Lucio's Quarters – 11:48pm

"Holy… omfg," Hana whispered, her face pressed up against the window. "They're kissing."

When Hana's tour of the various MEKA had concluded, Lucio had insisted she see his collection of football jerseys. Once he had offered to show Jack Morrison, but it quickly devolved into talk of 'touchdowns' and… whatever the hell else happened in American football. 'Soccer', Lucio had needed to specify, at which point Soldier 76 had lost interest entirely.

At least the Korean understood what he was talking about. This had lead to him playing some music from his laptop, which lead to D. Va dancing adorably in place while listening, bouncing around his room and chatting about her favorite parts of his songs, which lead to the window, which lead to-

"Like, no joke. They're making out. It's getting kinda-" Hana ended the sentence with an 'eep!' Her hand clamped down over her mouth. She was blushing.

Lucio joined her at his barracks window, which just so happened to overlook the Helipad. He had always liked the view of the sunrise from there, but it was deep dark now. The lights left on the landing pad were meant for night time helicopter landings, but at this moment they fulfilled an ancillary purpose: giving just enough illumination to perfectly frame Mercy and McCree, locked in a tight embrace.

"Whoa," was all that Lucio had to add. He watched as Angela tilted her head back and sighed. Jesse's hand was gripping at her back as he kissed her neck. Lucio felt an uncomfortable-yet-exciting tingle in the pit of his stomach – the unmistakable feeling of forbidden sights. Voyeurism.

"Sh-should we be watching this?" he asked, subconsciously wetting his lips. "Are they even allowed to-"

"I really don't know…" Hana whispered, her hand hovering uncertainly in front of her lips. She breathed out, and the window fogged gently on her exhale.

Lucio suddenly felt aware of the proximity of Hana's shoulder to his. Even through the sweater, she burned like fire.

He shook the thought of Hana's shoulder out of his head, and found his voice again: "Hey, maybe we should-"

Down below, Jesse's hand snaked under Angela's shirt and the two teammates sprung away from the glass in unison. The intimacy was out of view, forever. For a moment, neither moved.

Then D. Va began pacing again, more furiously.

"Woooooooowwwwww…" she said at length, finally taking her place on Lucio's bed, hugging her knees to her chest. And then, all in one breath: "Wow wow wow wow wow…. "

Lucio realized he had nothing else to add that couldn't be summed up by that statement. He glanced over at her. Hana's eyes were huge. She staring ahead at nothing in particular, her face a bright vermilion.

Hana grabbed his pillow from her left and started worrying it in her hands, seemingly unable to keep still with nervous excitement. "Like, okay, I might have called that earlier, but I swear it was a joke! I had no idea!"

She leaped to her feet, and the pacing returned with a fury. "It's just like, that shipping part of my brain kicked on, because I knew we were gonna all here alone all weekend-"

"The what?" Lucio asked. In contrast to all of Hana's hyperactivity, he found himself rooted to the spot in the middle of his room, following her with his eyes.

Hana stopped, gesticulating wildly. "You know, when you see a movie or play a game and you like two people and you're just like 'They should kiss!' or something? It just gives you a warm feeling because you like both of them? You know what I mean?" She looked at him imploringly.

Not at all, he thought.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and the flutter of activity started again.

"So, I wasn't even serious about it or nothing, I always shipped her with Pharah, tbh, and I wouldn't have even opened my big stupid mouth if I knew it was… that they were actually…" she skid to a stop in the center of the room, hugging her arms to her chest. She looked back up at Lucio. The blush hadn't vanished yet. "…I mean, they were like really going at it."

"Yeah, that was pretty intense," Lucio said, glancing back towards the window to avoid thinking about how overwhelmingly attractive his teammate looked when she was buzzing with activity and be-sweater'd and… well, just Hana. A night spent hanging out and bonding had done nothing but deepen feelings stirring inside of him about the beautiful enigma that was Hana Song.

She sat on the bed again, seemingly having run out of room in the small dorm to interact with. Absently, D. Va collapsed on the bed and let out a long, stressful sigh, still taking it all in.

"Yikes, it's just so embarrassing," she murmured.

Lucio rubbed the back of his head, nodding in agreement. Now that the Hana-storm had subsided, the room felt almost awkwardly still. Neither D. Va or Lucio had the courage to make eye-contact - they were both of them witnesses to a moment of intense intimacy. And they were friends, sure! That didn't make it any less uncomfortable.

They shared a secret now, one probably better left forgotten.

"We… probably shouldn't mention this when we see them."

"Oh yeah. Totes not," D. Va shook her head emphatically. "Never ever."

Lucio turned, mouth open to say something, but the image of his budding crush reclined on his bunk stopped him dead. Her sweater had lifted slightly, exposing her navel to the open air and drawing his eye. Even moments from freak-out, D. Va just looked so peaceful and at home – it seemed to him that she seemed at home anywhere. Unbidden by his brain, Lucio's eyes traced up the slender length of her stomach, around the gentle push of her bust, past her chin and the marks on her cheeks and right up into D. Va's own eyes. Hana, his brain reminded him. D. Va to fans, Hana to-

Suddenly it clicked in his brain what he was doing. After what they had just seen, the last thing he should be doing is openly 'checking out' his new teammate, no matter how devastatingly beautiful she may be. Presently, Lucio's eyes were still locked onto her own. Worry crossed over his features.

Oh god, I hope she didn't notice that… he thought.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then D. Va shot up, abandoning comfort and firmly planting her hands at her sides. She straightened her sweater back down to where it should be and stared intently at the ground.

Lucio swallowed uncomfortably. Oh she noticed. He felt heat creep to his face as well.

"I um…" Hana cleared her throat, still unsure what to do with her hands. "I should... I should go."

"Yeah, no problem," Lucio took a step away from her, desperately trying to show he didn't mean whatever she thought he might.

"Uh-huh." Hana quickly scanned her brain to see if there was anything left to say, eventually landing on: "Yeah. Right. Okay then." She got to her feet, straightened her sweater, and headed out the door.

"G'night, Lucio!" she called without looking back. Lucio affected a half-turn to wave.

"Goodni-!"

The door shut behind her. Not quite a 'slam', but that was certainly the word that came to mind.

Lucio let out a disappointed sigh he didn't know he was holding in. Leaning against the window, he closed his eyes and tapped his forehead gently against the glass.

Stupid, stupid, stupid... Great job freaking her out and looking like a weirdo. Even if he was... attracted to Hana, first and foremost he wanted them to be friends. She was pretty, sure, but he also really liked her. She was fun to hang out with.

Hell, he had been really looking forward to that rematch...

Lucio looked back out onto the Heli-Pad, but neither Mercy nor McCree were in sight.

Below, in the darkness, he felt the sea. Lucio turned off his lights, closed his laptop, and got ready for bed.

He'd always been a morning person, anyway.

The HeliPad – 11:50pm

Even from under the heavy blanket of drunkenness, Angela Ziegler's body felt afloat.

No, it wasn't that the alcohol had dulled her senses – it had just muted the ones that didn't matter anymore. Things like 'common sense' and 'duty' had been mercifully quieted in lieu of the more important things.

Things that right now included every inch of her naked skin touching Jesse's. Angela leaned her head back felt the scratch of his stubble trace down her neck, followed by the soft suction of his lips. A moan escaped from the bottom of her throat, thick with desire.

Gott, how long had it been since someone had touched her like that? How long had it been since she was touched at all? Angela was always needed, but she so seldom felt needed – to be the choice someone made instead of the hero someone required. She hadn't even realized how deeply she'd wanted that. With an instant of clarity, she realized in tandem how much she wanted him.

She hated the smoking, she hated his flippant approach to every mission – jokes and puns when lives were on the line. She hated all this about McCree, but at this moment, she relished the taste of smoke on his lips and the gruffness of his hands.

Hands that at this very moment had found their way under her shirt, exploring greedily. He wasn't the silly cowboy McCree right now, he was a man who wanted her. He was-

"Jesse. Oh, bitte…" she breathed, before the rest of her sentence was cut off by vowel sounds. McCree for his part, didn't respond, obviously too preoccupied with setting her body on fire.

She thought about pushing him away – she knew she should - but she realized she wanted them to keep going. Angela was always the one that needed to be there for others; she had to be perfect, awake, immediate, always. But no, tonight she needed the night off. Embarrassed as she was to admit it, she longed for the pure, white, angel of mercy to get a little covered in scratches tonight.

But embarrassment didn't exist here, not after all those Dos Equis. Nothing existed here, not even her petty victory over this proud idiot. All that existed here on this platform was Jesse and his molten heat and his hands as they worked their way under her shirt, around to the naked small of her back before coming back up front and slipping under-

"Puta madre, you guys really aren't going to stop, are you?" said literally no one at all.

Which, of course, stopped them both dead.

Nothing was warm now. Nothing was drunk or beautiful or wonderful, and never would be again.

Angela realized with stone cold sobriety that her gun was not in her hands, which currently only felt the rough burlap of McCree's cloak. She felt the gentle, firm push of a barrel into the lower half of her spine, where Jesse's hands had just been exploring.

Nothing but fear now. Fear and unadulterated panic. Angela swallowed uneasily. She looked to Jesse's face, now stony-eyed and glaring over her shoulder.

"Don't you shoot her," came his gruff whisper. A command. "Don't you dare pull that trigger."

"Oh, I make no promises," the voice laughed. "Now why don't you two horny teens get your clothes back where they should be, and we march right inside?"

Jesse didn't move. Angela ran a million calculations in her head – anything that wouldn't end in violence, that would explain what she assumed was about to be their kidnapping, or... their deaths? Would they die tonight?

Oh god, she thought, I was supposed to be there for Fareeh-

The gun pushed harder.

"That might have sounded like a request, but it wasn't," the voice she now recognized as Sombra said.

Jesse cleared his throat. "Lemme get my hat."

"I have your hat, estupido. And your gun." There was no laughter in the voice now, simply facts. "Now come on – we don't have a lot of time."

The Outskirts of the Watchpoint – 12:00 am – Midnight

"Widowmaker reporting in, still waiting for pickup," Amelie called again. It was past time. The operation had called for maximum speed and stealth. In and out in ten minutes had been the working plan. It was now fifteen. Even allowing for Amelie's moment of reverie above the platform, she had made it back with time to spare.

No, she was not the problem. Reaper was never late, not accidentally.

He left you, the Spider at the back of her heart whispered. The Spider spoke often – she let Amelie know what must be done. He's not coming back.

Amelie knew The Spider was right, but she still felt the numbness of confusion. Why would Gabriel do that? What's his plan?

Talon was a cutthroat organization, this she knew well, but to toss her into danger without fully explaining the operation? He wouldn't do that to her. Not her. After all, in some part of her mind, she had always thought of them as-

-friends? The Spider laughed. You have no friends, Amelie. You are alone, now and always.

She brought her fingers up to her surveillance to hail again, but after a moment of indecision, her hand dropped to her side.

The Spider only spoke truth, it was what kept her alive and let her do her job.

Gabriel Reyes and her friends? Her and Sombra? Ha-ha. Très drôle.

Widowmaker turned away from the false safety of the ocean and back towards the dormant monster of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Reaper's plans could wait, as could the dull sting of betrayal in what remained of her heart.

This wasn't about escape anymore, this was about survival.

The odds of that were honestly slim, for Amelie was maybe the only person on this godforsaken rock who knew exactly what the XK-41 was capable of. She was familiar enough with its horrors to know that she couldn't survive the onslaught alone, not for the indefinite time period of 'whenever Gabriel decided to show back up'.

Amelie grimaced. She gripped the underside of her rifle until her knuckles turned white. I lived in Paris once, she mused. I used to dance. I should be there right now. Happy.

You'll never be happy. You will never be happy again.

And Amelie knew it to be true. Soon, the XK-41 would take effect, and when that happened: every dead soldier under their feet, from the Omnic War to the First Crusade, would rise and take arms. They would shamble towards anything living, and they would tear and gnaw and rip at its flesh until it joined their ranks. Then after two days, they would naturally fizzle out into nothingness. 48 hours, by Amelie's memory – then all the dead would return to their rightful dirt, and the world would forever be granted reprieve from the angry, clawing horde. It was a failsafe - it kept the virus from turning the earth into an eternal scream. No, the world at large would be safe from the dead.

But until Sunday, they would sweep over the island like an angry tide, until nothing breathed, cared, or loved anything anymore.

Just like you.

Amelie sighed, and looked again at the darkness of the empty sky. She promised herself that she would give Gabriel ten more minutes, before she made her way back into the base and started to make allies with the people she hated the most. She would probably make allies, anyway.

Weekend plans were always subject to change.

AN: Things finally got weird. Time to party.