Widowmaker and Sombra sat alone outside the office. Distinct arguments could be heard inside as the wraith cursed at his employer, most likely due to his attention to his personal vendetta – it seemed as if he feels that Talon has neglected his terms of serving with them and needed to push the boundaries further.

The racket grew louder as the scratched voice of Reaper bellowed inside, a much softer but similarly stern voice firing back. Widowmaker shook her head as she placed her rifle against her lap and slowly cocked the magazine in place and looked down her scope.

"You look stiff Araña. Something going through your mind?" Sombra said.

"That's none of your business Sombra."

"Sheesh, relax. Your emotionless expressions make me wonder what kind of web you're spinning."

Widowmaker turned her head and narrowed her eyes; "It would be a shame if something happened to you on our next mission. It would be a real pity."

Sombra paid no heed towards her comment and merely smiled, brushing her hair to the side and winking at her companion. Widowmaker scoffed, returning to her inspection.

Well that was the end of that conversation – if you even call it a conversation.

The office door turned and a furious Reaper walked out, turning his head to the two as the door closed behind him.

"We're moving out." Reaper said, quickly walking down the corridors with his companions catching up to him shortly after.

"What's the mission this time big guy?" Sombra asked.

"We'll talk on the ship." Reaper replied.

"The argument inside the office, what was that about?" Widowmaker said shortly after.

"None of your business." The wraith said with little patience, his fists beginning to ball. "We need to get to the ship fast."

"Someone's cranky as usual." Sombra yawned, "Let me guess. Talon not doing enough for your little revenge quest?"

Reaper was silent, not a word escaped from his mouth – his anger would be scary enough, but his silence is more threatening than anything he has done before. Widowmaker glanced at Sombra with a hesitant look; Sombra returned the glance with a more worried approach.

The landing pad already had a ship docked for their embarking. They clambered onto the ship and sat around an electronic briefing table. Reaper prattled on about the regular mission – assassination, it was nothing special as it was just another contract to him, a thrill for Widowmaker and a burden for Sombra.

The trip would take long, and none of them wanted to think about the trip back.

Exhausted.

Tired.

Drained.

Sombra leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes with a sigh, sweat running down her temple, running down her neck and sliding into her suit. Widowmaker could be seen breathing heavily through her nose, not a single drop of sweat coming from her as expected, though her grip on the rifle slipped occasionally as the hovership swayed in motion. Reaper looked to the ground, his firearms holstered inside his coat with distinct splatters of blood printed against his armor – the rise and movements of his chest moved back and forward, quiet pants could be heard behind his mask to regulate his breathing.

The three were spent, this assignment was something the trio needed – but it might've been one of the more complicated ones to date. Agh, it didn't matter. The mission was a success and that was all that mattered, they didn't even want to think about the procedure they had to go through.

"That was such a draaaag." Sombra said as she kept her head up and stared at the ceiling.

"More like fucking exhausting." Reaper said shortly after. Widowmaker kept quiet before muttering, "It was a delightful kill. Though I must admit, it did stress my muscles slightly."

"Slightly?" Sombra asked, "I think this is the only time we've actually seen you even breathe araña."

"Hrmph." The sniper scoffed, "Fatigue is for the weak. Once a web is woven the spider will always go for the kill."

"Hmm…" Sombra's eyes sparkled with cheekiness. "Perhaps you'll take a bite out of me one day, 'Spider'." Sombra licked her canine tooth and gave a wink – a wink, which could be interpreted in two ways. One could be interpreted to taunt her, as if she was testing her words back in Talon's headquarters. The other could refer to a more…affectionate proposal. Which of these was her intention, only Sombra would know.

Widowmaker narrowed her eyes; her once satisfied blood lust slowly burning back into life. Sombra knew she had just poked her patience and had no intention of pushing the boundaries further – though she also wanted to see what would happen if she had crossed the line.

"Enough." A low growl ached. Sombra and Widowmaker froze as their eyes turned towards the wraith. Reaper turned his head and clenched his fists, "Widowmaker…you once told us to stop acting like children. Now I intend to say the same. Stop. Acting. Like. Children."

And with that the wraith was silent, turning his head back around and not even batting a single eye towards them. Widowmaker shook her head and ignored Sombra, looking out the nearby window and crossed her legs. Sombra closed her eyes once more and leaned back, wiping the sweat off her brow and shaking it off her glove. She opened her eyes soon after, glancing towards the wraith – his mask facing forward towards the front windshield of the hovership.

All jokes aside, Sombra held her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, smirking a devilish smile. What goes on in that girl's head is beyond what anyone could possibly think of, but if a girl like her is to survive – being unpredictable is essential.

A few days had passed, allowing the trio to rest.

Widowmaker squeezed her eyes tight as she planted her back against the moist wall of her bathroom. The warm water trickled down her violet skin, pellet after pellet – steam beginning to fill the room as the duration of her shower dragged on. She planted her hands against the wall, fire burning against her yellow eyes. Widowmaker didn't like Sombra. Not even the Christmas drinks were enough to convince her that she wasn't a menace, from the start – since Volskaya Industries, she knew Sombra was a threat. To her, to Reaper, to the entirety of Talon.

She turned the valves, stopping the water and stepped out. She flung her long, messy hair over her shoulder and began to dry herself with a towel from head to toe before putting on a bathrobe she hung on the door. As she left the bathroom, she closed her eyes and began rubbing her hair with the towel, her bare feet meeting the cold wooden floor. Her eyes opened, and to her surprise – a dark figure sat on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, clearly impatient and irritated.

"Never heard of knocking?" Widowmaker said as she threw the towel aside and began tying her hair back into a neat ponytail.

"You wanted to meet. I'm here. Get on with it." Reaper replied with a dark tone.

"Hmph, very well." Widowmaker said as she disregarded how he managed to sneak into her room. She walked towards her wardrobe and opened it – displaying her velvet field gear. She glared over her shoulder and gave a sharp stare.

"Do you mind?"

Reaper shook his head as he turned his back to the sniper, "Why did you call me here so urgently? In case you didn't know…I'm tired."

"I don't mean to soak up your precious time Death. However…" She said as the tight latex snapped against her back, the sound echoing throughout the room. It sent chills down the wraith's spine, "It's a matter of urgency."

"Then talk." Reaper replied harshly. Widowmaker adjusted her hard boots and crept behind the wraith, running a finger across his shoulder and slowly walked in front of him.

"It's about our friend, Sombra."

"What about her?"

"You and I both know she can be either a valuable ally, or a detrimental enemy. We've already discussed this during our time at the cafeteria no?"

Reaper unfolded his arms and walked forward, their eyes centimeters apart from each other.

"Yeah…we have. And we agreed to continue to monitor her and see what she's up to, and so far she hasn't done anything against Talon. Annoying I'll give her that, but so far reliable."

Widowmaker narrowed her eyes and proceeded to fold her arms and lean her weight on one leg.

"You are a fool if you believe that she can be trusted."

"I never said I trusted her." Reaper said, "However she hasn't done anything that's going to collapse the status quo has she?"

The sniper was silent, for a short time the room was quiet before Reaper slowly walked towards the door.

"If there's nothing else, I'm going back."

Then he felt an unexpected hand shoot out from behind him, tugging his trenchcoat towards the slim figure. Widowmaker's eyes burned that fiery glow, her fingers wrapped tightly around the open vest, pulling them closer so that their eyes practically met.

"I'm warning you Death. She is a threat, and she cannot be trusted."

Reaper growled as he shot out of the woman's grip and turned his back, "Warning noted. Now let me rest for Christ's sake."

And with that he opened the door and closed it behind him, leaving the infuriated sniper alone to her thoughts.

Sombra glared at the holographic screen in front of her. Her chin rested against her forearms as the restless hacker swiped the screen to display a photo, accessed from the old archives of what's left of Overwatch's database. It wasn't easy obtaining stuff like this, it was hard enough to access Talon's systems in the first place, however with enough time – Sombra can take anything.

The photo showed a sublimely younger Reyes, Morrison, Amari and Wilhelm side by side infront of a destroyed Omnic factory. The smiles firmly spread across their faces as their arms were wrapped over each other's shoulders. An interesting relic from the past, the one true sighting of Ghosts. Her violet eyes grew soft as her playful expression turned cold. Envy and pain soon settled as her emotion, even ghosts had friends that would keep them company, not like her – people hate those who are different from them, and Sombra was no exception. She could manipulate others with a whim, coil the clueless around her finger, but in the end they felt betrayed.

Sombra shook her head and swiped the photo aside, switching her screens to monitoring the hacked cameras across Talon's compound. From the corner of her eye she saw Reaper stroll down the corridor and placed his hand over the knob of the door to his room, he paused for a brief moment before pulling his arm back and continued to walk down the corridor.

"Now where's he going?" Sombra muttered to herself, her eyes moving on to the next sector of the screen. Reaper headed towards the bar where Talon operatives could help themselves to beverages, though it was under strict supervision by a sentry that their agents won't intoxicate themselves. Reaper lifted the hood off his head and dragged his mask off his face, ordering the bar tender to pour himself a drink.

Just watching him made Sombra feel parched, she might as well go down there as well – this late at night, Talon wouldn't mind kicking off with a few drinks, hell she might even finally make friends with the big guy.

Reaper held the glass over his lips and downed the liquor in a few gulps and later signaling the bar tender to refill his glass.

"Leave the bottle." He said with a husky growl.

The bar tender did as he was told and went around the back to adjust the arrangements of alcohol.

"Sheesh, first time I've ever seen you take a heart to drinking." A woman's voice said behind him.

"Tch…what are you doing up this late Sombra?" Reaper said with an irritated tone.

"I would ask you the same, mi amigo." Sombra replied, she walked over to a seat next to him and sat down.

"Mind passing me the bottle?" Sombra said as she reached her hand out to grab the bottle. Reaper nudged the bottle into the woman's grip and poured the yellow liquor into a glass she pulled from beneath the counter.

"Well…I'm just having a late night drink before I go to sleep. Mi amiga." Reaper said as he took the bottle and poured himself to the brim.

Sombra narrowed her eyes and she held the glass against her purple lips, sipping the contents and placing it back over the wooden counter.

"You don't like me much do you?"

Reaper paused for a brief moment, finding the words to say.

"Hmph…I don't hate you. That's a start."

"But Widowmaker is a different story, no?"

Reaper paused once more. This time refusing to say anything.

"I bugged her room while she was away on another mission. Wasn't hard." Sombra snickered as she continued to sip little amounts from her glass. Reaper was alarmed, turning his head and gave her a cold stare. Realising his thoughts, Sombra quickly placed the glass down and gave an innocent laugh.

"Relajate, I just do that to the people I don't trust – or at least to people who try to kill me. Hehehe." Sombra said with an awkward laugh.

"Sure…"

"Besides, a girl like me has to keep one step ahead of everyone else. It's how I survive."

Reaper just stared into his glass, gulping the contents swiftly down his throat and gripped his hand tightly around it. Sombra tilted her head and smiled. She picked up the bottle and poured him a drink, filling the glass to the brim. Reaper took a quick glance towards the woman before turning to the drink and lifting the glass towards his lips.

"Never took you much for a drinker. You always seemed like the sober type to me."

"My metabolism gets in the way." Reaper said as a short, hasty reply. He downed half the contents through his throat before settling his glass down.

"Jesus, you might just be the biggest downer I've ever seen in my life. Do you ever have fun?"

"Well Sombra. Not all of us can have the liberty to prance around and play with codes for a living. Try and keep that in mind." Reaper said as he raised his glass to his lips.

Sombra gave a pouty face as she took a sip from her glass, "Pendejo."

Reaper stopped and narrowed his eyes, "Puta."

"Verga."

"Bruja!"

"Tu feo!"

"Igualmente!"

"El burro sabe mas que tu!"

Reaper paused as Sombra finished that sentence, even cracking a rare smile as he took a sip from his glass, keeping Sombra in his sights in the corner of his eye.

"Where are you from Sombra?" Reaper said with a sudden social tone.

Sombra nearly choked on her drink. She never heard him lighten his voice before but intended to see where this was going.

"I like to spend my time in Dorado, there's a really good bakery there. You should go there some time."

"Dorado huh? That explains your Los Muertos approaches."

"What about you big guy? You must have a home, somewhere you would like to be."

Reaper stopped briefly, a sudden reminisce overcame him as memories of his past rushed through his mind.

"Los Angeles…the City of Angels. I wouldn't mind staying there for the rest of my life. Well, it was my life."

Sombra realised that he was sad; clearly even his home was a source of depression and fuels his vengeance. She shook her head, grabbed the bottle and poured his unfinished drink back to the brim. She settled it back down and raised her glass.

"The past is a bitch isn't it?"

Reaper turned and smiled, raising his glass towards her.

"You're damn right it is."

Their glasses clashed, drops of liquor spilled from the collision and landed over the counter. Tonight it would seem that bedtime would simply have to wait.

The entire compound was quiet, only the Talon soldiers who walked outside the perimeters selected for night duty were awake, besides them there was a room inside the base where the lights were dimly on – and the bar was all but empty, except two figures sitting side by side…laughing.

"Morrison was an idiot. One time while we were patrolling the streets of Numbani after a skirmish, he tripped over an Omnics head and Ana had to catch him before he could hit the ground. The thing was massive and he couldn't even see it!"

Sombra chuckled abruptly; her cheeks were tainted red with intoxication. The bottles beside them only grew in number.

"Dios Mio. Y-your life was a mess." Sombra said as she downed the last of the contents in her glass.

Reaper wasn't any better. His vision was slightly blurred and his mind was spinning.

"Well…at least my life is clear. Unlike yours. We don't even know your real name."

Sombra winked as she carelessly poured herself another drink, missing the glass and pouring some of it over the counter.

"I think you've drank enough." Reaper said as he snatched the bottle away from the woman's hands.

"Hey!" Sombra said with a drunken slur, "Give it…back!"

Reaper chuckled as he poured himself a drink and extended his arm, holding the bottle away from Sombra's reach. Sombra was clearly angry, she extended her arms as far as she could but the longer form of Reaper proved her that she couldn't get it even if she wanted to. Even in a state of drunkenness she thought of a plan.

"Maybe if I could push my leg off my seat, then I can snatch the bottle off from his damned claws."

Sombra smirked as she watched Reaper take a sip from his glass; she pushed her leg off her seat and attempted to grab the bottle from his hand. What could you expect how a plan would turn out when you're thinking of it while you're drunk. Her body collided with his, ultimately pushing both of them off their seats and landed on the floor. Reaper landed against his back and Sombra on top of his chest, cushioning the full force onto his body. The bottle was shattered beside them, Sombra slowly opened her eyes, her body felt limp and her world was spinning around her, but as she regained some sense she realised who she was sitting on.

"Ergh…" Reaper growled as he as well began to open his eyes. The first thing he saw as his world was spinning was a surprisingly clear image. Violet eyes stared into his soul; purple lips were begging to be met. His clouded instinct took the initiative, overcoming all personal control. His gauntlet gripped Sombra by her vest, pulling her forward, their eyes centimetres apart. Sombra closed her eyes as she thought she was going to get hit by him, or at least shouted at.

…

She suddenly shot her eyes open as she felt an object push through her lips. Reaper collided their lips together and dug his tongue into her mouth, making Sombra give off a light moan. She placed her hands on the wraith's shoulders and pushed her tongue against his, closing her eyes and allowed him to take control. She felt his rough beard rub against her chin, his clawed gauntlets reached behind her back, making their way up and down as their tongues wrestled with each other, the taste of sour liquor meshed together as they pulled their lips apart, a strand of saliva attached to each others lips. Sombra felt faint. She began to lose control of her body. Maybe the liquor fell too hard on them. Maybe it was too much for them to handle. She felt sleepy, and before her body seemed to collapse before the wraith. She could see that his eyes slowly closed as well.