Underneath the newly risen Korean sun, an alarm clock was beeping. The owner, Nate Page, reached a lazy hand out of bed and hit the sleep button. After a minute or so, he resolved to sit up on the edge of his bed, put his slippers on, and make his way into the kitchen.

Nate was now 21 years old. He was slightly skinnier and healthier looking than he had been when he had won a V.I.P meeting to Hanamura, Japan, to meet his idol Hana Song (also know by her online alias D. Va) six months ago.

Sometimes, Nate thought about his old life – it seemed to him like a lifetime ago. Previously, he would have been woken up by a limited edition D. Va alarm clock that shouted her signature catch phrase, "Nerf This!". After his meeting with D. Va however, he had decided to sell all of his merchandise for a not insignificant amount of money, something which his past self would have considered unthinkable and unforgivable.

Why had he taken such a drastic action? It was because he no longer needed posters, figurines and other assorted merchandise of his muse; asleep in a room upstairs was Hana Song herself, in the flesh, sleeping softly in her bed before she woke up to another day of streaming to her millions of followers.

Nate was D. Va's personal assistant. He cooked her food, managed her social media, set up her streaming equipment, and did any number of other small odd-jobs that needed doing so that she could focus on her career as both a professional gamer and a member of the recently re-formed Overwatch, the international peacekeeping force that had been vital in defeating the omnics during the Omnic Crisis. In secret, Nate was also her boyfriend. Nobody but themselves knew this, not even her agent. If anybody were to find out, it could irreversibly damage her public image.

Hana Song's secret lover started his first chore of the day. He fetched the mail from the postbox and emptied the bulging black bag onto the kitchen table. A celebrity as huge as D. Va got a lot of fan-mail, and it was one of his responsibilities to make sure that she was seen as active and caring toward her loyal followers. That wasn't to say that she wasn't, but unfortunately there just weren't enough hours in the day to stream and read hundreds of letters (which didn't even include the electronically-sent fan-mail, of which there was at least ten times more of).

Nate started to sort D. Va's fan-mail into various piles: one for just plain-and-simple letters of admiration, one for letters that requested signatures (she took pride in always fulfilling requests for signatures), and one for genuine mail which required her attention. The final pile was always the smallest, and days could pass where there was nothing in it at all.

Nate had sorted through more than half of the pile when, as he was reaching for the next letter to hand, a strange looking envelope caught his eye. He picked it up and looked at it: it was a metallic grey, and the front of it didn't actually have D. Va's postbox address on it. Instead, it had the distinctive Overwatch logo on the front – a white circle with the upper portion coloured orange, and the centre filled with what to him looked like two hands reaching up to high-five. It was heavier than an ordinary letter should be, and turning it around he noted that on the back was a black circle with a silver outline stamped on the envelope fold, like a futuristic wax seal.

"Probably important," Nate thought to himself, and placed it into the third pile.

Hana rubbed her eyes and yawned as she descended the stairs and turned the corner into the kitchen. She was dressed in nothing an oversized pink shirt with her signature bunny icon, and her underwear. She said good morning to Nate, who was busy preparing her breakfast, and sat at the empty table waiting hungrily for food.

He walked to the table and placed her breakfast, an egg toast sandwich, in front of her. He walked around to the opposite side of the table with a plate of the same for himself and sat opposite her. He placed the envelope with the Overwatch logo in front of her and began to eat.

"Oh, an assignment?" she asked, and picked it up.

"I couldn't find a way to open it, so I have no idea what's inside," Nate replied.

"Fingerprint ID envelope," she explained. She turned the envelope onto it's back and pressed her finger into the black and silver button. For a moment it did nothing, and then it lit up with a dim blue light. She opened the envelope with ease and slid out the item enclosed – a small piece of printed card roughly the same size as the envelop.

Nate looked at the back of the card – it was a wide postcard, showing a beautiful Mediterranean island with white and blue buildings at sunset. "What does it say?" he asked.

"It's confidential," she replied. She saw Nate's disappointed expression and grinned. "Nah, I'm just kidding. Here, you read it." Nate took it from her and read the message on it.

Dear Hana,

You are invited to a weekend of sun, sea, and relaxation on the island of Ilios!

We will be holding an Overwatch social gathering and team-building meet-up. Plus-ones are welcome to join too.

Be ready to leave from your nearest helipad on the coming Friday.

Your pal,

Winston

It was currently Monday morning – the event was in four days time.

"I thought Overwatch was meant to be a peacekeeping force, not a holiday resort," Nate said sarcastically, putting the card on the table and returning to his breakfast.

Hana finished chewing and swallowed. "When you're on missions together, you have to be able to put absolute trust in your teammates. Being friends and doing trust exercises helps a lot," she explained to him.

Nate nodded, still not entirely convinced. What other armed special forces unit had beach trips? That train of thought was quickly replaced by thoughts of Hana and her female colleagues in swimsuits, playing beach volleyball. He smiled to himself, then caught Hana's eye.

"You're thinking something perverted, aren't you?" she accused.

"What, no!" he quickly defended himself, but his voice didn't sound convincing to either of them. "I was just thinking that it's going to be interesting to meet your co-workers in Overwatch."

"Who says I'm taking you with me?" she teased. "Why would I need a personal assistant with me on a tropical island?" Nate frowned and went back to eating his breakfast, ignoring her. Hana had already cleared her plate, so she stood up and playfully punched his shoulder as she walked past.

"If you're good this week, maybe I'll think about taking you," she continued, smiling. "Come on, hurry up and finish eating. I need to start streaming in 20 minutes."

The week passed quickly without event, and when Friday morning came Hana responded to Nate's despondent question of his company with a sweet kiss on his cheek. "Of course you're coming with me, silly."

They waited patiently on her rooftop helipad, excited and slightly nervous for the coming weekend. Nate was in plain shorts and a blue Hawaiian floral shirt, whilst Hana was wearing a short purple skirt with a white t-shirt and pink shirt over the top.

In the distance, a dropship came into view. It got larger and larger as it approached – much larger than Nate was expecting for two-person transport – and finally it lowered itself gracefully onto D. Va's house. A door in the middle hissed open, doubling as a ramp into the vehicle, and the two boarded: first Hana, and then Nate followed behind her carrying both of their suitcases.

The interior was similar to the larger Orca drop ships that were used on Overwatch missions, but differed in that it was a little more suited to comfortable personnel transport over pre-mission preparation. On one half were two corner sofa's that followed the edge of the ship, with a coffee table in the centre at roughly knee height. In the middle of these were the stairs up to the cockpit of the vehicle. The other half of the ship was fitted with a holo-table, currently displaying a projection of a globe, and a basketball hoop mounted to the top of one corner with a rack of basketballs underneath it.

Hana quickly made herself comfortable on one of the corner sofas and kicked her feet up on the table, whilst Nate stowed their luggage away carefully in one of the racks that was built into the side wall of the ship.

"Are you ready for take-off?" cried a voice from the cockpit, making Nate jump – he had almost forgotten that there would be a pilot on board.

"Roger!" shouted Hana in the affirmative. Nate made sure he was standing well back from the door as it hissed shut, and quickly found a seat next to Hana as the vehicle lurched upwards, making his stomach feel briefly weightless. Once the ship had reached the altitude necessary, it transitioned to horizontal movement, which Nate found much more agreeable; were it not for the fact that he could see the landscape zooming beneath them out of the small, square windows dotted around the edge of the ship, he could have convinced himself he was on a train rather than a high-tech VTOL people carrier.

"Hey," Hana suddenly whispered into Nate's ear, scooting herself along the sofa until she was next to him, "want to join the mile high club?"

"What about the pilot?" Nate whispered back as Hana moved her hand to his thigh.

"Don't worry, we're in his blind spot," she assured him as she started to rub his crotch whilst kissing his neck. She felt him stiffening and pulled his shorts down slightly. His shaft sprang out of his underwear and she smiled, leaning over and taking him in her mouth – first the head, and then slowly taking more and more of him down her throat.

Whilst she did this, Nate moved his hand slowly down her body, finally resting it on her buttock. He slid his hand up her skirt and under her panties, his fingers searching for and finding her already moistened slit. She moaned, mouth full of his cock, as he began to rub her.

He slowly slid his middle finger inside of her, making a gentle circular motion with it and stretching the sides of her hole. By now he was fully hard; Hana had her hand firmly grasping the base of his dick, motioning it up and down in rhythm with her mouth. Whilst still inside of her with his finger, Nate twisted his hand so that his thumb rested against her butt-hole, and applied pressure. Hana moaned again.

Too excited to wait any longer, she moved Nate's hand away and sat back up. She stood up and wriggled out of her panties, letting them drop down her legs and hang around one of her ankles. Then she sat on Nate's lap, her knees either side of him, and guided his cock inside of her. She gasped quietly, and she held still for a second to catch her breath.

Their eyes met, and then their lips. Hana began to steadily rock her hips back and forth as their tongue's danced inside of each other's mouth. Hana ran her hands through Nate's short hair, whilst he ran his hands down her body and placed them at her waist, pushing her deeper and helping her rhythm.

They continued for a few more minutes, slowing and quickening as they helped each other reach their limits – the many months practise they had since Nate had moved into her house meant that they had gotten very good at satisfying each other.

When he felt that the time was right, Nate put his arms around Hana and stood, lifting her up whilst he was still inside of her. He lowered her onto the table and climbed on top of her. He could thrust inside of her harder and deeper from this position, which he started to do. Hana moaned loudly and gripped his back, burying her face into his neck.

Finally, he felt Hana's legs tighten and shake, and at the same moment relaxed and released what he had been holding back. They gasped and moaned in unison, as Hana felt his warm fluid fill her up, her face a picture of ecstasy. Nate collapsed, careful not to put too much of his weight on her, and she loosened her tight grip; underneath his shirt, red nail marks would be visible for the next few hours.

"Everything okay back there?" cried the pilot, who had heard a noise but couldn't quite work out what it was.

"Aww yeah!" Hana replied, breathless.