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It's February first. One of those cold days where winter is proving itself to be a little bitch that doesn't leave easily. Gabriel Reyes refuses to let the weather control him. Well, that and the looks on the recruits' faces when he comes out in a tank top and tells them to get to work keeps him warm enough to be satisfied. And he may or may not have left his jacket in his room while being too fucking lazy to go back for it.
The day passes easily enough, though, and soon it's time to head to the cafeteria for dinner. Gabriel grabs his food and sits down at his usual table. Ana is there today, deep in conversation with Reinhardt and the ever-present, ever bitchy Morrison. Gabriel could try talking to them, but he doesn't care enough. Besides, someone mentioned him at the table behind him, and he's trying to figure out if it's something he needs to respond to.
"He just looked cold out there, if ya ask me." The voice had a bit of an Southern accent, but not a thick one. "Maybe he needs a new coat? Valentine's Day is coming up, someone oughta give him one then."
"Aren't you supposed to give someone lingerie then?" Second voice was more northwest, with a bit of a nasal quality. "Having them wear more seems like you're saying 'you're ugly, cover up', doesn't it?"
"Are you gonna be the one giving the boss lingerie? I'll start writing your eulogy now. 'Ah, Sandra Wesser. The dame was a dumbass. Shoulda stuck to chocolates.'" They laugh, moving onto other topics. Gabriel doesn't bother listening anymore, finishing so he can return to his room.
In front of his room door is a box of hot chocolate mix, with a little note that just tells him to enjoy it. He picks it up, takes it in. Nothing in the room is out of order. His jacket is laid out on the chair where he left it. His books are lined up neatly on his desk. The paper by the door is unmoved, unrumpled, and clean. He doesn't drink hot chocolate, but Morrison does. Let him test it for anything suspicious.
Outside Gabriel's room the next day is a bottle of cologne. He feels the slightest bit of indignation that he could possibly smell until he realizes that it's the brand that he normally uses. Which is slightly disturbing because he doesn't share that with anyone. Someone had to recognize the brand from his smell or his smell from the brand. There's no note this time, though, so he doesn't know which. Maybe it was a lucky guess. He puts it in the pocket of his jacket and pushes the thoughts out of his mind. There's training to be done. He'll check the cameras for who the secret admirer is sooner or later. It's not like it's dangerous so far.
Morrison seems suspicious about the chocolate, but Gabriel tells him that it was just left and seems a bit more willing to take it. As if Gabriel would have him killed with this many witnesses. Ana cuts in with a comment that she finds it strange that he doesn't like chocolate. He shrugs, not bothering to argue. Most people think it's strange or think it's a hassle, and he tends to agree. But he can't exactly rewrite his tastebuds to eat some chocolate. Plus, he likes enough sweets without it, and he's trying to not have to put in extra hours at the gym to work anything off.
There's nothing the next day, or the day after. On the fifth there's a pair of earmuffs and on the sixth there's a scarf. It had been slightly colder those days. Though Gabriel'd like to believe that he hadn't been shivering, maybe there had been something that had given his displeasure away. Too bad the giver is staying anonymous, Gabriel could have asked him what it was. It would suck if all his recruits had learn to read him so easily so soon. was
Nothing happens for a couple of days. Then, on the ninth, a mission goes wrong. It supposed to be a simple assassination, and they had scoped out the scene beforehand. Their target interacted with no one besides his date and the employees. Nothing happened that would have given away having the entire restaurant working for him. Nothing that said his date was well-trained in completely slaughtering anyone that tried to hurt him. And, unfortunately, she had caught the ones who were sent to do just that.
Jesse McCree was the only one that made it back alive. He almost didn't, either, when he went back in for his two partners' bodies. A Sandra Wesser and Alex Chen. Gabriel would have given him extra hell when he saw what took him so long if not for the way the kid carefully put them in the car and avoid talking about them. It was just "I shoulda kept my eye on 'er" and "I almost got 'er, I swear. But I wasn't fast 'nough." Their families were contacted before the van arrived. Chen's parents wanted the body. Wesser's didn't.
McCree has an impromptu funeral right then and there and asks for the body to be cremated. Gabriel doesn't know what he plans on doing with the ashes. Doesn't really care, either.
The next day there's a box in front of his door, and when he opens it he finds one of those bikini underwear things. It's pink, frilly, and most definitely not going to fit him. It doesn't seem like it's supposed to, either. But, this time, there's a note. It's in chicken scratch, but Gabriel makes out "From Sandra Wesser, dumbass."
Sandra Wesser was turned to ashes hours before. Unless she planned for a delivery now, Gabriel is assuming someone sent it to him on her behalf. And he remembers the conversation from the cafeteria clearly enough. The voice isn't sharp in his memory, but he can just wait until something clicks. He's not the leader of Blackwatch because he's an idiot. (He's not the leader of Overwatch because the higher-ups are, though.)
On the thirteenth comes a coat, though it's almost time to retire it, anyway. The scarf is more than enough to keep him toasty outside. No one comments on it besides to grumble about how he gets to be the warm one. None of his friends point out that the style isn't something he'd pick out or make for himself.
On the fourteenth, he's up early enough that he catches his admirer. Or, rather, he hasn't slept, which accounts for his brain pausing when it realizes who's standing before him. But, it does make sense that, of all people, it's the smartmouthed brat that Morrison saved from prison only to throw at Gabriel. Who's all sass and quips but performs funerals for those who wouldn't otherwise get one.
"Morning, boss. You're up early."
"So you're the one who's left all that shit by my door." McCree looks taken aback for a second, then gives a sheepish smile.
"Aw, guilty as charged. Ain't gonna dock my pay, right? 's far as I know, 's'not a crime to be nice." This kid's face is so expressive, Christ. He looks like he committed a crime.
"No, it's not, but what do you want? I sure as hell am not going to just fall for you because you got me a scarf. Especially because you also left me underwear. That doesn't fit me." The deer in the headlights look isn't gone yet, but McCree does laugh. It's nice and would probably would look nicer if it met his eyes. Gabriel hates the way he slightly wants to find out.
"Well, I mean, I happen to have a reservation for two for tonight at a restaurant that hasn't tried to kill me. 'd be an honor if you came." An honor. As if Gabriel were a great man. A man capable of putting the stars in McCree's eyes.
"And if I said no?" Just the insinuation that he might has the kid the looking like a kicked puppy.
"Guess I'll just say you stood me up, try to get free dessert."
"I suppose I'll save you the embarrassment and go with you, then." If Gabriel were half as intimidating as he is, he's pretty sure that McCree'd be hugging him right now. As it is, McCree only vibrates with excitement before saying he'll come get him at 7. Then he's off, goofy smile on his face.
(He cleans up well. Gabriel forgives him for keeping his stupid cowboy hat on because the suit already fits him well enough that anything further and they'd be missing the reservations anyway. Instead, they go have dinner, bullshit about their day, and fight over paying the bill. Gabriel loses, if only because McCree says to pay on the next one, looks guilty for implying that Gabriel would want to go out with him again, then looks like a lovestruck idiot when Gabriel concedes. His smile is soft and like he's trying to hide it.
Gabriel wants to kiss it off his face.
When Gabriel says this, on the way back, McCree stutters and says they can't. "I've just had chocolate, and you said you ain't a fan." Gabriel tugs him close, lets McCree be on the outside as Gabriel's back is pressed against a building, and replies that there's always a first.
And McCree's lips against his are hesitant, slowly pressing as if Gabriel were going to run away. Gabriel isn't in love, but he's thinking he could be in the future after McCree waits to whisper against his lips to stop him if he changes his mind.
The chocolate is a warm taste, but it mixed with whatever McCree's natural taste is and Gabriel can't help moaning into it. Like he's the one that should be affected. But it means that McCree gets enough confidence to link their hands together and not let go until he walks Gabriel back to his room.
A year later and Gabriel can only stand the taste from Jesse's lips.)