Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Jesse McCree wasn’t excited about this assignment any more than his new buddy Hanzo Shimada was, but that didn’t mean he was going to be a dick about it.
That was too much to ask of Hanzo apparently.
Maybe ‘dick’ was a harsh call, but the trip over here had been agonizingly boring, as this Hanzo fella wasn’t much of a talker, or much of anything else really. He was pretty sure that if he ever saw the man smile, it would coincide with something just as unnatural. But, he supposed he couldn’t complain too much. Hanzo was a new guy; maybe he was shy, maybe he was unsure about how Overwatch worked, and seeing as this was one of his first missions without a babysitter, well. Maybe he was just nervous.
Jesse McCree, master Ice Breaker.
He struggled to turn the knob of the hotel room door, surprised he had to hassle with an actual brass key in this day and age. The hotel itself wasn’t too shabby by Jesse’s standards. He’d been in worse. But, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that it was sorta gross, and he wasn’t oblivious to Hanzo’s natural frown curling just a bit more than usual.
Jesse kicked open the door with a boot, key hanging from a plastic diamond clasped between his teeth, and two heavy suit cases in hand. He pushed in and hopped, using his foot to hold the door open for his new partner in crime – or rather in ‘good for all mankind’. Hanzo pushed in, holding two suitcases as well, but he walked in without much hinderance or acknowledgement of the bags’ weight. One was for personal affects, one each, and the other two were for the gear they would need to surveil and complete their mission. Jesse walked in as Hanzo placed the suitcases down equally apart and survey the room.
“Ain’t too bad,” Jesse began. “Seems we got two rooms. Looks like an apartment really, it’s got a couch, and a kitchen. No T.V. though.”
“We won’t need it,” Hanzo said plainly.
“Through that door must be the bedroom or somethin’,” Jesse said, gesturing to the right before putting down his bags and letting the door close on its own. He stepped heavily to the bedroom door and opened it. “Uh oh, we only got one bed in here. One of us is gunna have to take the couch.”
“I will take the couch,” Hanzo said, drifting into the bedroom as Jesse stood in the doorway. “You may stay in here.”
“Well that is very polite of you, but I’m more used to roughin’ it. You can have the bed.”
“I’m not sure where you came upon such an idea, but very well. I will take the bed.”
Jesse winced a little, more meaning to just be polite in his offer to swap, but all right. Couch it was. He pushed into the bedroom and to the right, opening a door to the bathroom and peering inside.
“Bath ain’t too bad, we got a pretty big closet too.”
On the opposite side of the bedroom, Hanzo opened the curtains to the large full-wall window and the balcony it led out on to.
“Good visibility of our target complex. Someone did their job.”
“That kinda the point, yeah?” Jesse asked, walking back into the bedroom and plopping on the bed. He shed his boots and socks and rubbed his sore feet. Spending ten hours on a train was one thing – spending ten hours cooped up in a cargo hold standing was another. “I mean, they wouldn’t put us in this hotel if it were a bad position and all.”
“I suppose you are correct,” Hanzo said, his tone measured. “It is simply a shame this was the best option. But, it will do.”
Jesse chuckled. “Yeah well, these things rarely happen in five-star comfort. It’s part of the charm of it. Fun, y’know? Makes you feel like you’re really doing your job and not just on a vacation.”
“Hmm,” Hanzo murmured.
Jesse realized this was the most Hanzo had talked since they had met up this morning, and he had probably met his limit.
“Well, I’m gunna go out and grab us some chow. You uh…set up.”
Jesse pulled his boots back on and waited for a response. Hanzo stared out the window, broad shoulders rolled back, and arms crossed. He gave Jesse a simple nod.
Jesse returned with two greasy bags of fast food burgers, fries, and pies, and a tray of soda pop. He pushed into the bedroom, ice rattling inside the drink cups as he moved, and bags crinkling in his grip. He noticed that Hanzo had set up one of the telescopes and had gear spread out all over the bed. He was kneeling on the floor, tightening the screw around the tripods base when he glanced upward, watching as Jesse pulled up two cheap wicker arm chairs in front of their three-story view.
“All right, I got some cheese burgers, a fish sandwich, some fries, some little apple pies, and some colas. What will you be havin’?”
He could practically feel the disgust cascading from Hanzo’s sharp expressions.
“I’m not hungry, thank you.”
“You haven’t eaten all day,” Jesse argued. “Come on, one fish sandwich ain’t gunna hurt ya. It was the only place I felt like walking to. My feet hurt like hell. You wouldn’t of had that problem, with your feet being all metal and…” Jesse gestured vaguely, not sure if there was another descriptor for Hanzo’s prosthetic legs.
They were hidden now more than usual, as Hanzo was dressed in casual clothing – pants, shirt, and a hoodie jacket. He wasn’t even wearing his signature yellow sash in his hair, though he was sure the man wouldn’t have forgotten to pack it. Jesse himself wasn’t wearing anything peculiar either.
“Come on, Handzo,” Jesse grinned, pulling out a circular sandwich wrapped in bright yellow paper. He danced it around a bit. “I know you’re hungry.”
“It is Hanzo, no ‘d’ sound,” the grumpy Shimada brother murmured. “Hanzo.”
“Oh, sorry. Here, take the sandwich as my deepest apologies.”
Hanzo’s eyes flicked up in a way that kind of scared Jesse, but the cowboy kept up his thin smile and his little sandwich dance. Hanzo seemed to relax, before standing and snatching the sandwich from Jesse’s hand. He sat calmly in the wicker chair next to him and opened it up gingerly, his nostril and eyebrow curling upward as he did so.
Jesse himself opened his burger and took a monstrous bite. “Oh, my mmphm so good.” He paused to point at his burger. “So good. Haven’t had somethin’ like this in years.”
He chewed, moaning softly and tossing his head back before swallowing and taking another bite. In a matter of a couple minutes, his first burger was gone, and he opened another wrapper easily. He took this chance to glance at Hanzo, who he noticed had been watching him before returning his focus to his sandwich. He took a tiny, restrained, bite. Jesse was relieved to see him decide that it wasn’t too bad and take another larger bite moments later.
“So, Handzo,”
“Hanzo.”
“Hanzo,” Jesse corrected, wondering where the hell that ‘d’ kept coming from. “What you think about this mission? I mean, sure it’s going to be boring for the next two months.”
“On the contrary, it may yield significant intelligence into an organization we know very little about. We suspect foul play, but there is potential for new technology, and perhaps even a new ally. It seems worth the time and effort to figure out which, even if I am overqualified for a simple surveillance mission.”
Jesse shrugged. “Been on a lotta these before, when I was in Blackwatch. Sometimes these things aren’t as simple as they seem.”
“I suppose I’d have to agree,” Hanzo said, taking another bite out of his sandwich.
Jesse shifted, knowing a topic was bobbing up from the depths of his brain, and he tried hard to sink it. He knew it was none of his business, and he knew that he should just let bygones be bygones, especially if the person and topic of desired conversation had put it behind him. But still, he felt like he couldn’t move on from it, and eventually he’d have to bring it up. Why not now?
“I worked with Genji a lot back then too. You know your brother—”
“I know who he is,” Hanzo snapped dryly.
Jesse sank a bit, feeling his chest tighten nervously. Maybe he better back off. But, he was Jesse McCree – master Ice Breaker, and he’d always feel like the lake to their partnership would be frozen if he didn’t at least bring it up once.
“I was there when Overwatch brought him in. He was pretty broken, but. I don’t know. I heard the story from others but not from him. I remember bringing it up once, and the look I got was pretty much the same as the one you’re givin’ me now. Like daggers. But, I don’t know. He finally relaxed and told me that, well, he didn’t blame you or nothing. So, it’s not like I do either, just so you know. I wanted you to know that I ain’t judging or nothin’. I got no hang-ups about it. Genji seemed pretty relieved you joined us too.”
Hanzo sat stiffly in the cheap wicker arm chair, both hands holding the sandwich half in the wrapper. Jesse watched as his fingers curled into the soft bread, before wrapping it up and dropping it back in the paper bag. Abruptly, he stood.
“I will take the couch,” Hanzo murmured, pushing outside and closing Jesse in the bedroom.
Jesse frowned looking down at his second burger, before taking another bite, albeit less enthusiastic. He felt conflicted, having upset him, but also, he was glad he had just come out and said it. The air was stirred, but the dust would settle. Jesse was confident of that. Sometimes breaking the ice meant cracking deep into the foundation all in one go. Whether or not Hanzo and he would ever get along was one thing, but he at least knew the archer would understand that he was accepted and welcomed by the cowboy he was about to spend two long months with.
Or maybe Jesse just wasn’t as good at this sort of thing as he boasted, and all his friendships were lies, and no one liked him an ounce which tended to be the source of most of his nightmares these days, since returning to Overwatch. Maybe Hanzo was just one in a long list.
Well, that wasn’t a pleasant thought.
Jesse finished his burger and moved on to his fries and soda. He eyed the half wrapped up fish sandwich and twisted his mouth as he considered eating that too. What the hell – he was starved from the long day of idle standing. After finishing the rest of the food, he took off his pants and jacket, forgoing his pajamas (they were trapped in the dragon’s lair – aka the front room for now), and slipped into bed. He groaned, regretting eating so much junk food so quickly, but he was fast asleep before he had much time to berate himself.
Whether that be about his appetite or that mysterious invasive ‘d’ sound.