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Spring
“I told him he shouldn’t have eaten that sushi. It was out on the counter all day. But did he listen?” Wraith growled as she trudged through the dropship. Her heavy footfalls were lost among the drone of the dozens of other competitors making ready for the games.
“No he didn’t! And now he is very sick. I think he should listen to you more Wraith.” Pathfinder said. His cheerfulness could not be dulled even by the loss of their third squad member in a crucial qualifying match.
“If you can convince him to do that, I’ll…I don’t know I’ll get you a puppy for something Path. Anyways, who did we get filled in with?”
“Our new teammate is Wattson. This is very exciting since she designed the Ring. Do you think she knows secrets about it? I heard she is very nice, just like you and Mirage!”
Wraith held her tongue. Wattson was brand new and rumor was she only got to be a Legend due to her connections with the Syndicate. A couple bad matches had Wraith’s squad dangerously close to failing to qualify for the Season Finals and that could not stand. As long as Wattson could shoot straight and listen it would be fine, she hoped.
“Oh! Bon jour madame Wraith and monsieur Pathfinder! I’m quite amped to compete with you today, get it?” Wattson smiled broadly and waved at her new team.
Perhaps like Mirage she hid talent behind an unassuming persona. As Wraith looked around at the assembled squads and found a high powered bunch. Whatever skills Wattson had, she’d have to bring all of them to the table.
“It’s time to show everyone why you deserve to be here, Wattson. There’s a lot of skeptical eyes on you but I hope you prove them wrong.” Wraith said.
The other woman’s face hardened away from friendliness. Her eyes narrowed. With a quick nod she mounted her massive pylon on her back and joined her new squadmates on the drop pad, ready for action.
“Path, ammo!” Wraith slid a box of shotgun ammo along the bunker floor. They were pinned down hard in Repulsor and rapidly draining their supplies. Buzzing electro-plasma fences kept their enemies outside for now but a seemingly endless barrage of grenades pummeled their hideaway.
“Cover me!” Wattson shouted as she slid down back into the bunker. She was back from a supply run but had her pylon hugged close to her chest.
Wraith and Pathfinder stood in the face of the gunfire and spent precious ammo keeping their enemy pinned down just long enough for the pylon to come online. Bothersome grenades burst in mid-air like little fireworks and a tingling sensation washed over Wraith. Her shields were coming back. And with Wattson dumping hundreds of rounds of rounds of ammo at her feet, the momentum of this fight had just swung entirely their way.
“Aren’t you the spark we needed? Come on, we’re pushing back.” Wraith summoned her squad and rushed out to face her foe. She was a whirlwind of R-99 fire and kunai slashes, cutting through the other squad under the cover of a pylon and some very accurate sniper fire. Behind the scope of her Longbow, Wattson felt she had found her new home
Summer
Bangalore went down the order list, tossing sandwiches to her fellow legends. A Cuban for Gibraltar, Caesar wrap to Lifeline, some 80 topping monstrosity to Octane, BLT for Mirage. For the brief bye week of the games they’d made their way to a private beach on Solace. It was hopefully the start of a new tradition thanks to Wattson’s suggestion. But as she got to the engineer’s order something was wrong.
“Ah hell, sorry Watts. Looks like they missed yours, give me ten and I’ll go back. Every time with these people, I swear.” Bangalore growled.
“Not a problem. I can share with Wraith.” Natalie said, taking both the skirmisher and Bangalore by surprise. The two had become fast friends which was an impressive feat given Wraith was about as extroverted as a rock. Bangalore chucked Wraith her buffalo wrap and vowed to get a refund either way.
Wattson sat down on Wraith’s towel, shielded from the sun by a large umbrella. The other woman burned easily and had no desire to go swimming. So even in the summer it was long pants and sleeves. That was a plus for Wattson. She’d forgotten her waterproof earplugs and would much rather lounge on the shore this time.
“I thought you didn’t like spicy food?” Wraith said while she carefully took her wrap out of the aluminum foil.
“You said this is not that hot so I can manage. And it is your favorite, I always like to try my friend’s favorite things.” Natalie said.
“How’d that work out with Pathfinder’s favorite motor oil?” Wraith chuckled and pulled her kunai out. The MRVN had in fact offered Wraith a glass of the stuff once though she had hopefully dissuaded him of that quirk. She made a clean cut through the sandwich.
“I used it to lubricate my pylon. It’s quite effective actually, he is quite smart about how to keep machines running smoothly. Which makes sense I suppose.” Natalie said as Wraith handed her half the wrap. She encased it back into foil to keep the sauces from running over her hands.
“I guess that’s true. He always means well even when he’s a little off the mark. Here.” Wraith passed over a water bottle she’d stored in the Void to keep it cool.
Wattson leaned against Wraith’s shoulder. A moment of tension gripped the skirmisher. Physical contact like this was still something to get used to, a new challenge to adapt to. But Wattson found comfort in touch. Their friendship was one of meeting in the middle: no hugs (yet) but small moments like this were allowed. Wraith’s shoulder relaxed. It was just Wattson, not a threat, in fact it was kind of nice.
“AH! It’s so hot! How do you eat this?” Wattson rasped with her mouth still half full of buffalo chicken. She downed half the water bottle and wiped tears from her eyes but Wraith struggled not to laugh. “It’s not funny!”
“Sorry, sorry. You have no tolerance for it, and your face is all red.” Wraith turned away as her friend playfully smacked her arm. “Okay, okay! You can trade with Mirage and if he says no, I’ll steal it from him.” Wraith said through laughter.
“You are lucky pretty girls can get away with being mean. But please get me another water that was - cough - very spicy.” Wattson finished off the one she’d been given and made her way to negotiate for a less intense lunch. But the compliment on her appearance didn’t slip by Wraith nor did it go unnoticed by the voices.
Fall
“How about this one?” Wraith lofted a pumpkin high into the air so Wattson could appraise it. But like all the others it was rejected. Too squat apparently. Somewhere in this patch had to be the perfect pumpkin.
The plan was to find one and carve a jack-o-lantern, something Wattson had grown up doing. Wraith on the other hand only knew of them from Mirage’s abstract attempts at carving a face into pumpkins and once almost burning down his apartment. Curiously he’d backed out of the expedition to collect their festive squashes. She examined another. Not this either, like so many others it was lopsided and the one next to it looked sad. Wraith chuckled to herself. If she was starting to think like Wattson maybe they really were spending too much time together like Bangalore teased.
She looked over at the other woman, bundled up in her usual puffy jacket and now wrapped with the scarf she’d stolen off of Wraith. Along with her was Nikola who was just as fascinated by pumpkins as his owner. That was when he wasn’t gnawing on his leash. Yet another subpar pumpkin was returned to the dirt.
“Maybe this?” Wraith hoisted yet another but this time Wattson hurried over. She collected it, examined it like it was worth millions of credits, then placed it in front of Nikola to sniff. “Is he the final judge?”
“If it is starting to rot he will smell it. The jack-o-lantern has to last and the smell of rotting pumpkin does not get out of clothes easily.” She said. The cat too found the pumpkin acceptable. “This one is perfect! Let’s go, we have a lot left to do.”
Back at Wattson’s apartment Wraith was on carving duty. Her kunai easily sliced through the top leaving the seeds exposed. That would also be her job. The slimy innards were not Wattson’s favorite to handle but were to be saved nonetheless. Gibraltar wanted them for cooking and with so many Legends carving pumpkins, he’d have more than he knew what to do with. In only a few minutes Wraith had carefully scraped the inside clean of seeds. The pumpkin guts were bagged and set aside. Now was Wattson’s turn. She carefully drew out a pattern on the skin. At first the black lines of the marker were hard to decipher, just vague shapes and curves. But slowly it took shape. Wraith laughed. Of course it was a Nessie in a witch hat and a rather well rendered one at that.
“It’s cute but it looks like that whole section will fall out when I cut it?” Wraith asked.
“No, you will see. There are some parts you need to only make thinner. Be patient.” Wattson teased. She made a few more finishing touches and scribbled out some areas. “Give me your hand.” Wattson said.
Wraith’s hand was taken in the engineer’s, gently but there was no question who was directing her movement. She pointed out the places to fully excise and those to only shave down, careful to ensure Wraith followed her exact orders. With the plan laid out, Wattson let her get to work. As it turned out, Wraith’s knife work was better suited to combat rather than artistic pursuits. Poor Nessie was lopsided and uneven.
“Sorry Watts, I probably should have practiced a little more.” Wraith winced as she wiped her kunai of pumpkin juice.
“No, he is quite perfect because you made him. Only ma jolie fantôme could have carved this one but not a worry, there are many more pumpkins to carve. We need one for you and for Nikola too.” Wattson laughed and kissed Wraith’s cheek.
Winter
Mastiff pellets slammed into the festively decorated wall just above Wraith. The near miss gave her the time she needed to duck behind a christmas tree for cover and roll a grenade down the floor of the train. If the Apex Games were controlled chaos, Winter Express was unmitigated insanity. Three squads all warring over a train car smaller than Wraith’s first apartment gave little time to think. And once again Wraith was down to a single squadmate after Octane got himself caught out in the open. She pulled herself in the Void and phased through a maze of fences.
“Oh hello Wraith! I had my sights trained on Bloodhound but you got away in time. Get it?” She said as she let the shot fly, nailing the hunter in the chest. Wraith laughed and let her head rest against the wall for a moment.
“You’re luck that you’re cute. I can’t catch a break even while we’re in the middle of a firefight.” Wraith laughed. Wattson playfully kicked her and shot something back in French.
A few bullets whizzed through the door but neither cared. There was a paperthin glass barrier between them and all the things that had been building since that first match together. All it needed was the smallest crack to let loose the swirling emotions. Wraith was more nervous of what Wattson might say if she let her guard down than she was for the end of season rankings. Both were lost in the playful moment just long enough for a grenade blast to interrupt. It was back to business for now.
“Gibraltar and Bangalore are going to make a play for the middle in just a minute. I lost track of Caustic though.” Wraith reloaded her EVA and peeked out of the traincar. Still no sign of him.
“That will be problematic. My pylon is not ready yet so holding it will be tough. We could let them win this round and then strike back in the next! If they all use their abilities, the final round will be very easy for us.” Wattson suggested. She sent two more longbow shots down range to fell Pathfinder. Now it was just two squads left.
“Not a bad plan. And we’ll have Octane back to draw fire.” Wraith stood up and readied for any attempt by their enemy to push their car.
The overtime timer started and just as expected a gas grenade landed square in the center of the final car. A moment after it burst into corrosive green gas a signal grenade hailed an airstrike. While the objective was pummeled by explosions Wraith gave Wattson cover fire to move to the back of their holdout. A few rounds plinked against Wraith’s shield but all she had to do was buy time. A few seconds later the round ended almost exactly as they’d hoped and under the protection of a dome shield, the other squad returned to the front train car.
“Bangalore still has her artillery.” Wraith said but Wattson was fussing with the tinsel inside the car.
“You know, I got you something for christmas. I’m not sure what you will think of it.” Wattson replaced the tinsel and moved to a spot near the rear door. Wraith followed, unsure of where this conversation and train were going.
“You’re a smart woman, Wattson. I’m sure you got me something great.” Wattson took Wraith’s hands and led her along to right under the doorway.
“Too kind. But maybe there is something you can give me now. Something I did not put on my list.” Wattson’s voice was slower, more cautious now. Some kind of plan was afoot. The Voices decided they were not giving hints.
“What do you have in mind?”
Another long pause. Wattson’s eyes were as wide as saucers and darted around Wraith’s face before looking straight up.
“There’s a hint.” She said.
Wraith followed her gaze to a bundle of sprigs with a red bow and white fruits. Now the skirmisher’s eyes were just as wide when they met Wattson’s. Of course Mirage would have hung mistletoe in his train. A silent question left Wraith’s pale face. It was answered with a timid nod.
The two leaned in, first turning their heads the same way. A giggle and a blush later they got it right. One quick kiss, an experiment, a scouting run. The barrier holding back those feelings and unasked questions shattered away leaving the two ankle deep in new unknowns and paths to follow. At least now they knew that would be together.
“Merry Christmas, Wraith. I guessed you would be chill with that, get it?” Wattson giggled. Wraith put her forehead against hers to laugh.
“You really are lucky you’re really cute, otherwise you’d catch a cold shoulder .”