Date: 2016-12-17 02:40 am (UTC)
fistfulofbullets: (Contemplate)
The wink brings a shadow of a flush across his cheeks, and he isn't sure why. He's seen her do it before, to targets and Reyes, to Widowmaker and some of the others he's not allowed to be near. But now, he finds himself looking away, almost as if he were... embarrassed. All the woman had asked was that he be nicer to her, and that was certainly easy enough to do.

Out of the lot, she wasn't Overwatch. She wasn't Blackwatch. She was Talon and Talon alone, and he appreciated that. Not a bunch of backstabbers and cowards who fled, who changed sides, who didn't see things through. No. Only a woman who had chosen a side long ago and stuck with it.

"Do?" He repeats, as if in a haze, carefully placing his revolver in his case.
"Not really allowed to do much." Sleep, wake, train, eat, sleep. That was the pattern of his life without missions.

He remembered, vaguely, a time where he was alone. Where the entire world sprawled out before him and he could see everything. The stars at night, the sunset across the sparkling water of the ocean. The dry desert sands and the small little towns that kept their 21st century charm. A pretty girl- or a handsome boy- to warm his bed at night. But that was another person. Another lifetime.

Jesse McCree was dead, and his hobbies along with it.
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