After much begging, 76 finally decided to do the thing. Join Overwatch. Or rather, rejoin Overwatch. It was mainly Mercy's puppy dog eyes that did him in. She also made valid points about how if the team got shot, she couldn't run over to help take care of his wounds. If he truly wanted 76% of her attention, he needed to join the team.

Sighing, he found himself standing in the doorway of the small compound. It was nothing fancy and one he had raided at least a dozen times before.

Hands in the air, his expressionless face (makes sense when you wear a mask, right?) brought the attention of trained guns on his body. Tracer, DVa, Lucio, Symmetra–everyone was ready to pull that trigger, pending his move.

"76," her happy purr caused the team to pull their hardened gaze off the trespasser. "So glad you decided to join us. Now, per protocol, I'm going to need to do some basic tests. If you would just grab your things and follow me, we can b–"

"Mercy," Winston's stoic gaze caused her to flinch.

"Yes?" She held her breath while keeping her chest high. She wouldn't back down; she knew to stand her ground. She'd seen the others do it and so could she.

"What is he doing here?"

"Joining Overwatch," she stated promptly. "I invited him. He finally accepted."

Tracer bounded around the familiar man a few times before nodded that he looked clean. "Don't see anything suspicious." She laughed. "I say we trust him, especially if good old Merc is going to give him the full inspection." Her nose crinkled at that comment before she zipped away. She knew better than to stick around for these kind of serious conversations.

McCree didn't seem moved one way or the other. He just didn't want to find out some traitor was beneath the mask. "Sure we can trust him?"

"Won't know until I open him up," Mercy said with a grin.

"Open… what?" 76 shifted back. Why was she going to be opening him up? He wasn't a dead body. He was very much alive.

"Teasing," she quipped before stepping forward to direct him to her bay. "It's nothing much, but you know this as someone has been raiding my supply." Her sharp blue gaze bore into him, causing him to sag his shoulders slightly. "It's fine. I'm well on top of things."

Winston still protested but knew it was all for naught. Angela would inspect 76 with or without his consent. Her findings thereafter would be the thing to question. Did he seem stable? Was he capable? Did he pose a risk? Just who was he? Mercy would soon have the answers and the collective group could make the call–let Soldier 76 join or turn him into the authorizes, as he was a wanted man.

"Right this way," she said while stepping forward to get the door. "Pardon the mess," she began. "Just keep going straight and take that door at the end there."

His brow quirked.

"As you can see, this is my room. The last door ended up rusting so the hinges need replacing. For now, everyone needs to walk through my room to get to the med-bay." She didn't seemed phased by it, which surprised him. Didn't she want to keep her personal life… well, private?

Unable to resist temptation, his eyes soaked everything up. From every overturned piece of paper with hand-written notes on the back to the picture of he, Reyes, and her taking a 'selfie' together to the lovely orange sheets on her bed. Why, he even caught the straps of a very familiar night gown hanging out the edges of her dresser, which caused him to smirk inside. She still had that. That sexy little outfit that she would slip on from time to time to rile him up.

When was the last time she used it? He shook the question from his head. He didn't want to know who Angela was grinding up against since his supposed death.

Almost to the door, he caught something out of the corner of his eyes. There, on the floor beneath the bed was something that looked all too familiar.

Without any thought, he turned course and wandered over to it. Pulling it from the floor, a wave of memories lapped over him. This thing, this damn cat plushie with the yellow fur, blue eyes, and blue jacket, she still had it?

Stroking it gently, a grin grew on his masked face. She still had it! The cat he won her after hours of struggling to win the rigged game.

Completely engulfed with the sight of the thing, he sat on her bed. His guard was down and his facade was starting to slip. The longer he looked at this, the more the old Jack started to shine through.

Then it hit him. Jumping up off the bed, he went to step toward the door but met a body instead. Her gasping caused him to drop the cat plush and grab her instead. Tugging her body into his chest, 76 found her scrutinizing gaze boring into his soul.

She knew.

She absolutely knew.

"Where did you find this," her foot tapped against the floor. She looked pissed, as if he wasn't supposed to find it. "Don't make me ask you again," she growled with grit teeth.

"Uh," 76 stepped back, hating the way she stared into his masked eyes. "Under the bed. I saw the," he gestured with his hands, "tail sticking out." Perhaps he could recover. Maybe she didn't know. He just had to play on.

"I had been looking for this for ages." Her hardened face softened as an angelic smile graced her features. "It was a gift from a friend." The way she blushed made it obvious it was more than just a friend.

"Just a friend," he had to see what she would say.

"Guilty," she rolled her eyes away while the blush grew, "we were more than just friends."

"Lovers?" Soldier had to know. What had Mercy been doing in the 5 years he had been gone. Did she move on? Was there still hope?

Without hesitation, she answered. "Yes." Holding up the plush, she sighed happily. "We were destined to be together. We were from two different lives and Overwatch brought us together. It wasn't that love at first sight crap either," she admitted. "I hated his guts. He was a cocky boy who was constantly getting whoever he wanted. I didn't want to be one of his one-night-girls. But he broke me. Or rather, I broke him." She smirked. "Though he never was a player. He just asked like one." Stroking the fuzz between the stuffed cat's ears, she moved to the bed. "It's silly," she confessed, "I know. Keeping something like this around. But…it's all that I have left of him. Well, besides his shirt but even that's getting worn down."

"Shirt?" 76 didn't remember giving her a shirt.

"Yeah, I never gave it back." She laughed. "After our first real night together, I had to run back to the lab before a morning inspection. I couldn't wear the same outfit as I had on the day before–as too many complimented it–so I stole one of his shirts." She breathed in heavily. "I can still smell his cologne on it, though I know it's long since faded."

Soldier 76 moved to the bed, joining her on its edge.

"Guess we can start with the mental side of things." She rolled her sapphire gaze his way. "So, have you any mementos?"

How could he respond to that? He had half a dozen. He had two pictures of he, Angela, and Reyes. Then two more of he and Ang together. There was also a picture of his cat Skippy. And the last one? It was what helped him during buildups. She had no idea it existed, but Jack couldn't part with that racy image of Angela in nothing but a transparent orange nightgown–that same one playing peek-a-boo with him.

"An old photo," he caved in.

"Oh?" Her head tilted to the side. "Of?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Oh come on, I'll tell you the story about this cute little cat if you tell me what your picture is of!" She wiggled the cat in front of his face. He knew the story but Soldier 76 wasn't supposed to. To keep up with appearances, he sighed while nodded.

"Soooooo?" She was curious, what did the mysterious 76 carry in his wallet.

"It's my cat."

"What." Her voice was flat. "What's the big secret."

"Can't let anyone know," he said with a bit of a sassy undertone. "Wouldn't want someone to cat-nap him."

Her face went blank for a moment. "Cat-nap." She groaned. "Really?"

He chuckled. She was the same old Angela. Always hating on his cat jokes. "What?" He shrugged. "Not feline the jokes this evening."

Her brow twitched. "That's it. You don't get the story. You march your perfect ass into that med-bay right this second, mister."

"You mean purrrrrrfect ass." Scooting from the bed, he dashed the door. Once on the other side, he closed it. She couldn't get in so he was safe to continue firing off the world's worst cat puns.

"Soldier 76," she growled, "let me in right this instance!"

"What's the meow-gical word?" She knew he had a gleam in his eyes just from the way he spoke to her.

"Ugh!" Her fist slammed against the door. "You are absolutely the worst. I rescind my invite. Leave. Now."

"Right meow?"

Head falling against the door, she banged it a few times. "Why. Do. People. Like. You. Exist."

Opening the door, he caught the kind doctor in his arms once again. "To make your job a living hell," he said while gazing down at her; his visor still protecting the identity on the other side.

"Did you know Jack Morrison," she asked off the cusp.

His brows furrowed. Shit, was she onto him?

"I only ask because he wrote the book for most puns per hour. You might just beat his record. If he were alive, I would introduce you two. You could both drive me up a wall together."

She moved to her desk and pulled out a box. Inside, a whole bunch of individually wrapped needles. 76 stepped back, hating the idea of a blood test. Just one look and she would know it was him.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a little, ol' needle, Soldier 76." Angela sat on her stool before turning it around to face him. Peeling back the paper that kept it sterilized, she leaned forward to pick up something else. A wipe that reeked of alcohol.

Each step back he took meant two slides forward in her wheeled-stool. In a matter of minutes, 76 found himself wedged between a cabinet full of neon-colored tubes and a counter with a plethora of medical devices, each more menacing than the first on it.

He gulped. She rose from her chair.

"Off."

Her command left no room for argument.

Unzipping the leather jacket, 76′s chest began to race within. She would oust him. This would be the end. His secret would no longer be his to ke–

A cold touch caused his skin to shiver with little bumps. He cowered back against the wall, hating every second of this. It wasn't the needle but the secret that she would discover. Not to mention the fear of her discovering his truth–that he never really died.

"It was a county fair. Nothing super big but the whole neighborhood showed up."

"Huh?" 76 dared to look up. He could feel the cloth with the alcohol rubbing against his flesh.

"The cat plush. I promised you a story. Anyway, parking was a bitch but his Jeep Wrangler, Old Blue, as he liked to call it, could do anything. So up the hill we climbed and he parked it on a steep slope. No one else could park there but he knew it could. E-brake on, we got out of the car. We were dumb. Well, he was dumb. Just trying to show off for my pretty face."

His hidden eyes trailed down his arm and over to her face. She was so content. This didn't phase her one bit. There must have been others that protested the needle too (again, not that he was).

"This is just a pinch," she added while indeed pinching him. He wasn't sure why until he looked down to see a rubber band wrapping around his arm. Oh, she was trying to get his veins to pop. "You're a little dehydrated," she said with a bit of annoyance.

"Desert heat will do that to you," 76 added without much thought. Then he realized her silence. He needed to egg her on. "Boyfriend sounds like an interesting fellow. Can't say I wouldn't have done the same."

"Soldier," Mercy's eyes moved up to lock with his. "Are you hitting on me."

"You were the one falling for me not too long ago," he said with that sly silver tongue of his. He still had it in him; the charm and grace that lured her in years ago.

"Valid point." She smirked while getting a glove. "While we wait, I'm going to listen to your vitals," she commented before moving to listen to his chest.

From the way she smiled, he couldn't help but blush. Thank goodness for that mask. "Heart sounds healthy. A little fast, but it's understandable."

He opened his mouth to talk, but her story took over before he could find the right words to say.

"After parking, we walked down along the grassy knoll until we arrived at the foot of the event. It sprawled out for miles and miles. It was truly spectacular. I'd never seen anything like it before but Jack? Oh, he had been there a thousand times. Taking my hand, he led me to the ticket booth. We got stamped, which meant we were old enough to drink, and then we went in.

"The sights, sounds, and smells overwhelmed me. I wasn't sure where to start. He suggested getting something to drink as we walked around to scoop it out. He bought an IPA for himself and he got me this sweet strawberry beer. It was delicious, so delicious that I told him to get me a bigger one."

She chuckled while pressing her hands lightly against his form-fitting black shirt. "If it hurts, let me know." His nod affirmed her that he heard her. Soon, her fingers started to press lightly against his bones, checking to make sure he didn't have any fractures.

"Like he suggested, she walked the perimeter. Saw everything and soaked it up. Or at least I tried to. On our second pass, he asked where I wanted to go. The chickens looked funny–they had hairy toes–so I asked to go to the animal coop." Her laughter lit up the room and caused her azure eyes to glow and shine. "Oh they were so funny. Someone even dyed one pink. I told Jack I wanted a pink chicken and he said if I ever said something like that again, he would have to find a new girl." She shook her head. "It really was a silly looking bird.

"Once done admiring the chickens, I decided it might be nice to check out the flower displays. A bunch of people, including his mom, had arranged absolutely breathing bouquets. I was in love with the colors and smells. They were so impressive. And the best part? They weren't just flowers. Some used candy, others fruits. It was so creative.

"Jack," she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "that sly little devil, broke away from my side at one point to buy me a flower. Had no idea he was gone until I started to panic. I was lost. He was nowhere to be found. Then I heard a, 'hey,' and someone shoved a flower behind my ear. When I realized the voice, I leaped forward and hugged the shit out of him. Told him to never leave me said again.

"His mom, who was there with camera in tow, took a picture of the moment and still has it on her wall to this day. Claims it was the moment she knew her son had found the one."

For a moment, she sat still, not saying anything.

Reaching out a hand, he laid it across her own and stroked it gently. "Not sure how strawberry beer and flowers relates to that cat." He didn't really know what to say so he figured getting her to tell more of the story would bring back her spark and smile.

"That was after lunch. Lunch, by the way, was the most delicious meal ever. We had a blooming onion and then fried dough." She laughed while patting her flat stomach. "We weren't healthy back then. I'm sure the hotdog we shared didn't help either."

"You were young. I'm sure it just melted away."

"For him, yes. Me, I had to run for weeks."

76 shook his head. "I highly doubt that."

"Deep breaths," she instructed. He did as such and she jotted something down. "Going to pinch you again," she remarked. Again, the light pinch came. He wasn't really sure why until he realized she lied. There was now a needle wedged in the fold of his arm with a piece of tape holding it down.

"Liar," he huffed.

Her smirk caused him to turn his head away. "I know what I'm doing," she teased. "I've worked with children before. Men like you are just big babies that need some coddling."

76 didn't say anything so Mercy prepared the next step–getting the blood.

"We were strolling down this section of games and fun. I wanted to try the balloon popping game; he watched. I didn't do too great so he bought another round. That time, he helped me aim. Popped way more but not enough to win anything impressive so I just took more tickets.

"As we walked away from that game, I caught something out of the corner of my eyes–the most adorable stuffed animal I had ever seen. It had soft, orange fur and crystal blue eyes. Around its back was this long blue coat, much like the type my Jack used to wear. In a heartbeat, I was pointing at it telling Jack I needed it. Absolutely needed it.

"Much to his luck, it was one of those shooting games. He asked the guy manning it what he needed to do to win it for me. Said it was easy. Knock down all the flags in one round. The flags moved, which made it hard, but Jack was a soldier–he was trained to hit a moving target.

"As he turned in his tickets to play, the guy explained that there was only one of the cat I wanted. Said it was a mistake. Was supposed to go to some other event but it got all mixed up. It was of really high quality, unlike all the other prizes up for grabs.

"I was beyond excited. I was going to get this rare cat plush that looked just like Jack, my Jack!"

"You own it, so I take it he won it." 76 interrupted.

"Ha, it wasn't that easy. He sat down, got 11 of them without batting an eye. But that 12th flag? He hit it. It didn't bend. Annoyed, he tried again. This time, he started with the 12th flag. After 3 shots, he got it to bend, but he didn't have enough bullets to knock down the last 2 flags."

She was shaking her head while drawing out the first vile of blood. "He was beyond pissed. The game was rigged and he knew it. They didn't want anyone to win the oops-prize. He tried to cheat, but even that didn't help. He flipped on his tactical visor. Nope, nothing. He couldn't get it. So he kept trying. He was determined to get it. Burning through all our tickets, I eventually told him to walk away. That we could come back later.

"So we went around and he won more tickets at other games. The arm wrestling one, easy. The balloon shots, easy. The ring a fish, easy. The water gun races, easy. He could master all of them but the rifle range that held the prized cat possession."

Setting the vile down, Angela prepped another one. "It was starting to get late. We had seen everything and Jack had more than enough tickets now to play about 25 more rounds in addition to the 15 he did earlier in the afternoon.

"Round after round, he just keep getting flummoxed by that one flag. A crowd was starting to gather and we were getting down to the last few tickets. And the ticket booth had closed. It was one of those now or never moments."

She laughed. "I took him to the side and said he didn't have to keep trying. That no matter what, he was the best shot I knew. That I was having a blast and didn't need that silly cat. That being with him was the best gift he could give me."

Her sigh caused Jack to blush. "He kissed me. Actually kissed me. Right in front of everyone. Said he'd never let his girl down. Claimed he wasn't nearly as smart as me, but he would somehow win.

"He marched up to the counter. Slammed the last of his tickets down. Turned to look at me before nodding his head. He wanted me to come over. Walking over, I sat on the stool next to him. He smiled at me. Then, without looking, fired off 2 rounds. Two rounds without looking. I have no idea how he did it, but in those two shots, he knocked over not 2 but 5 flags."

Angela's smile continued to grow as she started to remove the apparatus from his arm. "He snapped his head forward. Without breaking a sweat, he hit down all the remaining flags and left one bullet in the chamber." She set the tubes down on the tablet beside them before applying pressure to the tiny red dot on his arm. When done, she got up and placed the tubes in front of her Valkyrie suit. In minutes, the results would be ready.

"The man behind the counter nearly fell over. The crowd around us burst into cheers. I," she blushed, "I threw my arms around him and he twirled me around. I remember telling him that he was the smartest man I'd ever met; that he could figure out how to win. The man running the booth got the cat down and handed it to me. I buried my face in it and said I'd never part with it."

She was so happy. Her face completely aglow as she relived the moments. "His kiss was perfect. Scooping me back up into his arms, he nuzzled my face and finally asked me out. Said he couldn't stand not having me, his lucky charm, by his side. I said yes and he carried me all the way to his Jeep."

Angela's hands clasped together. "It was the most magical night of my life. I went to my first county fair, Jack kissed me in public, he won me a rare prize, he asked me out…." She chewed her lip. "We made love in the back of his Jeep on some random dirt road beneath a star-filled sky." Her breathlessness and swooning made 76′s heart race again. "It was amazing. If I could go back to that night, I would. I'd do it all again."

Hands wrapping around her form, she made her confession. "I'd tell him to stop the car. He'd give me the most concerned look, fearful that something was wrong. I'd slip out of the seat and into his lap. Dig my hands through his hair. Press my body against his. Demand his lips kiss mine."

Beep, beep, beep.

Her head turned toward the beeping device that alerted her that the results were ready.

It was now or never.

Hand reaching for her hips, 76 jerked the stool his way. She rolled perfectly into his chest. With her back to him, he freed the mask that hid his identity. Nose burrowing into the nape of her neck, he tilted it up just enough to nip lightly at her ear.

"'I'm yours,' you whispered while rubbing up against me. I wanted it so badly but wasn't sure if you were just high off the moment. But you kept begging. Putting yours hands were they weren't supposed to be." His voice caused Angela's eyes to roll back into her head. Her chest rose and fell with great motions. She was getting worked up, just like she always did before their special evening affairs.

The device revealed his identity: "Strike-Commander Jack Morrison of Overwatch, Killed in A–"

It droned on, but fell to deaf ears.

Aiding her off the stool, Jack hoisted her onto a nearby table. It was empty enough and whatever papers she had on it were now fluttering to the floor.

When their eyes met, her body reeled forward. She hadn't forgotten and it seemed she was thirsty to drink in his passion again.

"J-," she couldn't utter another word more as their bodies met. His lips around hers and her tongue finding its way against his. With deep pants, her eyes mimicked that same look he received so years ago.

She wanted him. She wanted him bad.

Lips falling apart for a moment, he peeled off his belt then pants. She quickly tugged off her shirt and started to hitch up her skirt. Only, Jack was faster. Nose running up her thigh, his lips met the soft black fabric that protected one of his favorite places. Tugging the panties away, he heard her moan.

Oh she wanted to be mad but pleasing oneself was never the same as the real deal. She could scold him later. Cry later. Right now, she needed this. She needed him.

A firm thrust caused her eyes to roll back. God it had been so long since he last entered. It was so hard not to moan his name.

Back arching against the cold metal table, she groaned. His hands were wrapped firmly around her ass, ensuring she wouldn't slide away. Nothing could stop them.

Pulsing around him, she curled her lips up before lifting her chin to see that he too was grinning. Groaning and gritting his teeth.

They wouldn't last. How could they? This was a first for them in a long ass time. And with a rush of memories swallowing them whole, they knew exactly what to expect.

Bliss.

The sound of metal on metal caused Angela to laugh. He was fucking her hard enough to move the table. They were wild like that sometimes.

His body leaned forward, now holding her arms down as they rolled into the final stretch. Neither wanted it to end but Angela couldn't stop herself. The feel of him within her? Ugh, it was enough to cause her body to release around his.

"Sorry," she said with pursed lips.

"Don't be," he retorted before his tempo picked up. Biting her lip, her hands flew to his back, digging into it as he pushed. The vibrations between their bodies finally coaxing out his pent-up supply.

As the rocking slowed and eventually came to a halt, their sweat-covered faces met one more time. A kiss was exchanged before Jack's head fell heavily against Angela's abs.

Their panting prevented either from talking, but both knew what the other was feeling. Their bodies tingled with delight as their hearts continued to race and soar.

"Angel," his voice, full of fatigue, called out to her. "I… I'm s–"

Her hands ran through his hair before cupping his face. "Not now," she pleaded with teary eyes. "I don't want to end on that note."

"Very well," he pulled his head off her stomach before fetching his pants. Once on, he tossed Ang her shirt.

Hand ripping into his skull, he wasn't really sure what to do now. She knew who he was. They said their much needed sex. And now she didn't want to talk.

Good going, Jack.

Shirt on, Angela rolled off the table before shrugging her shoulders. "It's late." She meant that statement rhetorically.

Her bare toes spread against the tiled floor. Hand on the door handle, she turned her azure gaze on him. "You coming?"

Jack quirked a brow as she vanished. What was she talking about? Sheepishly, he followed her to the door. Stopping before it, he glanced over their work. Their mess. A smirk gripped him. He still had it in him.

Flicking the light off in the lab, he stepped into her room. Their, laying on one side of the bed, was Angela. And her hand was patting the space before her.

Looking around, Jack pointed at himself.

"Get in, asshole."

"Yes, ma'am."