Chapter Text
“Angela, I really shouldn’t.” Jack sighed, rubbing his head with a tired hand.
“You are my teacher and the person who recommended me to Overwatch,” Angela’s voice brooked no argument, even over the phone. “So I insist that you attend this as my plus one.”
‘This’ being Overwatch’s annual charity ball, all the big shots were going to be there, either to show their support of the world’s strongest organization or just for a chance to bask in the light of Overwatch’s many heroes. Jack didn’t see what the fuss was about, getting a job done - and done well - was enough for him, no need to toss in unnecessary fanfare and host extravagant publicity stunts.
Sometimes he wondered if things would have been different if he had taken that recommendation to join the US’ Soldier Enhancement Program, but he shook his head. He had made a promise to his father to return to the farm after his brief stint in the military. As it turned out, the farm was flattened in an air raid and by then Jack was in charge of CSAR (Combat Search and Rescue) for the area. His father and sister had escaped the war thanks to some string pulling and were now living comfortably in Spain while he continued his work as a medic, this time in Somalia where he had set up a clinic for the less fortunate.
Adjusting the phone on his shoulder, head cocked to the side to hold the device in place, Jack continued to flick through his Holopad. “Angie, you know how I feel about big parties,” He said. “‘Sides, I’m needed here.”
“Kelly told me you were overworking again,” Angela deadpanned over the phone.
“I am not ,” Jack argued.
“ Sure ,” Jack didn’t miss Angela’s incredulous tone, the Valkyrie medic no doubt had her brows furrowed disapprovingly as she tapped on the side of a coffee cup. “Jack, even you need a break now and then, the ball’s in Switzerland and it’s only for a few days - think of it as a small holiday.”
“My time is better spent --” Jack began
“Dr. Vahlen is going to be there” Angela cut in.
Jack inhaled sharply. Dr. Vahlen was currently the leading scientist in Genetics and Microbiology, and he had been wanting to talk to the other doctor about her work for ages now.
“One second Angie,” Removing the phone from his ear, he leaned back on his chair before shouting through the half-open tent flap. “Kelly!”
His assistant was quick to respond, a lab coat flapping around her thin frame, round brass glasses sitting high on a small button nose and a dainty hand holding the surgical mask away from equally small perky lips. “Yes sir?”
“What’s the status of the clinic right now?”
The small girl blinked once, mind running a mile a minute before speaking. “We have enough supplies to last us the next six months. No emergencies right now, all patients are stable, the worst we have is the man who fell into the ditch.”
“Any signs of rogue omnics?” It probably wasn’t an issue anymore but it was always better to check.
“Somali local defence forces haven’t seen any in the past year,” Kelly said quickly. “What’s this about sir?”
“I’m thinking of taking a…um…’ holiday ’,” Jack said. God, the word even sounds wrong on his tongue.
Kelly was quick to catch on, thin lips stretching into a mischievous grin “Is this about that Overwatch ball, Sir?”
“Yes, Kelly, it is.” Jack sighed, no point in lying to his assistant.
“Don’t worry about us sir!” The tiny girl was quick to reassure him. “There’s nothing here our doctors can’t handle and Adam tells me our own sentry bots are still functional - this clinic is well protected! Oh and tell Angie I said ‘Hi’!”
With that, Kelly quickly disappeared once more, no doubt to return to whatever she was doing before. Jack huffed, his assistant was truly a bundle of energy that never seemed to tire, replacing the phone against his ear, he put down his holopad with his other hand.
“Angie?”
“Tell Kelly I said ‘Hi’ too!” Angela said.
“Too late, she left.”
There sounded like a laugh from the other end, Jack couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Reaching his free hand up, he swiped it down his face. Now that he thought about it, a break would do him some good, even if it was at a party.
“I’ll take the next flight out,” Jack said. “I should be able to arrive in Switzerland by next week.”
“ Underbar !” Angela exclaimed “I can’t wait, this will be great Jack, you’ll see!”
“Sure, sure. Talk to you later Angie.”
“Strike-Commander.”
Gabriel bit his tongue, trying desperately to stop his facial features from sliding into one of pure agony. The strain must have been apparent on his face as Ana Amari, his second in command, folded her arms over her chest to look at him, a grin somewhere between a smirk and matronly disapproval on her own lips.
“Cheer up Gabriel,” Ana chuckled, reaching up to pat away the creases on his shoulder. “The one night we get free drinks and you look like you’re stepping into a slaughter house!”
Gabriel snorted before shaking out his arms to loosen the tension from them. He was dressed in a black three-piece suit specifically tailored to his muscular form, even then, the vest clung uncomfortably to his abs, the white collared shirt on the inside was stiff, offering little movement - and was that a loose thread scratching at the back of his neck? Though now that he thinks about it, those should be the least of his worries. The thick black coat that was draped over the entire get up was hot, stuffy, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head and he quickly brushed it away. It was at times like this he was glad he kept his head clean shaven, it also saved him the time it took to style it.
“It is a slaughter house Ana,” Gabriel grumbled, adjusting the cuffs around his wrists. “All those reporters, paparazzi, not to mention those damn bureaucrats. They’re just waiting for me to fuck up.”
Ana’s brows snapped together in a frown, hands planted firmly on her slim waist. The Egyptian sniper had swapped out her usual body suit and armour for a beautiful royal blue dress with a small train. Sleeveless and backless, the flowing silk was held against the woman’s body by a carefully embroidered bead belt and collar, the golden thread sparkling in the light. The sniper’s greying black hair had been curled and now sat stylishly coiled on her left shoulder, gems of blue and amber sparked at her ears and around her wrists, glowing against her smooth dark mocha skin.
“Gabriel, if you keep talking like that, you will fuck up.” The sniper scolded, “I know you don’t like balls, but please , just try?”
Ana was holding out a piece of red silk in her hands, the long material seemed to beckon to Gabriel. With a sigh, the Strike-Commander took the tie from her before fixing it securely around his neck and tucking it’s long end deep into his vest. Just as he finished, there were three quick raps on his door before the wooden piece swung open to reveal a ‘smart’ looking Jesse McCree.
The gunslinger grinned. He had been forced into a suit as well, his usually rugged beard and hair trimmed and meticulously gelled into place. Stubbornly held against his chest was his trademark stetson hat.
“Come on Capt! Everyone knows jefe likes balls . Can’t say the same for parties though,” Jesse drawled, throwing a wink at his boss before finger-gunning in Ana’s direction.
“Agent McCree...” Gabriel growled, a warning tone in his voice. Beside him, Ana only rolled her eyes before making her way over to the gunslinger. With practised ease, the woman straightened Jesse’s tie, flattened out the creases on the boy’s suit and slapped him out of his slouch - for good measure.
Jesse took all of Ana’s motherly affection with a sheepish grin, replacing his hat upon his head lightly - he wasn’t sure if his hair would get mussed and he didn’t want to bother to find out - before turning to face Gabriel.
“Time to go jefe ,” Jesse grimaced. “They’re waiting for you.”
Gabriel sighed, taking one last chance to check himself in the mirror. Nervously, he smoothed out his coat - not there was anything else to smooth - before lightly pushing past McCree and into the hallway, Ana and Jesse falling into step behind him.
Too soon did he arrive in the bustling ballroom. For a moment, Gabriel had to pause and gather his bearings. People dressed in flamboyant gowns, multicoloured suits, dazzling accessories shining under the crystal chandelier, there were so many colours, noises, smells that it made him nauseous. Gritting his teeth, Gabriel resisted the urge to reach up and massage the bridge of his nose, even as the beginnings of a headache pounded in his temples.
“My, my, look who’s here!”
Gabriel half turned to face the voice, brows visibly narrowing at the newcomer. Dimly he was aware of his headache getting more painful by the second.
“Gerard. Good to see that you could make it.”
The Frenchman grinned, flashing pearly white teeth, the action had Gabriel furrowing his brows just that bit more as he reached forward to shake his colleague’s hand. As their palms touched, Gabriel tightened his grip, not enough to bruise, but enough to be considered painful.
“Strange that you would show up here. What are you planning Gerard?” He muttered lowly.
The Frenchman had the audacity to look scandalised before replying “Gabriel! You of all people should know that I would never try anything at a charity ball!” Despite his words, Gerard’s grip on the ‘handshake’ tightened as well, lowering his voice, the other man continued. “Relax, Commander . Blackwatch’s is on their best behaviour today, I promise you that all my agents are here to simply enjoy the free wine and food.”
Gabriel glared at the other man, Blackwatch-Commander Gerard didn’t even flinch, his dark - nearly black - eyes boring into Gabriel’s own before both men were parting and with a nod, the Frenchman melded back into the crowd with the ease of long practise. Gabriel huffed.
“We really should keep an eye on him…” Jesse began hesitantly. “I don’t trust him.”
“You’re welcome to it Jesse,” Gabriel growled “But I doubt he’ll try anything tonight, too many cameras and --”
Gabriel’s breath hitched in his suddenly locked throat. His suddenly sweat slicked palms fumbling at his coat lapels as his hazel brown eyes roamed over the stranger standing on the far side of the room.
The stranger’s bright blue eyes met his own, pale ivory cheeks flushing a gorgeous pink before the blond was looking away, carefully nursing a glass of champagne in one hand as he used his other to tap the shoulder of a woman beside him.
“Gabriel?” Ana asked.
“Who’s that?” Gabriel demanded. “The man beside Angela?”
Ana and Jesse both traded bewildered looks before looking in the direction the Commander had indicated. Setting their sights on the mysterious blond, a snicker escaped the gunslinger’s smirk while his Second laughed, the sound only making Gabriel’s ears burn hotter.
“Told you he liked balls,” Jesse whispered, lightly elbowing Ana.
The sniper rolled her eyes, brushing away the cowboy’s arm before addressing Gabriel’s scowl, if she noticed that his cheeks were darker than usual, she thought better than to comment on it.
“That’s Angela’s plus one,” Ana answered smoothly. “From what I hear, he was her teacher and the one that recommended her to Overwatch.”
“So he’s a doctor…” Gabriel mumbled.
“A combat medic, actually.” Ana amended “He runs a clinic in Somalia, before that he was in charge of running CSAR on American soil.”
“What’s his name?”
“Mierda jefe! If you’re so desperate to know who he is just go talk to him!” Jesse interjected.
“Jesse--” Gabriel began.
“You’re asking about him like he’s a recruit you’re going to torture!” The gunslinger went on.
“I am not !”
“You are,” Ana cut in. Waving over a waiter, the sniper carefully plucked a crystal glass from the server’s tray before shooing the waiter away. Without breaking a beat, she pushed the crystal glass, filled with some rich, strong smelling, dark brown liquid, into Gabriel’s hand and motioned for him to drink.
“You can’t be serious,” Gabriel growled, nervously eyeing the drink in his hands.
“I am very serious.” Ana deadpanned “When was the last time you had some fun?”
“Ana, I’m the Strike-Commander of Overwatch. I don’t have time for fun.”
The sniper rolled her eyes. “Gabriel, you spent too much time working! Between all the paperwork, missions, meetings, you’re forgetting how to be you , how to be human !” Ana’s deep brown eyes softened, wrinkles deepening at the corners of her eyes, a matriarchal smile that had shivers snaking up Gabriel’s spine as the woman continued, “Do me a favour and talk to that man. Enjoy yourself tonight, take a break .”
Gabriel hesitated. Give him his shotguns and an objective and he would be returning from the mission successful with enough intel and resources to sink a boat. But give him a shot glass and instructions to talk to a man he had never met, at a charity ball surrounded by gawking paparazzis and flashing cameras, all while keeping up his professional appearance? Seems a bit of a stretch.
“Hey jefe .”
Gabriel looked up, his protege’s eyes were kind, even under the stupid stetson hat he insisted on wearing.
“We’ll take care of the cameras and the big shots,” Jesse said, nodding in the direction the blond and Angela had disappeared, he went on “Go on. We’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.”
Gabriel’s hands tightened on the crystal glass as he looked between Ana and Jesse. Deciding mentally to say screw it , he chugged the drink, feeling the brandy burn its way down his throat. The alcohol probably wasn’t strong enough and he would most likely need a second - maybe a third - glass before the hour was done (enhanced metabolism be damned). Wincing at the spicy acrid taste, he shoved the empty glass into Jesse’s hands before moving into the crowd, barely remembering to keep his back straight and his shoulders squared.
“You never told me the Strike-Commander was going to be here,” Jack protested weakly.
“Well, you should have known.” Angela pointed out. “Gabriel’s presence is mandatory at events like this.”
The blond groaned deeply. He was decked out in a white button down shirt overlaid with an equally pristine white business coat and slacks. At his neck was a tie of royal blue silk, around his shoulders was draped an equally blue scarf, thin, long, and reaching down towards his thighs. With one hand, he fumbled nervously at the woven material, nails prickling through the threads.
“Calm down Jack!” Angela insisted “Just enjoy yourself and relax . There’s enough wine and food to drown in so take as much as you want. Besides, the Commander probably has to deal with the UN officials and what not, he won’t be bothering us.”
“Thank ever so,” Jack grumbled, trying not to feel the slightest bit disappointed. Changing the subject he said, “So when are you going to introduce me to Dr. Vahlen?”
“When did I mention Dr. Vahlen?” Angela asked innocently around a wine glass, sky blue eyes shining mischievously.
“Angela!”
“What?” The Valkyrie medic exclaimed defensively. “It wasn’t like I was going to get you out of your clinic with free food! And you were overworking, badly . You needed a break!”
“I was doing just fine!” Jack huffed.
“No, you weren’t.” Angela snapped, putting down her wine glass on a nearby table, she began ticking off a list on her fingers. “Working late into the night, giving away your own meals to your patients, joining area patrols, aiding the local defence forces, organising and training them as well , not to mention you were also multitasking your own research! I wouldn’t call that fine!”
Jack took another sip from his own glass of champagne, grimacing he asked “Ok, I admit it, but where did you even hear all that?”
“I have my sources.”
“When I get back, I’m bugging Kelly’s phone.” Jack muttered.
Angela slapped his arm. Jack chuckled, ducking away from the other woman and feeling the sting of the strike even through the thick padding of his coat.
“Alright! Geez Angie, I was just joking!” Jack laughed.
“You better be,” She snapped, picking up her wine glass again, Angela took a tentative sip. “I mean it when I said I wanted you to take a break.” Her voice softened, blue eyes lowered as she quietly tapped the side of the glass in her hands “I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine ,” Jack reassured her. He would never tell her that he had to cake on the concealer today, the dark rings around his eyes deeper than they had ever been. Or the fact that he was on sleeping pills to help him get a good night’s rest. Jack had always been working, resting made him restless, but at the same time he was happy his former student tried to look out for him “Thank you Angie.”
The Valkyrie medic huffed. “I haven’t done anything worth your thanks yet,” She said, one hand planted firmly on her waist. “Now since we’re here, I say we should try out the chocolate bar, I heard th--”
“Dr. Ziegler?” A new voice interrupted.
Angela nearly leapt out of her skin, Jack definitely did, mouth clamping down on the yelp that nearly escaped him as he whirled - nearly short of spilling his champagne - to face the dark handsome face of the Strike-Commander looming over him. Jack was perhaps a few inches shorter than Gabriel but the difference could have been the size of a mountain for all Jack cared. Dark and dangerous, Overwatch’s Commander was as beautiful as the photos Jack secretly stored away in a hidden compartment in his filing cabinet back at his clinic. With muscles barely concealed by the meticulously tailored suit, stiffly trimmed beard framing soft, chocolate lips and deep brown eyes that Jack could just drown in, the blond wasn’t even aware of the champagne glass slipping through his fingers until a strong hand reached up to cover his own, steadying his grasp on the slippery glass.
Jack gulped. Well...shit .
“C-Commander Reyes!” Angela stammered “I wasn’t aware that you - um - I thought you were busy!” she finished lamely.
“I came by to have a chat,” Gabriel said smoothly. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he removed his hand from Jack’s own, the warmth from the contact buzzing through every nerve the blond had. “May I ask who your friend is?”
“I - ah - Yes! Of course! Strike-Commander Gabriel Reyes, may I introduce you to my teacher and friend, Jack Morrison.” Angela said carefully.
“ Former teacher, actually.” Jack coughed. “I haven’t taught Angela much ever since her breakthrough in Nanobiotech.”
“But you are still on good terms?” Gabriel asked with a quirked brow.
“Yes, of course.” Jack reassured him.
“Mr. Morrison and I keep in contact,” Angela explained “I coordinate supply deliveries to his clinic in Somalia and he has been acting as my correspondent for the region.”
“I see…” Gabriel trailed off hesitantly, Jack didn’t miss the way the dark man’s finger’s twisted before gesturing between him and Angela “So, are you two…?”
“ Herregud ! No! We aren’t--” Angela stuttered
“No, no, I’m just a friend !” Jack insisted, stressing the last word, abruptly he added “And anyway, I’m gay.”
The words had barely left his mouth before he slapped his free hand over his own lips. Blood pounding in his ears as his cheeks burnt a furious red.
Fucking smooth Jack .
To his credit, Gabriel’s jaw dropped, just a fraction, but it was enough. The dark man fumbled, seemingly at a lost for words. Jack was sure he had made an absolute fool of himself when Gabriel smiled shyly, a calloused hand coming to rub the back of his own neck.
“Well I um… so am I… actually.” Gabriel grinned “Not many people would be so open with me.”
“Well, not many people are idiots.” Jack deadpanned. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“It’s alright,” Gabriel reassured him immediately. “So, can I...Can I call you Jack?”
“Only if I can call you Gabriel,” Jack shot back.
“Alright, Jack.” Gabriel smirked. Gracefully, he snatched a glass of brandy from a passing waiter before leaning lightly on the table beside them. Both men barely noticed when Angela quietly excused herself and faded into the bustling crowd, so fixed on each other that the constant drone around them faded into nothing but a passing breeze. “So, what’s your story?”
“I doubt my story is very interesting to someone of your calibre, Gabriel.” Jack said.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Their shoulders were nearly brushing, grinning into each other’s eyes like teenagers sharing a secret, cornflower blue to rich brown.
“Alright,” Jack smiled. “I was born in Indiana, on a farm.”
Gabriel quirked a brow, sloshing the brandy in it’s crystal cup “Why am I not surprised Golden Boy here came from the land of Golden fields.”
Jack rolled his eyes, but his grin only grew “Joined the military at eighteen and trained as a combat medic.”
“Where did you serve?”
“Mostly in the US. Was deployed in Germany for a while, running CSAR for the Crusaders before being shipped back.”
“A friend told me you were in charge of Rescue Operations.” Gabriel murmured.
“Yeah, the military needed someone to look out for you adrenaline junkies on the front line,” Jack said, voice low, husky, brushing along the side of Gabriel’s ear.
He didn’t miss the way the darker man’s skin heated up.
“So,” Gabriel coughed, clearing his throat. “How’d you end up there in the first place?”
“You’re going to think this is stupid.”
“Jack…”
“I rejected an offer to join the SEP,” Jack said quickly, before taking a long drag from his champagne glass.
Gabriel’s eyes widened turning to face the blond beside him, body angled so that Jack could just about see all the rigid muscles and elegant lines barely concealed by the stiff suit.
“ You rejected the SEP?” Gabriel’s voice was incredulous.
“Told you it was stupid,” Jack muttered, draining his glass. “I promised my father I would only join the army for a brief stint before going back to help on the farm.”
“But you own a clinic in Somalia…?”
“The farm was flattened in air raids. I work as a doctor now.” Jack grimaced at his now empty glass, he could use another drink. Talking about the farm he could’ve had was always a bitter topic, wondering about things that could’ve been, things that he had to give up, things he could’ve had.
The slender glass was plucked from his pale fingers and another shoved in it’s place. Dark, calloused hands caressing his own before parting. Jack looked up to find deep brown orbs boring into his own, filled with kindness and comfort.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” Gabriel murmured.
“What are you apologising for?” He asked, a shiver made it’s way down his spine, spreading along his back, tingling around his shoulder blades. Unconsciously, his hand seeked out Gabriel’s own, brushing the scars that crisscrossed the knuckles. “It’s not your fault.”
“I...It’s nothing,” Gabriel stammered. “But, just so you know...you weren’t missing anything in SEP.” He attempted a small grin but felt the edges of his lips twitch, unable to hold what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
To his surprise, Jack laughed, the sound throaty and deep, brimming with emotions. Gabriel blinked, he had never heard a sound so true and genuine, surrounded as he was on a daily basis by bureaucrats who wore nothing but masks, whose every shift, every look was a facade - a snake rearing to strike.
Before he even realised, he had clasped Jack’s free hand in his own, heat buzzing from the skin-to-skin contact, drumming under his veins and setting his cheeks alight as he suddenly exclaimed, “Jack! will you go out with me!?”
Jack’s soft blue eyes widened, thin lips parted with a sharp intake of breath as the usually pale cheeks suddenly blossomed with colour, scorching the skin a beautiful red. The blond stuttered, the question so abrupt it momentarily threw him off-balance. What should I do? What should I say?
“Yes!”
“Oh my gooooooood,” Jesse drawled.
“My thoughts exactly,” Angela whispered from behind the hands clasped over her mouth.
Ana had dropped her matronly poise, instead burying her face in her hands as she groaned painfully. The two younger agents quickly darted glances to the elderly sniper, but temptation and curiosity soon won out as they returned to scrutinizing the two men - their hands still clasped.
The press are going to have a field day , Ana thought harshly.
And she would have to be the one that dealt with the stupid questions.
The whistle was long, drawn out, amused.
“Sir?”
“Who would’ve thought our dear Commander had a thing for innocent looking golden boys,” Gerard grinned, twirling the wine glass in his slender fingers.
Liao sniffed disdainfully, folding broad muscled arms over his chest.
“Get me everything we have on that man,” Gerard ordered, a sly grin breaking out over his features. “Now, Reyes. I know it’s still early but let’s see how well you play the love game.”
xxx