Since Tracer is overly enthusiastic about everything, she'd probably be an overly enthusiastic lover, as well.

Speed prompt, written in 29 minutes.

It had been a peaceful afternoon. Widowmaker would perhaps have said 'perfect', but nothing was perfect—and, in Widowmaker's experience, reflecting on how perfect things were was generally an invitation for the universe to ruin them.

So, it wasn't a perfect afternoon, exactly. But, the warm winter sun was coming it at just the right angle to fall on her in her leather armchair, her favourite blend of coffee was in a mug on the table beside her, and, most importantly, she had her whole apartment in Paris to herself. It was finally quiet enough for her to focus on practicing some of those mindfulness exercises Angela had been teaching her to deal with the flashbacks. The timing was perfect.

She closed her eyes, counted out a long, slow breath and began to focus on her hands. How they didn't feel numb with cold anymore, how nice it was to be able to feel the tips of her fingers, and how smooth her leggings were against the backs of—

"Brilliant, you're HOME!"

Jumping in her chair, Widowmaker's eyes flung open just in time to catch a flash of vibrant colours as the door flew open, someone flew through it towards her, and the back of her armchair smacked against the wall with a dull thump as someone landed in her lap.

Lena. What 'perfect' timing. Just perfect.

She opened her mouth to say something biting to that effect, but found Lena's mouth planted firmly against herself. While she was reeling from that, Lena pulled back, saying, "Oh my god, I'm so up for it right now! It's been murder waiting for my bloody mission to finish so I could visit you again!" before she went back to kissing her.

Lena was still wearing all of her armour, but that fact didn't seem to bother her at all. Rather than shedding any of it, her hands went straight for the hem of Widowmaker's jumper, pulling it up.

Coming to her senses, Widowmaker managed to push her back and pull her jumper down. "Do you mind?" she said, even though the sun on her stomach had felt quite nice. "This may be Montmartre, but you're not paying by the minute."

Rather than be offended, Lena just laughed. "Hah, hah! Nice one!" she said, and then leant in for another kiss.

Widowmaker put a hand over her mouth, stopping her. "Since you specialise in missing the point, let me spell it out to you: I'm busy."

Lena's eyes travelled from Widowmaker to the table—it had a coffee and nothing else on it. She looked sceptical as she pulled Widow's hand off her mouth. "Doesn't look much like it," she said, and then grinned. "Besides," she said, toying with hem of Widow's jumper, "you said it, too: you were looking forward to me staying over again…"

Pfft. "That's because you're cheaper to run than an electric blanket," Widow said dryly, adding, "although, in its defence, the electric blanket does talk a lot less." …But it also had a lot less muscular thighs to wrap around her, Widow thought, her eyes dipping to the legs splayed across hers. She'd forgotten how good Lena looked in her work pants.

Lena noticed the glance. "Can't hide that look from me," she told Widowmaker, and then won the wrestling match and managed to steal another kiss. "Come on. Whatever you're busy with, it's time to take a break from it."

When Lena was like this, there was nothing to do but give in; she was a force of nature. Grumbling just for good measure, she let Lena pull her jumper over her head so the late afternoon sun could warm her skin again. Then, she sat back and let Lena—still bubbling with enthusiasm—find a number of other ways to warm her.

Well, she mused, focusing on the feeling of Lena's lips travelling down her torso, Angela hadn't said she needed to be alone when she practiced those breathing and mindfulness exercises.