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Angela Ziegler grumbled, ripping off more gauze with her teeth. “I swear, between you and Gabriel, I go through a roll of this stuff a week,” she chastises Jack Morrison.
“As if- ow- you didn’t go through as much back at the hospital,” he hisses, voice tinged with sarcasm despite his pain.
She sighed. “I suppose I did. Still, I urge you to take caution. I can only do so much out here.” Pulling a bandage from her pack, she fixed it over the gash on Jack’s cheek. “Ideally, you’d need stitches, but considering-”
“Enemies incoming!” Ana shouted, more or less finishing Angela’s thoughts for her. Jack nodded, eyes steely and stern.
The Swiss let out another small breath. “Go. I can fix the rest once we’re back at the base.”
. . .
“It’s getting late, Angela.”
Angela brushed aside her blond bangs and swiveled to face the man in her doorway. “And yet you remain awake, Jack. I see no reason for you to lecture me.”
Jack shrugged, but offered no rebuttal. She was right, as usual- an argument with Reyes had left in a foul mood. “Being tired on the battlefield is no good. We need the doctor on call to be alert.” He walked over to her desk, examining the papers scattered about. “Are these blueprints?”
There’s a nod and a quiet hum. “It’s a form of protection for me, while also offering healing properties and advanced mobility. Like you said, the doctor on call must be on alert.” She smiled up at him, gently patting his cheek. “Granted, a soldier who is tired is one sent to the medic frequently.” She brushed past him, white lab coat swishing against her ankles. “You don’t need to make up excuses to see me.”
“I know, Doc,” he muttered, mostly to himself, focusing on the faint echo of her flesh on his.
. . .
“Mercy on call!” she yelled, flying over to where Jack was kneeling, taking aim. “I”m with you. Are you injured?”
“Nothing too serious, but these guys are tough-”
“Say no more.” The stream of light from her staff faded from a pale yellow to a vibrant blue. “Damage boosted.”
Jack took a moment to smirk before lining up his shot and eliminating all three targets before him. “Nice. Thanks, doc.”
All targets neutralized. Simulation complete, came the soothing robotic voice of Athena.
Jack stood up, wiping some sweat from his brow. He was starting to get up there in years- even a simple simulation like this left him out of breath. “That suit is really something,” he complimented. Flight, armor, and an unlimited stream of health and damage buffs- truly a marvel of medical technology. Beyond technical capabilities, it fit her well, showing off her pronounced hips and shapely thighs. And with a name like “Angela,” the wings and halo seemed all the more appropriate.
Angela smiled, almost hovering in excitement. “Isn’t it though? Thanks to Tjolborn and Winston, of course. I would have never been able to build it without them.” She let out a breathy laugh before calming back down. “I apologize, that was quite unprofessional of me.”
“It’s alright, Angie,” he assured her, grabbing her shoulder gently. “You’re going to save a lot of lives with that thing.” Her grin was infectious, and soon enough he was beaming as well. She had that effect on people, always making them feel better, both physically and emotionally.
They remained like that for a moment, until a yell shattered the serenity. “Angela! It’s time for our simulation!” Gabriel shouted at them from across the target range. “Focus, chica!”
The blonde rolled her eyes but hollered back “coming!” Before she left, however, she reached up and pressed something against Jack’s cheek. “Thank you, Jack.” With that hanging above them, she flew over to Reyes, prepared for more practice.
It wasn’t until he laid in bed that night that Morrison realized that that “something” were her lips.
. . .
Lena laughed, nearly doubled over as a result of Angela’s joke. “I’ll have to remember that one! Winston’ll love it,” she announced, eyes as perky as ever. “I bet it would even make Gabe laugh- oh, hi Jack!”
The pair turned to see a bemused Jack approaching them. “Lena, Angela,” he said cordially. Behind him, Gabriel pouted, frustration even more present than ever.
“Gabe! You have to hear Ang’s joke!” Lena gushed, rocking back and forth on her toes. “Go on, tell him!”
Angela chuckled, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “W-well-”
“Actually,” Jack interrupted, “I’d like to speak with Angela privately.”
The blonde’s thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. Tracer’s eyes grew even wider and giggled. “Then I’ll tell Gabe myself! So, an Omnic and an agent walk into a bar…”
Jack lead Angela to the side, leaving Reyes to endure the chipper chatter of Lena Oxton. “I have news,” he began, looking at the wall, unable to met her eyes. “Reyes and I were talking with the higher ups and…”
She had heard rumors of one of them being promoted soon, becoming the new commander. There was even a small betting pool. Ana had her money on Reyes, but Gerard, Lena and Winston felt Morrison had better odds. Angela wasn’t one for gambling, but she had her hopes in secret. “Yes?” she prompted, trying to keep her voice level.
He exhales deeply, more than a bit uncomfortable in sharing the truth. “Apparently, I’m the new strike commander.”
“Oh Jack! I’m so proud of you!” she squealed, grabbing his face and pulling him down to press a kiss to his lips. It wasn’t until they separated with a noticeable pop that realization hit them both.
“Ang-Angie…”
“OMIGOSH!” Lena shrieked, practically vibrating. “Gabe! Jack made Commander and- and-”
“And we should leave them alone,” Gabriel finished, an absolutely bitter edge to his words. Oxton somehow failed to notice and protested as the Latino man pushed her out of the room.
“Jack, I am so sorry… I don’t know what came over me-” Ziegler's apology was silenced when Jack cupped her cheek with one hand and her neck with the other, pulling her back into his embrace. If the previous kiss was sweet and innocent, this was all pent-up emotions and relief. Angela melted into the older man’s strong and protective grasp, knees nearly buckling.
“My angel,” he mumbled against her plump lips. In response, she tangled her fingers in his (surprisingly smooth) hair.
They didn’t move for quite a while.
. . .
“They found Amelie. She’s no worse for the wear, I’m happy to report.”
Angela released a breath she never realized she had been holding. “Oh thank goodness. I was so worried about her…”
Jack took a seat next to her on her bunk, wrapping his arm around her waist protectively. “We all were. But she’s back with Gerard, safe and sound. We’ve given him tomorrow off so he can take care of her,” he explained.
The Swiss nodded, curling into him. “I can’t imagine… what if something like that would happen to you, Jack?”
He couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Oh Angie, you really think some punks like those would be able to take me out? You wound me,” he teased, pulling her into his chest.
“Mmhmm… well, it is my job to take care of wounds…” she purred, slipping her jacket off to reveal bare shoulders. “Perhaps I should perform a check up. Maybe even…” Her fingers scratched at the cotton of his shirt. “A full-body examination.”
The chuckle he responded with was deep and scratchy, barely disguising the arousal in his voice. “That reminds me, there’s been this itch I can’t quite scratch… maybe you can provide some healing…” With deliberate and painful slowness, he pushes the hair away from her face, framing her shining smile with his hands. “Or an ointment.” His legs intertwine with hers, and he knows she can feel his excitement.
She gasped, hand sliding up towards his pecs. “Shall we begin the procedure?” Her lips danced across his forehead before finally applying pressure to his own.
“Oh hell yes, angel.”
. . .
“I apologize I couldn’t be there myself, Dr. Ziegler,” Winston said as they began their work for the day. “Or is it Dr. Morrison now?”
Angela laughed and patted the ape on the shoulder, smiling fondly. “It’s still Ziegler,” she assured him, “and I understand. He was hellbent on marrying in the same church as his parents, and who am I to deny him happiness?”
The gorilla straightened his glasses. “Not a good wife, I assume.Then again, we did have to interrupt your honeymoon-”
She shushed him with a wave of her hand. “Jack understands, work comes first to that man. How is the patient?”
“He’s stable but… look at his condition, Doctor. I don’t even know where to begin.”
She exhaled, looking over her shoulder to the man behind the glass. “Do you think this is the right thing?” she asked abruptly. Her grip tightened around her clipboard, knuckles turning white.
Winston put down his tools to regard Angela. “It’s your job to save those who are hurt, Doctor,” he eventually said, voice struggling to stay even. “If you want to stop, we can.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing all her attention on the wrecked body she was trying so desperately to save. “No,” she whispered, barely audible over the hum of the life support machines. “I want- need- to save him.” Her fingers reached out to touch the broken man, but faltered. The gold on her left hand glinted under the florescent lighting. “We’ll save you, Genji Shimada.”
. . .
He rubbed her back, letting Angela release her tears. “It’s all falling apart, Jack,” she sobbed, huddling deeper into his arms. “First Gerard, then Ana, and now the research base… We had to force Reinhardt into retirement, and Blackwatch is causing nothing but controversy. Lord knows what McCree is doing. Overwatch…”
“Isn’t finished yet,” Jack interrupted, turning her cheek to face him. “Listen to me, Angel. I’m the Commander, and I’ll make this right.”
She sniffed, and his heart broke further. Her usually striking cerulean eyes were bloodshot, stains of mascara and blush staining her beautiful visage. “Promise?” she choked out.
He kissed her forehead and rested his chin on her hair. “Promise. I’m talking to Gabriel tomorrow, see what he thinks we should do.”
“I don’t know, Jack…” Angela whispered, her words tinged with fear. “He’s been… out of sorts for quite a while.”
Jack shook his head. “He’s my best friend. A few disagreements won’t change that.”
She rubbed her eyes, brushing tears off her face. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be so paranoid.”
He laughed, squeezing her waist affectionately. “It’s ok, Angel.” A few kisses were exchanged, soft smiles and gentle giggles. “Love you.”
“Mmm… and I love you, Jack.”
. . .
As it turned out, she had every right to be paranoid.
. . .
As soon as she had heard about Reaper, she knew it was entirely possible. Unlikely, but possible. He could be out there.
McCree had alerted the rest of the recalled agents to Soldier 76’s existence. “Seems like he could be a valuable ally,” he said, lighting a cigar, much to Angela’s dismay. “Better him with us than Talon, at the least.”
Genji nodded. “Does anybody know where he was last seen?”
“Dorado. Thinkin’ of headin’ down there myself, try to convince him. Anyone wanna join me?”
Lena jumped up, blinking to Jesse’s side. “I do!” The older man laughed at her enthusiasm, and even Angela couldn’t hold back a smile.
“You always wanna tag along with me, don’t ya, darlin’?” McCree teased, causing Tracer to blush. Angela had a hunch she was tempted to rewind her time to stop him from saying that.
Genji decided he would accompany McCree and Oxton, leaving the base in the capable hands of her and Winston.
She wondered vaguely what Soldier 76 was like in person.
. . .
Soldier 76, as it turned out, was old. His hair was paper white, face battered and scarred. Well, what little of it Angela could see, anyway.
“We’re happy to have you on the team, Soldier,” she told him cordially upon their first meeting. “You seem to have quite a bit of experience.”
He nodded, silent for a while, before finally replying with a “you could say that.”
And like a bullet to the stomach, realization hit her, knocking the oxygen out of her lungs.
. . .
She found him in a dusty alleyway of Route 66, silently judging a faded and ripped poster. “The glory days,” she mused aloud, causing the man to jump.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Doc,” Soldier 76 responded, voice monotone. “You were there, weren’t you? It couldn’t have been as good as everyone said it was.”
Angela shrugged, tendrils of her ponytail fluttering in the evening air. “Perhaps not,” she conceded, lips showing the barest signs of a smile. “But for me, it certainly felt like it.”
That made the older man to laugh, a barking chortle that pierced the silence. “What makes you say that? There must’ve been something that distracted you from all the corruption and misery,” he reasoned. “What was it? Money? Recognition? Power?”
“You, Jack.”
There was nothing but quiet for a few moments, both processing those relatively simple words. Eventually, Soldier 76 spoke up: “I have no idea what you mean.”
Angela took two steps forward and took the grizzled veteran’s shoulder, turning him to look her in the eyes. A delicate hand, smooth and gentle, cupped his rough chin, edges of her fingers nudging under the metal mask. “You don’t have to keep pretending, Jack. I know it’s you- I’ve known it’s you.”
“...how long?”
“From the start,” she chuckled, her other hand taking his and squeezing the palm. “You think me too ignorant to recognize you? I’m ashamed.”
With a sigh, Soldier 76 reached up and undid the clasp to the device hiding his identity. “I could never fool you, could I, Angel?”
Angela’s eyes watered as she finally met the gaze of someone long since mourned and a feeling of pure warmth and affection spread from her toes upward. “Never.” She leaned into his touch, nearly purring as he held her face in his strong hands and brought them closer.
The mask clattered against the dirt, and Jack Morrison kissed his wife once again.