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There weren't all that many opportunities for the Overwatch crew to unwind – far too few, in the minds of some – but when they came around, they took full advantage. Tonight, for instance, following a successful mission, someone had obtained an inordinate quantity of beer and loud music was blasting through the base. Almost everyone was taking advantage, and Jack had disappeared, giving them free reign to carry on the party. Angela was somewhat tipsy, perched on the arm of a sofa with a beer bottle in her hand. On the seat of the sofa, Jesse was bordering on very drunk, and holding forth on something that seemed incredibly important but was entirely incomprehensible to Angela.
“Jesse,” she said, cutting him off and resting a hand on his shoulder, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Tha's- Hm,” he said, frowning, “Me too.”
Angela laughed, almost falling off her perch.
“I'm sure-” she began, but stopped as someone stumbled and fell heavily against her back.
“Oh, God, I'm so sorry,” Fareeha said, still leaning her weight against Angela and clearly more than a little drunk, “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Angela reassured her, smiling warmly, “Come! Join us! Sit down.”
There weren't any seats available, a fact which Fareeha had clearly noticed.
“Sit here,” Angela said, shuffling backwards and patting the stretch of armrest in front of her. Fareeha laughed, but sat down, her balance still off.
“I'll support you,” said Angela, winding one arm around her waist and propping her chin on Fareeha's shoulder, “See? Safe and sound.”
Her other hand, which still held her bottle, reached around so she could take a sip.
“Mm, thank you,” Fareeha said. She was slouching slightly so that Angela's chin could reach her shoulder.
“I'll be watching over you,” Angela said, her breath warm against Fareeha's ear. She was very warm, a comforting presence to have wrapped around you.
“My guardian angel,” Fareeha teased, wrapping her hand around Angela's wrist and guiding her beer bottle up so that she could steal a sip.
“Thief,” said Angela, but she didn't seem too upset.
“Mm,” said Fareeha, turning her head to press her lips to Angela's cheek, “What's yours is mine.”
“I'm pretty sure that's not how that's supposed to go,” said Angela, rolling her eyes. The effect was somewhat ruined by her smile.
“Isn't it?” Fareeha said, nuzzling her cheek, “Oh well.”
“Has anyone told you you're a terrible flirt when you're drunk?” Angela said, laughing as Fareeha's hair tickled her neck.
“I am a brilliant flirt when I'm drunk,” Fareeha corrected her, twisting around so she was sitting sideways in front of Angela, in a better position to kiss her neck.
“Oh, you're terrible,” Angela sighed, lifting her bottle to her lips.
“Mm.”
“I love you,” she said, softly, more to the bottle than to Fareeha.
“Was that meant for me or for the alcohol?” Fareeha asked, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. Angela seemed to think about it for a moment before answering.
“Both,” she said decisively, before kissing Fareeha on the lips, “Even though you're both terrible.”
Fareeha laughed, then kissed her again. Despite the music still thumping away in the background, it was a peaceful moment. It was soft warmth and alcohol and messy kisses. It was Fareeha and Angela, both of them slightly brilliant and slightly terrible, and altogether in love.