In the spirit of lighthearted-ness, here I am again with a WidowTracer fic. I have been thinking as to why this couple is so intoxicating, and I came up with a few answers.

The first- and most obvious answer- is that they would be star-crossed lovers. Such situations are always intriguing, and there are a lot of ways a story can turn out. It can be dark, like Tracer becoming evil, or it can be light, like Widow becoming good. It can be fluffy, with a lot of cheesy romance (my type), or it can be twisted (one-sided, or sadism-masochism). Any way, it gives both authors and readers a wide range of choice, and they can choose those fitting to their taste.

Second, Widowmaker is interesting as a lover. She's basically brainwashed and converted into a cold-blooded killer, and the only thing she's supposed to feel is pleasure of the kill. When this does make her seem sinister and undesirable, she's essentially a blank slate of paper ready to be written on. Imagine a child, new to everything, flustered with anything. Hardly any changes to the idiosyncrasy needs to be made, so she stays relatively in-character no matter what; with some resistance to the brainwashing, she's already waifu material. In my perspective, it's just so fascinating to imagine Tracer doing cute things to an adorably clueless Widowmaker.

Last but not least, both Tracer and Widowmaker are absolutely gorgeous. While my second proposed reason should be true, I would not read nor write a Tracer x Bastion fic. While I do like playing Bastion, that concept is just wrong.

Have I mentioned they are incredibly beautiful and cute? And not the same kind of beautiful and cute. Widow stands out so much with her luscious looks and cold demeanor, while Tracer's delightful and carefree style is endearing. We can now safely add "Opposites Attract" to the "Star-crossed Lovers" point above and we're good to go.

Summary: Overwatch set up an operation as a wild attempt to convert Widowmaker and Reaper to the good side. Everyone has a soft spot somewhere, this part was true. Who that soft spot was, was where Overwatch was wrong. WidowTracer, MercyReaper.

Note: Not terribly evil Reaper. To be honest, I'm kind of having enough stories with Reaper representing such a nefarious character. Well, maybe that's exactly who he is, but I just cannot bring myself to portray him that way. One, it does not fit the "lighthearted" nature. Two,… no, there's no 'two'. I just cannot write that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch.

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Another day, another skirmish. Another clash with Talon forces, in another city. And for another time, Angela 'Mercy' Ziegler was doing what she did best- healing and strengthening her comrades with her trusty Caduceus Staff.

Of course, being a healer meant substantial risk to the Swiss woman. She was lightly armored, sacrificing safety for swiftness as she would be needed in multiple places at once; not only that, she was also barely armed for combat. Being a medic also means her attention was often more directed at her allies, not her enemies. All these pointed out a single fact: If she were caught in the crossfire, she would be dead within seconds.

Should that happened, it would be devastating to the entirety of Overwatch. Mercy was an excellent medic, an angel among men, a beautiful symbol that kept soldiers going both mentally and physically. Thankfully, what Mercy truly excelled at was her ability to stay out of sight, under the radar. Of course, having good ol' Reinhardt being constantly by her side helped; but it could only be thanks to her agility and perceptiveness that kept her from getting sniped.

Which, as of the moment, was not the case.

The winged medic stared straight into the pitch-black barrel of Widowmaker's gun. All it took was a single mishap; her Guardian Angel flew to the wrong place at the wrong time, out of protection range and onto a random rooftop where a particular spider was camping. Even Widowmaker herself was briefly astonished with the sudden serendipity presented to her; however, she was not one to let off such a precious opportunity. Swiftly and professionally, she overthrew Mercy and subdued her with her legs.

As it stood, Mercy lay helplessly on her back, her hand kept in place under the blue-skinned woman's knee. She frantically reached for her blaster before realizing with dismay that it was gone, kicked away by her assailant. The reaching hand was not lucky as it was immediately held down.

"Scheiße…." She swore in German. In her current state of shock, she had absolutely no idea how to get out of this peril. Letting out a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side.

"Just do it, Widowmaker. Do not make me suffer." Mercy relaxed her body and waited for the pain to come.

What greeted her was silence. When that silence stretched on a bit too much, Angela decided to peek at the woman on top of her.

Widowmaker was… smirking? Mercy could not believe her eyes, blaming the sun behind the French. But when she looked again, the amused smirk was still there. And the fact that she was able to look at the assassin's face suggested that the gun barrel was removed; indeed, she had lowered her gun.

"… Vhat are you doing?" The blonde hesitantly asked. "Are you not going to shoot?"

Widowmaker continued to stare. Mercy shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, not fully realizing that her arms are freed at some moment. When she did, she promptly sat up, still eyeing the Talon agent warily. Said agent had retured to a crouching form, the rifle held casually in one hand. Her gaze never left Mercy, even for one moment. Then, she opened her mouth to speak.

"You are… beautiful."

Mercy was dumbstruck. She watched numbly as Widowmaker shot her hook somewhere backwards and leaped away. Still unable to process the amount of W.T.F. that just transpired, she barely noticed her teammates rushing to her with great relief that she was still alive.

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People oftentimes judge by the cover. They looked at what she did, how she did it, and called her "stupid" and "reckless". It was the complete opposite. Lena 'Tracer' Oxton knew everything about being stupid, and the risk involved when doing stupid things. She did do the things people deemed too dangerous, but only for the greater good, not for her pleasure and thirst for the thrills.

Well, maybe just a bit.

With that said, she fully knew what she was getting into when she gave chase after the retreating Talon soldiers. She knew that a few individuals would stay behind to cover for the main forces, and escape if possible. That was, after all, basic retreat strategy; except that whoever did the covering duty often ended up killed. Their roles were sacrificial pawns, giving their lives to buy more time for the others to get to safety. If one agreed to throw away his life, he would definitely put up a good fight.

That did not stop Tracer from exhausting her Blink charges to, well, charge forward.

Straight into Reaper's menacing figure, with his dual shotguns pointing directly at her face.

Gasping in panic, she rapidly Recalled backwards to avoid a point-blank headshot; and thankfully, she made it just in time. A loud gunshot was heard right as she entered the stream of time, successfully keeping her alive. After all, no amount of Recalling would be able to save her if she was dead. Halfway dead, no problem, but not completely dead. Which a direct shot to her head would surely made her.

Lena knew she messed up big time when, through the blurry vision of someone floating within the stream of time, she saw Reaper dissolve into a black cloudy wisp and follow her exact direction. It must have been easy to guess; she have been blinking forward in a straight line after all.

In retrospect, it seemed that knowing everything about stupidity did not prevent one from being so.

That was the last coherent thought that went through the British's mind before she reappeared right inside Reaper's death grip.

She desperately rummaged her mind for escape options. Recall was now on cooldown, no Pulse Bomb available, and she was not even able to use Blink, as even the shift of time could not save her when there was no where to go- the same way she could not blink through walls.

"… Buggers."

Lena silently said her prayers as inevitable doom loomed towards her. Unbeknownst to her, she was smiling- seemingly from the fact that she had not really registered that she was about to die. Thanks to her quick wits and equally quick reflexes, she had gotten away from such situations before- so somewhere deep down she was still thinking that it would be all fine and good.

For reasons unknown, this irrational belief proved to be right.

Tracer's smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a surprised expression as Reaper released his vice grip from her neck- with a throaty chuckle.

"Foolish girl. So pretty, yet so foolish."

The younger girl's jaw dropped open. Did Reaper just… compliment her?

Lena just sat there dumbfounded as her opponent dispersed into his signature dark cloud. She only recovered from her stupor when she heard her teammates' voice surround her. Among the noises of worry and apprehension, someone touched her shoulder. It was Mercy.

"I… saw vhat happened. We need to talk."

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Somewhere in Talon headquarters, 3 hours before the fight.

Widowmaker stood on her balcony, looking idly at the setting sun. It would be night when their forces hit the Overwatch entourage, she thought. She preferred fighting in the dark, since it would give her a sizable advantage against her adversaries.

Speaking of dark…

"What are you doing here, Reaper?"

She had always hated his obstrusive entrance. While he could not get through locked doors, he could just fly through the air onto her outdoor balcony with ease, disturbing her contemplation with whatever he had in mind.

"Our scouts have come back with information regarding our enemies' lineup." This got the assassin's interest.

"Go on."

"Reinhardt, Lúcio, Genji, Tracer, 76, and…" A very brief, almost imperceptible pause, Widowmaker noted. "… Mercy."

The seemingly emotionless woman just… threw her head back and laugh. She continued laughing even when Reaper pointed his gun at her face with an irritated voice.

"Shut. Up."

"Alright. Je suis désolé." The French replied, a smirk still lingering on her thin lips. "I will keep my end of the deal, as soon as you keep yours."

Seeing as the man had yet to lower his gun, Widowmaker's tone became more serious.

"Do not kill Lena."

Reaper did not reply, opting to curtly nod instead. Turning his back to her, he proceeded to leave.

"Wait." Widowmaker called out. The only sign of Reaper hearing was his slowing down slightly.

"If you do catch her, tell her that she's a foolish girl. Pretty, but foolish." It had become a nickname, something she had taken to call the cheerful Brit that had managed to catch her attention.

A grunt came from Reaper, signaling his roger.

"Do you want to say anything to Mercy then?" The assassin continued, with a slightest hint of tease in her voice. If Reaper was pissed, he did not show it. He simply turned back and walked towards her. As he was standing right next to her, Widowmaker can hear a slight whisper that bore no resemblance to his usual intimidating growl.

"That she's beautiful."

She could only look as the man turned into black smoke and flew away.

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That's it for now. Please read and review! Also, PM me if you want to discuss more about WidowTracer.