Work Text:
Amelie quietly looked out the window of the Overwatch main lounge room in Gibraltar, or as the other members like to call it, the game room.
Most of the agents are out on missions, leaving her in an empty room with a cup of coffee that’s been cold for an hour now, just waiting for a special someone to walk in. If anyone would’ve told her, she would’ve fallen for the spikey haired Brit and lived in the main Overwatch base, she would’ve laughed bitterly in their face.
Who would’ve known she would’ve been kidnapped from Talon, then rehabilitated to being able to feel, even when she isn’t killing. Amelie’s blue hue is nearly gone, apart from her hands and feet. Dr. Ziegler, or Mercy, assured her with time, the color will disappear in the next few years.
“Hiya love!” The lovely cockney accent sang out.
Amelie turned to see her girlfriend in her usual brown aviator jacket with a black beanie that has the Overwatch logo on it and jeans instead of those obnoxious yellow leggings.
The short Brit held out a box, the ex-assassin noticed the slight shake in the smaller woman’s hands, but said nothing yet.
Amelie opened the box and held out a pair of handmade mittens with her initials on them. She knew her clumsy girlfriend couldn’t do it on her own, but it’s sweet.
“Come on! There’s more!” Tracer snatched her girlfriend’s hand and dragged her across the base to the outdoor training facility.
Amelie’s eyes lit up at the sight of hundreds of ice sculptures decorating the area, she’s never seen anything like it. The French woman felt a weight in her hands, she looks down and sees a mug of hot eggnog, she takes a long sip.
Spiked eggnog.
Together they walk hand in hand through the area of ice sculptures.
“Merry Christmas love.”