Ce Monde est Nôtre

lena

Lena hadn't meant to get into this much trouble, she just liked to have afternoon jogs. In her full uniform. On rooftops. Hey- it's not like she couldn't. So why not? She guessed the answer to that 'why not' was the high priority assassin with a rifle at her nose. Bad decision number six hundred twelve. Maybe more, Lena didn't expect to count just how many times she managed to fuck up, even this badly.

She grinned easily, looking up at the woman before her who must be nearly a foot and a half taller. Widowmaker scowled back down at her, no sense of hesitation on her face. Why would there be, Lena questioned herself. This is most likely the third time they've clashed, there must be some sense of familiarity now. By the amount of scratches and scars on Lena's body that belonged to her nails (which were uncomfortably perfect, by the way), they must be best friends now. But somehow, Lena still guessed Widowmaker didn't even know her name.

"They say third time's a charm, y'know?" Lena began amicably. Her fingers silently graced the latches on her holsters, she could access her pistols before Widowmaker could think about driving that rifle through her face.

The cold woman above her, illuminated by the mid afternoon sun, looked purplish, even against the orange of Lena's goggles. She had to squint to meet her eyes, which stared in annoyance through her. It's rude not to look someone in the eyes, Lena thought to herself.

Neither of them moved, staring at each other. Lena couldn't help but grow bored, her eyes moving from her adversary's to her outfit. It was the normal latex jumpsuit, covered in a jacket. It would do her well, Lena mused, even if Widowmaker claimed she couldn't feel the cold, there was no way she wouldn't feel the breeze with that much skin showing. Lena suppressed a laugh at the thought of this terrifying woman, half naked and shivering in the cold.

Noticing Lena's quieted amusement, Widowmaker quickly thrust the rifle into her nose to brazenly remind her the situation.

Lena jumped backward and grabbed at her reddened nose, "Hey!" She yelped in pain, though continued to talk to talk with her hand over her face. Her leather glove muffled her quick words, "I thought we were past playing hard to get; It's our third date, after all." She smiled again, baring teeth with a sort of teasing threat. Widowmaker hissed, the first sound out of her since they met only minutes ago. She opened her mouth to say something coated in her crisp accent that Lena was so familiar with, but was silenced by a cry of fear below. An instinct in Lena bubbled over her tension and she jumped quicker than Widowmaker could react, pushing her to the side and slightly over the building. It was incredibly unsafe to just leave such a dangerous woman unattended like that, but Lena barely acknowledged this.

A crowd had gathered below, soldiers dressed in black ushering civilians to the wall. Talon soldiers. This was a flashy approach to creating fear they were so known for and one Lena could easily stop it. Had she not been already occupied, that is.

A hand gripped her shoulder for a second and she was thrown back with quick, steady force. Slamming into the ground, Lena cried out in sudden pain, her head slamming the cement below her. She propped herself up as quick as she could, but her assaulter pressed a firm boot against her chest, pushing her back down again. One Lena could take a dozen foot soldiers, but one Lena could not take one Widowmaker. The woman did not remove her foot. Lena's breath caught in her throat.

"You are lucky, girl." The dark figure began, slow and mocking. "I'm afraid I must cut our date short to join my comrades."

Even 'comrades' was too friendly. Lena couldn't imagine Widowmaker, Ms Holier Than Thou, treating anyone other than a bug. She sure as hell felt like one right now.

"Though being here with you would have been much more fun," She finished. Lena felt the tension on her chest raise slightly, and she acted quickly.

With all her force, she drove Widowmaker's foot off her chest and yanked it down so the woman would lose her balance. Rolling to the side, she picked herself up, cocked her pistols, and spammed as much ammunition in her general direction. Lena's vision was blurry and clouded and she was sure there was a massive welt from where she hit her head.

She heard the click of rope and Widowmaker was gone for an instant. Lena huffed, fingers still shakily on the triggers of her dual pistols, wary of her adversary's presence. Was she actually gone?

The same hand that had grabbed her shoulder gripped her neck roughly from behind. Lena gasped out, the sudden restriction worsening her coming headache. She pulled at the hands around her neck.

"I said I must leave," Widowmaker reprimanded sharply, her curt accent hot against Lena's ear. "Or do you really want me to stay that bad?" She was yanked swiftly to meet Widowmaker in the eyes; Lena choked, trying to answer slyly but her lack of oxygen mixed with her migraine slurred what she could get out.

Widowmaker could kill her. Right now, because Lena had left her for those two milliseconds, this woman turned assassin could end her life with a swift snap of her neck. Lena knew she knew this too, the look on Widowmaker's face was wild, especially for her.   She leaned a little closer to where her fists had enclosed around Lena's neck so their foreheads were almost touching. Lena smelled flowery perfume and gunpowder with her erratic breaths.

"Don't miss me too much, cherie," Widowmaker sighed, her voice uncannily flirty.

"You are so getting off on this, aren't you?" Lena struggled hoarsely, feeling herself smile even though she was basically dying. Widowmaker only smiled once more, though this time it was more fleeting than the last, fading back into her normal frown and letting go of Lena's neck.

She hadn't killed her. She'd only teased her, painfully and breathlessly.

As quickly as she had let go of Lena's neck, she was gone, joining the fray below on the streets. Yells from military officials rang out and gunfire spread. From the multiplying British voices Lena could tell the Talon forces were being pushed back. Perhaps by distracting Widowmaker Lena had actually done well.

It was a wonder that Lena had actually distracted her. From that crazed smile to the tone of her voice, Lena couldn't help but feel that the so called emotionless murder she had been debriefed on for so long wasn't so emotionless after all. Lena swallowed.

Peering over the edge one final time, she saw that the overall damage hadn't been that bad after all. Civilians had dispersed quickly and those who remained were being ushered by special forces. No real tragedy here, Lena thought gratefully.

She turned slowly on her heel, rubbing where Widowmaker's fingers had been. They would probably bruise over and turn blue and blotchy. Now she would have a piece of Widowmaker on her twenty four seven to be reminded of how easy she was to beat down, Tracer thought in bitter sarcasm. Ironic how she would still be restricting her voice and hurting her when she was wherever spiders go.

Lena scurried back to her apartment as quick as she could, a hand still gingerly gripping the fingerprints forming at her neck.