Chapter Text
They told the team that they’ll be accepting some Talon agents into Overwatch, join forces and all that nonsense. Something about changes, bla bla bla… Jamison wasn’t really listening, all he heard was the fact they’re taking the enemy in now an they'll all be friends. Nah, he isn’t gonna be friendly with them. Took him a while to get friendly with Overwatch’s agents and they were kind to him, but Talon? If they expect him to work alongside with them they’re in for a big surprise. Well, it shouldn’t be a surprise, Junkrat was very vocal about his thoughts about this whole thing. Roadhog was there to calm him down eventually and deal with it. Jamie isn’t stupid, he knows these people aren’t to be trusted, he didn’t grow up in the Outback to easily trust anyone, especially a weird blue-skinned Frenchie sniper or a muscular man with a huge metal arm for bashing skulls into mush. No way.
There was a lot of paperwork and meetings about this whole thing, took them days to just get them here. Junkrat made sure to remember all their names and faces as best he can, but he did not want others to know that. He’s bad with both of those things, names and faces. He hates the fact that he is but he doesn’t dwell too long on it most of the time. However, he has to know the enemy better. He only knows some of them from being on the field, fighting against them, like Reaper and Widowmaker. Sombra, well, he just knows her. He doesn’t remember how that is. He doesn’t remember a lot. He needs Roadie to remind him sometimes about things. He decided he doesn’t want his bodyguard’s help about this though, so he writes some of the names on the palm of his flesh hand, which he will be able to cover with his glove later on. Amelie Lacroix, that’s the sniper lady, Gabriel Reyes, the edgy skull man, Akande Ogundimu, the fisting dude (he chuckles at that joke to himself, still), Siebren de Kuiper, the floating man, Moira O’Deorain, the… Moira? For some reason he has no trouble remembering her at all, but he still writes her name down along others.
After a long and tense wait from Overwatch, the Talon agents finally arrive and proper introductions begin. Junkrat notices some already seemed to know each other from before with the looks they’re giving each other. Their drama for all he cares. He’s sitting next to Hoggie in the main open area where they usually do the big things such as celebrations, movie nights, karaoke or just get piss drunk. The gargantuan man is more interested in his book than in the new recruits, but Jamison keeps looking back and forth from one new agent to the other, his eyes moving frantically.
“Hey, hey! Jamie!”
He blinks as a hand waves in front of his face and looks up to see Hana, dressed in her more cute outfit, probably to make sure the Talon pricks know she means business. He grins at the thought but as he’s about to point out the outfit, he feels a grip on his shoulder from behind and a familiar row of dreadlocks cover his vision. Junkrat laughs and tugs on them playfully.
“Careful, froggie. I can pull ‘em real good!”
Lucio lifts his head back up with laughter.
“Don’t you dare! Me and D.va were just talking about how we should maybe get to know the new agents. I mean… how do we get to know them?”
D.va puts her hands on her hips and says with a mischievous glint in her eye, “I know Jamie’s with me on this, we should just give them a nice warm welcome with some pranks here and there. Whacha say?”
Junkrat let out a shrill loud laugh, he can’t help it. Imagining the French sniper make a stupid look when she tastes salt in her coffee or seeing the edgy skull guy with flour all over his black clothes-- it would certainly be hilarious.
“No way! Hana, are you nuts?! Don’t tell me you’re serious-- Ana, Angela and Jack will give us the longest lecture ever! Besides… they said we should try and get along,” was all Lucio replied to the gamer, with a rather sombre look.
Jamison was about to agree with Hana, but he felt a movement from his side and looked up to Roadhog. The New Zealander moved his head to stare at the agents. No, wait. He’s staring only in one certain direction, at one particular person. He looks in the same direction to see what or who Roadhog is staring at and he sees her: Moira. She seems to be having a conversation with Angela, no doubt something rather sour by the looks on their faces. Junkrat tries to take in the image of the doctor that everyone seems to dislike: the red short hair, the high cheek bones, that calculating and intelligent look. He looks up to his partner while his two friends are bickering and asks, “What is it, Roadie?”
The man just gives out his usual grunt, the one that meant “nothing,” basically saying it’s not worth talking about and that was that. Junkrat couldn’t stay there any longer, he doesn’t know why, he enjoys the noise. He has to be in a noisy place, it makes him able to think, else he hears the constant annoying ringing in his ears and his own awful thoughts that rush through his brain at the speed of sound. However, right now, he needs to be with his thoughts. At least that’s what he thinks.
“I’ll go get some work done then, eh?” He gave his bodyguard his signature grin and hobbled off to the workshop which was currently empty. He shared it with others but mainly Satya and Torb. His side of the shop is on the left, messy and disorganised, at least that’s how others would describe it. What they don’t know is that Jamie knows exactly where to find his things and where to put them, he’s just an organised chaos sometimes. Symmetra’s side is the cleanest, meticulously cared for and not a speck of dust on her table. Torbjorn’s side is here and there, organised but still messy sometimes. Jamison enjoys being with them in the workshop at the same time, they actually get along quite well, but right now he isn’t there to work or to talk with friends, so he sits on his chair and huffs while leaning with his elbows on the table. He has no damn idea what he’s doing here or what to think, he just has to get his thoughts a little more under control. The damn ringing however, still gives him no peace, so he turns on his radio to a random song and finally relaxes more. Only now can Jamie begin to work when feeling the familiar twitch of his fingers. He's ready to make some new bombs for target practice. Now and then a thought pops up: why was Roadie looking at Moira? Did he recognise her? Did she do something bad? Ah, shouldn’t be much. He’s always such a worry wart, that guy. He’s probably looking at every Talon agent in the same way Junkrat is looking at them: like a potential enemy. So they have to at least know their tricks, abilities and gear.
The week after Talon agents became part of Overwatch flew by with Junkrat spending a lot of time in his workshop, tinkering away with music or if too late at night, with his own muttering and humming. He needs to make more of his bombs, he used up quite a lot on the last mission. He made some for the practising range as well as he wants to try out something new. He feels odd seeing some Talon agents there like Doomfist and Reaper and he always feels as if someone is watching him. He doesn’t like it. Maybe it’s that Sombra, she has that annoying invisibility thing going on. If he hits her one day on the range with one of the bombs by accident, that’s on her, not on him!
One late night or almost early morning at that point as he was trying to untangle a bouquet of wires for his mines and most of the organisation was probably asleep, he put his guard down. He didn’t expect anyone or anything but for some reason he heard footsteps only when they were far too close. Was he really not paying attention? In the Outback he knows he’d be dead by now, you cannot react this late to sounds. It’s probably his hearing, too much bombing over the years. He snaps back at the potential threat so fast he thinks he saw the shape jolt slightly, but it was her, the doctor from Talon. Moira.
The woman only smiles at him with her hands together in front of her.
"Pardon, I thought I heard something and went to see. You must be Jamison, correct?"
She has a sharp look to her, her facial features are not as soft as he originally thought they would be, her hair is a beautiful shade of red and both her eyes are a different colour, one red one blue. Her thin lips, like his own, make for a wide smile that is somehow… comforting.
"You're one of them new sheilas-- but you ain't Sombra and your skin ain't blue, so you're the uh," he scratches his chin in order to pretend he doesn’t know her name. He doesn’t want to give an impression of being a weirdo or someone who actually cares about Talon, especially not a doctor. Doctors are all suspicious to him. "Moira. You're Moira."
She straightened her back more and put her hands behind her back, she seems proud that he knew her name and for some reason that peeves him in that moment. Doctors, full of themselves...
"I am. So, Jamison-"
"Junkrat," he immediately interrupts. He isn’t on a first name basis with this stranger and he isn’t eager for any small talk with her. Like the rest of ex-Talon agents, she will find him annoying and disgusting, much like Overwatch did when the Junkers first joined in. He’s no idiot, he might as well get her to hate him already before she comes to that conclusion herself.
"I apologise," she chuckles, "Junkrat. It is very late, why don't you rest? I've been hearing noises for a while now. I know my sleep schedule isn't the best... but you are one of the brave ones at the front lines and dealing with such a delicate thing, explosives. I am a bit worried about you."
Worried? About Junkrat? Usually people are worried about Junkrat in a different manner; worried about him doing something that might cause harm or annoyance to others, but worried about him? What’s her game? Does she want his spot in the workshop?
"What's it to you? I'm jus' doin' my work. Just like you,” he almost snarls back. He still doesn't let go of the mine and the wires, if this woman should know anything about him right now it’s that he is ready to blow them both up sky high if she makes any wrong moves.
"Then perhaps it's time we both go to bed?"
Oh. He gets it now. She’s all alone and lost in a brand new place, he knows that feeling. He was the same when he first joined this gang, they all knew where everything was but the Overwatch headquarters are pretty damn big. He remembers sleeping in the workshop when unable to remember where his and Hoggie’s room was the first week. Moira just needs some help, but she’s probably too embarrassed to ask, being a big shot doctor and all.
He puts the mine and tools down and aside on the table and gets up. He stretches to his full height quickly to crack his back and also gives her a good view of his full height, in case she thought he was a tiny and easy to kill man. Surprisingly, they’re the same height, which slightly unnerves him but he quickly pushes past it. He is still the one with bombs strapped to his shoulders, although Moira does not seem to even bat an eye at that fact.
"Alright, need me to walk ya to your room?"
The doctor smiles and nods, replying, "That would be very kind of you, Junkrat."
She seems alright. Perhaps he misjudged her. After all, not all quacks are bad. Mercy’s an alright doctor.
"Nah, mate, call me Jamie if ya want. All my friends do."
"Jamie,” she repeats, still smiling with a quiet hum.
They walked to Moira’s room together, her calm yet firm footsteps caused less noise than his own while he was trying his best to be as quiet as possible. He learned that running in the hallways or being too loud overall at that particular hour at night earns him a big scolding. He’s pretty good with small talk when needed, but is it needed? He doesn’t know why but he tries anyway.
“This is where Mei is, this is Zarya’s room—she’s the big one with all the muscles. Mei’s the frosty one, hah,” he scratches his nose in thought while telling more about things he sees on the way.
“Oh, this here’s the practice range, go on and use it anytime ya want.”
“Do you use it,” she inquires.
“‘Course I do, it’s one of the best things to just go nuts and nobody yells at me for it,” he cackles as quietly as possible, “you can come see it but if ya get hurt while I’m messin’ around that’s on you.” He offers her a playful grin and she returns a chuckle. It feels good, she genuinely seems … nice.
“So, how big do the explosions get while you practice?”
That got him going, he grins even wider. He can never get tired of speaking about them.
“Oh. Huge, mate. Huge,” he emphasises with a hand gesture. “Not my biggest booms though, can’t blow the whole place off the map, ya know?”
She lets out a small delightful laugh.
“You are charming, far less of a prude than others. You also don’t have a fake kindness draped over your real personality. I really appreciate that.” She looks at him with a narrowed but kind stare, one that tells him the doctor can relate. It makes him return the same knowing look.
“Thanks, guess so far you seem about the same then by sayin’ that.”
She nods and steps in her room before looking at him.
"Thank you, Jamie. Have a good night."
He stutters a bit, he doesn’t know why, but quickly replies, " 'course, good night, Moira."