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The snow falling outside her apartment looked determined to cover the entirety of Overwatch's headquarters in Geneva by nightfall. Curled up on the ledge underneath the large window in her living room, Angela watched soft white flakes slowly descend to the ground while she traced a circular pattern in the fog on the window’s surface with her left index finger. Her head rested against the chilly window and her right hand wrapped around a half-filled glass tumbler full of spiced rum.
Her third glass that night.
It was the holiday season. The time of the year for generosity, celebration, and spending time with loved ones. Angela had no difficulty with the first one. In these past months, she used up her free time volunteering at a Geneva hospital; the one she left almost a year ago to take a position as lead researcher in Overwatch's medical science division.
As for celebration, tonight was the annual holiday party at the Overwatch base. According to the rumors, this event was one people remembered months later, with food and drink from all over the world and a few different musical bands to provide the entertainment. A night of revelry...and mischief. Angela felt obligated to attend, considering this marked her first winter with the organization, but ultimately gave the excuse that she needed to finish an important research grant proposal with a deadline set for a month away.
She spent the last twenty years alone for the holidays, why should this time be any different? In her current mood, she felt comfortable by herself, where she wouldn't be a downer for the people having fun at the party.
Angela spent the first hours of the night putting the final touches on the proposal document. When satisfied with her work, she broke out a special bottle of holiday rum to celebrate.
Yes, she was celebrating after all. At least, that sounded better to her than the truth. But she knew the truth...this happened every year around this time...grant proposal or no.
It was around this time of the year that Angela spent the last happy moments with her parents...exactly twenty years ago.
She still remembered that night clearly. It was the first time her parents allowed her to light the candles in the menorah. Seven year old Angela felt like such a grown up then; little did she know at the time how soon she’d really have to grow up.
After the lighting on each day, they recited holiday prayers and sang hymns. She especially remembered the latkes her father used to make for just for these special nights. Even now, after a few glasses of liquor, Angela could still taste them. She never ate one again, though. Not after her mother and father died.
When the war ended, as a young girl living in an orphanage, Angela spent the holiday seasons crying in solitude. She ended that tradition and began another one when she started university as a young teenager; a few hard drinks to pacify the sadness. This tradition continued on to this very night.
Lost in thought while feeling a little tipsy, Angela traced more circles onto the foggy window. Her absent-minded doodling wouldn't continue for much longer, as a sharp knock on her apartment door grabbed her attention away from the snowy white landscape outside. She hopped down from the ledge underneath the window and rubbed the cool condensation from the spot where her forehead had rested against the glass.
Angela wanted to ignore the visitor but what if someone got injured at the party? Or sick? She wasn’t in the mood to deal with either; it technically wasn’t in her job description as head of the Overwatch medical research division and they had physicians and nurses on call that night. But her apartment was close to the large gymnasium where they held the holiday party and her inebriated co-workers would likely forget those details.
Before reaching the door, Angela dashed into her small kitchen area to place her glass of rum on the counter near the stove; just out of sight of the visitor. She then rushed back to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole first. She usually checked but alcohol always left her feeling less anxious about such things.
Outside in the falling snow stood a young woman bundled in countless layers of winter clothing: a dark blue heavy coat worn over another jacket that looked a lot like a blazer, two multi-colored scarves wrapped around her neck, and a light blue beanie to top off the ensemble. The woman held a thin, golden box in her gloved right hand.
Angela didn’t recognize her visitor but she looked strangely familiar. A few strands of dark hair snuck out of the sides of her beanie which framed a face highlighted by a pair of large, deep brown eyes on top of rosy cheeks. And then there were her full lips, strong jaw…
“Hello, are you Angela?” The stranger spoke with a shiver in her voice but Angela immediately knew her identity from the accent: Captain Amari’s daughter, who currently visited her mother for the holidays. She remembered Ana mentioning this all a few days ago.
“Yes,” Angela answered while trying to figure out in her head why Ana’s daughter of all people knocked on her door tonight instead of spending the time with her mother.
“Okay, great. Sorry to stop by without notice. I’m Fareeha, by the way. Ana’s daughter.” Fareeha’s eyes dropped to the box in her hand. “Since I’m done with the party and on my way back to our apartment, she wanted me to drop these off for you.” She held the box up towards Angela. “It’s just some cookies.”
Angela grabbed the box from Fareeha and noticed the woman shiver and draw her arms closer to herself. Even with the door open to the outside and wearing only a black sweater with a pair of jeans, Angela didn’t feel cold herself. Perhaps the alcohol had a part in that?
This brought her to a dilemma. One part of her wanted to invite the poor woman into her apartment where she might have a chance to warm up a bit before making the trip in the snow back to her place. Angela could make her a cup of coffee and let her borrow a thermos to keep it warm on the way home.
The other part of her wanted to simply say ‘thanks’ and send Fareeha on her way; she wasn’t in the mood to entertain a guest. Not tonight.
Since it was the ‘season for giving’, the altruistic side of the argument won. Plus, she remembered that Fareeha was only a few years younger than her and currently attended university. If anything, she could start up some small talk involving academics; a topic Angela loved discussing with anyone.
“Thanks, Fareeha...I shouldn’t let you stand out in the cold. Would you like to come in and get warm? I could make you a cup of tea or coffee for your trouble.”
Fareeha shook her head, “That won’t be necessary.”
Angela pulled the door open even wider, “But I insist. Unless you have somewhere else more important you have to be right now?”
Fareeha rewarded the hospitable offer with a lopsided grin, “Fine, since you insist.” She stepped through the door and Angela closed it behind her. She immediately felt the air around her grow warmer.
Fareeha began removing the scarves, then her beanie, revealing a head full of thick, raven-colored hair. “I’m going to get snow everywhere.”
“It’s only snow. It melts.”
“Yeah, but I hate snow.”
It finally struck Angela that the Egyptian woman standing in front of her wouldn’t be used to this type of weather, especially the harsh cold. Her attire made sense now. At first, Angela thought the two coats and multiple scarves overkill... maybe for her but she grew up here. A different experience from someone who lived in a desert climate.
Fareeha finished peeling away the final layers of cold protection by removing her heavy coat and hung it on a rack near the door. She placed the remainder of her winter clothing items in a neat pile on a wooden chair. Angela finally had a clearer look at Fareeha. The woman was a head taller than her mother and on the lanky side but looked athletic. Ana once mentioned to her that Fareeha played some sport but the name of it escaped her.
Fareeha smiled as she looked over her recently discarded winter gear, “I should have kept it on. It takes double the time to get it all back on. You think I'd be used to this by now with going to school in Vancouver.”
Angela returned the smile and waved for her to follow into the kitchen.
“I see you’ve been having a party of your own tonight,” Fareeha commented from behind her. Angela turned and followed Fareeha’s eyes over to the glass of rum.
So much for hiding it.
“Not much of a party. Just a drink,” Angela laughed, trying to play off her lonely drinking session as nothing serious. “Would you like coffee? Tea?”
“No, thanks. I don’t like coffee and I’m not in the mood for tea.”
Really? She doesn’t like coffee? Who doesn’t like coffee?
“Um, would you like a glass of rum then?” Angela offered.
Fareeha picked up Angela’s glass of rum from the counter and handed it to her, “Sure. I stayed sober all night and one glass can’t hurt. I think it will warm me up more than the tea.”
Angela reached for the bottle of rum from the shelf behind the stove and began pouring a glass for her visitor.
Time for small talk.
“You mentioned you attend university in Vancouver? What are you studying?” Angela asked.
Angela usually hated chatting with people she didn’t know very well but needed to fill the silence with something while her guest finished the drink. Unfortunately, she hated talking about herself...at least when it came to personal things. Now, her research, she could talk about that for hours to anyone willing to listen...but she wouldn’t subject the poor woman to that.
“I'm studying Mechanical Engineering, ” Fareeha answered before sipping her rum.
Angela smiled, secretly thankful Fareeha wasn’t an art student or something similar. Sure, she loved looking at a nice painting or sculpture, just like anyone would, but talking about it was another story. All the gritty, analytical details about color composition and forms? No, not for her.
She could work a conversation with an engineering student, though.
The two women stood in Angela’s kitchen and talked about Fareeha's time at school, her coursework, her professors that gave them too much homework. She talked about her friends on the school's basketball team. She talked about her girlfriend and how they've been together since sophomore year. Unlike Angela, Fareeha seemed comfortable talking about herself and her accomplishments. She was proud but not too arrogant.
There was something comforting in Fareeha's mannerisms, in the way she spoke and in her facial expressions. She seemed honest and loyal; noble and worthy of trust. Maybe she was actually none of those things but the perception was more important to Angela at that moment. If this is the person Ana raised, she must value those qualities herself. The thought set Angela’s mind at ease. Months ago, she reluctantly joined Overwatch in order to gain the support and funding required to research and develop a prototype for front-line medical technology that could help save lives as soon as a crisis began. Since then, she desperately wanted to believe in the people she worked for. She wanted to believe in the organization.
The mood of their conversation took a sober tone when Angela asked Fareeha about her plans after graduating. The young woman wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps and join the Egyptian Army with the goal of getting placed in one of their special forces units. She believed her degree would help her in achieving this. Angela knew most of this already. Ana often complained about it.
For the most part, Angela agreed with Ana; there were plenty of ways Fareeha could put her education to use and help protect people in need besides running to Overwatch. But then again, she had no right to judge considering she joined the military organization to further her own dreams. Maybe they were both foolish and Overwatch was a great stage of fools.
By now, Fareeha had finished her drink. “That’s why I left. I hate it when she lectures me over the phone and it’s even worse in person. As I was leaving the party, she yelled for me to bring you some cookies. I really didn’t even know who you were...I got a name and an address...but you have a quiet place and good rum, so it worked out,” Fareeha smiled after she relayed those details of the small fight with her mother that led her here.
Angela was unsure in which direction to take the discussion. She still believed Ana only wanted the best for her daughter. And the safest. And the happiest. Even though Angela lacked any combat experience herself, she knew about the aftermath. She knew about its effect on survivors.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the rum and I appreciate that your mother thought of me,” Angela took the diplomatic approach. It felt inappropriate to add on to the negativity by telling Fareeha her own thoughts. Not this time, at least. It was the holiday season.
A knock on the door prevented either of them from saying anything else. Angela excused herself and placed her glass on the counter. She left Fareeha in the kitchen and walked over to the door. This time, she peered out of the peephole. It was Captain Amari, wearing her blue Overwatch jacket and beret. Angela opened the door for her.
“Angela! Look, have you seen my daughter? About this tall...” Ana raised her hand in the air above her head to indicate a height. “...and grumpy. I’d feel like a terrible mother for having her wander off without me but she’s twenty-two so I’m off the hook.”
“She probably flew back to her dad’s after she left the party. You can’t leave her be for just one night?” Gabriel yelled from behind Ana on the walkway leading to Angela’s door.
“Be quiet, Gabriel,” Ana shot back over her shoulder. But before Angela could even blink again, she caught sight of a snowball flying from somewhere behind both of her new visitors. It landed square on the back of Gabriel’s head with a thud.
“Dammit Jack!” Gabriel cried out when it hit him. He wasted no time bending over in the snow to make one of his own and tossed it at Jack in retaliation.
“If either of you hit me or Angela. You’re dead,” Ana turned and threatened the men. Both ignored her, only focusing on whacking each other with snowballs.
They were all drunk. Ana smelled like a brewery just by herself. If Angela got closer to the other two, she knew they’d smell just as bad.
“I’m here mum,” Fareeha replied from behind Angela’s back before she had a chance to answer Ana.
Ana’s eyes opened wider, “Fareeha! For a moment, you had me worried you did leave. I’m sorry if I upset you earlier, habibti. We can talk about it if you want but not here. We’ve intruded on Angela’s space for long enough tonight. I told you to drop the cookies off...not make yourself at home. She wasn’t bothering you was she?” Ana’s glassy eyes moved to Angela.
Angela shook her head, “No, not at all.” It took all of her willpower not to laugh at Ana. Her superior officer sounded so ridiculous right now. This was the first time she ever saw her drunk.
“Did you like the cookies, dear? I wasn’t sure what kind you eat. Torbjörn and his wife made them. I think they’re shaped like elves or some Christmas shit like that.”
“I didn’t get a chance to look at them but I’m sure I’ll enjoy them,” Angela replied with a tiny laugh escaping her mouth.
Fareeha stepped forward to stand beside Angela in the doorway. Her sour face revealed she wasn’t as amused by her mother's drunk antics.
“Mum, you’re drunk. Let’s get you home before you say something stupid.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m here for. To take you home. And not to say something stupid,” Ana replied, slurring the 's' sounds in the last sentence.
Fareeha ducked into Angela’s apartment again to find her coat and other belongings. Angela helped her gather everything and bundle up again while Ana yelled at Jack and Gabriel to quit acting like children. Angela heard Jack cry out after a snowball pelted him on the back.
“Thanks for the drink, Angela. And the company. It helped me get my mind off of things,” Fareeha addressed Angela after covering herself in winter clothing again.
“I wonder what that could be?” Angela teased with a knowing smile. Fareeha rolled her eyes in the direction of the front door and her mother. She smiled back at Angela, with her charming face now framed by her beanie, dark hair, and a red and gold scarf. “Honestly, it helped me get my mind off of some things too,” Angela confessed.
“I’m glad for…” Fareeha began before Ana’s cry interrupted her.
“Watch it, Jack! Who taught you how to throw? Your aim’s terrible.”
“Uh, I need to get them back before they kill each other or damage something at your place. Either would be bad,” Fareeha looked at Angela apologetically.
Ana stepped into the apartment and slung an arm around Fareeha's waist. Angela caught a fresh whiff of the alcohol wafting from her.
“Shall we go, Fareeha, and leave the doctor to her paper? We can chat a bit on the way back.”
Fareeha led her mother to the door and they said their farewells to Angela. After they left and the door closed behind them, Angela returned to her spot near the window. She smiled to herself as she thought about everything that just happened with her drunk superiors and Fareeha. It was a bizarre night but a memorable one in a good way; much better than her original plan.
Perhaps joining Overwatch wasn’t a mistake after all.