We'll Always Have Paris

There was a joke over 100 years old that involved the French, Paris, and the former giving up the latter and becoming cheese eating surrender monkeys in the process. Or frogs. She couldn't be sure. Only that said joke had its origins in the Second World War - a conflict that had changed the fabric of the world at the time, but now, in the year 2077, felt distant. Quaint, even.

She hadn't learnt much about the Second World War at school, only that Switzerland had managed to stay out of it for the most part. Just as it had for most of the wars of the 20th and 21st century. Right up until the Omnic Crisis, which few nations had been able to escape from, and when she'd been a child, learning about the conflict wasn't even on the agenda. One couldn't formulate a history curriculum for a conflict that had just ended, and in the ruins of which you were still standing. No point in teaching history that you'd lived yourself. But, standing here, in Paris, the so-called City of Light, she found herself reflecting on conflicts ancient, recent, and imminent. Paris had been a battlefield in the Second World War and the Omnic Crisis. Now, she had no doubt that decades from now, it would be remembered as the point where a new war started, or the Second Omnic Crisis was no longer confined to the wastes of Siberia.

On the bright side, at least there was little blood spilt.

In light of Null Sector's surprise attack, Paris had been evacuated with astonishing speed. How one could do that with 11 million people, Angela had no idea, but the French had managed it. Quick enough for the police to do their work, but the battle not lasting long enough for the army to arrive. Here, now, snow still falling due to the destruction of the Titan, she couldn't help but smile at the sight before her. People coming back. Police trying to keep them at bay from the heroes who'd saved them. Heroes old and new, though, in her case, mostly new. She was 38 years old, which made her one of the oldest people in the group. A group that she could see as to who was soaking up the attention (e.g. Lena), who was trying to avoid it (e.g. Brigitte), and some whose attention was less than warm.

Echo had gone to get them a new ride to Gibraltar. But while medicine was her field, Angela knew that one didn't have to be a psychologist to see that so many of the people here were distrustful of a robot fighting alongside humans and their near-relatives. Or that the robot in question was perturbed enough by it to use it as an excuse to bail. She, however, had barely been noticed. Which was fine. They called her Mercy, as so often she provided it like an angel from on high, descending into conflict zones in her Valkyrie suit. To her, it was a means to an end. She was just as happy working in a hospital, doing the work that needed to be done. Work that, thankfully, didn't have to be done this time.

What about next time? She looked away from the crowd and turned her gaze to the Eifel Tower. Still standing, unlike in every other thriller-holo she'd seen. And the time after that? How many people will be dead when this is all over?

She didn't know. Right now, she didn't want to think about it. She let out a shiver, and not just because of the snow falling down around her. It was midday. It was summer. The snow was an anomaly that shouldn't be here. Like she was.

What happens after this? Angela wondered. She glanced back at her teammates. How Brigitte was finally managing to enjoy herself, and how the children were fighting to get closer. What happens when the same nonsense happens?

Overwatch had been shut down for a reason. Overwatch had failed. That they were here now wasn't due to some intrinsic goodness in an organization with insufficient accountability, it was because people like Petras and his friends in the UN had failed to create anything to take its place. They'd outsourced the job to firms such as HSI, and the results had spoken for themselves. Disaster.

And where are you then? She glanced back at the crowd, at the team, at the surrounding streets. Did you come to the same conclusion? Or did you-

"Angela."

She clutched her staff. A movement that she recognised as being extremely stupid, because if she was under attack, the staff wouldn't do anything. At least her pblaster might give her a fighting chance. But, then, when she was in the presence of Genji Shimada, she had trouble thinking clearly. She also had a tendency to feel warm.

"You, um…" He gestured at her head. "You have something…"

"Hmm?" Still not thinking clearly, she began wiping her forehead. "Is there something here?"

"No, you…" He hesitated, before gingerly reaching towards her hair, and brushing some snow out. "There. All better."

"Oh." She looked down at the snow falling on the ground, hoping to hide her blush. "Yes. Very…very good." She looked back up at him. How Genji looked, she couldn't tell, since he was still wearing his mask.

"You look…nice," she blurted out.

No harm in at least trying pleasantries, she told herself.

Genji said nothing. In his right hand was a katana, in the left the head of a Null Sector robot. Both cyborg and machine looked at her, and if anything, the robot appeared to have more expression.

"Been busy?" Angela asked.

"Destroying the Titan wasn't the end of Null Sector here. Better to pluck out the weeds now before they strangle the gardeners."

In spite of everything, Angela managed to smile. "Was that poetry?"

Genji said nothing.

"I mean, I did receive your letter at Christmas last year," she said, speaking very quickly. "Your poems then, were…well, they were very…"

"I had help."

Her face fell. "Oh?"

"My old master, Mondatta. He has a way with words, even if they don't come out through lips."

"I…see," Angela said.

"He also has a way with information. Tracking, and all that. I understand that you don't have a fixed address these days."

"Nor you."

The two of them stood there. There was the general hub-bub coming near them, and snow continued to drop from the sky. Angela had no doubt that it was still getting in her hair. It was certainly accumulating on Genji's armour. Yet neither of them did, or said anything.

Do something!

Angela didn't know if that voice in the back of her head was talking to her, or Genji. Just like she didn't know why it was so…hard.

It wasn't as if she'd failed to be professional before. She hadn't been the one who'd brought Genji's body into Overwatch's Tokyo branch, but she'd been the one who'd saved his life. Turned out that being shot, stabbed, and kicked into a storm water drain wasn't absolutely guaranteed to stop a man from breathing, even though it was enough to necessitate cybernetic enhancement. Saving lives? She'd done that plenty of times. Cybernetics? New territory for her, if not the world. But, she'd been there in the years that had followed. Keeping enough distance from the shrinks who did their work on Overwatch's own cyborg ninja, but not so much distance to be unapproachable. Not surprising her at all, saving someone's life led to a connection with the patient. What was surprising was how that bond had remained, however tenuous. She'd remained in medicine, he'd been assigned to Blackwatch, both of them worked together in Havanna, and both of them found time in their schedules for late night coffee. Totally within bounds, she'd told herself. Still a professional distance. Even if there was a lot of baggage associated with Genji's name after Venice, what with being among the "Venice Four." After all, she'd told herself, he hadn't ordered the mission. He hadn't been the one to shoot Bartalotti. What was happening was perfectly normal.

Then Overwatch had disbanded. Its agents had been scattered to the winds. She'd found how "normal" life on this planet was. Wars continued. Suffering continued. She'd helped a hundred Genjis over the last six years, and many of them had looked up to her like she was an angel from on high. She'd done her work, kept her distance, and moved from one hellhole to the next. And yet, not forgetting him. And after Christmas…

"Where have you even been all these years?" Angela asked.

How long had they even stood there, she wondered? Seconds? Minutes? Not so long that Echo had returned with transport, so there was that at least. On the other hand, he was still saying nothing.

"Genji?"

"It's a big world," he said. He dropped the omnic's head and sheathed his sword. "There's always a place for my…talents."

She decided not to ask whether those talents had been used for good or ill, if such things could be defined anymore.

"Received the monkey's recall. Thought I'd pay my brother a visit, see if he might be persuaded to use his own talents for something different." He looked aside, his gaze towards the east. "Alas, our faith isn't always rewarded."

"And now you're here," Angela said.

He looked back at her. "I am," he said.

More silence. More snow. More cold outside her body, and more warmth in it. Warmth that was fading however, as they just stood there in that snow and silence.

"And now?" Angela whispered. She took his hand in hers, running her fingers over his.

Genji broke the grip quickly. "The monkey has his team back. I've done my duty."

Angela stared at him. "You're leaving?"

"We're all leaving, one way or another."

She scowled. "You know exactly what I mean. You…you turn up, here, after all this time, and now you're leaving again?"

"Doctor Ziegler…"

"You're hiding?!"

She couldn't see his face behind that mask. But she'd worked alongside Genji Shimada long enough to recognise tells. Sight shifts in the way he held himself. Right now, she could tell that she'd struck a nerve.

Good.

"Look at those cameras, Doctor Ziegler," Genji said. He gestured to the crowd, specifically at the reports and their floating drone cams. "Within the hour, what happened here will be on every news station in the world. An hour after that, the Shimada Clan will gather to decide whether they want to invest the time and energy in trying to finish the job they failed to do all those years ago."

"And you're afraid?" Angela murmured.

"Afraid? No. But do you think they will be positively inclined to the one who saved my life?"

Angela stood there, rooted to the spot. Not noticing that the snow was no longer falling. Feeling the warmth within her twist itself into an inferno, one that would make the Devil himself laugh.

How dare you? She wondered. How dare you…you…

As if she couldn't take care of herself. As if she'd never risked her life before for the people she cared about. As if she couldn't see through this…whatever it was. As if that mask could hide anything from her. She was the one who'd fit it on in the first place for God's sake. As if there was anything that could be said for a man who turned up out of the blue to take down a Titan and just bugged out.

"Fine. But before you run away, I have something for you."

She couldn't say anything, but she could try. A flag in her armour opened up, and she pulled out a feather. One that she could tell that Genji recognised, the mask failing to hide everything.

"I suggest you take it," she said. "After all, Sparrow is your name. And my wings are well and good, after all."

"Angela…"

"Take it," she snapped. "And don't send it back to me."

The snow was beginning to melt, forming puddles beneath her boots. Right now, as the man before her gently took the feather, it wasn't the only water that Angela Ziegler was in contact with.

Genji pocketed it and looked back at the other team members. "Give my regards," he said. "For what they're worth."

Genji turned around and began to walk off, but only took a few steps before coming to a stop. With his back arched, and that back facing her, he murmured, "I mean what I said, you know. When I used that quill to pen those words."

Angela said nothing. Maybe he was waiting for her to do so, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She worked in medicine. Genji's presence had awoken a sickness within her, and she wasn't going to cure it by postponing treatment. He'd go one way, he'd go the other, and they'd both be better off for it. And no doubt he'd reached the same conclusion, because he started walking away again.

"Wait," Angela whispered.

And likewise, stopped again. This time turning around as she walked up to him, coming to a stop only two feet away.

What are you doing?

The voice in her head was back.

Seriously, what are you doing?

She wasn't sure. But she said the words anyway. "Let me see you, Genji."

"Angela?"

"The mask. Let me see you again. Just this once."

He stood there for a moment, one that dragged on far longer than Angela could count. There was no tell this time, no way for her to guess what he was thinking. Or feeling. But whatever the truth of the matter, he reached to the back of his mask and pressed a button. With a soft hiss, the front of the mask slid open, revealing the face behind it.

Oh my.

He must have seen her reaction, because he gave her a small smile. "I figure that fair is fair, after all. Even if this face is one I keep hidden."

Angela remained silent.

She'd seen Genji's face before. She'd seen it when she'd operated on him. It had fared better than the rest of his body, but it had suffered its share of scars and shrapnel. In the years after that moment when his life had changed, he'd rarely taken it off, or even exposed his face at all. Some assumed it was shame at the disfigurement, but she understood better than most. She'd saved Genji Shimada's life by granting him a new one. A life and a body that during his time in Overwatch, he'd never fully come to terms with. How he felt about that now, she couldn't say, but here, now, she could see that the scars had healed as best they could. The scars were less visible. His skin was less pale.

"You look good," she said, forming a smile despite knowing that she wouldn't see this face again. "The scars are barely noticeable."

"I keep them hidden. But yes. The world has been good in healing me. Even if I continue to cut through it."

Angela nodded. Once again, she found herself taking his hand in hers. Unlike last time however, Genji didn't object.

"You look good as well," he murmured, glancing aside, as if unable to make eye contact with her. "The years have been good to you."

"Not as much as you'd think."

"Perhaps. But you're still beautiful."

She stared at him. And given the way he looked at her (and promptly looked away), she suspected that the words had caught him off-guard as much as she had.

"As in, what I mean to say is, well…of course, one's spirit can be beautiful, and-"

Under the shadow of the Eifel Tower, she kissed him.

One part of her had urged restraint – she'd never seen Genji babble before, and that part of her mind wanted to enjoy the experience. Another part yelled at her that this was wrong – Genji might not have been her patient, but that was how he had come into her life, and she couldn't turn her back on the code of conduct she'd operated under then, or now. But the third part, the part that filled her body, the part that thumped with each beat of her heart, drowned the others out. Because she knew that the world was changing. She knew that the world might be forever changed by what Null Sector had begun, and that there might be no caging the beast they'd unlocked. Because she knew now, as part of her had always known, that she had wanted this for years. Longer than she could count. And if these were going to be her last days in the world, she wanted those days to count for something. To feel something. To feel his lips against hers.

Thing was, she noticed, he wasn't resisting. He stood there. He let her lips meet his, as she let his meet hers. Her lips now as warm as her body, triggered not only by the blood circulating through her veins like a rabbit in heat, but the downdraft of the approaching dropship.

Wait, what?

She broke off the embrace to see the descending craft. She didn't recognise the model, but it was big, it was white, and it looked like a good replacement for the Orca. It set down between her and Genji, and Overwatch. From the cockpit, she saw Echo give her the okay sign, not hiding the slight smile on her holographic lips.

Did she see?

The smile was getting wider.

Scheisse! She broke apart from Genji and brushed her suit down. He did up his mask and let his fingers clutch a shuriken in his belt. Neither of them said anything. The only sound was the dropship, the crowd, and Winston yelling "all aboard."

Angela sighed. "Well then," she said.

Genji said nothing.

"That just happened."

Genji remained silent.

"I don't think it's something that we should do again, all things considered."

Genji gave one of his tells – confusion. "Such as?" he murmured.

"Well, considering it would be most improper for me to engage in such activities as your former doctor," she said, trying to meet his visored eye, but failing. She instead looked at the Eifel Tower. "And considering, that you won't be joining us."

"Who said that?"

She looked him in the eye this time. "Pardon?"

"Come on. The monkey said it's time to board. I obey the monkey."

"Genji, you know Winston doesn't like being called a…oh." She blinked. "Yes. Yes, of course."

"Overwatch called. I answered. That's all there is to it."

She decided to give him the dignity of not letting him know that she could tell when he was lying. But when she looked at the omnic's head, staring blankly into the summer air…when she spoke, the sorrow in her words was genuine.

"There's no coming back from this. Is there?" she whispered. She looked back at Genji. "Neither of us were alive for the first war. But now?"

Genji reached out for her, hesitated, then put her hand on her shoulder, before looking at the tower that dwarfed both of them. "Fear not, Angela. We'll always have Paris."

She snorted, and Genji released his hand from her shoulder. He turned around and began heading towards the waiting dropship.

"Genji?" she asked.

He turned, and looked at her.

"Thank you," she said. "For coming back."

He said nothing. He just turned, looked at her, and finally, gave her a nod, before continuing his journey back to the craft.

After one last glance at the Eifel Tower, Angela followed him.

A/N

Y'know, having seen Zero Hour, I'm left to ask how Paris was apparently evacuated so quickly. What, did they leave just one police officer and an omnic to evacuate the people? 0_0

Update (13/12/19): Corrected spelling of "scheisse."