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Widow did not learn who Baptiste was until she had been at Talon for about a year. She imagined that was deliberate. Talon would not want the woman they had brainwashed into their ranks knowing it was possible to leave them and survive. They wouldn’t want any Talon operatives knowing that, certainly, but especially not the weapon they had so carefully designed.
But people still knew about Baptiste, friends of his, people who had fought with him, people whose lives he had saved. People still talked about him. Moreover, Talon still sent people after him. And that was how Widow learned about him. She was in the armory cleaning her rifle, and Mayer and some other agents wandered in.
“Tiller’s not going to be back for months,” Mayer was saying. “If he comes back at all. I mean, Baptiste killed Cuerva, right?”
“He never liked killing,” Durand said. Widow poked her rag in one of the rivets of her gun.
“Yeah, but he did it. And if he didn’t kill Cuerva, where is she?” There was a murmur of assent from the group. Out of the corner of her eye, Widow caught a flurry of movement as Mayer gestured toward her. “You think they’ll ever send her after him?”
“Dunno,” someone else said, a voice Widow had never heard before and refused to look at now. “He was a good shot. They might not want to risk it.”
“He was a good shot, for a medic,” Durand corrected. “She’s got to be better.”
“In any case,” Mayer said. “This is the first time we’ve had the slightest hint of a trail in years. And it’s going to be gone as soon as Tiller fails. So I doubt they’ll even get the chance.” Then their conversation moved on to something mind-numbingly mundane. Widow put down her half-cleaned rifle and left, without acknowledging them.
Sombra’s eyes sparkled the next day, when Widow dropped the name over lunch. In retrospect, it should have been telling that Widow hadn’t learned about Baptiste from Sombra. Sombra loved gossiping about everything else, even when Widow had no gossip to offer in exchange, even when Widow had no idea what Sombra was gaining from her company. Sombra knew about Baptiste, so Sombra would have told Widow about Baptiste, had there not been intervening circumstances.
But that didn’t occur to Widow at the time. Not when Sombra had that half smile on her face, and leaned in across the table like she was doling out a closely held secret, just for Widow.
“He was a Talon medic,” Sombra told her. “Deserted a few years back. Talon sent a whole team after him, and they all disappeared.”
“He had accomplices, then?”
“Doubt it,” Sombra said. “They just went after him on Haiti, and that was his home turf. And he was a tough dude. He could have definitely taken them out on his own.”
Widow cocked her head. “Did you know him?”
“We met,” Sombra said. Then she immediately grabbed a handful of her fries, dropped them on Widow’s plate, and said, “They don’t give you enough food. Take ‘em.”
In retrospect, that kind of evasion should have been telling. But that sort of thing never seemed to occur to Widow, not when Sombra was being kind to her.
Sombra did not tell Widow about Baptiste then. Sombra did not tell Widow about Baptiste for quite some time, not until they had been dating for nearly a year. And even then, Sombra didn’t tell Widow about Baptiste herself. Widow found out in an embarrassingly cliche way. Sombra was in the shower and had left her holovid on the bed. It buzzed, Widow glanced over at it out of habit, and froze when she saw the contact name “Baptiste” on the screen.
She was almost angrier at Sombra for letting her find out. Sombra was a lesbian, Baptiste wasn’t an indication that she was betraying their relationship. And she knew Sombra had secrets.
But Sombra was usually so thoughtful with her secrets, was the thing, so careful to keep her shadowy agenda and what the two of them shared separate. For her to let Widow see this, for her to force them into a position where they would have to discuss their differing allegiances, that seemed more callous on Sombra’s part than the lying.
Widow set the holovid at the foot of the bed, pulled the sheet up around her, and waited. Sombra saw it as soon as she exited the bathroom, her hair still wet and dripping. She looked quizzical until she tapped the screen, and then her face fell. She sat at the foot of the bed and sighed.
“I’m sorry, Widow,” she said. Widow was tempted to make her say what she was sorry for.
But she didn’t. Instead, she asked, “Is he working against Talon?”
“No,” Sombra said immediately. Then she paused, as though she also needed to determine whether or not her answer was a lie. “He’s not going to let a Talon agent capture him,” she said after a moment. “And if he’s doing medic work in a place Talon’s organizing in, I can see him helping people fight Talon there. But he’s not seeking out a fight, no.”
Widow nodded, her shoulders relaxing somewhat. That made things a bit easier. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, then?”
Sombra raised an eyebrow. “He’s still a fugitive from Talon. Any information regarding his status must be reported to the Council. Kind of thought you would just… not want to know.”
Sombra was correct, but Widow didn’t feel like admitting that right now. “I don’t want him to be captured,” she told Sombra instead, loosing a secret of her own. This one made Sombra’s jaw drop a little, and Widow enjoyed that, enjoyed how powerful the little secrets she kept were. “If I ever did want to leave Talon, knowing someone’s out there would be very helpful.”
“I can get you out of Talon if you want,” Sombra said.
“I don’t want to leave. I like Talon. But knowing that I have a choice there is… good.”
Sombra studied her for a moment, then nodded. She no longer seemed shocked by Widow’s secret which was irritating, because Widow now felt unnerved by her own admission. The two of them sat in silence, Sombra still at the edge of the bed, before Widow spoke again.
“I want to meet him,” she said. Sombra’s brow creased and Widow folded her arms. “You’re asking me to trust you on this, but you can’t trust me on this?”
Sombra took her to meet Baptiste. He must have been warned ahead of time, because Widow saw his sidearm as they approached his table, situated in a quite crowded restaurant on an exceedingly busy street. Sombra must not have told Baptiste much about her, Widow thought, bemused, if he thought the possibility of civilian collateral would dissuade her from a kill.
“Lacroix,” he said. Sombra coughed. Baptiste didn’t react. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“Finally,” Widow repeated. She looked over at Sombra but Sombra was already seated and thoroughly engrossed in her menu, too concerned with potential entrees to mediate this introduction.
“Sombra told me she had a girlfriend. But she didn’t tell me much about her. I can see why, now.”
“Is there a problem?” Widow asked. Sombra looked up from her menu.
“I don’t have a problem,” Baptiste said evenly. “Do you?”
“No,” Widow said. The two of them stared at each other and Widow was vaguely aware of Sombra looking between them, and then of the waitress dropping off waters for the table.
“Well then,” Baptiste said finally. “It sounds as though there are no problems.” He opened his menu definitively, and Sombra audibly sighed. Widow smiled.
It was a pleasant enough lunch, because Baptiste was a pleasant man. With just the knowledge that he was a medic and had escaped Talon, Widow had built him into some kind of exceedingly heroic figure, the most upright, boring kind. But Baptiste drank a sugary, dyed cocktail over their lunch. He told dry, cutting stories about mercenaries he had met. He teased Sombra about her footwear. He made Widow laugh. And there weren’t many people who could do that anymore.
“I like him,” Widow said to Sombra as they left. Their arms were linked and Sombra leaned against her and hummed.
“So you won’t kill him, then?”
“I make no promises.” Sombra didn’t seem to need to even look at her to find the truth there, she just laughed and let Widow lead them down the crowded street.
Baptiste must have known too. Because he began inviting Widow along to meetings with Sombra. Widow was suddenly privy to a chunk of the secretive trips Sombra took, and it turned out they were just to restaurants and bars around the globe, or even just warm beer in a mobile home behind a clinic.
“Your girlfriend’s funny,” Baptiste told Sombra one of those early meetings. “I can see why you keep her around.” Sombra had laughed.
“Glad you get it now,” Sombra had said. And Widow had just smiled, unsure how to talk about the fact that she had clearly been talked about. The other two moved on from that fairly quickly though, to topics Widow was much more comfortable being funny about.
Widow could never tell Sombra this, but there were days where she almost told. Because the whole thing seemed so terrifyingly fragile: all it would take is Akande glancing in their direction, or a Talon agent coming for Baptiste at the wrong moment, and both Widow and Sombra would be in danger. Akande had been pushing for her reduced conditioning but he wouldn’t do that if he knew she were fraternizing with a defector, she was fairly sure. And she and Sombra would certainly be done. It seemed like so much risk, for a friend.
But Sombra never seemed scared. That was what Widow leaned on, every time she thought things were falling apart. Sombra always had a plan. And so as long as Sombra wasn’t scared, Widow didn’t have to be.
One night, when they were at a bar and Sombra had gone to get them drinks, Baptiste had said to Widow, “You’re lucky to have her, you know.”
“I know,” Widow said. He nodded.
“As long as you know.” And then they sat silently, but not uncomfortably, until Sombra came back with shots.
Soon after that, Baptiste was given a temporary home, and he invited the two of them. It was a tiny town in the Southwestern United States, and the house’s previous occupants had been run out by the gang activity there. But Baptiste had come in to provide medical services, and the remaining people were grateful. So they gave him the nice, spacious house, and the three of them dined on the big oak dining table on nice china.
It was over that dinner Baptiste let slip the name “Genji.” He caught Sombra’s immediate and smug smile and he groaned.
“How long have you known?”
“Two months. I keep tabs on ex-Overwatch, you know. Why, how long have you two been dating?”
“Two months.” Baptiste stabbed petulantly at his salad with his fork. “But I don’t think it’ll be much longer.”
Sombra frowned. “What? Why not?”
“He travels, I travel–”
“So travel together.”
“I have a Talon bounty on my head, I don’t want to put him in danger–”
“You’ve been surviving on your own. I think the two of you together can more than handle it.” Baptiste said nothing and Sombra sighed. “This has happened with every guy you’ve been with since you left Talon,” she said. “You’re going to have to figure out a way to make this work sometime.” Baptiste laughed self-consciously. Widow raised an eyebrow.
“You’re right. But I don’t think it’s going to be here. By the way,” he said, leaning across the table. “You won’t believe some of the Reyes stories he has.”
“Try me,” Sombra said, grinning. The conversation swiftly turned to gossip. And it wasn’t that Widow didn’t enjoy hearing about how Reyes read thick fantasy novels on mission flights. But Baptiste’s quick turn stuck in her mind.
Sombra went to bed late and slept in late. Widow rose early, no matter what, and it seemed Baptiste did too. She found him on the porch, sitting on a wicker chair, his scarf wrapped around him to ward off the morning chill. Nighttime insects were still buzzing and the sparse grass shone with dew.
“Good morning,” Baptiste said.
“Good morning,” Widow said. She stood by the door. She could make small talk, but she wasn’t particularly good at that now, and she didn’t particularly want to. “You’re going to break up with your boyfriend,” she said instead.
Baptiste blinked up at her. “I don’t want to. But I think I have to.”
“No you don’t,” Widow said. “You could try to make it work. You should try to make it work. You’re lucky to have him.”
“I know,” Baptiste said. He looked down at the porch. His voice was hoarse. Widow sat down on the chair beside him.
“That’s not enough.” He stiffened but didn’t look at her. “Why did you even leave Talon?”
“Because it was the right thing to do,” he said. Widow laughed. “Really. That’s why. I’m not judging your decisions–”
“I’m sure you are.”
“Well, I’m aware you don’t care what I think of them.” Widow snorted and nodded. “I was orphaned and I grew up in desperate, horrible circumstances. And I saw myself creating that all over again, for new kids. I knew I had to break the cycle. I knew I had to do something to give them a better life than I had.”
“That’s very pretty,” Widow said. “And I’m sure you also did it because you were tired of Talon telling you what to do all the time, controlling everything you did.”
Baptiste rested his chin on his hand. “Talon gave me more freedom than I had before,” he said. He was speaking like he was explaining something to a small child. Widow bristled. “They gave me money, when I had never had any before. Money buys a lot of freedom. For myself, and for my home.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because it was the right thing to do,” he repeated. “You can choose to believe it or not. But it’s true.”
“Okay, you’re telling the truth,” Widow said. “You were really and purely motivated by some bleeding heart. But the end result is still the same. You’re a free agent, and I’m not. And it’s not like that,” she added, rolling her eyes when Baptiste’s expression turned concerned. “I don’t want to leave Talon. I like my life with them. But that’s the thing, isn’t it. I have a girlfriend in Talon. But you can’t make things work with Shimada?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“You’re right. It’s simpler than that. You’re just afraid of getting too attached to him, and so you’re making excuses to run.”
Baptiste closed his eyes. “I’ve lost so many people,” he said quietly. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I suppose I don’t,” Widow said. “But I understand excuses. Especially about this.”
Baptiste’s eyes snapped open and he glared at Widow. “You’re not leaving Sombra.”
“No, I’m not. Relax.” Widow stood up. “I got over it,” she said as she headed back to the door. “So I know you can too.”
“You really are lucky to have her,” Baptiste said. Widow stopped and looked back at him. “I’m not saying that to punish you. I’m saying that because she’s my friend, and I look out for my friends.”
“We’re not friends?” Widow asked innocently. Baptiste tilted his head up and smiled.
“Me telling you that, Widow? That’s me looking out for you, too.”
Widow laughed, then he laughed. She slid open the door and left him on the porch, slicing off the sound of cicadas as she shut the door behind her.
Soon after, when the two of them were back in Venice, Sombra came home wrapping up a call. “Later, loser,” she said, and hung up. Widow smiled as she walked towards her.
“Baptiste?”
“Yeah. And you’ll never believe what he said.” Sombra pressed a kiss to her cheek and wound her arms around her waist. “He’s going to try to make things work with Genji.”
“Oh,” Widow said. “That’s good.”
“And he said to say thank you to you, for that.” Sombra booped her nose. “Look at you, Widow! Miss ‘A spider’s heart never beats’ is a damn good couple’s therapist.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Widow said, averting her gaze. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sombra said, and kissed her again. “You did good, Widow. Thank you for helping him, really. It means a lot to me too.”
“Stop.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Widow murmured. And Sombra pulled back from her and laughed.
“Widow,” she said, her expression some mixture of mirth and concern. “What kind of bullshit is that.”
“I’m lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have you too.”
“No, you don’t understand–”
“Yeah I do,” Sombra said. She drew closer to her again, pushing the hair from her eyes. “You need to trust me, okay Widow? I love you.”
Then she froze, and Widow froze. They watched each other, and Widow prayed that Sombra knew the next step to take after this, but Sombra wasn’t saying anything. Sombra’s face was twisted and her eyes were wide. Widow didn’t know if she loved Sombra, doubted Sombra would believe her if she said it now, didn’t know what Sombra wanted, what Sombra needed–
“My life is better when you’re in it,” Widow said. Sombra blinked. “Not just when you’re in it, when I’m– with you. Knowing you’re with me is comforting, or it makes me happy or– something.” She rubbed her face, frustrated. “I just know I like it when we’re on the same team like this. And if I lost that, my life would be so much worse. That’s what I mean, when I say I’m lucky to have you. No one else makes me feel like you make me feel.”
The right answer was I love you too and Widow could not give Sombra that. But Sombra leaned up and kissed her like she had, softly and deeply. Because Widow was truly, incomprehensibly lucky.