her chest as her eyes rolled back briefly. “Ja, just like that.” She widened her knees and settled low enough in Fareeha’s lap to continue their kiss. Whatever hesitation the soldier had before was completely gone as she quickly sought out the doctor’s tongue with her own. Angela was so lost in the sensation, she hadn’t noticed one of Fareeha’s hands following the curve of her bum lower until the soldier found a different set of lips.

A jolt of pleasure forced Angela’s hips forward as her breathing quickened. “Fuck,” she whimpered as Fareeha slowly rubbed her opening through her yoga pants.

“Still to your liking, Doctor?”

“That’s Frau Doktor to you,” she choked out as her hips began a slight rhythm.

“Hm, I’ll take that as a ‘ja,’ Frau Doktor,” Fareeha chuckled as she pressed a bit further between her lips.

Breath fled Angela’s lungs as she leaned forward against Fareeha’s chest. Her mind clouded with lust as the soldier continued her steady assault on the doctor’s core, a strong hand helping exaggerate every thrust of Angela’s hips.

“Let me know when you want more, Ange-”

“Yes! I mean- Verdammt!” Angela groaned into her ear. “Please, more.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fareeha’s warm hands disappeared for a moment before slipping down the back of the doctor’s tight fitting pants. It feels like her fingers are scorching my skin, Angela thought with a whimper of desire. When was the last time someone touched me like this?

Soft lips attached to the side of Angela’s neck as Fareeha found the slick warmth between her thighs. Teeth nibbled gently as fingers circled and toyed with her entrance, but never dipped inside. I need- I need more, but I- I don’t want this to end.

“Liebling, please have mercy,” Angela begged breathlessly.

The soldier chuckled lightly into her neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, habibti.”

Warmth blossomed in her chest and a ripple of pleasure travelled up her spine at Fareeha’s teasing. “Reeha, I’m not going to last much longer. . . I need you inside of me,” she groaned.

“Hm, I suppose I could be merciful,” the younger woman muttered as her first two fingers slipped inside the doctor to the first knuckle.

It wasn’t much, far less than Angela thought she’d get, but that small amount of penetration was enough start her walls fluttering. Her jaw dropped open as her chest heaved, leaning back to grind more firmly against Fareeha’s abdomen. A third finger slipped in and deeper as a spasm of more intense pleasure caused her to lose her rhythm briefly, before Fareeha took over and guided the doctor’s hips. Eyes rolled back as breaths became high-pitched gasps. Her hands clenching the soldier’s shoulders were the only thing grounding Angela as pleasure overwhelmed her. Wave after wave quickly reduced her to a shaking, quivering mess.

“Are you okay?” Fareeha asked softly once the older woman’s hips finally stilled.

With a fair bit of effort, Angela opened her eyes and met Fareeha’s. The soldier’s pupils were blown and her face flushed - both of which the doctor took note of before the slightly smug smile on the younger woman’s face. “I’m lovely,” she purred as she purposely clenched around the fingers still inside of her, “but I think we should continue this in my bedroom.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened slightly as her smile grew. “Lead the way,” she said as she slipped her fingers from the doctor.

Angela stood on shaky legs, but took Fareeha’s hand and pulled her along a bit impatiently. “I wonder if I can make you scream,” she mused as she opened the door.

In a surprisingly short amount of time later, with Angela nestled between the soldier’s thighs, Fareeha would learn the answer was definitely yes.

It’s better this way, the former acting king thought as he was led away by the Mabahith. My silence will save the rest of my family. Better to lose only one son than all of them.

[We’re in the clear. Our friend is pleading ignorance about everything,] Sombra’s voice said over the communicator. [He seems to have gotten the message.]

[Good, return to base,] Ogundimu responded.

[Race you to the transport, Spider?]

“I know you’re already there, Sombra” Lacroix said drily as she collapsed her rifle. Below, the limousine carrying what would have been her fourth target drove out of her line of sight.

“Are you sure about that?”

The sniper whipped around to find the hacker sitting cross-legged on top of an air-intake vent. “It’s not like you to suggest a fair competition.”

Sombra clutched her chest theatrically. “That hurts, amiga.”

“Oh, my apologies,” she said with an eye roll. With her kit packed, Widowmaker glanced back at the younger woman. “See you at the transport,” she said with a small grin before grappling to the next building.

[You cheating pendejo!]

Fareeha sighed contently as she spooned against the sleeping doctor. She’d lost track of how many fantasies she’d fulfilled this morning, but the one she was enjoying at the moment - post-coital cuddling with Angela - was the one the filled her chest with the most warmth and finally dispelled the lingering longing she’d felt ever since she first realized she loved the doctor all those years ago. Fifteen years later - it’s like no time has passed at all, she mused as she traced random patterns on Angela’s hip and stomach.

“That tickles,” the doctor muttered, voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Fareeha whispered before kissing behind her ear.

“Hmm,” she hummed happily. “What’s keeping you up?”

“It’s nothing,” Fareeha said without thinking. Angela’s skeptical hum made the soldier reconsider the question. “I guess . . . part of me is still waiting to wake up and this all to have been a dream.”

Angela rolled over to face Fareeha and propped herself up on an elbow. She smiled softly before ducking down to capture Fareeha’s lips in a slow, but deep kiss.

Just as she was beginning to think the doctor was looking for more, the soldier felt a sharp pinch above her hip. Her startled yelp caused Angela to fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. “Seriously?!”

“Well, you know you’re not dreaming now, right?” she chuckled.

“You’re ridiculous,” Fareeha muttered grumpily as she snuggled against Angela’s side.

“Liebling, I’m sorry,” the doctor said soothingly. “Can I make a confession?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember your graduation from basic training?”

“When my mother purposely scheduled herself a mission so she wouldn’t be able to attend? Yeah, I remember.”

“I remember going with Jesse and Reinhardt and Reyes,” Angela said patiently. “When you and the other graduates were presented I remember thinking to myself, Verdammt! She’s not supposed to look that good in a uniform!”

“Really?” Fareeha asked sceptically.

“Ja, you had filled out during training. You weren’t a beanpole anymore - you radiated self confidence and with good reason. I think you were top of your class in nearly every category. I was caught more than a few times by Jesse leering that day - and once he figured out why, he promptly told Reinhardt and Reyes.”

“So when they all kept accidentally pushing you into me all day after the ceremony, it wasn’t necessarily because they knew I liked you-”

“That was probably part of it, but they were quite amused by my epiphany about your physical appearance.”

Fareeha grinned for a moment before another question begged to be answered. “If we both found the other attractive back then - wait, you did know I-”

“Liebling, I daresay the entire watchpoint knew.”

“Right . . . Why are we only doing something about it now?”

Angela didn’t say anything for a while, but carded her fingers through the younger woman’s hair. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“I did,” Angela admitted. “I guess I was afraid I couldn’t be the person you needed me to be - I was actually fairly certain I couldn’t. . . I hoped you’d find someone who could be there for you whenever you needed, someone who wasn’t hundreds of kilometers away and too busy to even consider trying to have a relationship.”

“And now?” Fareeha asked quietly.

“I suppose we’re going to have to try this long distance relationship thing people keep telling me is entirely doable.”

Fareeha chuckled softly. “It helps to have realistic expectations going into it.”

“Like what?”

“Like how often we’ll be able to see each other and how often we should call.”

“So seeing each other more than three time a year outside of work?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds like something we should figure out after a nap,” Angela muttered through a yawn.

“Fine, as long as we figure it out eventually,” Fareeha said softly before rolling the doctor towards her onto her side. “Get some sleep, Ange,” she whispered as the doctor burrowed under Fareeha’s chin.

Later that evening, Angela sat on her patio overlooking the city, staring at the unlit cigarette between her fingers. Slowly and deliberately, she slipped it back in the half-empty pack and placed it by the unused ashtray.

A gentle smile spread across Fareeha’s face ten minutes later when she stepped outside to check on the doctor. Eyes closed and breathing deeply, Angela was meditating, her cigarettes long forgotten. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Finally,” she teased as she unfolded her legs and grabbed pack and lighter.

“Quitting alreading?” Fareeha asked as the doctor led the way back inside.

Angela shrugged as she tossed the cigarettes in kitchen garbage. “I wanted to be able to taste your meal.”

“I’m honored.”

Nightmares, flashes of intense anxiety, and nicotine withdrawal peppered Angela’s week of recovery, but with Fareeha nearby to provide support, the doctor’s mental state quickly improved. Endless affection, home-cooked meals, and meditation seemed to be just what Angela needed . . . that and sex.

“I’ve always wanted to take you like this,” Angela admitted with a grin as she slipped the slippery toy between Fareeha’s folds. “The strong and stoic soldier on her hands and knees . . .” she slid the dildo along the younger woman’s clit and entrance, “getting thoroughly fucked by a much smaller woman.” Fareeha’s low moan had Angela grinning widely until the vibrator inside herself sprang to life.

“Don’t get too cocky, Frau Doktor,” the captain chuckled. “You gave me this remote, but you didn’t say how I should use it.”

Angela let out the shaky breath she’d been holding as she adjusted to the weak stimulation. “I have complete confidence in your intuition - it’s gotten us this far.”

“So if I were to suddenly crank it to max-”

The doctor’s hips jerked forward violently as she tensed up before Fareeha dropped the intensity back to the lowest setting in a fit of sniggering giggles.

Angela pulled herself off the soldier and slapped her ass just hard enough to sting. “Liebling, I have no problem teasing you until you beg,” she said in a menacing voice.

Fareeha hoped the doctor hadn’t noticed the way her hips jerked impatiently at the slap. “Is that a threat or a challenge?”

The blonde’s soft laughter should have been warning enough, “Oh, Fareeha. For you, it is a promise.” The harnessed toy was back between the soldier’s folds, sliding in long strokes. “Tell me, liebling, is there a certain type of pain that arouses you or will anything do?”

Shit, Fareeha thought. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered.

“Oh? So this,” she used her free hand to scratch up along the back of Fareeha’s thigh, “does nothing for you?”

“Nope,” the soldier groaned in a strangled voice.

“Hm, how about this?”

Blunt nails trailed firmly from between her shoulder blades to the small of her back. “If it does something for you, than feel free to continue,” Fareeha panted.

“I am enjoying watching you squirm-” Angela tried to say before the vibrations inside her intensified. “Retaliation?” she moaned.

“I just don’t want you to get bored.” Fareeha tried to take calming breaths while Angela was distracted, but with the toy’s constant simulation of her clit and entrance, she didn’t accomplish much. “Too much, Ange?”

“I was about to ask you the same,” she chuckled breathlessly. “Do you want me inside you, yet?”

Fareeha bit her lip, “Does it count as begging?”

“I suppose not, since I brought it up.” The toy stopped at the younger woman’s entrance.

“Yeah.” The head of the toy slowly pushed inside just enough to stretch slightly before withdrawing. At first Fareeha thought the doctor was going slowly to avoid hurting her, but after the fifth stroke with only the bell-shaped head of the toy entering her, she began to have her doubts. “Ange?”

“Yes, liebling?”

“You can go deeper, you know?”

“I could.”

Fareeha sighed and fought the urge to bring her hand between her legs and rub her clit for more stimulation. “Do you need encouragement?”

“What do you have in-” Her breath caught in her chest as the doctor jerk forward with an increase to the vibrations inside her. “Impatient, aren’t we?” she moaned.

The toy now half sheathed inside Fareeha, the soldier smiled and pushed herself back against Angela to bring it deeper. “I’m not ready to beg yet.”

“Then I need to try harder.” The blonde bent over Fareeha and slipped her fingers on either side of her clit. “I have another question for you, liebling.”

“Yeah?” The doctor’s long and frustratingly slow thrusts were testing her patience.

“I told you I’ve thought about taking you like this. Have you thought about this, too? Or have you imagined yourself in control?” Her fingers began moving in gentle circles over the sensitive bud.

If Fareeha’s face hadn’t already been flushed from arousal, it would have been now. A decade and a half of fantasies - of course I’ve thought of nearly this exact situation . . . but I’ve also thought of another, more erotic one. “I’ve thought about both,” she admitted, “but I’m particularly fond of one . . . where I take you from behind.”

Angela’s soft chuckle filled the air and sped up her thrusts just a bit. “I’m not surprised.”

“The thought of thrusting into your perfect ass . . . while I’m three fingers deep in you has gotten me a off more than a few times,” Fareeha panted.

Angela froze in surprise and bent further over the soldier, muttering obscenities in multiple languages as she tried to temper her excitement.

“Need some help?” Fareeha asked with a smug smile.

Deep, shaking breaths seemed to be doing little to help the doctor. “You’re looking for something a bit harder and faster, right?” she whimpered.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Good.” The nails on the hand gripping Fareeha’s hip bit into skin as Angela’s hips drew back before quickly meeting her hips. “Harder?”

“If you can handle it,” the soldier said with a grin.

A low growl was the doctor response as she slammed their hips together, the fingers on Fareeha’s clit working a bit firmer and faster.

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Fareeha groaned as she met each of Angela’s thrusts. “Just like that.” She heard the doctor give a soft moan. “You’re perfect - don’t stop.” The thrusting sped up a tic with Angela’s breathing. “I’m so close-” Her walls fluttered around the toy. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned. Just as Fareeha was about to fall into a more intense orgasm, Angela pulled back. “What-” A sharp slap to her ass sent her body spiraling into pleasure. She was vaguely aware of the doctor continuing to thrust roughly into her, extending the orgasm before remembering the remote to Angela’s vibrator. She quickly maxed it out.

“Gott!” the doctor choked as she buried the cock as deep as it could go. Short, quick thrusts rapidly drove her over the edge at last - the constant simulation of the vibrator prolonged the feeling, leaving Angela gasping for breath.

“Liebling, please,” she whimpered tiredly. “Enough.”

“Oh, right,” Fareeha muttered as she fumbled with the remote. With the vibrations halted, Angela collapsed forward onto the soldier’s back. “Are you okay?”

“Ja, tired,” she mumbled.

Carefully, Fareeha lowered herself onto her stomach while balancing the doctor on top of her. “If you pull out of me, I can help you out of the harness.”

“Who says I’m done with you yet?” she muttered with a small fit of giggles.

“You do,” Fareeha sighed with a smile. “You get very giggly when drunk or exhausted. I’m pretty sure you’re too far gone for round two.”

“Fine.” Clumsily, Angela pulled away before flopping onto her back on the bed beside Fareeha.

About poke at the doctor’s lack of grace, Fareeha’s words died in her throat as she watched the pink silicone cock bounce side-to-side.

The soldier’s snort of laughter forced Angela to open her tired eyes. “What?”

Using a single finger, Fareeha pulled the tip of the dildo towards her before letting it go, causing it to bounce violently.

“Seriously, liebling?”

“What? It’s hilarious! Physical comedy is the best type of comedy!”

“Not your silly puns?”

“They are pretty good, but come on. Are you telling me you don’t find that even remotely amusing?”

Angela gave her hips a shake and watched the toy wiggle. “Okay, it’s a little funny.”

“I knew it,” Fareeha muttered with a grin as she loosened the straps around the doctor’s thighs. “Did it live up to your expectations?” she asked tapping the cock.

“I didn’t make you beg,” Angela pouted lightly. “I suppose that means we’ll have to try it again . . . or perhaps I should let you have a turn with it. You seem to have put some thought into your fantasy.”

Fareeha felt her face warm considerably as she pulled the harness down the doctor’s legs. “Only if you’re up for it.” She crawled back up Angela’s body and settled on top of her. “What do you want?” she muttered against her lips before kissing her gently.

“You.” Warm arms wrapped around Fareeha as the kiss deepened. Hips and legs shifted until they both had a thigh to grind against. Breaths came hot and heavy as Angela’s nails scratched down the soldier’s back to her bum. Moans filled the air as their movements took on a near frantic pace. Fareeha hit her high first, breaking the kiss and groaning into the doctor’s shoulder.

“Do you need help?” Fareeha asked after a moment, slipping her hand between them.

Angela nodded impatiently, hips still grinding on Fareeha’s thigh. Light, rapid circles over the bundle of nerves between the doctor’s lips stilled her hips as her back arched off the bed.

Fareeha propped herself up higher to give Angela more freedom of movement . . . and to watch the doctor tease one of her own nipples. Lower lip between her teeth, Angela was close and with her breasts arched up the way they were, Fareeha felt it would be a crime not to give the ignored one the attention it deserved.

“Aaaah!” Angela groaned as Fareeha’s teeth nibbled lightly on her nipple. It was enough to start tremors of pleasure radiating from her pelvis. Several vocal moments later, Angela finally collapsed back onto the bed.

“Better?” Fareeha chuckled as she pulled the doctor into arms.

“Too far gone for round two,” she muttered with a sleepy laugh.

“You proved me wrong, habibti.” Fareeha admitted warmly. “Let’s get some rest.” She pulled the sheets over them and let sleep begin to relax her mind and body.

“Verdammt!”

“What’s wrong?” Fareeha muttered in confusion as Angela wriggled out of her arms.

“The vibrator.” she huffed in annoyance as she shuffled towards the bathroom.

“Wha- Oh.” A fit of giggles over took the soldier.

Angela turned back and glared, “You should probably get up, too. I don’t want you getting a UTI with two days of our time off remaining.”

Fareeha sighed, “Ja, Frau Doktor,” as she headed toward the guest bathroom.

Dinner with Dr. Muller was enjoyable and largely uneventful until dessert.

“Angie.”

“Hm?” she hummed as she took another bite of tiramisu.

“That’s my leg, not the captain’s.”

“Verdammt!” she whispered as her face went scarlet before burying it in her hands. “Lars, I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled and patted her back fatherly. “I suppose it’s my fault for talking up so much space under such a small table. Have you two been playing footsie through the entire meal?”

Fareeha was barely holding in her laughter as she looked to the younger doctor.

“Maybe,” Angela admitted as she dropped her hands.

“Mein Gott - does that mean you’re finally dating?”

Angela looked shyly at Fareeha before nodding.

“Good for you! It’s about time, too.”

“Lars!”

“What?” he chuckled. “How many times have you told me you’re too busy for a relationship over the years? This means Captain Amari can take over the job of worrying about you.”

“Are you really capable of not worrying about me, Lars?”

“No, but I feel better knowing someone else is, too.”

Fareeha smiled softly, “I have been for years. I almost feel like there should be a support group for us. Like for when Angela does something ridiculous like head to Turkey during their civil war.”

“I didn’t sleep well the entire time she was there,” Lars laughed with a shake of his head.

“I can take care of myself,” Angela pouted.

“That’s not the point,” Fareeha said patiently. “When you purposely put yourself in harm’s way, the people who care about you will worry.”

“It’s a good thing, Angie,” Lars reassured her.

The day of their many flights brought with it a fresh bout of anxiety for the doctor. It seemed no amount of sex or mediation that morning could loosen the knot in her stomach.

“How are you doing, habibti?” Fareeha asked softly as they settled into their seats for their first flight.

“I’ve been better,” Angela admitted before beginning to take slow, deep breaths.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” she whispered as she took the doctor’s clammy hand.

Angela managed a small smile. “I know.”

“There’s the slacker!”

Fareeha looked around the helipad and spotted Tariq and Saleh standing with Angela’s team. “Funny, I seem to recall you two getting time off the same time I did.”

“Yeah, but two days less than you,” Tariq sarcastically moped as he embraced her. “Please tell me you and the doc are sorted out,” he whispered.

The captain blushed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we’re sorted.” Beside them, Angela was being thoroughly examined by her nurse.

“Fatima, I’m fine,” the doctor said as she tried to bat the older woman’s hands from either side of her face.

“Oh, I’ve never heard that from you before. Your nose seems properly set. How is your hand?”

“It’s fine,” she laughed in exasperation.

The nurse frowned at her for a moment before pulling Angela into another hug. Quiet words were said and the doctor relaxed into the embrace.

“Captain, it’s good to see you,” Dr. Sobek greeted with a firm handshake after Saleh’s hug. “Am I going to have to keep an eye on you and Angela or can the two of you keep your hands to yourselves while on duty?”

“Neil!” the blonde shouted.

“Oh my, her face gets quite red, doesn’t it,” he laughed as he dragged Angela into a hug. “I suppose I’d better be careful or you’ll put me in my place.”

“I won’t hesitate,” she said with a wide smile before moving to greet Ahmed. “It’s good to be back.”

A temperate breeze blew through the open balcony door as Dr. O’Deorain settled into her favorite chair with her tablet and two fingers of whiskey. If she wanted her team’s latest research to be published next month, she needed to finish proof-reading their submission tonight.

At least Reyes and his comrades are finally gone. I should have that room thoroughly swept for bugs . . . as well as my lab just to be safe.

A short buzz drew her eyes from her work to her phone. If this is Sombra again, I may have to consider changing my number. Screen illuminated, Moira froze for a moment as she noticed the identity of the sender. Angela Ziegler, it has been awhile.

[Qui cum canibus concumbunt cum pulicibus surgent]

“He who lies down with dogs, will rise up with fleas. Just as pretentious and self-righteous I see.” She stood and took her phone to the balcony and contemplated how to respond. On the lake below, yachts drifted lazily as the lights of the city reflected off the water’s surface.

Working with Talon had always been a risk, one that usually worked well in her favor - the fews times it hadn’t involved Angela in one way or another.

Moira stared at her screen for a moment longer before switching off the phone. We said all there was to say years ago. No need to revisit the past. With one last look at the lake, Moira returned to her chair, sipped her whiskey, and went back to reviewing.

A/N: That’s it. No more - this thing was 25 pages by the time I cut myself off. I did think about putting in a scene with Moira getting passive aggressive texts from Angela, but this is enough. I typed that and got angry at myself for not doing that scene and put in that last bit after all - I think I have a problem.

So a few notes about why I did what I did:

I prefer my Mercy assertive for a couple of reasons. First, she’s a surgeon. While that doesn’t mean all surgeons are self-assured pricks, they do need to be confident enough in their abilities to know they probably won’t kill their patients. Second, she travels the world (war zones), meeting and helping new people - it would be a difficult thing accomplish if she couldn’t stand up to pressure and resistance for governments and combative locals. Third, she carries a weapon and uses it responsibly.

Pharah, in my mind, was a hot-head youth who mellows with age as the world sees her as her own person and not as her mother’s daughter. (I think that’s how just about everyone writes her.)

Ana teaches Angela Krav Maga - I like the fighting style, that’s the only reason I picked it.

Angela fights a couple of drugged/brainwashed jerks because I wanted to write battle Mercy sans blaster and I needed practice writing hand-to-hand combat.

I’m an awkward person so my main characters are also a little awkward. I also don’t write a lot of smut so . . . yeah, I’m not really sure how I feel about the execution of those scenes.

I’ll probably write more pharmercy in the future, but I’ve gotta get back to my korrasami story first. Thanks for reading!

#pharmercy #fanfiction #angela ziegler #fareeha amari #Overwatch #moira o'deorain

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