Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started as a tickle in the back of her throat. Angela didn’t have time for it, so she did what any overworked, under-rested, caffeine-addicted workaholic did. She ignored it, just like everyone ignored the fact that Genji wasn’t wearing pants. (She privately suspected that he just wanted to show off his butt, which she simultaneously thought was touching and hilarious. Touching, because she had to work long hours to get that ass to function properly and she liked that he appreciated her hard work and wanted to show it off, and hilarious because by this point she was sure that everyone on the planet had seen it, marveled over it, and then wondered why he still wasn’t wearing pants years later.)

Besides, they had a payload to push, and she had idiots to heal. A small tickle was nothing important. Healing McCree and Soldier: 76 from their bullet wounds was important.

“Oh well,” she thought. “At least they are moving the payload.” Suppressing the urge to cough, she glided over and started up the healing beam.

But ignoring it did not help the cough that she developed the next day. Or the small sneezes she would occasionally emit. Ana had just narrowed her remaining good eye at Angela at the sound of the sneezes and continued sipping her tea.  Jesse loudly barked a laugh and proclaimed that her sneezes were “cuter than a newborn kitten with its momma” to which everyone within earshot tilted their head in confusion, then realized that it made more sense than most things he said, and shrugged.

Angela scowled and whirled on him, retorting, “I am not cute! I am a trained medical professional and can name all the bones in your body as I break them!”

Or at least she attempted to. The effect was somewhat diminished as she broke down in kitten-cute sneezes at the end of her tirade.

Jesse howled in laughter and elbowed his new drinking-buddy/target-to-annoy-with-his-cowboy-charms, Hanzo. Hanzo shot a glare at McCree, but had a loose fist suspiciously covering his mouth that didn’t conceal his smile. Hanzo continued flipping through the fashion magazine on his tablet, stopping to mark certain pages as he continued to smile, and remarked, “It would be wise to not annoy the good doctor, McCree. She is the reason for your continued survival throughout many of these missions.”

“Aww, but she jus’ sneezes like the cutest thing I ever saw!” pleaded Jesse.

“And what would that be, exactly?” interjected Hana, who was upside down on the common room sofa with a gameboy held in one hand.

“…Wut would wut be?”

“The cutest thing you ever saw!”

Jesse seemed to think for a moment, before lighting up. “Why, I would say that the cutest thing I ever saw wuz…” He paused for dramatic effect.

Hanzo looked a mixture of pre-emptively unimpressed and annoyed.

“When you taught the noodles tricks! I especially liked that you taught ol’ grumpy pants’ here noodles to kiss your cheeks for a photo!”

Hanzo flushed red, stood up with his tablet in his hands and tried to beat McCree over the head with the tablet. “They are not ‘noodles’! They are thousands of years old dragon spirits that should be treated with respect, not taught silly tricks!”

As Jesse laughingly fended off Hanzo’s (very feeble – seriously, was he even trying?) attacks with his hands, Hana righted herself on the couch and started yelling about how the noodles’ “silly tricks” had gotten over 3 million likes and hearts on the internet in 2 hours. Plus, they were hard to train little brats. They had eaten the entire bag of chips before they got the trick down! Genji’s noodle had only taken a third of a bag!

Angela took the commotion as an opportunity to escape the idiocy, but even as she left, she couldn’t escape the headache blooming in her skull or the cough bubbling up in her throat.

The coughing and sneezing got worse the day after the cute incident (at least she thought it was the next day, she had cooped herself in the med bay for an unknown amount of time immediately after being insulted). The med bay was stocked with only subpar coffee, a terrible bar of chocolate, and the tiniest sliver of cake in the mini-fridge for foodstuffs. Honestly, the team never appreciated how much hardship she went through to keep them healthy. That chocolate bar had been awful. Speaking of food, she realized that she had eaten and drank all of the available foodstuffs she had hoarded. Time to go to the kitchen. And possibly grab an extra blanket from the common room. The temperature in the med bay was obviously broken, as it kept fluctuating between unbearably hot and cold enough to start cryo-storage. Angela would have to speak to Winston about the unacceptable conditions she was working under.

She had even startled Zenyatta out of his meditation with the worsened cough as she passed by his room on her way to the kitchen. Once he had regrouped all of his orbs (minus one, it was stuck in the ceiling), he floated into the hallway remarking, “Friend, I do believe you should see the good doct-” before he noticed who he was talking to.

“Dr. Ziegler, are you well?” inquired the robot as he sped up his floating to catch up to Angela.

“Ja ja, I will be fine, just a small cough. No need to be concerned, Zenyatta.” Angela waved him off with a small smile.

Zenyatta’s face plate remained impassive, but he tilted his head a fraction. “Dr Ziegler, I know you have been working hard lately; perhaps you should take some time to rest? Come, meditate with me, and I will go send Genji to make some tea with honey for your cough.”

Angela inwardly grimaced. She liked Zenyatta, and knew that he was crucial in helping the team both in and out of battle with his healing orbs and peaceful teachings, but just because he can do some healing with his harmony orb or whatever didn’t mean he knew modern medicine! Not that she was ill. It was just a cough! And sneezing! And the thermostat was broken!

Angela forced a smile on her face and replied, “I will keep that in mind Zenyatta, but right now I need to have lunch.”

Zenyatta’s head tilted a few more degrees. “Dr. Ziegler, my internal chronometer says it is 5:13 p.m. It is well past lunchtime. Did you forget to eat?”

Angela was about to respond with “I apologize, I meant dinner, I misspoke” (and conveniently leave out the meager food she had consumed) when she started to cough again.

It only was three coughs; it wasn’t that bad, but Zenyatta floated backwards a few centimeters and leaned back. (Inwardly, Angela wondered why, it wasn’t like he could get sick. Not that she was contagious or anything. Or sick for that matter.)

The monk began, “Dr. Ziegler, I-” but Angela held up a finger to stop him.

“Zenyatta. Please. I will be fine. It is just a minor cough. Besides, I am a trained medical professional. I think I can handle a small cough.” Angela narrowed her eyes at Zenyatta’s optical sensors.

“Be that as it may, I am worried about you.” Zenyatta stated, keeping eye/optical sensor contact.

What ensued was the most awkward silent staring contest Angela had ever been a part of. Zenyatta could not blink, but even with that practical knowledge in the back of her head, Angela felt she couldn’t back down and could not be the first to blink or look away.

Zenyatta slowly floated closer to her and she slowly leaned down to get her face on his level as they continued to stare at each other. He smelled heavily of the incense he burned as he meditated (could he even smell?). Angela felt a sneeze forming.

“And I am only trying to –“ Angela started before her nose decided it had enough.

And that was how she ended up accidentally sneezing on Zenyatta’s face.

Horrified, Angela bolted down the hallway with an “Oh! I’m so sorry! Let me go get something to clean you! Stay right there!”

Zenyatta just floated there for a few seconds before remarking, “This is unpleasant.”

Chapter Text

It finally came to a head the next day.

Yesterday, after running off, Angela had grabbed enough towels to completely cover Zenyatta twice over, stuffed them in his arms with a “I’m so sorry! It won’t happen again!” and then ran the other direction after sneezing on the poor omnic (yet again). She had hoped that it would have been enough for him to accept her apology and get the hint that she could take care of herself, but noooo.

Apparently, the little metal traitor had told Ana and Lúcio about the incident yesterday. It was the only reason she could think of for why they were standing in between her and the transport ship today.

“Don’t worry about the mission today, Ang. Zenny’s got you covered!” Lúcio bopped his head to his music and gave an easy smile. Beside him, Ana smirked and folded her arms.

Angela bristled, and felt the blades of her wings shift with her agitation. “That is very sweet of him, but I am assigned to this mission. It would be remiss of me to shirk my duties.” She knew she was openly shivering at this point, but dammit, she wasn’t sick, it was just cold outside today!

Lúcio shifted uneasily, but still kept smiling. “Naw, it won’t be shirking your duties! He’s offered to fill in, since, you know…”

Angela narrowed her eyes. “Since what?”

“Since you are sick, dear Angela,” piped up Ana, still smirking.

Angela reeled back as though she had been slapped, which didn’t help because she stumbled backwards a step with the loss of balance (damn these heels). Undeterred by the stumble, Angela yelled, “Sick? Sick?! I am not sick! I am perfectly fine! I am – “

The rest of her tirade was lost to a violent bout of doubled over coughing.

Ana just smirked more, while Lúcio looked torn between staying where he was and helping her sit down. Angela glared at both of them as she leaned heavily on her staff.

“You are sick, little one. Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way, you need a nap.” Ana smiled, with a twinkle of amusement in her eye.

Angela gave her an extra glare (Ana just smiled more) before sliding her gaze to behind Ana. The rest of the team was in the transport already, sticking their heads out of the open door at the sound of Angela’s yelling. Perfect. She could lock on to one of them, glide to them quickly, then they would lock the door and be on their way to the mission. She’d have to deal with Zenyatta already being there, but eh, he could stay and watch the ship.

Angela straightened up slowly, locked the guidance system onto the largest (and therefore easiest to glide to) teammate, Reinhardt, and then took off, hearing Lúcio’s gasp and “Hey!” as she clipped him with a wing. Ana had dropped herself to the ground to avoid being hit.

Reinhardt looked surprised to see Angela barreling towards him, but he planted his feet and caught the winged medic in a bear hug.

Angela was confused at the reception (usually the team just let her land next to them), but then it became clear that Reinhardt wouldn’t let go. “Let me go!”

“No! You are not supposed to be here!”

Angela struggled to break the armored giant’s hold on her, trying to beat him with the staff.  “What the -? Did you ALL CONSPIRE AGAINST ME?!” Angela screamed.

Soldier:76 and Zenyatta caught the staff and were trying to pry it out of Angela’s grip. All the while Angela continued to scream, kick, and flail. Her throat felt like it was raw, and she was losing energy fast, but she was going on this mission!

“Angie, please! You look like death!”

“No, that’s your ex-boyfriend!”

“Dr. Ziegler, I do believe we should try to work together to cure your illness”

“I AM NOT SICK! GOTT IM HIMMEL, LET ME WORK!”

And that’s when she felt it. The sudden impact in her upper thigh. Dammit.

She turned her head to look back at Ana. Ana, who was being helped up by Lúcio, and holding a sleep dart gun in her other hand. An empty sleep dart gun.

Against her will, her hands loosened, and Soldier managed to pry her staff away.

Reinhardt slowly began to set her feet on the ground so he could shift his grip and carry her like a princess. She mumbled at him to mind the wings, they were delicate if smooshed the wrong way. 

As her eyes drooped and her head lolled against Reinhardt’s chest, she heard Ana quip, “Nap time!”

Angela knew she was in her bed before she opened her eyes. She could feel the soft material of her favorite blankets, the supportive firmness of her mattress, the lumpiness of her pillow (she needed to get a new one). Cracking one eye open, the sight of her room confirmed what she already knew. She was not in the medbay like she was supposed to be. The conditions there for sleeping were questionable at best. She had plenty of experience with the quality of the beds there. She frequently took naps there while working on projects. She should probably work on making them more comfortable, come to think of it.

With an internal sigh, she took stock of how she felt so she could start her day. Her head still felt stuffy with mucus in her sinuses but she had worked through worse. She couldn’t breathe through one nostril, but that’s why she had two, right? Her throat felt horrible, and she didn’t trust herself with the prospect of talking, but she could type out anything she needed to convey. All in all, she was able to work, with workarounds of course. Time to open the other eye and sit up. That sounded exhausting.

She had opened her eyes (when had she shut her eyes again? She couldn’t remember) and started to lever herself upright, when a mischievous voice rang out in the dim light. “And where do you think you are going little one?”

Ana, god dammit, why was she here?

Stopping in her struggle to sit upright, Angela turned her head to glare at Ana, who was sitting in a chair with a tablet and a small tea set on a table next to her. Her dart gun lay in her lap, very clearly reloaded.

“I know you, Angela. Already you are wanting to ignore the obvious and go back to work. I, however, think you need to rest a while longer. And judging by the large list of agents willing to guard your door to prevent you from leaving, I think I am not alone in this thinking.”

Angela took in this information while staring at the door. A thought entered her mind, and her head swiveled towards her window. Her window that led outside with a sizable ledge that she could easily use her Valkyrie suit to get down from.

Ana followed her gaze to the window and smiled even wider. “Ah, we thought about that too.” She set down her tablet, and called out, “Athena, open the curtains please.”

The curtains parted silently to reveal Bastion in turret form sitting on the ledge facing away from the window. His little bird companion flitted about with twigs in its beak trying to build a nest in the corner of her window. Ana knocked lightly on the window to get Bastion’s attention. Bastion’s form swiveled quickly and then paused, looking at Ana. Ana waved with a smile. Bastion chirped his greeting and waved his auto repair arm in return.

Ana turned back to face Angela with a full fledged grin.

“Athena, please shut the curtains.”

As the curtains closed, Bastion made a sad beep but turned to resume his watch.

“Now little one,” Ana set down the dart gun well away from Angela’s reach. “It’s time for you to sit up, drink some tea, and I will ask Mei to bring up some soup for you.”

Angela scowled.

“I am-“ She started, before her throat felt like fire and her hand flew to her neck in an irrational bid to keep the pain away.

“Ah ah ah~! No talking!” Ana chided. “You just need to rest and do as I say. Mother knows best after all!”

You’re not my mom, thought Angela bitterly, before a large pang of regret for even thinking badly of Ana’s mother hen tendencies.  Ana was not her mother, but she acted like one to so many both during her tenure at Overwatch and her sudden return with Jack “grumpy pants” Morrison.  She did it because she cared.

Resigned to her fate, Angela allowed herself to be propped up against a small stack of fluffed pillows, and accepted the tea cup Ana pushed into her hands without protest.

Ana smiled and she sat down with her own cup.

Peering over the edge of her cup, Ana quipped, “You shouldn’t try to lie to me anyway. I know you were going to say you were fine and all of this was unnecessary. But again,” Ana chuckled to herself, “Mother also knows all!”

Angela glared at her.

Chapter Text

After what felt like an eternity of sitting in horrible smug silence, drinking herbal tea with a horribly smug Ana, Angela wanted to run out of her room to the safety of her medbay, guards posted at her door or not.

Mei arrived with her infamous cold-busting soup in the middle of Angela wondering how much trouble she would be in if she threw her half-finished lukewarm tea in Ana's face and dashed out of the room.

Mei didn’t stay long, shyly explaining that she didn’t want to get sick, while gesturing to the white face mask over her nose and mouth. She also wished Angela to get well soon and hoped that Angela liked the soup (with extra peppers to clear the sinuses).

Angela managed to croak out a scratchy “thank you” before Mei nodded and headed out. Athena closed the door behind her with a soft swoosh.

Ana poured the soup out of the thermos and into a bowl and stirred it twice with a spoon before settling it in Angela’s lap.

“Now then,” Ana said as she sat down in her chair and pulled up her tablet. “You eat as much as you can of that, while I find us some entertainment!”

Angela was suspicious of Ana's sudden happy yet mischievous tone, but began to eat her soup with only a small grunt of displeasure.

And oh GOD.

She was so glad she couldn’t really fully taste the soup. Even the small amount of flavor and heat that made it through her clogged sinuses and taste buds was making her nose drip like a leaky faucet.

Reaching her free hand towards her nightstand, she pulled some tissues and immediately tried to stem the leaking mucus.

“I’ll have to tell Mei that her soup really works,” Ana noted as she kept playing with the tablet.

Angela swallowed her second spoonful of soup and opened her mouth to tell Ana to (politely) fuck off, she didn’t need any of this, but Ana visibly brightened at whatever was on her tablet screen. “Aha! Here, I think you will appreciate this!”

Positioning the tablet so both she and Angela could see it, Ana winked and turned up the volume.

“The soup is your dinner, and here is the show!”

The cameras in the hallways were always running. It was a matter of security, argued Winston, Soldier: 76 and Torbjörn, who were always practical and security minded.

It was a matter of privacy and lack of trust to watch everyone’s every move argued Lucio, Hanzo and McCree who had all been burned by people and organizations who used information like weapons.

It was a matter of perfectly useful ways to play pranks and keep juicy gossip going said Hana, Genji and Ana, who loved pranking people and interfering with other people’s lives.

The cameras said nothing about it, and neither did Athena, who was connected to them. They were like her eyes, so she didn’t want to add to the argument, lest she say something wrong and get them shut off.

Athena liked being able to keep an eye on everyone on base. Highly developed AI or not, she found the act of tracking all of the agents movements and relative health signatures soothing. That would probably come across as horrifically creepy and invasive to the agents in question. Even Winston had spoken to her about her “nagging” to exercise more.

They didn’t understand. She couldn’t have a family. Not like them. She didn’t even have a physical body in the traditional sense, at least the omnic agents had that at least. This was as close to showing affection and being a part of a family as she could get.

So she kept silent about her cameras and what they picked up. However, even she didn’t want to deal with or even know how to deal with some of the things she “saw”.

In those cases, she would fall back onto a protocol that allowed her to share information she found/observed so that an agent could decide the best course of action.

Typically, Athena liked to share her newly found information (wanted or not) with whomever she thought would find it most useful, or most enjoyable.

In this instance, she knew that Ana would get a kick out of this, and if it entertained the currently out of commission doctor, well. Two birds, one stone and all that.

Besides, maybe they would rescue agent Symmetra from her predicament. Or just laugh hysterically. One of the two.

Satya had been the first to volunteer to watch Dr. Ziegler’s door. She wanted – no NEEDED – the doctor to get back on her feet as soon as possible. Dr. Ziegler was one of the last sane people on this base, Satya felt. She needed all the sane people to stay healthy and sane for her own health and sanity.

Hanzo had come to relieve her of her duty after three hours, but Satya had no intentions of leaving. Hanzo was mostly sane, there were definitely aspects of him that fell into the “are you fucking kidding me?!” category. So as long as he didn’t start acting strange, Satya was more than happy to be in his presence.

When Satya had politely declined leaving her post, Hanzo suggested that they keep watch together. This was most agreeable.

He had gone back to the kitchen and made two small pots of tea with two cups, one for her and one for him. Meanwhile, Satya had made another hard light chair for Hanzo to sit upon and a table so they could share the tea.

The first hour of Hanzo's watch went peacefully. While there were obvious differences between them, he and Satya got along fairly well. They talked of many subjects, but mathematics was one that they kept circling back to.

But then McCree showed up, midway into the second hour.

Satya liked Hanzo. Satya tolerated McCree. Satya did not understand Hanzo when McCree was around, and she really didn’t understand McCree most of the time, but she understood him even less when he was around Hanzo.

Were they flirting? Just poking fun at each other? Was this some sort of male bonding? Whatever the hell it was, she wanted nothing to do with it, and didn’t want to witness it either. Her poor brain could only handle so much nonsense per day.

The sound of spurs jangling heralded the arrival of the cowboy. Satya swore that she could hear him from halfway across the base sometimes when he wore them.

The sight of McCree dressed in casual clothes, but with the spurs and hat (and belt, oh god that belt) made Satya heave an internal sigh.

She made a tiny audible sigh when she spotted what he was carrying, a pitcher filled with ice and an amber brown liquid. Along with a tall clear glass filled with the same.

Hanzo, however, had straightened up and perked up at the sight of McCree with his… “tea”.

“Well, hello! I heard y’all were having a tea party! So I brought some of my own, and thought well...” McCree shrugged and gave a roguish smile.

Satya knew that he basically wanted to invite himself to their perfectly normal conversation, and knew that the friendly response would be to say “Of course! I will make you another chair and make the table bigger! The more the merrier!” She couldn’t make herself do it, though. So she went with option two: hope to whatever deities were listening that Hanzo would somehow not act weird and tell McCree to get lost.

In hindsight, she’s not sure why she ever thought that would happen.

“We are not having a tea party; we are watching over Dr. Ziegler. However, I must say I have heard much of your infamous… iced tea.”

Oh, that had started so strong, but why did Hanzo give him the opportunity to continue the conversation?! He could make other agents leave with just a look, so why was he letting this continue?!

And continue the conversation McCree did, with a wide grin and a swagger closer. “Well, now, that makes me wonder if it’s good things or bad things you’ve heard. I hope it’s alllll good.”

Was that flirting? Satya felt like that was flirting. She was right here!

“That depends on what you consider good, McCree.”

“Ha ha, fair enough, Shimada!”

McCree had finally gotten close enough to try to set his pitcher and glass on the table, but there was barely any room for them.

Hanzo stood up and picked up the tea tray, while giving a look at Satya. She knew what that look meant. Hanzo was good at giving looks. Usually they were “leave before I reconsider my vow of never touching a blade again”. This one was very obviously “please make the table bigger for McCree and make him a chair too”.

Satya huffed and did it while shooting McCree a glare. Maybe he would get the hint and keep silent.

No such luck. She was never that lucky.

“Why thank you, Miss Vaswani! Mighty kind.” McCree shuffled the tea pots and cups on the table to fit his own pitcher and glass onto the larger table.

She gave a strained smile in return. Silence reigned for a few beats before McCree opened his mouth again.

“So uh, how is y'alls tea?”

Hanzo gave a small smile. “I have made a pot of Satya’s own chai mix for her and a pot of Genmaicha for myself. As such they are excellent. “

“Yeah, I’m sure that you are pretty dang good at making tea there, Shimada. But uh… how do they taste? I’m assumin’ that they are pretty good right? With uh… good floral notes and smoky undertones and stuff?”

As much as those were good ways to describe different flavors of tea, Satya got the distinct impression that Mccree had gotten those phrases from a wine tasting guide.

Hanzo seemed to take it in stride. Wasn’t he annoyed with this stupid line of questions? Was this his version of flirting back? Letting the stupid slide?

“Yes cowboy, it does taste ‘pretty good’.  But before I go into that, what have you brought? I am unfamiliar with your version of … tea.”

Satya knew that was a lie, a horrible filthy lie. And this was why she didn’t understand Hanzo was like this sometimes.

McCree visibly brightened and sat up. “Aw shucks, mine ain’t nothing special! Just a few bags of Lipton set out in the sun while it steeped and then you add some honey and let sit in the refrigerator and then add ice and pour it and that’s all!”

Satya had visited the United States before and had the dubious “tea” in question. She and Hanzo had talked at length about how it was strange and not worth having again. Ever.

“Hmmm, I see.”

Well at least Hanzo wasn’t volunteering to have some again, so whatever bout of stupid had taken over apparently wasn’t enough to completely fry his brain.

“Would you like to try some?” offered McCree with a small smile.

Oh fuck no.

Chapter Text

Angela wasn’t sure what the hell she was watching. Was McCree trying to bond with Satya and Hanzo… over tea?

Satya looked uncomfortable for the most part, punctuated with moments of sheer confusion. Hanzo seemed like his usual grumpy self but somehow less so. Angela wasn’t sure why she felt that way about Hanzo’s demeanor. Possibly it was just the fact that he hadn’t told McCree to leave yet.

Speaking of McCree, he seemed like his usual friendly self, but somehow more so.

Angela snuck a glance at Ana. The older woman was watching the screen with a constant smirk and gleam in her remaining eye.

Feeling bolder, Angela took a better look at Ana as she ate another spoonful of soup. Ana didn’t seem to notice, completely engrossed in the situation unfolding on the screen.

“This is like a day time TV show to you!” Angela croaked out.

Ana turned to her with a border line manic grin. “There’s a betting pool going on and I intend to collect.”

“Betting po-“ was all Angela managed before succumbing to a coughing fit again.

“Drink this.” Ana handed her a refilled cup of tea. “Yes, a betting pool. So far the pot is $203.57 USD.”

Angela gave her a look.

“The exchange rates don’t make the end pot pretty mathematically speaking.”

Angela sipped her tea and glared over the rim of the cup.

“Ahhh, you meant why the betting pool. Because it’s fun and a mystery and the opportunity to embarrass McCree is something I will never pass up.”

“He looks up to you like a mother!” God, this tea had helped Angela’s poor sore throat so much.

Ana grinned widely. “I would never harm McCree or his ego maliciously, my dear. But I think you will find that mothers are among the first to laugh at their offspring’s antics; blood related or not!”

Having never had children (or really wanted them) Angela didn’t feel like she could argue the point.

“What about Satya?”

“What about her?”

Angela jabbed a finger at the screen.

Satya had apparently been coaxed/guilt tripped/ peer pressured into trying McCree’s tea. She also looked like she was about 30 seconds away from having her internal screaming become external screaming.

Ana had the good grace to look chastised. “Ah I see what you mean. I’ll rescue her in a minute. But first, are you done with your soup and tea?”

“Yes thank you.” Angela handed the soup bowl and tea cup back to Ana.

“Good, good.” Ana set them aside on her table. Angela narrowed her eyes as she noticed Ana was hiding one hand in her large coat.

“Then you need to get more rest.”

Angela’s eyes widened as Ana pulled out her dart gun.

Verdammt!!

Ana was not there when Angela woke up again. Satya was there in her place, reading a book, with a pot of fresh tea on the side table.

Maybe it was just the slight grogginess from waking up but Angela swore that Satya looked…a bit....  disheveled. Well, as disheveled as Satya ever was minus a few extreme situations (finding out about Vishkar’s less than savory secret dealings had reduced her to a mess, but that was understandable).

It wasn’t like the Vishkar bomb level of disheveled either. It was small things, like how Satya’s normally picture perfect hair was slightly frizzy and bunched up under her headpiece. Her eyes had slight bags and dark discoloring underneath. Either she hadn’t bothered with makeup or she had given up trying to hide it. Her posture wasn’t quite the image of perfection either. It was almost imperceptible, but she was hunched over just a tiny bit. Her clothes were wrinkled too, normally even her causal outfits were spotless and pressed to an inch of their life.

So when Angela finally sat up in her bed and attracted Satya’s attention from her book, Angela was not surprised to hear Satya’s mumbled “good morning” instead of her normal clear articulated greeting.

“How long have you been here?” Angela’s throat was feeling much better, and she hoped that the tea in the pot had enough for both her and Satya.

“Only an hour,” Satya yawned, “I was supposed to come later but I couldn’t sleep and Miss Oxton was deemed too noisy to watch over you. So I switched with her.”

“Lena is very noisy, I will grant you that.” Angela fiddled with her bedsheets, wondering how the normally pristine Satya became this slightly rumpled person in front of her. “May I have some tea?”

Angela swore that Satya flinched when she said the word “tea”, but Satya nodded and started to pour a cup of tea.

After muttering her thanks and taking a sip, Angela pondered how to ask her next question. Sometimes the best way to ask Satya a question was to be direct.

“Satya?”

“Mmm?”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Satya set down her book and looked at Angela with an unseeing stare. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she haltingly started, “I dreamt that I was a little girl at a large table full of teapots and cups… and… McCree was there, wearing a large tall hat. He kept serving me tea, but it was… it was…”

Concerned, Angela reached out towards Satya with one hand. “Are you-“

“It was his iced tea! And Hanzo was there! In brown bunny ears! And I opened a tea pot and there was a tiny Torbjörn asleep inside! I nearly drank tea made from a hairy, filthy, disgusting man!” And with that outburst finally released, Satya folded in on herself and put her hands over her eyes.

Angela had drawn her hand back when Satya had started yelling, but now she reached out again and patted Satya’s shoulder gently, “There, there. It was just a dream.”

A very muffled “Thank you Dr. Ziegler” came from Satya, but she kept her same position.

 “I… need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back,” Angela gently said as she removed her hand from Satya’s shoulder.

Satya kept her face in her hands but nodded minutely.

Luckily Angela had snagged one of the officers’ old rooms so she had a (tiny) attached bathroom. It was nothing more than a (tiny) sink, a (tiny) toilet, and a (tiny) shower stall, but it beat the communal showers and restrooms.

Once inside, Angela took care of her business. She hadn’t realized how awful she looked until she looked at herself in the mirror. God, her hair was a mess, she had slight bags under eyes, and her skin color was paler than usual.

After she took a moment to regroup from her initial surprise at her own reflection, Angela called up quietly to the ceiling, just above a whisper.

“Athena? Athena? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Dr. Ziegler, I can hear you.”

“Shhh, not so loud!”

“I apologize, Doctor. Is this a more acceptable volume?”

“Yes. I need you to do us all a favor.”

“I feel the need to remind you, Doctor, that I am only permitted to be called upon in restroom and other designated ‘private’ areas for emergencies. I do not even have cameras in these areas, and my audio capabilities are only switched on after being called upon.”

“Yes, yes, but this favor will prevent there from being an emergency.”

Athena paused, as if weighing the statement. “Very well, Doctor. What is the ‘favor’?”

“I need you to tell everyone to not mention tea or rabbits or anything else Alice in Wonderland related to Satya for the next few hours. Well, maybe days, depending.”

Athena gave an even longer pause. “As you wish, Doctor… Is that all?”

“No, I need one more favor to prevent an emergency. Now, can you tell me where Ana is?”

“She is currently asleep. Shall I wake her?”

“No! No. Where does she store her sleep darts?”

Athena paused. “What do you plan to do, Doctor?”

“She is NOT supposed to have sleep darts that are slow acting and long lasting. I am already beyond livid that she has modified my biotic nanites for her sniper rifle and grenades. I draw the line at being humiliated in such a manner! I’m going to destroy them and then hide the ones she uses for combat until she apologizes!”

Angela’s voice had steadily risen through her tirade from just above a whisper to just under shouting.

Athena, however, being a sassy AI with processors devoted solely to trolling people, continued to whisper. “I thought we were supposed to be quiet, Dr. Ziegler, although I am not sure why.”

Angela seethed with anger and opened her mouth to let Athena know where she could stick that sass, when there was a set of curt knocks at the door.

“Dr. Ziegler? Are you alright?” Came Satya’s concerned voice from the other side of the door.

Angela threw a glare at the ceiling and replied through gritted teeth. “Yes, I’m fine, just a coughing fit.”

Silence reigned for a bit before Satya’s incredulous voice floated through the door again. “If you say so…”

Angela forced herself to put on her best smile and opened the door to a suspicious looking, if still a bit rumpled, Satya.

Awkward silence reigned again for a few beats before Angela blurted out. “Can I have some more tea?”

Satya flinched again.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as well as the day after that. Angela had buckets worth of various types of tea and several bowls of soup (thankfully Morrison took over for Mei for soup duty. As her sense of smell and taste came back, Angela started having trouble with the heat of Mei’s soup. Jack “salt is a spice” Morrison made a suitably bland chicken noodle soup.)

Ana had somehow gotten wind of Angela’s desire to get rid of the modified sleep darts and had decided to steer clear. Angela wasn’t sure if Athena or Satya had let that slip, but either way the elderly sniper had disappeared and no one knew where she went.

(Angela was pretty sure that Ana was hiding in Reinhardt’s room. But she didn’t have the heart to call him out on it. Also, Athena refused to let her into his room to check.)

She still had some sniffles but she felt much better. No sore throat, no aches, and her desire to strangle Ana gradually waned. Lúcio was hesitant to clear her for active duty, but he agreed that she was fit enough to work in the med bay. (Angela had threatened to lock him in a room with the still twitchy Satya if he didn’t at least allow her to do that.)

After what felt like an eternity since the whole sickness fiasco started, Angela finally got to sit down in her chair, in front of her computer, in her med bay with a coffee in her favorite mug.

She opened her email and saw that her inbox had an influx of over 100 messages. She decided to make an email to send out to everyone on base before she tackled the inbox.

After spending an hour drafting, rereading, rewriting, and then trashing several versions of the email, Angela gave up. Some drafts were too nice, others too harsh. Angela really needed to strike the right tone of grateful for the concern about her health, but also put the fear of God unto anyone who dared try that shit again. “Writing is hard,” Angela internally sighed.

Turning her attention to her inbox, Angela noticed one of the emails from the day when she first got darted by the still-in-hiding Ana was from an unlikely source. Dr. Moira O’Deorain.

Moira and Angela had a …difficult relationship. Both professionally and personally. Not romantically though. Moira seemed to be the type that would marry her work if she could. Angela wasn’t much better, to be perfectly honest. But they had been almost friends once. Once…

Angela didn’t like to think about it and she suspected that Moira didn’t like to think about it either. But at the heart of it… they had worked well together for the few projects they were on. And they both were pushing the envelope of modern medicine. And when Moira wasn’t dancing on the line of ethics, Angela could appreciate her work.

Still, Moira was affiliated with Talon. She was an enemy. But she had never gotten in touch unless it was dire or to recommend a new patient to her. And the message was sent through her Oasis ministry email, which was usually the way Moira recommended patients to her.

So mentally crossing her fingers, Angela opened the email and began to read.

Dear Dr. Ziegler,

A little purple birdie told me that you were not feeling well. My condolences. Might I suggest that you don’t fight the inevitable, and try resting for a change? Or perhaps I should suggest the opposite, and then when you go against my thinking like you normally do, it will actually be beneficial.

No matter, I’m sure you will be back to telling people how to live their lives in no time. Our guardian angel always knows best.

On a related note, I was going to send you a new curious creature that I have come into possession recently, but with you ill, I don’t trust your colleagues to safely deliver it to you if they got to it first. I think it would help you with your side of our shared research project.

Please let me know when you will be available to pick it up. I will be unavailable this next weekend, but the weekend after should fine.

Yours truly,

 Dr. Moira O’Deorain

Minister of Genetics, Oasis

P.S. Purple birdie wants to put down 200 pesos in the betting pool towards the cowboy making an ass of himself and getting punched in the dick before the end of the year.

P.P.S. Put me down for 150 Euro on the cowboy finding out about the betting pool and figuring out how to game the system so he gets the whole pot.

P.P.P.S. I’ve saved the video of you getting darted into my phone and play it every time I need a laugh. Just thought you should know. :o)

Angela had forgotten how much of a goddamn TROLL Moira could be! She could just hear the condescending and smug tone of voice as she reread the email. And what the HELL was Moira trying to give her?! “A curious new creature”? Where the hell did she get it? Oh god. What if she MADE it?! Maybe taking the creature would be a mercy…

Moira always did manage to give her a headache, even on the best of days. Angela decided to deal with that situation later.

Speaking of situations, Sombra (the “purple birdie” Moira spoke of) also was a source of headaches. As much as her hacking of Athena was always somewhat troubling, she never seemed to do anything with it. Well, nothing important anyway. She’d troll and annoy people and make gestures that conveyed her glee at having more information about the agents, but she never compromised missions as far as anyone could tell. Her hacking of Athena was almost always quick in-and-out excursions, too. Get in, get the info, get out, then gloat.

 Angela would let Winston know about it, but he’d probably just groan and shake his head. It had happened so much and with such little consequences that even he and Athena weren’t terribly bothered by it anymore.

As she got up, Angela pondered if she should also talk to Ana about the betting pool. Sombra struck her as the kind of person who took betting pools very seriously, even if she was on the enemy team. Moira would definitely torment them if they didn’t take her bet seriously.

Angela grabbed her coffee cup (“Self Medicating” emblazoned on the side) and started towards the door. Right as she got to it however, it opened on its own.

Genji and McCree stumbled in with matching sheepish smiles. McCree was heavily leaning on Genji favoring his right leg. It looked like there was a shuriken embedded in his calf.

“Hi Ang! Uh, are you open for business again?”

Angela sighed and got to work. Life was back to normal.