Solarbird (solarbird) wrote,

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The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 14: how long has it been so?

This chapter is most probably worksafe, but contains brief discussion of past sexual activity. [AO3 link]


Lena's uncharacteristically quiet voice came from the bedroom door, as the two blue assassins lay curled up with each other in Emily's bed, tired from lovemaking, but not quite taken by sleep, not yet.

"Mmmm?" said Oilliphéist, rolling over, just a bit, looking towards the sound.

"What is it, cherie?" asked Widowmaker, scooting up a little, propping herself up against the headboard. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, it's..." The nightshirt-clad Overwatch agent looked down, not at her feet, but not entirely not at her feet either, and hesitated.

"We keeping you up, luv? We're done in for the night, if we have, so..."

"Yes," added Widowmaker. "If you wanted to join in, I can't say I'd object in general, but you're a bit late. I think we're both fairly well sated," She smirked, but affectionately. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait 'til tomorrow."

You absolute tease, Lena thought, snickering. "Nah, that's not it either. I'm... just..." She make a little noise, one made of air, and embarrassment. "I'm... lonely."

"Gordon Bennet, you're worse than me!" Emily giggled, softly. "Lonely? Really?"

"I know," she said, hastily, "I sound like a bleedin' five year old kid, don't I? I'm just... I'm used to hearin' people. To people bein' around, either at Gibraltar, or my apartment, or on mission..."

"These apartments are very well soundproofed," agreed the Widowmaker. "I find it relaxing."

"I can see that, but I just can't, I just can't... not tonight." She steeled herself. "Can I sleep with you? Just, y'know, sleep? So it's not so..." she waved her hands, a little. "...isolated? I don't like feelin' alone. S'got bad associations for me."

"Sleep, you mean... with both of us?" Emily asked.

"Yeh, just... ah, this is daft, I didn't realise how quick I'd get used to not bein' in bed by myself. I'm fine." She made a little noise of frustration pointed at no one but herself. "I'm sorry, luvs, I don't even know what I was thinkin', I'll..."

"No," her lover said, quickly. "Come, cherie," Danielle continued, moving aside the bedcover on her left. "Please - sleep with us."

Lena blushed a little but hopped immediately over to the side of the bed. "Y'sure? You don't have t'say yes, I..."

"I am fully aware of that, and yet, I am saying yes. Get in."

"This all right with you, Em?" Lena said, sliding under the covers as Widowmaker rearranged pillows.

"Not afraid I might kill you in your sleep, then?" Emily needled, shifting over just a tad to make more room.

Tracer snorted softly, a single, small laugh as she settled in. "Nah, luv. I'm..." She looked a little amused at the idea herself. "I'm really not."

"We've already been through that once," Widowmaker interjected, quietly, settling back down between them. "She is, I think, over it."

"Yeh," Lena said, softly, laying her head by Danielle's shoulder, kissing it once, a gentle touch. "I think I am."

Emily smiled less euphorically than was her wont, and reached over, running her hand through Lena's hair, petting her. "Good. I'm..." She thought for a moment. "...I'm glad."

"I am, too... oh, that feels really nice," She breathed, nuzzling, a little, at Oilliphéist's fingers and palm.

"I know."

"Hoooooo, this is better," she said, tension draining from her voice as she settled in. "Thank you."

Widowmaker hummed, a satisfied sound. "You are welcome. Now, both of you - it is late. Go to sleep."

"Good night, Lena."

"G'night, Em."

Emily snuggled in against her lover, and looked across at the copper-eyed woman opposite her, as her eyes closed. I was ready to kill her just a few weeks ago, and yet... she's so easy to get along with, like I've known her all my life... she's so much like...

She opened her eyes again, suddenly not quite so sleepy, not quite so asleep. She is, isn't she. It's subtle, but... she is like... me. Just a bit. Is that why Widowmaker fell for her? Or...

She reached over, gently cupping Lena's face in her palm, and Lena, already asleep, nuzzled into her hand, again, reflexively, just a little.

I wonder... how long that's been so.


"Of course she does," Moira replied, matter-of-factly. "I'd be surprised if she didn't."

Oilliphéist frowned, something she didn't do often, not anymore, but gave her aunt a chance. "Explain that."

Moira smirked. "It's entirely straightforward. I wouldn't think you'd need an explanation."

"Humour me," said the assassin, still frowning. She didn't like how it felt, but that didn't stop her, either.

"My, you are annoyed, aren't you? Come on, dear, think it out. What do you and she have in common?"


"...true, but, not what I meant. What else?"

She thought about it. "Being English?"

"Half, in your case, but..."

"Raised in England."

"Wrong track, dear."

She thought about it again. "Eyes."

"Ah," came the reply, "now we're heading down the correct road. Go on..."

"...eyes..." Oh, she thought, realising. "...and nervous systems."

"See?" Her aunt smiled. "Hardly so complicated after all, is it?"

"They're that similar?" she asked, surprised.

"It's the same set of upgrades, and I can't imagine why you think I'd vary the parameters for no reason - at least, not beyond the obvious changes for medical compatibility with her individual physiology and genetics."

"Huh," said her niece, neutrally.

"It's not surprising in the least you're seeing similarities. All of her smallest movements have certainly shifted, just a bit. Yours did, and in the same ways... so of course you're now just a bit more alike. Widowmaker, as well. You're seeing things in each other that you'll never see in anyone else - at least, anyone else who hasn't been similarly upgraded."

"And that's all it is," Emily replied, uncertainty in her voice.

"Well, I can't speak to that. But anything else you're seeing, I'd have to think you'd've seen it before."

"That's..." And suddenly, she thought back, to that night in Lena's apartment, those weeks ago, with Oxton unconscious underneath her. I see what you see in her... she remembered saying. "...huh. Maybe... maybe I did. A little. When we took her in, I remember..."

"Exactly. And now, you're just that little more alike. The burrs everyone has on their edges smoothed off, I suppose, just for the... three of you. The slightest bit - and please don't relate this to your sex life, I have no interest in hearing about that - additionally compatible. Complimentary, even."

"Yeh," nodded Oilliphéist. "I remember, when I..."

"You said how well you thought you'd work together, as a team - as a triad. You told me about it, and I complimented you on your vision."

"Yeah," she nodded. remembering. That... yes. I remember that.

"If there's a little smoothing out of abrasive edges as a side-effect of the upgrades, and that smoothing helps... so much the better, wouldn't you say?"

Emily looked deeply thoughtful, contemplating. It all makes sense, she agreed. But... it's just... awfully neat, isn't it. Awfully, awfully neat.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered the possibility this might happen. Truth be told, I'm glad it did - I've told her outright she'd make an excellent agent on our side, after all this is over, and being friendly with you wouldn't exactly hurt anything in that effort. You'd like that, I'm sure, wouldn't you?"

Emily smiled, and chuckled. "I'd ... yeah. I would. I wouldn't want to be on the opposite side of a fight with her. Not if I could help it."

"Well, she turned me down flat, of course - as you'd expect. But who knows - over time, she may revisit that decision."

Oilliphéist snorted. "I doubt it. I just hope we can work something out amongst the three of us."

"Fair enough," nodded the Oasis minister of genetics. "Well, then. That's answered. Is anything else bothering you?"

She shook her head. Aunt Moira's always been there for me, she thought. Why not here, as well? "No, I... no. I think I'm fine."

"If anything else bothers you, niece, bring it to me. I'll always want to know."

"Of course, auntie. Absolutely."

Dr. O'Deorain shifted in her chair. "On my end, I have good news - our analysts have seen the wisdom of some rather substantial time off. They've been working so hard for so long, it seems they've decided they've earned a vacation."

"Oh? Where are they going?"

"Bora Bora and Tahiti. They're going to spend a month and a half sailing around the islands and exploring tropical beaches. It should be lovely."

"Well, good on 'em, then."

"Indeed. I'll have your next mission plan ready by the end of the week. Tell your ... counterparts to be ready."

"I will."

"Good. Moira out."

The research doctor arched her fingers against each other, leaning back in her chair, frowning, as the connection dropped. She shouldn't've noticed that, she thought. It's too soon. I've underestimated her... but fortunately, she's on my side.

She closed her eyes and thought deeply about the next six weeks. I'll need to accelerate the rest of this plan, but I can do that. I'll need to inform Kamaria... and Jabari. They will both need to know. Everyone else should not be a problem.

Nodding to herself, she reworked actions in her head, thinking about what could, and could not, be moved, stacking the many individual pieces into a slightly new, and slightly more compact, order. It's all for the best, regardless. Emily will be entirely happy about it, once all's said and done.

Yes. Yes. That will do. She opened her eyes, new changes all thought out, and gave herself a thin smile. They'll all be very, very... happy.

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Tags: also on ao3, danielle guillard, emily "oilliphéist" gardner, gingerspider, lena "tracer" oxton, moira o'deorain, oilliphéist, overwatch, overwatch au, talon!emily, tracemaker, tracer, tracermaker, widowmaker, widowtracer
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