Chapter Text
You pulled the trigger without hesitation, the gun hardly made a sound. Thank god for silencers. With practiced precision the gun was quickly stowed away in your handbag and you were on your way out the door. This job had been relatively simple. Walk into the bank, charm your way into the manager’s office, then kill the limey bastard. If you’ve done it once you’ve done it a thousand times. This time however, felt a bit different.
As you walked out of the office you felt tense. The hairs on the back of your neck started to rise. Something wasn’t right.
The left side of the wall suddenly exploding confirmed your suspicions. You’d be proud if you hadn’t been thrown ten feet by the blast. When you righted yourself you saw two annoyingly familiar figures. The Aussie bank robbers, and all-around chaos makers, Junkrat and Roadhog. Saying they were unprofessional would be an understatement. To keep it simple, if you were a rose they were dandelions.
“Dammit,” you hissed, rolling towards cover. You were strong, but not strong enough to fight these maniacs head-to-head.
Though it didn’t look like you had much of a choice.
“Oi you there, don’ think ai can’t see ya, come out with yer hands up!” Yelled Junkrat. You hesitated before complying. Junkrat’s grin widened when you turned to face him. “Looks like we gotta looker, ay Hog?” You raised an eyebrow at his comment, but stayed silent even as he hobbled closer to you. “You look like one o’ them rich sods don’tcha, sheila. Why don’tcha just empty out that bag there for ol’ Rat eh?” Your (E/C) eyes bore into his amber ones as you unceremoniously turned your handbag upside down. You had to resist the urge to smirk as his eyes widened when your gun, and knife, clattered to the marble floor.
“Sorry,” you told him. “Not packing much money today. Maybe better luck in the safe.” Junkrat giggled wildly, swaying on his peg leg.
“Well I’ll be stuffed! Ain’t that a beaut, Hog!? The lil sheila ‘as more than just looks ay?” Roadhog grunted in response, throwing a grenade at some escape hopeful patrons. “So whatcha gone and done?” Junkrat waved his ‘gun’ at you with every word, it bobbed wildly whenever he took a step towards you. You bit your lip, finding a way out of this was going to be difficult. There was only one thing you could do.
“I killed the Bank manager.” You answered simply. “You don’t need to worry, all the money is still there. So I’d appreciate it if, one criminal to another, you could let me go on my way before your firecrackers attract some unwanted attention.” The blonde Aussie turned towards the larger man who simply lifted his huge shoulders and shrugged.
“Y’know what? It’s your lucky day. Though if I find the safe ‘as gone walkabout, you’ll be seeing us again real soon. . . Also,” He added, dragging your gun towards him with his peg leg. “I think I’ll be takin’ this with me as a bit o’ an souvenir.” You frowned a bit, losing your favorite revolver was a pain. . . But not as much of a pain as being killed.
“Whatever floats your boat,” You muttered as you made your way to the back exit, his mad laughter echoing in your ears. You made it out the door before freezing. More cops than you had ever seen, or ever wanted to see, had surrounded the building. In hindsight, you could have ran into their arms, no one knew your face or what you had done. Well hindsight is 20/20. In reality you threw yourself back into the bank faster than the snap on a mousetrap. Junkrat glanced at you through the dust of an explosion.
“Couldn't get enough of me eh?” He laughed.
“No, surprisingly you two are somewhat more preferable to being arrested. The building's surrounded, any chance you've got a backup plan?” You hastily explained. Junkrat grinned happily while Roadhog sighed in exasperation.
“Only got the one plan, BOOM! And if things go belly up we just throw more bombs!” He cackled, shooting a bomb out of his gun for emphasis. “Tell ya what, us criminal types gotta stick together, yeah? How’s about you fill up this sack with some o’ those stacks they got in there, and maybe ai could find room for you on our get-o-way mobile.” Junkrat threw a burlap sack at you and you caught it clumsily. The smell and feel of it immediately repulsed you. It was burnt, greasy, and smelled as if the two men had been using it to dry their arm pits for years (Something that you wouldn’t put past them).
“Charming…” You muttered. Quickly running into the safe, which had conveniently been blown open, you began to stuff the disgusting sack with as much money as it could hold before hefting it over your shoulder. When you returned you saw the two junkers placing what looked like C4 charges all over the entrance to the bank. “I got the cash. We blowing our way out?”
“Sort of. Blow up the front, go out the back,” Rumbled Roadhog. You blinked up at him in surprise. You hadn’t even realized the man could talk.
Junkrat shook you out of your stupor. “You should probably hide yerself, don’t wantcha to go splat now do we.”
“Right,” You jumped back behind the teller’s station. A few seconds passed before Junkrat and Roadhog joined you and a giant blast shook the building.
“Ere we go!” Junkrat cheered. They tore off towards the back of the building and you had to scramble up onto your feet to follow them. Their plan had worked perfectly, the cops that had previously been guarding the back of the building had circled around to see if there were any casualties. Now there was just the matter of making it out of there alive. Which, judging by the rickety deathmachine they had lead you to, was not looking too good.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…” Their “get-o-way mobile” was an old-fashioned motorcycle with a sidecar that looked like sitting in it would give you tetanus. But, like the rest of today’s events, it didn’t look like you had a choice. Junkrat hopped in first before grinning up at you and patting the ‘seat’ between his legs. Your face flushed a bit as you climbed into the sidecar. The bag of cash took up what little room was left and you were forced back into Junkrat’s chest. The junker seemed to relish in the contact though, judging from the fit of crazy giggles that he let loose. In fact, his giggles only got louder through the bumpy ride away from the police. There were several times where the bike hit a pothole, or when they took a curb too fast, that caused you to be thrown around violently. . . Which lead to a certain blonde junker’s metal arm being wrapped around your waist. You would have been embarrassed if his arm wasn’t working as a human safety belt.
By the time the ride was over you felt that the wrath of the police officers would have been preferable. As you awkwardly climbed out you felt as though a herd of cows had trampled over your lower body.
“Well, that was… Brisk.” You groaned. “I think I’ll just be on my way. . . as soon as I can feel my legs again.”
“Ya get used to it, helps when ya only have one.” Chuckled Junkrat, tapping his metal leg against the ground. You smiled a bit at his antics.
“Really though, I should be going. Thanks for the ride out of there.” Roadhog glanced up at you and gave you a silent nod. Junkrat decided on the more theatrical approach and raised his hand to his head in a mock salute.
“Nice to meet ya, killer. Stay classy,” He called out to you. You raised your hand and returned the salute before turning and trekking away.
Maybe you’d see those two again. Strangely enough, you wouldn’t mind that. That motorcycle however, never seeing it again would be too soon.