Jesse McCree would be hard-pressed to forget the day he first met her. It was a day he'd have been hard-pressed to forget anyhow, considering it was the day everything fell apart and he found himself locked in irons. He prided himself on the fact that it had taken a small army of law enforcement folk to finally bring him down, though as he sat in the white-walled interrogation room, he felt an idle pang of guilt for not taking more of THEM down in return. The young officer across the table from him was clearly reveling in having the upper hand on the great Jesse McCree, and when the fellow leaned across the table to stick his face in Jesse's, he ended up staggering backwards as his nose met a solid head-butt from the aggravated cowboy. Then the door hissed open and -she- stepped in, dressed in a well-tailored black suit and surprisingly sensible shoes, with her red hair piled up atop her head and gray eyes betraying nothing of her feelings about the situation. She was also built like an old-fashioned heartbreaker, wide hips and a bust that he could see even beneath the severe cut of her jacket. Jesse forced himself to resist the urge to tip his hat.

"Get out." The first words out of her mouth were directed at the young man who was now nursing his bleeding nose, and he scampered out of the room with a muffled curse. "I apologize for his behavior." She turned her eyes on Jesse and he thought he detected a twinkle of humor there, despite her clipped tone.

"Aw, ain't nothin' I couldn't handle, ma'am." He winked at her and she gave him a withering stare in return, clearly refusing to buy into his charming antics.

"Jesse McCree. My name is Supervisory Agent Moran. I am responsible for you being here." She smiled, placing well-manicured hands atop the little file of papers on the table. "I have the utmost faith that you will come to see the error of your ways."

"Error? 'Scuse me? Ain't hardly nothin' wrong with bein' the best damn outlaw this side of the Pecos," he drawled, irritation rushing through him that this diminutive dame could needle him so easily.

"Ah yes. Well. A lifetime spent in maximum security has a way of adjusting the way a man sees the world. Or-more specifically, no longer sees it." She leaned back in the chair, a pretty smile curving across those kissable lips.

"Ah, get outta here, y'damn harpy." He turned his head and spat on the floor, his expression murderous.

"Very well. Let's see how much you enjoy the solitary experience." She pushed herself up, dusted off her skirt and then plucked the files up from the table as she turned to leave.

"Gonna enjoy watchin' you walk outta here, doll," he purred, rewarded by the slight stiffening of her posture.

"Perhaps that time alone will instill some manners in you as well," she snapped, stepping through the door as it slid open. "Guards. Return Mister McCree to his cell."

Their antagonism continued for quite some time, though Jesse learned that his captor was capable of smiling; laughing, even, and he began to look forward to her questioning sessions, taking the small reward of her sudden blush and bright smile as payment for his imprisonment.

After a short while, he was pleasantly surprised to find that she had moved their meetings to a room with windows, and even more surprised when she entered and pressed a small button, his ankle and wrist shackles releasing. He stood, yawning widely as he stretched, wrists rolling as he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ain't you afraid I'm gonna hurt you?" He took a lazy step around the table, stopping in front of her and leaning down so he could look her in the face.

"I am not." Her reply was quiet, but when her gray eyes met his, he could've sworn she was staring right through him.

"Then you're a pretty little fool, ain't you," he murmured, one hand rising unbidden to touch his fingers to her cheek.

"Don't make me regret trusting you, Jesse." The breathless way she said his name made him suck in a breath-and of course she smelled of cinnamon, damn her-and become abruptly aware that his cock had gone hard as a spike in his jail duds. He grunted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and slinking back to his seat, his posture that of an embarrassed tomcat.

"First time you ain't called me Mister McCree," he noted sourly. A small victory.

It was only a short few weeks after that that he found himself outside (outside!), albeit on a sealed porch, and his lovely jailor pulled a small bag from her jacket, sliding it across the table toward him.

"A cigar," he noted dumbly, fingers placing it between his lips and lighting it reflexively.

"Your favorite brand, I believe." She sat there across from him, hands folded primly as usual, her face betraying none of her emotions. He wanted to drag them from her, damn it. Make her scream his name as he-he growled in frustration, glowering at her.

"The hell you bein' so nice to me for?" His question seemed to catch her off-guard and she blinked, allowing him to see behind the mask for a brief moment, to see a welling of emotion in her eyes. Then the mask returned, and she offered him a small smile.

"You may be a prisoner, but you are still human," she stated, spreading her hands. "I am sure you've seen the worst of humanity already, Mister McCree. I have nothing to gain by emphasizing how dreadful we can be."

"Uh huh. Tryin' to butter me up. I'll just assume it's so you can fuck me over later." His harsh words made her forehead crease with worry and he immediately regretted them.

"You've already done that to yourself quite admirably." Her tone was cold and she barely looked at him for the next few hours, the man furious with himself for feeling the overwhelming need to apologize.

It was only at the end, however, when she offered him the choice between an eternity behind bars or serving beneath Overwatch, that he realized how much he'd hoped time would just stop and leave the two of them alone. After he'd signed his life away to the Watch, he pushed the documents back toward her, catching her hand with his as she reached for them, marveling at the way her little gasp of surprise made him stiffen like steel.

"M'not good with this kinda thing," he murmured, thumb running gently along hers. "I uh. M'gonna miss ya, little lady. Ain't a nice world where a man can't just enjoy his time with a gal."

"Jes-Mister McCree." He realized, with a significant swell of the ego-as well as a certain organ, that he'd flustered her, and she gave his hand a soft squeeze. "I will miss you as well. Stay safe out there." Then she pulled away, handing the papers to a muscular man with a brooding expression outside, a man Jesse immediately wanted to beat to death with his hands for looking at her and making her smile.

He was roused from his thoughts by a gentle murmur, glancing down at the woman curled in his arms, peacefully sleeping nestled against him. The fingers of his human hand reached out, running along her cheek and then along her shoulder, the sensation making her nuzzle even closer. Damn, the woman did certainly have a way of making Jesse McCree feel like a million dollars. He settled for tracing patterns along her scalp with the tips of his fingers, eventually rewarded by a little yawn and then two gray eyes flickering open and glancing up at him.

"Morning," she mumbled, a much bigger yawn following her greeting as she rolled over, burying her head in a pillow.

"Sun's been up fer a while now, darlin'," he chuckled, following her movements and tugging her back against him, perfectly willing to be the big spoon in this situation.

"That a revolver or are you just happy to see me?" The question caught him off-guard, a snort escaping him as he realized that she could feel his length pressed solidly up against her rear now, already aching for her attention once more.

"I'll jus' let you guess," he teased, a soft grunt sounding as she wriggled back against him. "M'happy to see you. I ain't exactly tryin' to be sneaky."

"Thought so." She sounded smug, though it edged into a distinctly breathy noise as he slid between her legs, entering her with a slow, gentle push. "Jesse-."

"Let m'love you, woman." His gruff voice made her heart ache and they made love in intimate quiet, the only sounds those of pleasure and adoration. Later, as he pressed her up against the wall of the shower and took her again, she caught his face between her palms and murmured her joy against his lips.

"Why did you come back?" She dropped the question as they settled back into the bed, his arms cradling her. "Once Petras happened, I didn't think Jesse McCree would bother to surface again."

"I hid f'a long time after that," he admitted, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Tried t'find you after Gabe an' Morrison lost their damn minds, but all the folks I talked to said you'd kicked it." He supposed he'd expected to see a flash of guilt across her face, but instead there was only a look of deep sorrow.

"I did. Or at least, that's what everyone believed, doctors included." She saw his lips parting to ask the question and quickly raised a finger to silence him. "There was a Talon attack a few months before the explosion in Switzerland. They blew up a motorcade I was traveling in, and I was pinned beneath the debris for hours. My spine was shattered." She drew in a deep breath. "The doctors kept me in stasis for months, trying to find a way to rebuild such a thoroughly broken body. They managed-though my back is as human as that metal hand of yours. By that point, I'd already been written off. I was released a free woman, nowhere to go and no friends to speak of."

"God damnit, woman," he muttered, "I shoulda been there. Keepin' you safe." He glowered at the wall across from them. "Shoulda been there t'take care of you."

"Jesse." She said his name with a snort of laughter. "I found my own way. Besides, why would you want to rescue your captor?"

"'Cause I been moonin' over you since the first goddamn day I clapped eyes on you," he retorted, surprised by the way her expression softened and her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. "Don't-don't cry, sweetpea," he grumbled, burying his face in her hair. "I told you years ago I weren't good with romance."

She was the one who silenced him, surging in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck as she kissed him savagely in return. He groaned, sinking a hand into her hair and then settling the other at the small of her back, making a noise of primal appreciation as she ground her hips against his. It only took a moment for him to position himself at her entrance and he hilted himself with a rough thrust, catching her lower lip between his teeth as she gasped. This time their loving was neither gentle nor slow, one hand looping around the back of her neck and pinning her against his chest before he finally rolled her onto her knees and pressed her against the bed as he fucked her, teeth leaving bruises all along her skin. He delighted as she came for him again and again and when he finally finished deep inside her, he felt nothing but a sense of completeness as he swept her up into his embrace and kissed her, soothing her until she had fallen asleep in the crook of his shoulder once more. One of his hands came down to rest atop her belly for a moment, a speculative gleam in his eye, before he settled back, content to let time stop and leave him alone with his gal.