Sombra has some time off, so she spends it trying to relax. And when McCree happens to walk into the same bar she’s drinking at, she comes up with the perfect plan to do it. It’s all a matter of getting the words right.
This was meant to be a drabble as part of a commission, but it got much longer than anticipated. Oops…?
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It had started, like many good things do, in a bar.
Sombra had been paying her hometown a little visit
between jobs, which of course meant breakfasts of sweet breads at Panadería las
Nieblas and nights of drinking at Calaveras. It was just to take the edge off,
really; and while there were a number of shady clientele at this bar (herself admittedly
included), the atmosphere was friendly enough. Don’t ask me and I won’t ask
you was the law of the land here. Honor
among thieves.And the bar holds many memories for her, besides.
One of which has just walked in.Sombra is sitting at the bar minding her own
business when she catches the all-too-familiar sound of heavy bootfalls and
jingling spurs. She doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Jesse McCree; doesn’t
have to look up when he sits down beside her. She just knows.“Whiskey,” he orders, then after a pause adds, “On
the rocks. It’s hot out.”
Technobabble
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