Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Symmetra took a calming breath. This could not be happening. When she was hired on to hunt down and retrieve this artifact from her employer, they failed to mention that they were not the only party interested. Nor did they mention how extensive the hunt itself was going to be. But she was a professional, and she would finish this job. Failure simply was not an option.

She surveyed the ruins through the soothing blue of her visor, examining her surroundings for a clue. She would need to act swiftly, she had observed the rival party arriving. The two men were loud. Well, one of them was loud. One was massive and wore a face mask, his chest bare, some sort of tattoo on his ample belly. He was silent as the mountain he resembled. The other was the loud one, he was wiry, and from a distance it looked like he had a peg leg, and a metal arm. She subconsciously rubbed her flesh hand over the smooth material of her own mechanical appendage.

He also had a massive tire strapped to his back and a grenade launcher slung over his shoulder, and she didn’t want to stick around for him to start using it. These old ruins wouldn’t be able to withstand explosives, and she didn’t want to be here for when the whole temple collapsed down on top of them from his recklessness. Although the tire was curious, what would he be carrying it around for?

She mulled over these details as she continued her search. Her thorough examination yielded results. She found a secret door off to the side, she pressed the hidden latch and stepped back, wary in case it was boobytrapped. When the room appeared benign she used her gauntlet to make a hard light turret, placing it at the door to guard her six. She didn’t like surprises, and had already had too many for the day.

The room beyond was dark, and she pulled out her electrical torch. She examined around her, looking for the next exit. The room was the beginnings to a series of tunnels, and she cautiously explored them. She sensed they were taking her deeper into the belly of the temple, the temperature kept dropping and the air was getting damper. She willfully ignored the things she occasionally felt scampering by her feet, keep her eyes determinedly forward. After this she would take a long bath, and perhaps burn her boots and buy new ones. She periodically set turrets behind her, hoping to hamper the other two mercenaries if they stumbled upon her path.

After what seemed like ages she came to a large chamber, with a series of columns. The ceiling was so high she couldn’t see it, but it must have reached the surface because a few holes allowed sunlight to filter through. In the center on a huge dais was an ornate throne, a weak beam of sunlight illuminating it. A skeleton was perched on it, wearing an elaborate headdress. In it’s lap was a scroll. She set another turret just outside the tunnel, and used the hard light to construct a wall at its entrance.

She turned back and surveyed the large chamber, looking for a way up onto the dais. Symmetra gritted her teeth, she would need to get to that scroll. She had just headed toward it when the ground trembled. She heard a voice shouting behind her, muffled by the wall she had made and very far off. She quickened her pace to a run. They were not far behind her. When she approached the dais, she used her gauntlet to form a crude ladder, stifling down her ire at it’s imperfections, reminding herself that she did not have the time or luxury of a perfect one. She was halfway up when she heard the wall she had constructed blow. The turret she had placed whirled and began firing, but it soon was incinerated by a grenade.

Symmetra held on for dear life as the sound echoed around the chamber, the percussion blast pressing her against the column, she was clutching the ladder with her hands over her ears, praying the random bits of ceiling the blast dislodged did not fall on her. Once it was quieter, she hurried up quicker, ignoring the sounds of pursuit behind her. As soon as she was on top of the dais, she kicked it over, and actually found herself glad it’s design was inferior, as the force of the ladder hitting the floor shattered it.

She looked down into the startled face of the lean man. The larger one was no where to be seen, but given how small some of the tunnels had been, she figured he had opted to try and find an alternate route through. ‘Junker’ her mind supplied looking at his attire. He did indeed have a peg leg, and his arm was metal and bright orange. He was shirtless, wearing only a harness that had explosives strapped to it, and a pair of ragged shorts slung low on his hips. Even from her height, she could see he was tall. His hair was blonde. He was looking at her with a stunned expression on his face. Which happened to be filthy. It was apparent that he did not bother to take cover from his blasts, and he was streaked with soot as a result.

After staring at each other for what felt like hours, Symmetra tore her eyes away and turned to survey the throne.

“Oi!! Sheila! What’re you think you're doin? That there’s my score!”
She cast a look over her shoulder, “I was here first.” She reached out and plucked the scroll from the skeleton. She opened it and with her visor, scanned and saved it’s message, uploading it to her secure private server, not trusting the volatile man below her. She tucked it into her waist band, turning back around to survey her way of escape.

“Throw down the scroll or I blow the column out from under you’re feet!”

Symmetra raised a brow at him, “You are more foolish than I thought if you think that is a wise move. An explosion of that size would bring the entire chamber down around us.”

“Not if you know what you are doing lady.” He swiftly moved to the base of the dais and started setting minor bombs, quicker than Symmetra would have guessed was possible. Quickly she constructed a hard light bridge, and used it to get to the next column as she felt the minor explosion and the dais start to crumble under her feet.

When she was on the next one she glared at the man below, “That was uncalled for.”
“That was just a warning! Gimme my scroll and I’ll leave you alone!”

She spotted the far wall, there was an open enough area in front of it she could construct a teleporter pad to get back to her ship. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the chamber, and standing between it and her was the lean man. She looked him square in the eye, “It is not yours.”

She pulled out her photon projector and aimed it at him, “Don’t make me do this. Let me pass and I won’t fire.”
He tilted his head and gave her a considering look, “No dice Sheila. Me n Roadie was paid to get that scroll, so we ain’t leaving till we get it.”
Symmetra sighed, it looked like it was going to be the hard way. She quickly scanned her surroundings for options. She needed to hurry, she had no idea how long the larger man was going to be waylaid by the small tunnels. Her chances of 2 versus 1 in a fight weren’t stellar.

She holstered her weapon and took a copy of her orders from her waistband, rolling them into a close proximity of a scroll. She subtly generated a photon shield, feeling it settle against her skin. “This is what you want?” The lanky man had been heading toward the base of her column, presumably to set more bombs to try and shake her down. She pulled the schematics into her mind for slide, a plan forming.
“Then go and get it!”
She set it on fire and threw it as far as she could, praying it was burnt beyond reading by the time he got to it. She heard the man below her gasp and run towards it, taking her chances she formed a hard light slide as quickly as she could. She hit the ground running. From behind she heard his cry of outrage when he realized what she had done, and him start to give chase.

He was very quick, even with a peg leg. She could hear him gaining on her. She was almost there, the schematic in her mind, when an explosion off to the right shook the whole chamber. The ground shuddered and Symmetra staggered. The second man from before appeared through the dust, the echoes of the blast still reverberating around the chamber. For a minute all three stopped and started at each other as the echoes died away and there was a tense silence. Then, there was another rumble and more chunks of ceiling began to fall. Symmetra looked up, then took off again, darting between two columns spaced closely together. If she could form her teleporter fast enough, hopefully any debris would hit the columns and not her before she got out of here. She needed to escape, and fast.

She was forming it between her hands when she felt someone grab her roughly and spin her around, pining her to a column. It was the lanky junker. Up close she could see he was well muscled for how lean he was. His eyes were a curious amber and they burned into hers. He was much taller than she realized, looming almost a foot over her 5’7 frame. He smelled of soot and dirt. He gave her a charming smile and she saw gold winking from his mouth, “The scroll Sheila.”

She arched a brow, not about to be cowed by this strange man. “I already gave it to you.”
His smile turned amused, “We both know you didn’t. Now, hand it over before this place comes down on our heads.”
She glared defiantly into his face, “No.”
He took a deep breath as if for patience, then leaned down closer to her face. Symmetra suddenly became aware of how warm he was, and how cool she was in contrast. Underneath the soot smell was another entirely, and she was horrified to find it tantalizing.
“Give. Me. The. Scroll.”
She leaned forward, putting her face inches from his, “Not. On. Your. Life.”
He took another deep breath, as a loud sound could be heard above them. They both glanced up, to see a huge piece of ceiling hit the columns above them, and the whole thing start to crumble.

Without a thought, the lanky man grabbed her and dodged out of the way, rolling them a distance away and landing on top of her, using his body as a shield from some minor debris that was still falling.

It all happened so fast Symmetra was dazed, and it took a few breaths to come back to reality. When she did she realized where she was she become uncomfortably aware of his body again.
“You okay Sheila?” She nodded, surprised he had even bothered saving her, especially since he had been trying to blow her up earlier. But she didn’t have time to ponder it.
“Yes, thank you. Now get off of me.”
His grin turned predatory, “Not before you hand over the goods.”
Symmetra wiggled, trying to get her limbs into better positions to act. She discreetly drew her weapon with one arm, reaching up with her other to trace it along his chest, hoping to distract him, “What ever happened to finders keepers?” her voice was a soft purr.

She watched his adams apple bob up and down in a hard gulp, and face turned surprised. She was completely nonplussed this was working, but kept her face in the proximity of a smirk. Tracer had suggested it to her as a joke one night, but Symmetra never figured someone would actually fall for it. Let alone that she would be able to successfully pull of flirting. She ignored how her fingertips were tingling from touching his skin. She continued tracing circles on his chest, marveling when he shut his eyes and made a sound deep in his throat.

She felt her weapons slight vibration, indicating a photon blast was minimally charged. She wanted to incapacitate the junker, not seriously hurt him. He deserved that much for saving her life. He was still transfixed when she put the gun to his chest, “Now for next time remember, no means no.” He opened his eyes wide in surprise as she fired.

The Junker yelled and the force of the blast made him roll off her, she quickly jumped to her feet, to see the other Junker finally making his way through the rubble and dust to them. As fast as she could she formed her teleporter and threw it on the ground. She glanced back to see the lanky junker giving her a confused expression, a touch of hurt in his amber eyes. She bit her lip and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ before jumping through the teleporter, just as the larger man threw what appeared to be a hook at her.

Once on the other side, she swiftly shut down this side of the gate, and packed up, loading her ship quickly. She ignored the twinge of guilt for hurting the Junker, reminding herself that he had tried to hurt her first. But she kept seeing his eyes as they looked into hers, the depth of them. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and set off back to headquarters. She needed to study the scroll and plan her next course of action. But still she couldn’t get the Junker out of her head. She sighed, at least she had the scroll, she would never see him again. With time, this odd fascination would fade.

Chapter Text

Symmetra reached up with her mechanical hand and massaged the knots that had formed in her neck. Her metal fingers were stronger than her flesh ones and were much less forgiving, so they were wonderful for working out stubborn muscles. Her whole body ached. The drive home in her ship had been just long enough for her body to get stiff. She was a lot more banged up than she realized, and now that the adrenaline was no longer coursing through her veins she felt every bump and bruise. She had a lot of minor scrapes and scratches that she would need to tend to. Although they were nothing life threatening, she did not want to risk infection. But all that would have to wait. She had to get this intel into a secure place, if only to store it so that she could look at it later when she didn’t feel like she had a building dropped on top of her. Her lips quirked in a slight, dark smile, she reminded herself that a building had dropped on top of her. She determinedly did not think about what else had happened or who else the structure had fallen on, instead focusing on how she would treat each injury as a way to distract herself.

Once safely parked in her private hanger, she was so sore she didn’t even bother unpacking her gear, a true testament to how crummy she felt, otherwise she would never have left her things in such disarray. She coped by promising herself that she would come here first thing when she woke up and straighten things up and unpack. She made it halfway down the hallway before she turned back around with a weary sigh. She tried, she really tried, but no matter how tired she was, she would never get to sleep knowing she left a mess behind her. The compulsion to not leave a mess was too strong.

By the time she was done exhaustion was now sinking it’s hooks in so deep she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to both shower and go to bed. She didn’t realize exactly how bad of shape she was in until she had to move around so much. She trudged slowly through the hallways from her private hanger, wondering if she would even make it to the shower. But the memory of the creatures skittering across her boots, the dirt and debris flashed across her mind, and there was no way she was laying in bed with all that filth still on her body. Her uniform was torn, her tights shredded beyond repair. She would have to toss them. The thought of what she must look like made her shudder, and the ripple it sent through her body caused her muscles to ache anew. Just looking down, she could see the blue of her dress was smudged and dark in more places than she cared to count, the pristine blue now the minority amongst the dark stains.

She finally made it to her central room, the room she referred to as her headquarters. It was where she conducted all her research, stored all her data, did all her business. Half the room was also devoted to her work space, where she constructed and drew up plans for her hard light constructs. She swiftly entered the code into the keypad, thankful that at least her fingers didn’t hurt. Once the door swished shut behind her she let out a breath. This whole building was secure, but this room was her safe space. She felt centered here. Untouchable. It relaxed her in a way nothing else did. Everything had it’s own place, and was always in it’s place, she had absolute control within these walls.

She slowly crossed to her console, reaching into her belt to pull out the scroll. Her hand met nothing. She frowned and looked down, feeling around on her other side. Still nothing. Panic set in, putting some spring back into her step and adrenaline coursing through her system. Maybe it fell out while she was unloading and straightening up her ship. She retraced her steps, eyes sharp on the ground looking out for the elusive parchment. She meticulously turned the ship upside down, carefully looking under and around everything. She picked through her unloaded gear, panic rising. When she had looked in every conceivable place she sat down hard on her haunches on a bench.

She had lost the scroll.

She felt despair and frustration well up, pooling moisture into her eyes. After all that, after everything, she had lost the scroll. She couldn’t complete her contract. She didn’t know what the next step would be. Where the next location was. She had failed. She put her head in her hands and took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears before they really fell. She suddenly froze, her hands meeting her visor. She was so used to wearing it she had completely forgotten she had it on. Hope bloomed forcefully in her chest. She had quickly scanned the scroll and uploaded the image when she had first picked it up. It should still be in her hard drive.

That hope was enough to give her enough energy to push herself up from her sitting position and head back toward her central room. She managed a brisk pace. She would just check that she had a copy of the scroll, then she had to get clean and try for some rest. She had pushed her body past the point of her limits, and she knew it was only the adrenaline in her veins that was keeping her going.

When she got to her console and quickly scanned her recent uploads she almost collapsed with relief. It was there. She had a copy. She would be able to continue. She had not failed. As she headed toward the mission shower, she pondered how she could have been so careless. She was normally so cautious, she never misplaced anything. Was it possible the scroll and slipped out when the building was collapsing? Did it get caught on some stone maybe?

Her place was split, half of it was where she lived, and half of it had the clinical feel of a complex to it. Sometimes she had to contract extra work herself, and she didn’t like the idea of someone in her home. There were a few empty barrack type rooms in the complex side for just those instances. It even had a small kitchen for extended jobs or if leaving the base was risky. Most didn’t even realize she lived here as well, her side of it cleverly hidden in such a way most wouldn’t suspect, the rooms inaccessible to anyone but her. She headed toward the complex bathroom, it had more of a locker room feel to it and she didn’t want to drag whatever ancient germs were in that temple into her living area.

Once in the bathroom, she gently removed her boots, wincing slightly at the sharp relief of getting them off. She mourned the loss of her favorite leggings, and after pulling her dress off, it as well. Both were beyond salvation. She may have no longer been an agent of Vishkar, but the uniform, one she had worn for so long, was a comfort. It grounded her in a way. She hastily put both in the trash, feeling foolish for mourning pieces of cloth, then looked down at her arm. It needed cleaned and polished just as bad as the rest of her. She pulled out the spare case she kept hidden in this bathroom for these purposes, and methodically cleaned every nook and cranny. Her mechanical arm was her most prized possession and it’s value was immeasurable. She always cared for it above her actual body first. If something happened to it, she would have to contact her old employer, and the thought of the price they would ask for a replacement were enough to ensure she never wanted to have to reach out to them.

Once her arm was clean, she flipped the hidden catches, and it emitted a slight hissing noise as it released itself from her flesh. As always it started from her shoulder down, and when she removed it from her stump, she carefully put it in her case before rolling her shoulder. She was so used to wearing it, when she had it off her left side felt unnaturally light and she felt too vulnerable.

Symmetra made her way to the shower, turning the water as hot as she could stand then climbing in. She sighed in relief. The hot water immediately started relaxing her in a way nothing else did. She worked slow, partly due to low energy and partly due to the necessity of being thorough. She paid extra attention to her multiple abrasions. It chilled her to think how worst off she would have been had she not had her shields. She sat down, thankful once again that her shower had a seat in it. She leaned against the wall and started massaging her stump. Although her prosthetic didn’t hurt per say, the skin was always tender when she removed it, and often the muscles were bunched and sore from long use. She massaged all the knots out. Once done she just sat there, letting the water rinse everything away. She was so tired her mind blanked, her only thought for a long time was wondering how she was going to find the motivation to get out of the shower.

When the water started to turn cold, it ended up being surprisingly easy. She wrapped a towel around herself, grabbed her case with her arm, and set off for her living quarters. She pulled on the first pjs she could find, set her case lovingly by her bed, and collapsed on top of her bed, barely making it under the covers. For the first time that day she had a bit of luck as she felt sleep immediately pull her under.

~~~

For a long time she knew nothing. Blissful darkness held her in it’s thrall, and her body soaked up the much needed rest. But then, the dreams came, like they always did.

Falling debris. Flames everywhere. Heat blistering her skin. The ground was trembling under her feet. Screams in the night. Terror. A voice, ringing with fanatic authority, claiming it was for the greater good, in stark contrast to the hell surrounding her. There was no good in sight. A young face, half burned away. A ruined eye and a whole one, looking at her in betrayal and confusion. But then the dream changed. The fires died away, but there were still falling debris. The flicker of the flames had reminded her of something, and in her mind they morphed into smoldering amber eyes, looking challengingly into hers, and a firm hand around her waist, one around her shoulders, as she tumbled through the air with another body. The warmth enveloped her, cradling her before an abrupt stop. It was no longer blistering, but comforting.

Symmetra sat up with a gasp, the memory of the Junker’s flesh burning under the pads of her fingers that had brazenly traced along his chest, her waist felt as if branded with the ghost of his arm. She wrapped her right arm around her body, feeling her own midsection to chase away the ghost of his touch. The Junker. She stilled as realization hit: he had stolen the scroll. When he had thrown them out of the way of the falling ceiling, he had swiped the scroll from her belt.

Symmetra fell back with a wordless cry of frustration, angry at herself. She was so naive. Of course he had ulterior motives, he wouldn’t have saved her otherwise. She pushed her sweaty hair out of her face, pressing her fingers into her eyes. She knew from experience she would get no more sleep this night. Her mind was already whirling, ticking away through possible paths from here. Yes she had messed up, but this was salvageable. She could figure out where the next location was, and get there before the Junkers. She was smart. She had been Vishkar’s most prized architect before she had left. Top of her field. Their brightest pupil. Staying ahead of the Junker’s should be easy compared to staying ahead of her peers. All she had to do was get the next clue and get out of there before they even knew she knew the next location. And if she was ahead of them, they wouldn’t know where to go next, if there was a next destination.

She pulled herself out of bed, slipping her feet into some worn house slippers. She opened her case and carefully put her arm back on, feeling her nerves settle as it settled into place. She felt whole again. She shuffled to her workshop, intent on deciphering the clues on where to hunt next. She was determined to beat the Junkers to the next stop. Her livelihood depended on it. She was a professional argonaut, if she didn’t deliver on this job her solo career as a soldier of fortune would be over before it had really begun. With that thought in mind she put a little more spring into her step. She didn’t want to go crawling back to Vishkar, neither for her arm or for a job. Especially if it was due to her failure.

Going to another agency wasn’t high up on her list of ideal solutions either. Vishkar had barely let her go under her own designs, if they thought they lost her to a rival agency, she didn’t want to think about what they would do.

She finally made it back to her central room, and clicked on the lights and made her way to her large super computer. It hummed gently as it whirled to life and Symmetra settled into her chair. She braided her long hair out of the way as she patiently waited. This room was cooler than her bedroom, and it chased away the rest of the fire lingering under her skin from her dreams. The soft blue of the monitor drowned out amber eyes, and she was able to focus her mind to the present. She pulled up the copy of the scroll and started her translating algorithm. She leaned back and watched the machine work. She wasn’t sure how long it would take, so she went back contemplating her next mission.

Where would it be? She did a mental rundown of all the potential locations, all the different climates. If her suspicions were correct, this would be an extensive hunt. The jungle temple was likely the first stop, and the easiest. She just hoped it was not going to be somewhere cold. She detested the cold. She still wasn’t sure what the end goal was, what it was exactly she was looking for, but it had to be important if multiple people were hunting for it. With luck, no one besides her and the Junkers would be looking for it. But she didn’t believe in luck, she believed in being prepared. So she would prepare herself for running into others. She began composing a list of all the things she thought would be benifical, when the machine buzzed.

She looked up and quickly read the translation. She groaned. She would have to revise her list.

Chapter Text

Symmetra walked down the gangplank on her ship. She heard it close behind her, and glanced back, checking to make sure the camouflage on it was working and foolproof. She was not worried too much about someone detecting it’s heat signature, in this location she did not really have to. Plus it would soon cool down enough to blend with the surroundings, it was one of the reason she had purchased it. She turned back around and surveyed her surroundings, letting her discomfort curl her lip. She was worried the next location would have been someone where cold, but it was worse. This desert wasteland was scorching. The air was so hot and dry she could feel it sizzling in her lungs with each inhale. The wind did nothing to cool the heat, instead somehow making it seem hotter, like sitting in front of a furnace vent.

She reached up with her flesh hand and massaged her shoulder, where the rubberized cover for her mechanical arm clasped. She did not like wearing it, but in a desert she was loathe to leave her arm uncovered, not wanting the sand to get lodged in the joints of it. The glove part was easily removed should she need to construct anything from hard light. She glared at the sand, it was always so messy. She tried not to think about how extensive her shower was going to need to be after this mission was over, or else she might falter. It got everywhere and was almost impossible to get rid of completely once you removed yourself from it’s source.

She walked to the edge of the cliff a click away from her ship and looked down. This temple was nestled in the bluffs, and could only be reached by scaling down or climbing up the sheer face of the rock from below. She opted for down, preferring to let gravity do most of the work. Plus she was close enough that once she found her prize she could just construct a teleporter to get her back to her ship. No need to expend extra energy if she didn’t have to.

Her jaunt in the jungle temple had taught her well, her outfit had changed to reflect what she had learned. No longer were her missions in urban areas like they had been with Vishkar, they were in remote locations and she needed to be better attired to accommodate that. She needed something a bit more durable if she was going to be rolling around in ruins. Her boots were more of an explorer variety, the heels only slight, the ankle support flexible to allow for more movement. Due to the location, she had opted for some form fitting dark brown cargo pants and a beige tank top so she would blend in with the surroundings. She did not want to risk her tunic getting caught in something, figuring it was a miracle it didn’t happen last time. Not to mention the blue made her easy to spot. Out here she would be like a beacon in her regular outfit. She had various gadgets stashed in her belt, things she could not construct herself but thought she might need.

She dropped the rope she had been carrying, quickly checking that her harness was secure. When she was satisfied that it was fastened correctly she anchored the rope and attached it to her belaying device, took a deep breath, and eased herself over the cliffs edge, slowly starting her descent. She studiously made sure to not look down. It was harder than she thought, belaying down the rock face. She had to be careful not to push too far away from the rock, not wanting to tempt fate. She focused on each inch, finding it much easier to concentrate if she broke this process down into steps instead of looking at it as a whole.

After what felt like ages she made it to a ledge that was a suitable stopping point. She debated briefly whether she should take off her harness or not. She opted to leave it on for now. She still had some rope left and it might come in handy later.

She gingerly made her way across the ledges, finally reaching the temple itself. She breathed a sigh of relief to finally be on solid ground. It was too soon to relax and she was too close to the edge still, as the stone shifted beneath her and she stumbled forward as it crumbled away. She lay on the ground a few seconds, catching her breath and slowing her heart rate. She would need to be careful the entire time. Falling to her death was the last thing she wanted to do. It seemed this temple was in an even more precarious condition than the last. She hoped that the Junkers didn’t show up. With their volatile methods they were sure to send them all to their doom.

She climbed to her feet and brushed herself off, frowning at the sand clinging to her clothes. She faced the temple and braced herself, walking towards the door. The wood of it was half worn away by long years of harsh wind full of granules. The planks around the bottom had the worst of it, and she was able to slip inside without needing to attempt to pull them open. She looked around the temple in awe, it’s architecture was simple but beautiful. Whoever had constructed it had known what they were doing and made it to last. The solemn silence of the stone and the size of it all made her feel very small and irrelevant. It also made her itch to get back to designing her own buildings again. Making monuments that left a legacy and lasting impression on the world had a way of calming her, quelling the minor grievances that seemed to crop up in day to day life. It reminded her of her place in the universe and that ultimately she was just a small piece of a larger machine. It soothed her as nothing else had.

The pillars where a sturdy design of a beige stone, the tops and bottoms carved to tell a story. The ceiling was so high that she couldn’t make out any details on the top. She ventured closer to one, intent on looking at the bottom carvings. Unfortunately parts of them were worn away from the sand filled wind getting in through the cracks, so sections of them were illegible. Symmetra reminded herself she didn’t have time to study them, she needed to find the next piece of the puzzle and get out, before anyone else showed up. She made her way through the front room slowly, mindful of where she put each step. She was careful to construct her turrets in places where they were hard to spot, and the extra weight wouldn’t crumble the stone around them.

Once out of the first room the ceiling dropped lower, and Symmetra didn’t feel quite so small. She was still careful to pick her way across the floor, wary of traps. Her caution paid off when she noticed a stone was a slightly different texture in the middle, not quite as worn down as the others surrounding it. She looked carefully around, glancing up. Some wood pieces fixed with spears were rigged up above, and she guessed it would swing down and impale whoever stepped on the pressure plate. She mentally debated setting something around it, a hard light structure that would mark this stone so she didn’t accidentally step on it. But she shook her head at her folly, she would just teleport back to her ship anyway and this could slow up or stop anyone who followed her, especially if they weren’t as observant as she was.

Her progress slowed even more, one the lookout for any more such triggers. This temple was much bigger than the last one, the rooms needing more thorough checking before she moved on. She was beginning to despair, this place seemed too sparse, too picked over to yield any clues to the next location or even really what she was looking for. She was not even certain what she was looking for.

After yet another room with still nothing in it she slumped down against a wall, sitting down on a bench. She needed to center herself. She was getting discouraged, but she estimated she was barely halfway through the temple, she still had plenty of ground to cover. Her nerves were thrumming. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t have much time left, that she needed to hurry. But if she rushed she was likely to miss something. She had been setting her turrets and so far she hadn’t heard the distant whirl of them coming to life. She was getting ready to stand up when she heard it, or rather, felt it. A distant rumble that shook the foundations of the floor.

She immediately knew as if he had shouted in her ear that it was the Junker. Him and his silent partner were here. Somehow they had deciphered the scroll and gotten here almost as quickly as her. But from the sound of it, they weren’t as concerned as she was with how old and unstable this forgotten temple was.

She quickly got to her feet and resumed her search, with much more urgency. She ignored the way her stomach was fluttering, she was not eager to see that sticky-fingered, dirty, half naked thief again. She was just nervous about the possibility of him blowing the temple off the side of the mountain to send them all careening to their deaths. He had already pulled one temple down around their ears, did he really want to make it two? Was he so reckless? She mulled it over as she continued to investigate, she hadn't heard any more rumblings past the first one. Was this area known for having seismic activity? Was she at risk for a quake? Had she been mistaken that he was here at all? But her gut remained fluttery, and her instincts seemed certain that it was him.

She wished there were more scenery and artifacts around, but this temple was bare. Had it been picked clean or was it one of the variety that were austere in their furnishings to begin with? Normally she would approve of a minimalist surroundings, and had when she first entered. But now, with so many silent rooms behind her it was unnerving, and nothing like the temples she had grown up around. The land of her people, their holy places were resplendent. Rich colors, carvings, and mosaics adorned the walls. This austere temple was prickling her skin. What she had once admired was starting to unsettle her.

She continued on. Finally coming to a room that seemed promising. She stilled as she felt the foundations shake again, dust and sand motes jarred from the ceiling. She pulled her lips in, dark eyes darting around the chamber. She needed to hurry this up. The far back corner of the room was suspiciously clean, and when she got closer she felt a slight breeze.

Symmetra ventured closer, intrigued. This deep in the mountain she shouldn’t be seeing sunlight, let alone feeling a draft. When she was closer to the corner, her visor illuminated it, and she let out a breath of appreciation. As modern as she considered herself to be, the ancients were clever and inventive for coming up with hidden doors and tunnels.

Unless one came and investigated thoroughly, they would never know. It wasn’t even hidden with a mechanism, it was an optical illusion. The edges were overlapped in a way to not be obviously be an opening from afar. With a glance behind her, she slipped just inside them, then paused. Her turrets suddenly stopped at this room, it would be obvious that this is where she had gone. She back tracked, and set a few more further down the tunnel, setting two in a room that appeared to be nothing more than a closet.

She backtracked and got back to her discovery. She had set one turret outside the door, but it shouldn’t arouse any more suspicion than the others along the path. She didn’t want to place extra’s and give herself away either.

Just inside the illusion she placed another. Impossible to see unless you discovered the secret nook anyway. She resigned herself to that it would have to be enough. She continued on the hidden path at a quicker pace but still cautious; her near miss at the start of the temple still fresh in her mind.

The tunnel wound it’s way through the rock, at times she had to crouch down to make it past the low ceilings, sometimes she had to turn sidewise. She wasn’t sure the original purpose if it, but it was clear it had been designed to discourage all but the most determined. She stilled when she heard movement up a head. It sounded like someone was fighting someone else. She came to an opening where the path was a stone bridge, 10 feet across. Out of the safety of the walls she would be completely exposed. The bridge was up high in a big open chamber and it was from down below that all the ruckus was coming from. She peeked cautiously around the corner, to see if she could see who was fighting. She sucked in a breathe, it was the large man, the companion to the lanky one.

He loaded a massive gun and fired it at someone, who ducked behind cover. She did not get a good look at them and quickly ducked back behind her own cover to think. She needed to cross. She absolutely had to. She had come too far to give up now. She would do it when they were engaged and unlikely to see her. She hoped.

She didn’t know how many were down there, had just seen the two. But it stood to reason that if the large junker was here, the lanky one would be somewhere close by. She had gotten the impression that they tended to stick together. The room was quiet and she wondered if the fighting had ceased because one of them was dead. If both were behind cover this might be her time to go, maybe a better idea than during fighting.

She ripped off the glove covering her mechanical hand and hastily reapplied a shield. She wanted to be prepared for the worst. The chamber was still quiet and she needed to move fast if she was going to make it across without anyone in the room beyond noticing. She opted to crouch slowly making her way across, pulling the glove back on as she made her way to the other side. She was about midway over the bridge when she realized she had miscalculated, a rarity for her. The fighting had not resumed per say, but her presence was noticed. A red dot appeared on her chest and she was certain this was it when there was a yell behind her and a bang, then faster than she thought possible smoke surrounded her. She coughed, momentarily stunned.

Then someone collided with her and threw her forward, and she was annoyed to find that her body knew instantly who it was, even before she registered his maniacal giggling. She landed face down on the other side of the bridge, just behind the natural wall. She was safe from the shooter below but apprehension coiled in her belly. Her rescuer was still in the smoke, laughing and she heard the steady rhythm of his grenade launcher, briefly followed by explosions in the chamber below. She rolled over and scooted back a few paces, wanting to try and get to her feet before - and he appeared from the smoke.

He shook his head to clear his eyes and immediately found her on the ground, and he smirked. Symmetra scowled, which only made his expression broaden. “Well well sheila, fancy meeting you here”

Her scowl deepened and she stood up, dusting herself off, her tone disproving, “Yes, I can imagine you are surprised to see me, considering you stole the scroll from me at the last temple.”

He didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed, “And yet here you are, you seemed to have figured it out” His eyes raked her up and down, “And your dressed more appropriately, in proper gear.” Despite what he was saying his tone suggested he was disappointed.

“Yes, I am much more intelligent than you gave me credit for. So if you want to beat me to the next clue you will have to try much harder.” The Junker scratched his head, as if confused by the way the conversation was going, before laughing, “Sure shiela, that’s what I meant.”

Symmetra went on, raising her brow, inching away, while giving his shorts a pointed look, “And what do you know about dressing appropriately?” She slowly put her hands behind her back, so she could slip off her glove once more, wanting to throw up a wall between them an get away, find the next clue, and leave him literally in the dust.

But he was more observant than she gave him credit for, and in three quick strides he was right in front of her, reaching around to grab a hold of her arms, “Ah-ah, none of your fancy tricks.” He’s eyes turned appreciative, “You fooled me once, with placing them little guns o’yours in the rooms after the one. Took me a fair minute to figure it out, and follow you.”

Symmetra squirmed, uncomfortable with how close he was and appalled with how much she wanted to lean into him. Her reactions were all wrong. And he was dirty. Streaked with soot and she would swear his hair was smoking. Her body was at war with itself, liking his proximity and wanting to be as far away from the dirt as was possible. She settled for attempting to yank out of his grasp, “Get off of me you brute” but he was much stronger than her and she was making zero headway. His eyes seemed to smolder as he looked down at her, “Only if you promise to be good.”

Symmetra grit her teeth and actually considered head butting him, but was worried it would break her visor, and she couldn’t afford that. She needed it, had been using it to record everything since she entered the temple, knowing how invaluable it was last time to just have the quick scan of the scroll. She weighed her options, deciding that she wasn’t strong enough to overpower him and didn’t have the room to leverage him off of her, “I’ll be ‘good’ if you promise not to steal from me again”

His gold tooth glinted as he grinned, “Is it really stealing if it wasn’t yours in the first place? You’re making me out to be a common thief when we ain’t so different, you’n’me.”

She struggled harder, “I am nothing like you.” He raised a brow, “So you aren’t in this tomb to plunder a thousand year old treasure?”

She calculated and pushed forward, locking one foot around his peg leg. As she planned he stumbled back and his grip on her lessened, enough so she could slip out of his hold, “Do NOT compare us” and before he could regain his footing she raised a wall, dividing them. She took off running, aware that it wouldn’t hold him for long.

She had barely made it 20 feet when she heard a blast. She did not bother glancing back, knowing he was hot on her heels. He had the longer stride, but she had the advantage of being smaller. The path had restricted again, and even she had to duck to make it through parts of it.

She heard him snarl behind her and risked a peek. She was surprised to find how amusing it was, to watch him attempt to scuttle his 6’6 frame through the tiny space, and even more surprised when a giggle escaped her mouth. The sound traveled exceptionally well in the stone tunnel and he looked up from where he was trying to wedge himself between two rocks, maneuvering his grenade launcher just as carefully. Despite the situation he smiled at her, “Funny sheila? This is a fine way to repay someone who saved your pretty neck back there on that bridge.”

She gave him an arch look, “Consider it your way of apologizing for trying to kill me yourself at the last location”

She resumed forward, missing his frown, “That was different, I wasn’t trying to kill you…just ….slow you down a bit.”

“By blowing me up? In what universe is that not going to kill me?” Her incredulous voice echoed eerily back to him.

“Because I know what I’m doing! And I don’t kill unless I have to! And you fired on me first!” Symmetra was quiet as she considered it, not quite sure if she believed him. His outrage seemed sincere, but what kind of maniac thought blowing someone up was an okay thing to do? Sure she had shot him and placed turrets to slow whoever pursued her down, but that was out of self-preservation. And none of her turrets or even her gun were lethal.

Thinking of turrets, she paused to set one up, figuring in the tight space he couldn’t use a bomb to get rid of it. She heard him curse when it whirled to life, and she looked at him again, “And this is my retribution for taking what was rightfully mine.”

She continued on around the bend, and felt her lips twitch when she heard him curse again as she heard the turret fire. It was short-lived, as her victories seemed to be with him, and she heard another blast, this one much smaller than the others, but there was no mistaking what it was for anything else. Symmetra was close to cursing herself.

Finally she had come to the end. The tunnel abruptly opened into a decent sized square chamber, that was void of anything. No columns, no decorations, just flat sandstone. On the far side there was a chest against a wall, and she assumed what she needed was in that container.

She bit her lip, momentarily distracted, as her nerves buzzed. Something wasn’t right in this room and she needed to be prepared for a trap. It was too open, her instincts screaming that it was wrong. Logically it didn’t make any sense either. All this space was there for something. She made her way to the wall, then slowly worked her way around the edge of it, finally at a far wall when the Junker caught up with her. He was panting, clearly in a hurry, and no longer grinning when his eyes found hers. He scowled and she resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, surprised to find she even had the impulse. Normally she had no compulsions toward such childish behavior. She frowned instead, the Junker brought out the worst in her.

The man in question turned a shrewd gaze back on the room at large, before deciding to follow her lead. He edged around the perimeter as she had done, and Symmetra was dismayed to see that he was gaining on her. She had to go slowly, making sure the space in front of her was secure before placing her weight on it, but once the safety of the path was clear he was free to quickly close the distance between the two of them.

She increased her pace, determined not to let him catch her again. She was about halfway down the wall when she felt the barrier at her back move, shaking the floor beneath her feet. She cast a panicked look at the Junker, but he seemed to still be safe on solid ground, and abruptly the wall behind her was pushed to the side. She stumbled forward in surprise, and felt the floor start to give way as she careened away from the wall. She was unable to move, frozen in shock, watching the stones crumble away in slow motion and herself start to go down when she felt two massive hands clamp down on her shoulders, and as the stone fell completely away beneath her she looked down to see her feet swinging over a spike pit.

Symmetra gulped, she could guess who had her in his hands, and she honestly wasn’t certain if she had been better off being impaled to death on the spikes or in the custody of the two Junkers. The lanky one laughed, “Oi Roadie! Nice work!” He had made it over to where they were, glancing over the edge into the pit.

“Your lucky day Sheila, without Roadie you’d be a kabob.” Symmetra refrained from voicing her opinion that if neither of them were there she would have never fallen forward, not wanting to tempt the large man into letting her drop. As it was she was afraid to move, lest she wiggle out of his grip.

His hold on her shoulders was beginning to hurt, on the left one it was causing the metal of her arm to bite into her flesh. She kept her voice steady, “Yes, lucky. Can you put me down?” The larger man moved, swinging her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing, and set her next to him, but kept one massive hand on her shoulder. She frowned at it, before looking up at him, to be met with the blank stare of his mask. She clamped her lips together, guessing an appeal to let go of her completely would be wasting her breath. It seemed like for better or for worse she was stuck with them for the time being.

But when she surveyed the room, she allowed the logical part of her to take over, pushing the uncomfortableness of the situation out of her mind. “Well, what do you propose we do now? The floor is not safe, we obviously have to get to that chest…”

The lanky Junker giggled, the noise somehow sardonic, “It never occurred to you to use your fancy contraptions you make out of air?”
Symmetra’s mouth thinned into a line, before she scowled at him again, her tone sharp, “I was a little preoccupied when I entered this chamber. And I have to anchor them to something, they don’t just hang in space. If the foundations aren’t sturdy, the bridges won’t be sturdy, and it’ll all collapse together. With us on it.”

He shrugged, seemingly not concerned with her sharp tone and his flippant attitude made her want to kick him. For challenging her and for dismissing her explanation. The hand on her shoulder squeezed slightly, and she glanced up at the large Junker, and he gave a slight shake of his head. She smoothed her face back into a serene expression. She needed to keep her thoughts off her face. Normally she was so much better than this, but something about him rattled her and got under her skin. And it wasn’t wise to goad them when she was a pseudo-prisoner.

She examined the room further, and decided the best way to judge if it was stable enough would be to erect an anchor of sorts on the sturdy ground just inside the moving wall. She would try to set one just in front of the chest, guessing that would be the most secure. And since her solo act was temporarily a trio, she had a feeling that neither of the two would let her far out of their reach, so she would need to make sure the structure was sound enough to hold all three of them. A strange urgency was filling her and she wanted to get out of there as quick as she could.

She sensed the larger man still watching her, so she looked into his mask, then gave his hand a meaningful look. He tightened his grip in warning before letting her go and stepping back, confirming her suspicions. Symmetra pushed it from her mind, reaching for her glove. She frowned down at her hand when she realized it wasn’t there. Her arm appeared unscathed so she tried not to fret too much about the missing article. She took a breathe and worked to recenter and focus her mind.

It was quick work to place a solid support where they were, and she was so consumed with what she was doing she didn’t see the appreciative look the lanky Junker gave her graceful movements, as she wove her design and placed it. She tilted her head and ran some calculations in her head, letting the math settle over her turbulent thoughts like a balm. She was always able to lose herself in her work. Math never changed, it followed clear paths, and it was a communication of sorts that transcended all languages.

She mimicked the same movements, placing the next anchor squarely in front of the chest. She smiled slightly once it was perfectly placed, but furrowed her brow when arrows seemed to shoot out of the wall and pelt her anchor. She almost fell forward into the spear trap again when someone clapped a hand down on her shoulder. “Good job sheila! You disarmed another trap.”

She pursed her lips at his hand still on her shoulder, and the dirt smearing on her, and deadpanned, “And to think, that could have been you.” He laughed and removed his hand, “What’s next?”

She motioned them both to step back and they shuffled into the opening, and she followed. Taking a deep breathe she quickly went through the different structures in her mind, trying to find a simple one that would account for her suddenly larger party. She settled on a wide, sturdy design. When it was placed all three waited with bated breath, but no more unsavory surprised cropped up. Symmetra let out the breath she’d been holding. She felt someone prod her in the back, and she glanced at the two. The larger one jerked his head and made it clear, she was to go first.

She frowned as she turned back around, thinking about how she would need to ditch them at the earliest opportunity. She was not some expendable trap fodder.

They were halfway over the floor when a wall on the far side moved, and a tall woman with blue skin appeared. Symmetra reacted without thinking as the woman glared and drew her weapon, she threw up a wall. A millisecond later there was the unmistakeable sound of bullet hitting the other side.

“Oi Roadie, I thought you took care of her!” The lanky Junker crinkled his nose as he searched his pockets for something, presumably an explosive, swinging his launcher in front of him. The large man shrugged and drew his gun. Symmetra ground her teeth, this was supposed to be a quick, easy mission! Not caring the results or whether it was perfect or not, she looked to either side, calculating how big the room was, and threw up another barrier as another bullet pelted the first wall. She wasn’t certain how many more it would hold. She never thought to test the strength of her walls against repeated gunfire. But she would be damned if she allowed herself to be thrown into the middle of a gun battle type showdown in this crumbly, unsound cliff.

Even as a hurried calculation, the wall was almost perfect. It went from floor to ceiling, and touched the farthest walls. It looked thick.

Both men turned wide eyes on her. Well the lanky one’s eyes were wide. The masked one she couldn’t tell. She gave them a pointed look then proceeded to march past them toward the chest. She heard them hastily catch up with her.

“You’re a right one to have in a tight spot, you know that Shiela?” Symmetra didn’t make any comment, she had reached the chest and was studying it. She glanced toward the barrier as she heard someone let out a violent oath on the other side of it. She needed to get out of there, fast. Before things got worse. The larger Junker had retreated a ways, gun ready, but she had the feeling he was watching the pair of them warily.

She bit her lip, glancing at the floor under the chest. She was certain it was rigged in some way. There were too many other traps for this to not be one as well. She wondered what fresh hell could be in the chest.

The Junker had no such reserves, at least not the normal ones. He had pulled a smaller device out of his pocket, and was affixing it to the lid of the chest. He was muttering to himself, and she was startled to find out she understood part of it. He was murmuring calculations to himself, and something about shrapnel and trajectory. Abruptly he stood up, and backed away, pulling her behind him. He turned his back on the chest and hunched over her. Symmetra wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture, but felt like she needed to do something. He wasn’t using her as fodder, he was trying to shield her. As she thought of a shield she bit her lip.

Quickly, before she could talk herself out of it or rationalize it to herself, she wove one, he looked startled when she placed her hand against his stomach, his eyes bewildered as the blue settled over his skin and faded. She drew her hand back and nodded, indicating that it was time for him to push the detonator.

She squeezed her eyes shut, not sure what to expect this close to the blast. She tensed when she felt his arms encase her, but they were soon gone again after she felt the lid blow off. He looked down at the debris around them, patting his back, then shot her a grin when he realized he wasn’t hurt in the slightest. It made her stomach do funny things and she didn’t know how to process. Luckily there were more pressing matters at hand.

They turned toward the chest as the dust cleared, and he rushed forward. She heard more projectiles hit the other side of her wall, and saw the hard light start to splinter. They needed to hurry up. The lanky junker crowed, and pulled out the next scroll. Symmetra felt her stomach drop, she wasn’t a pickpocket and she wasn’t sly and now that they had the next clue in their possession there was no more need of her. She had failed.

Then the wall splintered even more and he turned toward her, as the big one nudged her in the back, having came back up to them after the lid was blown off. She looked at both of them, confused.

It was the one in front of her that spoke, “Well, hurry up Shiela! Make another of your things and get us out of here! That you used last time. To disappear.”

She cocked her head, “Us?”

He rolled his eyes, impatient with her, “You’re our ticket out of here, we can’t go back the way we came.” She raised her brow, sensing she may have a bargaining chip, “And why is that?”

He chewed his lip and gave her a slightly guilty smile, “Roadie and I rigged the place with explosives. To prevent someone from following once we got the goods.”
“And I take it I was one of these people?”
He gave her an exasperated look, “I took the scroll! You weren’t supposed to be here!”

She moved on, she would circle back to that later, “When is it going to go off?”
“When I push this button”

The splinters officially became cracks as the wall was pounded again, putting more urgency into the conversation.

“Hurry Shiela!”
“Promise me you won’t cut me out of the next step.”
“What?!” The cracks widened. The wall wouldn’t hold much longer.
“Promise you won’t ditch me. You’ll let me look at the scroll. So I know where the next temple is.”

He looked uncertain, and glanced to the larger man behind her for guidance. She attempted a nonchalant air, examining her nails as if her heart wasn’t beating wildly at the possibility of a firefight and their cover shattering. She needed to play this back into her advantage.

He threw up his hands in frustration, “Fine! We won’t cut you out. Now your contraption!”

She sprang into action, the teleporter was significantly more complex than a wall or bridge, and her movements were more like a dance. It materialized on the edge of the bridge, and without giving them a chance to leave her, she jumped through. On the other side she moved to the far side of her ship, and waited for her two new companions to follow.

Chapter Text

Symmetra did not have to wait long. Soon both Junkers tumbled through her transporter. She darted to the controls, firing up her ship and getting high. She knew she had a little time before their equilibrium returned. Transportation took some getting used to. The body rejected the abruptness of it, and the sudden change in atmosphere was unsettling.

In addition to getting out of the blast radius, she needed to get far enough away that the strange woman couldn’t follow. Not until she had time to close the gate on her end.
When she judged they were high enough she parked in the air, and approached the back of the ship. It felt like worms were trying to burrow out of her stomach. It had been a very long time since she had to work with other people, and even then none of them had tried to kill her before.

Well not in a literal sense anyway. Vishkar encouraged rivalry in it’s students. The program had been cutthroat, but they all knew if they ever resorted to actual violence the instructors punishment would be swift, brutal, and typically fatal. In her earliest years she recalled some much older students who played a “prank” that went awry. It resulted in a death, and the guilty parties were stripped of their ranks and expelled. The whispers brought up that they were lucky it was only an accident, that before them someone had murdered a rival in cold blood. The cadet had been executed, publicly. With the promise that anyone tempted to follow those footsteps would meet the same fate. No, the students were lucky to be granted to keep their lives.

Even the missions she had gone on for Vishkar were typically solo, with maybe a more senior staff member shadowing from afar, in case things got out of hand. But once judged as competent, they were sent into the field alone.

She was drawn back to the present by a deep groan. She shook her head at her folly, letting her mind wander while two unknowns were present. The massive one sat up first. He was still eerily silent, but he was holding his head under his mask. She inwardly smirked, glad something was getting to him. His stoicism, while normally she found refreshing in others, she did not care for in him. Perhaps it was the mask. While she would be the first to admit that often expressions were hard for her to read, the complete lack of any communication - facial, verbal, or even much body was making her uneasy.

The lanky one groaned again and sat up, rubbing his head as well, “Damn Shiela, warn a bloke next time. That was awful”
Symmetra bit her lip, annoyed he kept calling her Shiela, that was not her name, but she brushed it aside, it was better they were strangers. Her tone held an edge, “There was not time to properly warn you. I was not aware we were to be cohorts until the very last minute.”

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, but grinned nonetheless, “Had to wait for the right moment, where you’d be open to the idea.”

“You mean when you had leverage” she stepped around him and shut off the transporter, ignoring how the worms in her belly grew more intense when she got closer to him.

He moved his hands and opened his eyes, that smug grin still in place, “Always a plan me. After you slipped out at the first temple, got me thinking. Right useful, that trick. Quick exit and…” he paused, patting his pockets for something, when he found his detonator he giggled, “And a good way to cleanly take out the competition.”

She pressed her lips together, unwilling to concede that he had a points. She felt no remorse for the woman far below, she would have killed her given the chance. And indeed had made a valiant effort before the man in front of her inexplicably stepped in.

She thought back to his earlier words, maybe not so unexplainable. He said he needed her for a quick getaway and her gut clenched, did this mean they meant to ride with her until the next temple? They weren’t just going to let her scan the scroll and then part ways? Her pulse sped up, and she told herself it was just anxiety of being around other people, especially one so volatile and unlike any she had ever met before.

The blast from the temple rocked the ship gently, they were far enough away that she felt certain they weren’t in danger of debris - her ship was heavily shielded anyway - but he must have really packed in the explosives because the percussion blast still found them.

His grin turned satisfied and her guts twisted again. She needed to get the information and get rid of them.

“Well I’ve fulfilled my end. Let me scan the scroll, then I can drop you off near your ship, and we can both be on our ways.”

For the first time he frowned, “Nuh uh Shiela, how do we know once you have the information you won’t just kick us off the ship and be done with us?”

She almost rolled her eyes, “because I am honorable?”

He snorted, “Honor has nothing to do with it. It’s survival.”

The big one stood up, towering over her in the small space. She resisted the urge to shrink back, this was her vessel, she would not be cowed on her own ship.

“If I don’t get it now, how do I know you won’t just jump ship when we get in range and double-cross me?”

His tone implied he was explaining something to a child, “If we were going to do anything, it’d be much simpler to throw you off now and steal your ship.” His eyes were appreciative as he locked around the hull, clearly impressed. She guessed he was repeating something the large one had suggested as his glance darted to the masked man before resuming it’s examination of her ship.

Fear coiled in her chest, “The worst plan yet. This ship is keyed to me, and programmed with a fail safe sequence. Just in case it ever gets stolen. I activated the protocol, if I don’t input the specific code every 30 minutes the ship is programmed to shut off. Which means a sharp nose dive straight into the ground for whoever is attempting a speedy getaway in it.”

He raised a brow, looking impressed in spite of himself. The large man’s shoulders tensed, it was clear he didn’t like this new development. The smaller one seemed unconcerned, and actually a little pleased with himself.

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other for the time being then.”

She shook her head, opening her mouth to argue when the ship rocked more violently and an alarm went off. Symmetra ran to the bridge, sliding into the pilot’s seat as a cool robotic voice said, “Danger. We are currently being targeted by an unknown vessel.”

She heard a snort and a voice beside her say “No shit.” She bit her lip and turned back, flipping switches, preparing to move when the ship rocked again, blue flashing across the window as the shield took the rapid fire hits.

“We need to get out of here now Shiela!”

Symmetra ground her teeth together, he was only telling her things she already knew, and it was not constructive to the situation. She slammed the controls forward once the system came online. The sudden acceleration making him stagger back and pressing her against her seat. He pulled himself forward into the co-pilot chair, strapping himself in. She frowned but didn’t spare much thought, she had other things to worry about.

Who was shooting them? Did the blue woman make it? How? Perhaps she had a co-worker, partner, or even worse. What if there was yet another agency after the prize? She was beginning to regret ever taking this contract. Nothing had gone according to plan since the first temple. She lightweight blamed the Junkers. Nothing was going wrong until they - specifically the lanky one - blasted his way into her life.

The alarm sounded again and she yelled, “Hang on!” as she turned hard, making the ship dip sharply to the right. The Junker made a strangled sound and she risked a quick glance at him mid-barrel roll. She took in his complexion, the sudden shifts in gravity combined with the recent teleportation were making him ill. Her voice was stern, “No one gets sick in my ship.” He nodded weakly, one hand tightly gripping his mouth, the other clutching the harness around his chest so hard his knuckles were white. She pulled out of the roll and yanked back, causing the ship to rocket upward.

She shot into a cloud, hoping it would momentarily provide some coverage. She took a quick stock of the ship. It seemed the shields had held and were slowly recharging. She would need to do some fancy flying to get out of this. Which means it would need all her focus, which meant she could not both drive and man the ships offensive weapons. She was fairly certain their odds were good, her shields were her own design and more advanced than anything else on the market. Her guns should be sufficient to take down the enemy vessel.

She shot another quick look at the Junker, but she doubted he was in any shape to shoot back. She swiftly hit a few buttons, unbuckling herself. She rushed to the back of the ship as a panel opened, revealing a gun turret.

She eyed the larger Junker, without seeing his face it was hard to tell if he was faring better than his friend. But she was out of options. She couldn’t shoot and fly at the same time.

“You there, uhh Mr. Roadie?” Sh thought she had heard the lanky one call him something along those lines. In any rate he turned his masked face toward her, “I need your to man the gun while I drive. Your friend is too….disorientated from teleportation to do it.”

The ship rocked again, the enemy had found them. She hoped the shields were regenerated enough, but she yelled, “Take them!” gesturing sharply toward the gun as she turned and darted back to the controls.

With practiced ease she slipped into her seat, fastening her harness back across her chest. She jerked the controls, dipping the ship to the side, eliciting another groan from the lanky junker beside her. She didn’t have any attention to spare before she whipped the ship around. She held her breath and after a moment the rear cannon fired. She let out the air trapped in her lungs slowly in relief, and focused her attention on getting them out of there.

She shot out of the cloud, directly toward the enemy ship. It barrel rolled to avoid her, probably realizing it’s shields were no match for her own. It quickly righted itself and resumed pursuit of her vessel.

She weaved as well as she could and prayed the large junker had good aim. The enemy vessel certainly did, she watched from the corner of her eye as the shield strength steadily dropped. They needed to lose the pursuer fast. Deciding for a Hail Mary she flicked a switch, priming the heavy cannon. There would only be one shot at this, she didn’t carry heavy ammo for a reason. It took up space and weighed the ship down.

She turned sharply again but didn’t trust her ability to steer and aim. She ground her teeth together. She never accounted for violent rivals when she purchased and modified her ship! Solo vessels were hard to come by, but she thought all her early missions would be quick in-and-outs, maybe needing to bring on a teammate later on down the road if she needed. She glanced sideways at the lanky one, he would have to power through. There wasn’t enough space in the small front of the vessel for the larger one.

“Hey, hey you! Junker!” She stretched and hit his shoulder, causing him to look up. She nodded to the controls in front of him, “I need you to focus. You have to aim and take out the enemy.”

She tried to convey with her expression how dire this was, and he must have picked it up because his own expression firmed. She went on, “You will only get one chance, make it count.”

The ship rocked again and another alarm sounded, it’s piercing tones grating. Shields were down.

Urgency made her voice raise a few octaves, “Hurry!”

She tried to steady the ship to give him the best chance. Time slowed as he aimed. Even as his face was still tinged green, he fired as the other ship did. Symmetra twisted, jolting hers sideways, but the other’s aim was true. The projectile grazed the ship and warning lights began flashing in addition to the sirens.

But so was the lanky Junkers. The other ship exploded in a cloud, and she was barely able to make hers limp out of the way.

She could breathe easier now that they were no longer in immediate danger. But now she had a new problem. Checking her systems, there was not enough juice in her ship to both drop off the Junkers wherever they needed to be and get back to her base. Her choices were kick them out here, in the middle of no where, or take them back to her island. Her conscious wouldn’t allow her to just boot them. Not after everything they had been through. Despite earlier…complications they had saved her life in turn. She couldn’t just leave them for dead. Back to the base it was, and she set the course.

Her ship felt like it was moving at a snail’s pace, but logically she knew it wouldn’t be that long until they reached their destination. She was able to divert the remaining power to the engines, trusting no one else would fire on them. The ship was stable, for now. She would need to examine it carefully when she was back to base. She was positive heavy repairs were in order.

Once quick stock of her ship was taken, she was suddenly very aware that she was alone in the cock pit with him. She set the ship to autopilot and leaned back, too relieved to let the panic fully set in. She slipped her fingers under her visor and pressed on her eyelids. Once again her day had been more overwhelming than she had bargained for. She felt the beginnings of exhaustion pulling on her muscles. She looked over to see his color was returning to normal, now that the ship was holding steady and not careening around the clouds. At least his color was no longer green. He still had that unstable look about him, but was peering around with interest once more.

He noticed her staring and gave her a shaky grin, “Nice ship Shiela, where we headed?”

Symmetra groaned, already regretting her decision. But she needed to set one thing straight, “Symmetra.”

His eyebrows came down, “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It’s not a place, it’s a name. My name. Stop calling me Shiela, whoever that is.”

He cocked his head, “What kind of name is Symmetra?”

She pressed on her eyes again, “A code one.”

“Oh. Not right sure you look like a Symmetra. Think I preferred Shiela.” She didn’t see his face, but she couldn’t decipher his tone, but it almost sounded thoughtful? Disappointed? She pushed on, “It is what I would prefer you called me. Now, what should I call you? I imagine ‘Junker’ will get confusing, and old.”

“Name’s Junkrat, me mate’s name is Roadhog.”

Symmetra nodded, clearly they had given her code names as well. Though Junket was apt for him.

“To answer your question, we are headed to my base.” She frowned at the wide grin spreading across his face. “Do not read more into this. The ship is damaged and in need of repairs. I doubt it would make it both to a drop-off point for you two and then back to where I need to be. It is more logical this way.”

He settled back into his chair, “Sure it is Shie…Symmetra.” He pulled a face as he stumbled over her name, still unsure about it, “I think you weren’t ready to be ride of me just yet. I think I’m growing on you.”

She gave him a flat look, “Like a mold.”

He laughed, and she felt her lips twitch upward. She faced forward again so he wouldn’t see and become encouraged. But with her shifting she didn’t notice the way his eyes studied her lips, before roving upward to take in her whole face, as satisfied gleam flashed briefly over his features.

Silence wasn’t his strong suit, because he plowed on, “Where’s this base o’yours located?”

Her brow furrowed, “Why do you want to know?”

He attempted a nonchalant look, “Maybe we’re neighbors. After this is all over, maybe I’ll pop by to say hi. Be all neighborly.”

“Unlikely. I chose my base for it’s remoteness. And why would you want to see me again once this is all over? We are clearly rivals. It does not make sense.”

He scratched absently at his flesh arm with his mechanical one, before frowning down at it, “We ain’t rivals anymore, now we’re teammates.”

She pursed her lips, “Briefly, maybe. But that is no guarantee you won’t eventually try and give me the same treatment as the woman from down below.” She paused, then with emphasis added, “Again.”

He sighed, “And I told you, I wasn’t serious then. If me and Roadie wanted you dead, we would have let you die.”

“But you said you needed me. In the first temple, before you realized I would be an asset, you did your best to make sure I wouldn’t show up again.”

He let out a frustrated noise, waving his hand in an annoyed fashion, “I dunno what I can say to convince you otherwise. But now we’re on the same side.” He gave her a shrewd look, “or is this your way of getting out of telling me where your base is? If we’re going there, it won’t be a secret for long.”

Symmetra pressed her lips together, he had a point. It would be futile to hide the location of her base. But that did not mean she needed to tell him the exact coordinates of it. “An isle on the Mediterranean Sea.”

His brows rose in intrigue, “How’d you manage that?”

Symmetra gave him a noncommittal shrug, not wanting to get into the hows or whys of her location. Nor any connections she may or may not have.

Junkrat gave her a half grin, “Alrite Shiel….” at her sour face he changed what he was going to say, “So what’s a plan when we get to your base?”

Symmetra’s face turned pensive, and she angled toward Junkrat once more, “I truthfully had not given it much thought. There has not been adequate time, with our sudden partnership, abrupt exit, and then immediate attack.” She paused to chew on her lip, eyes going distant while she went over what needed to be done, and the different elements in play, “First order of business would be to let me have a look at the scroll so I can decipher the next clue. Then the ship will need to be looked over and repaired.”

She focused back on him, “After the ship is repaired it’s a question of whether or not we travel with each other to the next temple or if I leave you two in a location of your choosing and proceed by myself.”

He stretched and gave her a dismissive wave, “No need to split up. We’re squamates now. ‘Sides, we’ll just keep bumping into each other at each temple. You can’t shake me’n’roadie. Be easier this way.”

She arched a brow at him, “And what happens when we finally get the artifact? Who gets the prize?”

He shrugged and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes, “That’s a problem for future us. We’ll figure it out then.”

Symmetra ground her teeth, his complete lack of concern was grating. It wouldn’t be so easy! Better to split now so further camaraderie didn’t have a chance to grow. It would be cleaner in the end that way. But she held her tongue, knowing by now it would fall on deaf ears.

He finally seemed content to sit in silence and Symmetra returned to her thoughts about her predicament. How would all this get end? Surely not well. She snuck a peek over at him. He appeared to be napping. How could he be so flippant about all this? Did nothing get to him? His shorts and harness were even grimier than normal, which wasn’t surprising given the desert location, and how many explosives he’d used in her presence alone during the day. Gods only knew how many he used when he wasn’t around her. At least his hair was no longer smoking.

She didn’t even want to know what she looked like, she was sure it wasn’t much better. She tried to crane her neck to get a better look at his mechanical arm. It seemed of a much cruder design than her own and the craftsperson in her itched to look it over and make improvements. And his peg leg, why wouldn’t he opt for a prosthetic foot instead? Why just a peg? She wondered how he lost both limbs. She rubbed her own mechanical hand unconsciously, forcing her thoughts back on the Junker and away from the memory edging around the corners of her mind of her own limb loss. She noticed again how well muscled he was for his frame.

“I can feel you staring”, he cracked open an eye and gave her a sly grin. Symmetra felt her cheeks heat and she jerked back around, embarrassed to be caught. Even more embarrassed at where her thoughts were heading when she was caught and mortified at the prospect that he could see them on her face.

He sat up and made a big show of stretching, “So, like what you see?”

If possible she felt her cheeks heat even more and checked the ships systems as a distraction. Her tongue suddenly felt heavy in her mouth and she had no idea what to say, but she needed to get something out.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about”

His grin broadened, turning into something smug and knowing, “I’m sure you don’t.”

Luckily the ship beeped, and the robotic voice broke the suddenly tense silence, “Now approaching your destination.” They were closing in on her isle. She flipped off the autopilot and entered in the sequence to open her hanger.

She could hear the laughter in his voice, “Saved by the bell Shiela” and she ignored him, angling her ship down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn forward again, looking around intently and she could practically see him making mental notes about her isle, trying to figure out it’s location in relation to the territories around it.

He was mercifully silent as she eased the ship into dock, allowing her to concentrate. She still was not the best at precision diving and she needed her full attention to make landing as smooth as possible. Also she did not think her pride could handle it if she did something embarrassing like scrape the side of her ship on the door.

Once safely grounded she flipped everything off, and maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she felt the vessel sigh in relief. She unbuckled her harness and stood up, glancing at her companion before jerking her head in a ‘follow me’ motion. He scrambled to unbuckle his own harness and eagerly followed her, so close behind her she could feel the heat radiating off of him. It amped up her anxiety, causing her pulse to race.

Roadhog stood up when they got to the back of the ship, his gun and Junkrat’s grenade launcher in each hand. Symmetra felt her lips tighten but didn’t comment as she opened the hangar door on her ship. The unlikely trio descended down the ramp.

She gestured weakly around, “Welcome to my base. You can set your guns down over there, “she pointed to a wall that had various other weapons hanging and scattered next to it, “and follow me. I’ll show you to your quarters” she gave Junkrat a pointed look, as he was the filthiest of the three, “And to where the bathroom facilities are. Once we are cleaned up, we can discuss the scroll and our next steps.”

The two Junkers shared a long look, and Symmetra felt her temper flair, the long day and multiple near death experiences getting to her, “Look we are all disgustingly dirty and I’m not letting any of us into my workspace until we’ve had a proper wash.”

Roadhog turned toward her and nodded, before facing Junkrat and seemingly giving him a long look. The smaller man was the first to look away, grumbling “Fine” and crossing his arms.

She started toward the door again, angling her body so they couldn’t see the number sequence she entered to open the lock, and they followed her inside.

Chapter Text

Symmetra breathed in relief, glad that she had some semblance of control of the situation. She was also gratified to see Roadhog had set the weapons down in the space she had indicated. She made a note to put hers away after she had seen to them, to show a sign of goodwill. Her photon projector needed a good cleaning, it was as dirty as the rest of her. Before leaving the garage, she removed her boots, not wanting to track sand all over her base. She also brushed off as much of it as she could, and was gratified to see Roadhog mimic her, and after a slap on the shoulder, Junkrat as well.

Rather than give them a tour, she turned and headed toward the guest quarters, which were down the hall from the washroom. She bit her lip, steps almost halting as something occurred to her, what would the Junkers wear after their showers? Getting clean was only part of the battle, it would do no good to have them wash just to put back on their dirty clothes. She couldn’t leave them with only towels while their clothes were washed.

She mentally calculated Junkrats waist, he could probably get away with wearing a pair of her pants, even if they would be a bit short. She chewed her cheek, wondering what to do about Roadhog. Nothing she owned would come close to his size. She has purchased this isle from Winston, who used to use it as a base of operations for some organization he used to work with. He was close to Roadhog’s size, maybe he had left behind a pair of pants? Neither of them seemed inclined to wear shirts and she doubted she could convince them to wear them now.

They arrived at the rooms, “Here we are. There are a few rooms to choose from. These two are singles, the two further down the hall are doubles, if you prefer.” She furrowed her brow, suddenly aware she had no idea of their relationship and what it was.

Junkrat opened one door, peering in, “This one’ll do me.” Roadhog opened the door next to it, before turning and nodding to her. Junkrat straightened up again, “Alright, where’s the shower, I want to get this over with.” He had the look of a man accepting his fate by going to the gallows. Symmetra felt her lips curve up in a small smile, strangely amused.

She gestured that they follow her while trudging down the hall. The long day was definitely catching up with her, and she was looking forward to showering, changing, and in the dim future the possibility of rest.

“Here is the washroom. There are multiple shower stalls available, so you both can use the facilities at the same time. There are also extra enmities in the cabinet such as: toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, washcloths, towels, et cetera. I will find some suitable clothes for you both to change into.”

Symmetra chewed her cheek, shy about the next point, unsure how she should proceed. She decided need was greater than her discomfort adding, “The stall on the end has a seat in it. In case you need to remove your artificial limbs before washing.”

Junkrat’s brows rose, but Symmetra retreated too quickly to hear if he made any comment. She knew how uncomfortable she was talking about and drawing attention to her own mechanical arm, and did not want to put him in a similar situation if he was the same.

She ducked down the hall, in as brisk a pace as she could manage. The sooner she got them squared away the sooner she could see to herself. She made her way to the spare closet, the one she never used. She had her own space to accommodate her things, and she was so busy on her construction of her own living arrangements she had not had the time to go through what was left behind.

The spare closet was really for the guest rooms, like for spare linens, but as she had found out, Winston had a habit of absentmindedly squirreling away random items in random places. She had only peeked in once, just to check out the space. It was lucky she had not done much more as now she needed whatever was in there, and that she had had no reason to clean it out. If memory served there was a bulky clothing item tucked away.

Her memory was correct, there was a pair of sturdy cloth pants in the back. Winston frequently used this place for missions back in the Overwatch Days, and even then it was more of a rest stop rather than a base. Her live-in quarters were a recent addition, she had designed and built them with her hard light herself, furnishing the place as she saw fit.

She grabbed the pants and backtracked to the washroom. She quietly slipped inside and deposited the pants on the bench in the shower area. Both Junkers were already in the showers. Junkrat was yammering on about something, his voice echoing shrilly off the tiles. He was talking too fast and between the echo, his slang, and his accent she couldn’t make out a word of what he was saying, so she didn’t bother trying. She also did not want to get caught appearing to skulking in the bathroom while they showered.

Symmetra quickly retreated, padding to her hidden door before slipping inside. She made her way to her dresser, carefully looking through her garments trying to find the largest pair of sweat pants she had. She had two pairs she thought would work, and paused trying to guess which ones would be more suitable, mentally calculating his height and the dimensions of the pants. She must have been tired, because after a few moments she realized it did not matter one way or the other and finally grabbed the grey ones.

She tucked them under her arm and headed back. Maybe she would ask the Junkers if they could look at the scroll in the morning. The longer she was home the more drained she felt. Surely they were in the same boat.

When she got to her hidden door, she paused to pull up her surveillance footage on her visor, making sure the coast was clear. Not seeing either man she slipped out. She quietly made her way down the hall, and stopped in front of the bathroom, suddenly nervous to go in.

She took a deep breath and opened the door. Only one shower was going. The pants she had brought earlier were gone, and in the laundry bin were a pair of massive shorts neatly folded. As she was looking at them the other shower shut off, and she saw the towel disappear over the side of the stall. She felt frozen in place as the curtain rattled open and he hopped out to where his leg and arm were resting on the bench, next to his own pair of crumbled shorts and the almost empty grenade belt. He settled on the bench and with the swiftness and ease of long practice reattached his arm and bent to do the same to his leg.

Symmetra was momentarily stymied by it. Her own arm sunk into her flesh and was keyed to her body specifically. It responded to both her motions and her thoughts, much like her real one would have. His appeared crude and rudimentary, and she could not figure out how it moved so well.

He finally looked up and around, noticing her for the first time. She felt heat rise in her cheeks, caught staring again. That smug smirk crept back over his features and the childish part of her wished she had grabbed the shortest, most ridiculous pants she had. But she had a feeling he would have been unfazed by even that, happily wearing whatever pair she gave him.

“Well well Shiela, Do you always hang out in the bathroom while your guests are shower? Did you hope to get more than a peek?”

She swallowed, attempting composure, “Hardly, I was just bringing you a replacement garment until your own can be laundered.” She felt her lips purse as she realized something, “Although this is not an ideal situation. This is not a long term solution. You and Mr. Hog will need clothes.” She gave him a sly eye, “Unless you want me to just scan the scroll and drop you off at a specific location, somewhere where your own gear is, so we can part ways.”

He shook his head, wet hair flapping against his cheeks, “Nice try Shiela. You won’t be rid of us so easy. ‘Sides, Roadie’n’me was talkin’. He’ll fix your ship right up - Roadies good with all things that you can drive, mechanical like - and you can take us on a run to get supplies.” He frowned down at his harness, “And I need to get my stuff to make some more grenades. Don’t want to be unprepared for the next temple.”

Symmetra sighed, she had a feeling that would be his response. For whatever reason the Junker was set on sticking with her. It did not make any sense. Clearly they were competent on their own, showing up at the last location at roughly the same time that she arrived there. They did not need her, not really.

Looking at him, she doubted the Junker would give her a straight answer if she asked outright why he was so intent to keep around her. In fact, she was positive he would not.

She came back to the present with Junkrat suddenly right in front of her, stooping down a little to peer into her eyes. “Hello, Symmetra? You alright? I lost you there for a minute.”

She shook her head, cheeks heating again. “Yes, fine. Here are the pants until we can get yours cleaned. They will have to do until the ship is repaired enough for a longer journey.”

He took the pants and shook them out, holding them up with a look of disbelief, “You don’t really expect me to wear these little things do you??”

She swallowed down a laugh as he put them up to his hips. It was clear they were not as big as she thought. His legs were quite a bit longer than hers. But she kept a straight face, “Of course. They should fit fine around your waist. Pretend they are shorts.”

He looked around, “No shirt?”
She raised a brow, “Would you have worn one had I brought it?”

He gave her a delighted grin, “See Shiela, we’re already gettin to know each other so well.”

Up this close to him she noticed he had taken the time to wash his arm and leg like she had suggested. She tried to look closer at his arm, curiosity getting the better of her. He noticed, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

She jerked back, flesh hand automatically coming up to rub protectively at her mechanical arm.

“No, I do not think that prudent.”

He tilted his head, giving her a considering look, “No worries Shiela, if that’s how ya feel.” He abruptly changed the subject, getting that sly look on his face again, “So are you going to shower now? Or just staying in here to supervise that I change correctly?”

Symmetra gave him a flat look, masking her embarrassment again. What was it about him that made her so off-kilter? Would she ever be able to be in his presence without getting embarrassed? Or was it something she would just have to get used to? His conversation shifted so randomly and quickly, she had trouble keeping up. It did not help that she was used to academic speak, technical jargon in a logical pattern. He seemed to say whatever he was thinking next, often in regional slang, and she had trouble following.

She backed up a few paces, “No…no th…thank you I’ll be on my way.” Even more mortifying she was stammering.

His grin grew and he wiggled his eyebrows, “You sure Shiela?”

She reached behind her to turn the handle on the door, attempting to regain control, “Quite sure, I’ll leave you to it.”

She turned quickly to go when it happened, all at once.

The tiles were slick from where Roadhog had gone back to his room before fully drying off. Her bare soles had grown slick from the water and her feet slipped out from under her. She was rushing toward the floor when the harness she was still wearing, the one she had decided to keep on so long ago, one of the loops got stuck on the door handle, stopping her descent abruptly as she dangled from the knob. It all happened so fast she only had the chance to squeak.

There was a brief pause before Junkrat’s laughter echoed off the walls as he bent in two, “Oh….my….god Shiela!!!” he got out between bouts of laughter, “Are….are…are….you….are you okay?”

Symmetra tried to get her feet back under her, but the floor and her soles were still too slick, her feet unable to find purchase. She almost had it when her feet flew from under her again, causing the handle to rattle as her weight slammed back down on it.

Junkrat was beside himself with mirth, he was unable to catch his breath. His laughs were now mostly soundless as he clutched his gut, “Sh….Shi….Shiela….Stop…I’m….gonna….suffocate….at …..this rate….can’t……..breathe……”

It was hard to be haughty when your cheeks were on fire and you were hanging from a bathroom door, but Symmetra gave it her best effort. It seemed more practical than attempting to melt through the floor, which is what she wanted to do. Was it possible to die from embarrassment? She felt she would eventually know the answer. Sooner rather than later at this rate.

She crossed her arms, her tone icy, “Well are you going to help me or just stand there all night laughing.”

He went from clutching his stomach to hands on his thighs, “I dunno Shiela, you’re…gonna have to…stop making me…laugh if you want help.”

She glared and wiggled a little in the harness, trying to budge it. Her weight was too heavy and unevenly distributed to unfasten it. She didn’t want to risk trying to stand again and send him into another fit. Nothing worked. He finally got his laughter down to sniggers and secured the towel more snugly around his waist.

Every time he looked at her he broke into giggles again. But the storm cloud growing on her as he finally made his way to her helped in getting the giggles under control by the time he reached her. Rather than just grab her by the shoulders, he scooped her up in his arms, careful to maneuver around the handle to get her harness loop off of it. Once he stood up completely he gently set her on her feet, hands lingering on her shoulders to make sure she was steady on her legs. Symmetra’s breath was coming too fast at how close he was and his hands burned like fire on her shoulders. She straightened her shirt for something to do, a distraction from his presence. After a long moment, “Thank you, your assistance is appreciated.”

She glanced up at him and he was giving her that grin again. The one that made her insides turn flips.

She bit her cheek, “I’ll let you finish getting ready while I see to myself now.”

He frowned, “Don’t you use this room too? Or is there another squirreled away somewhere around here?”

She shrugged in a noncommittal way, “Don’t trouble yourself about it. I will come and fetch you and Mr. Hog when I am ready to go to the research room.”

She attempted a stern look, for all the effect it would have on him. She turned and walked away, missing him shaking his head at her as she went.

Symmetra ducked down another hall, glad she had not put her hidden entrance where no one would easily see her enter her private chambers. Once the door slid shut behind her and she heard the soft click she relaxed a fraction.

She was alone. She was secure. She was in her sanctuary.

She first removed all items of clothing, starting with the wretched harness, giving it a dirty look as she dropped it into a laundry bag she kept near her door. She padded softly to her own private bathroom, debating a bath or shower. A bath would feel better on her aching body but she did not have the time for a proper soak. Shower it would have to be.

She reminded herself that she did not need to rush. The temple was collapsed. They had the only clue to the next one. She could afford a little time to address her own aches. She pulled off her rubber sleeve, glad to see it had done it’s job. She frowned at her hand, again missing the glove. She would need to track down her spare, since her other one was now buried under a mountain of rubble. Her hand was not as dirty as it could have been, but it still needed a good cleaning to be up to her standards.

Once her arm was attended to she slipped in the shower, the searing water going a long way to easing her muscles. Her shoulder was especially tight and she had to spend longer on her stump than she had in awhile. The stress of having other individuals in her base was compounding with the stress of the middle causing her muscles to knot up.

Once finished she dried off, the nerves in her stomach returning full force. She took care to dress in long pants and a modest sleeveless top. She slipped her mechanical arm back on, rolling her shoulder a few times to settle it’s weight. After quickly running a brush through her hair, she swiftly braided it as she made her way to the door. Now that she was clean, she felt comfortable putting on her house slippers. The coast was clear, so she ventured out after grabbing her bag of grubby clothes. She had decided against her visor, figuring she had no need of it in her own home.

She made a quick pit stop to the communal restroom to grab the rest of the dirty clothing, and took them to the washer, dumping everything in and starting a cycle.

She was making her way to their quarters when a noise from the kitchen drew her attention, her limbs heavy with trepidation she turned the corner to find a sight she never would have guessed to ever see.

Roadhog had somewhere found a massive pink apron and was bustling around the kitchen, apparently finding something among the simple shelf stable staples to turn into a meal. Junkrat was sitting at the counter at the island, leaning over and chattering away. As she watched he snaked out his hand to stick it in the bowl and causing Roadhog to wack the offending hand with a wooden spoon and shake his head.

Junkrat yelped and popped the struck fingers in his mouth, giving the larger man an offended look. Symmetra was floored, she had absolutely no idea what to do with the scene presented to her. Should she retreat? Interrupt? Scold them for helping themselves?

The matter was taken out of her hands when her stomach growled loudly and she put a hand over it, startled. The movement must have caught Junkrat’s eye because he turned toward her, grinning when they made eye contact.

“Shiela! Me ’n’ Roadie was hungry, so he thought he’d mix something up. You wanna join us?”

Symmetra quickly weight the pros and cons, ultimately deciding it would be rude to refuse and besides, she was ravenous. She watched Road Hog pull the dough out of the bowl, plop it down on a baking sheet, and put it in the oven. There wasn’t a recipe book in sight and she was mystified and impressed, never would have guessing the larger man would have one mesmerized.

She gingerly entered the room, “Symmetra, Junkrat. My name is Symmetra.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “I know, I know.”

She crept closer, curiosity getting the better of her, and the developing smell like a sirens song to her famished stomach, “What are you even making?” It did not smell familiar, whatever was in the pot.

She had directed it at Roadhog but it was Junkrat that answered, “Bread and split pea soup” while Roadhog nodded silently.

Symmetra decided she should give up on the large man ever talking. It was becoming increasingly clear that Junkrat had that area more than covered. She moved to sit at the island next to Junkrat, for the first time actually seeing him in her pants. She couldn’t help it, she covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. They were clearly too small, with the ends of his legs poking comically out at the bottom. They fit around his waist, but were toeing the line of being too snug. His head jerked around at her laugh, then followed her gaze to the pants. His grin was goodnatured, “Told ya Shiela.”

She shrugged as she slipped onto a stool, “There were few other options.”

Sitting down may have been a bad idea, it was like as soon as she got to rest her exhaustion kicked up a notch. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, vainly hoping that would somehow spark some energy in her weary bones.

She felt the air move as his waved a hand dismissively, “S’all right Shiela, soon enough we’ll make a supply run.” She grit her teeth rather than argue, accepting it as futile.

Symmetra zoned out, for how long she wasn’t sure. She may have dozed off for all she knew before getting the distinct feeling she was being watched. She peeked out from under her hands at Junkrat, but he was turned toward Roadhog again. She put her hands down and started when she realized the larger man’s mask was pointed right toward her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, feeling like he was studying her face for a reaction.

She felt her features freeze like they did when she was uncomfortable, a response that had earned her her icy reputation, “I do not believe I have ever had split pea soup.”

Junkrat turned toward her again, “S’a comfort food from back home. Couldn’t find any ham ta throw in, but this’ll do.”

She nodded graciously, “I look forward to trying it.”

His brow furrowed as he looked at her face. It made her feel self conscious, but she resisted the urge to try to look around for a mirror.

Suddenly his expression cleared, “Your goggles.”

Symmetra’s voice was guarded, “What goggles? …You mean my visor? What about my visor?”

“You’re not wearing it.”

She furrowed her brow, “There’s little reason to wear it in my base.”

“It don’t help you see?”

“No?”

“Then whatsits purpose?”

She regarded him closely, trying to discern if he was being genuine in his question or trying to ferret out her secrets. She saw nothing but open curiosity in his face, but she was cautious by nature, she opted for a half truth, “I find the blue….soothing.”

His nose wrinkled, “Soothing?”

She nodded, “Yes. I find that often the constant barrage of information from the world is too stimulating. Too much to take in, and I become overwhelmed. The blue is familiar. It cuts down on the amount of details to process.” She bit her cheek, brow furrowed, that was more personal than she realized, more than she had wanted to reveal. Even worse she found she was worried about how he’d react.

He cocked his head, nodding, “Makes sense. Sometimes I feel like there’s a hive in my head, always buzzing, keeping me from staying focused. Staying on one thing too long…is painful? No trains of thought, only planes.” He shook his head, giving her a rueful grin, “Itsa mess Shiela.”

Her expression smoothed, and she gave him a tentative smile, “I have the opposite problem, I hyper focus, but there’s too much to focus on at once, and I’m overwhelmed.”

His smile turned companionable, something about it made her heart pound. She was used to people giving her blank stares, or sympathetic ones, not understanding. She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the intimate setting and the intimate conversation.

“Quite a pair we are”

She chewed her lip and mutely nodded.

Junkrat’s eyes turned appraising, as if he could read her thoughts. It made her squirm more and she floundered for a subject change. Luckily it presented itself with Junkrat suddenly yawning so wide she thought his head might split in two. It triggered her own yawn and he gave her that playful smirk again, the seriousness of a few moments before gone.

“I dunno about you Shiela, but me’n’Roadie are beat. How about after grub, we turn in? Look at the scroll ‘morrow?”

Symmetra heaved a huge sigh of relief, “Yes, I think that is an excellent plan.” She gave him a shy smile, “All this trudging through old temples is a lot more physically demanding than I thought it would be. More so even than missions.”

His ears seemed to perk up, “Missions?”

Symmetra tensed, her tiredness and how easy it was to talk to Junkrat making her tongue looser than it should have been. She could feel the shadow fall over her face, regretting saying anything, “For a past employer. Before I…went independent.”

He narrowed his eyes, “What kind of missions.”

She gave a noncommittal shrug, “Business deals mostly. Hard light is still a new enough technology that a demonstration was often required to move a developer’s mind forward.”

He scratched his chin, “Hard light?”

“What I use to construct my ‘fancy contraptions’ as you so eloquently called them.”

“Not air?” She could practically see the gears turning in his head, surprised she was curious to know where they were going.

She nodded, “Not air”

“What all can you make?” His fingers were tapping an unsteady rhythm against the table.

She shrugged nonchalantly, “Pretty much anything? That I can design. I have a degree in Architecture and Mechanical Engineering. I can’t just make something without knowing the math behind it. Not if I want it to last anyway.”

He looked impressed but there was also a gleam in his eye she didn’t quite trust. Before she could say anything, a bowl was sliding in front of her, followed shortly by a piece of bread. She startled, then looked up at Roadhog. “Thank you”

A similar plate was set in front of Junkrat, before Roadhog made himself one and then sat down on the other side of the room, his back to them.

She awkwardly tensed, unsure their pre-eating rituals but when Junkrat dove right in, and Roadhog clearly began eating as well, Symmetra mentally shrugged and took a bite. She hummed in appreciation, the soup was heavenly. She swallowed and called out, “It’s very good. Thank you for cooking Mr. Hog.”

She wondered at the larger man eating on the other side of the room, before realizing it must have been so he could hide his face. She tore off a piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully, wondering why he was hiding.

Junkrat snorted, as Roadhog waved his hand in confirmation of hearing her, “You don’t have to keep calling him Mr. Hog. Roadhog ‘sfine.” He was inhaling his food. Symmetra shook her head, daintily taking another bite rather than answering.

They were all ravenous and the only sounds were their utensils as they ate. Once she was done, Symmetra stood up and began to collect the dishes, filling up the sink. Cleaning up the kitchen elegantly solved her conundrum of how to slip into her private side of the compound.

“I’ve got clean-up, if you two want to turn in. There’s a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I want to get started early.”

Roadhog stood up, adjusting his mask. He silently handed her his bowl before ambling out of the dishes.

Junkrat stretched, and in the quiet she heard his vertebrae pop. She tensed as she sensed him coming closer. He was quickly in her personal space, she felt the heat radiating off him as he leaned down to set his own bowl gently by the sink, he just murmured a soft “Night Sheila” and left the kitchen.

And if she finished up the dishes and snuck into her private quarters with a small smile on her lips, no one was around to see it.