#LESBIAAANNNNSSS

[asynca]

Respect Your Leader - Mercy (POV) x the whole team - SFW

Mercy is sick of her team bickering, and decides to assume control of them. Crack humour, with implied F/F/F/F/F.

Speed prompt, written in 120 minutes.

[AO3] | [Fanfiction.net]

I’d hardly collected all my medical supplies and disembarked from the ship, and already I could hear that my ‘team’ were at it. Not this again, I thought, sighing at length. I’d just about had it with all their senseless bickering.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Tracer didn’t sound at all happy about discovering who else had been assigned to our mission. “I thought spiders preferred dark and damp environments. You know, like toilets.”

Widowmaker—who was actually keeping mostly to herself today, I thought—looked equally as unimpressed to be grouped up with Tracer. “I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about ‘damp’,” she fired right back, “You haven’t been near anything wet in your entire life.”

A third voice—Pharah, thankfully, she was mostly far less petty than those two—interrupted their little tiff. “Can we please focus?” she asked. “Save the childish bickering for after we’ve completed the objective.”

Widowmaker did not take well to that wording. “Sorry, ‘childish’?” Her voice was dry as a bone. “Me, or the person who spent the entire last objective throwing a tantrum and refusing to use comms because her mother politely suggested she should wait for the rest of the team before drawing fire?”

Pharah stiffened. “She wasn’t there, she didn’t know what I was planning. Her advice was just distracting me, that’s all.”

Widow was unmoved. “The highlight was when your voice cracked as you said, ‘You never trust me with anything, Mother,’ before switching off your headset.”

The vein in Pharah’s forehead popped out. “It was a strictly business decision. I was trying to concentrate.”

Widowmaker scoffed. “Will you make a business decision to throw a tantrum and switch off comms if someone tells you to stop running a one man team on this mission, too?” she asked. “Perhaps it’s too much of an adjustment to go back to taking orders when you were giving them for so long, Amari? Is that it?”

Pharah looked dangerously close to just flat out decking Widowmaker. “Well, it’s a moot point, Lacroix, because I’m leading this mission, so everyone will be following my orders. Including you.”

“Well, you’re not going to get very far if you don’t listen to the advice of your sniper this time,” Widowmaker told her, taking a casual, inflammatory step towards Pharah. “Just saying.”

“Actually,” that was Tracer’s primmest voice, and she took the opportunity to blink in between Widowmaker and Pharah and jab Widowmaker’s chest with the point of a finger, “I’m the scout, and we’ve run loads of successful missions before without a sniper. We don’t need one, and if you’re going to be such a twat about everything, you can just stay on the damn ship.”

Widowmaker acted as if Tracer hadn’t even spoken, her eyes still on Pharah. “Are you going to switch of comms in this mission, too, Amari?” She paused theatrically and feigned concern. “Wait a minute, should I not call you that? ‘Amari’? I don’t want people confused that I’m talking about the actual Captain Amari. You know, the Amari who won all the medals and saved so many lives…” Another pause. “Not the Amari who is essentially just an over-militarised mall security guard who actually thinks she can run a one-man strike team and bursts into tears when mummy says she can’t.”

Beside me on the bridge, Zarya made a gruff noise. “Some team,” she commented in her charming accent, and then looked down at me, jerking her thumb behind us with her eyes twinkling. “You know, it’s not too late to just get back on the ship and go home.”

I laughed. I’d forgotten how much I liked her. “I don’t really think that’s an option,” I admitted, “although it’s tempting, given this lot.” I looked down by the hanger door; the three of them were about a moment away from tearing each other to pieces.

Oh, dear. Well, I couldn’t just let them murder each other before the mission had even started, could I? My Caduceus staff was nearly at 0%. Someone needed to take charge of this lot. I sighed; I supposed that would have to be me. Why was it always me?

“I’m going to need your help,” I told Zarya over my shoulder as I left the bridge to approach my ‘team’.

She chuckled, hoisting her absolutely enormous gun over one shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. “Understood.”

I don’t know what the rest of them were bickering about, but whatever it was, I called cheerfully over it, “Alright, that’s quite enough of that!”

They all paused for a second, looked at each other, and then all at once began to try and tell me what was wrong with each other. I wasn’t going to have it, so I held up a hand. “No, I don’t care,” I told them as pleasantly as I could. “I don’t care who did what. We’re a team, we’re going to act like one. And, if none of the actual soldiers is able to get along for five seconds and actually lead the mission, I’m going to.” I looked back over my shoulder. “That’s alright with you, Zarya, isn’t it?”

Leaning casually on her upright gun, Zarya chuckled and saluted me.

That’s what I liked to see! “Excellent,” I told her with a smile, and then turned back to the others.

Widowmaker looked even more unimpressed than she had when she and Tracer were at it. “What make you think you have the skill or the knowledge to—”

I talked over her. “That’s quite enough.”

Looking disgusted, tried again anyway. “What does a doctor think she’s doing by—”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. I put one gloved finger firmly over those bee-stung lips of hers. “I said that’s enough, Amélie,” I told her, and left my hand there for just a moment. “We’re a team. I’m leading the team. You won’t talk over me.”

Pharah, proving that despite the best training she sometimes could be baited to be a little immature, said dryly beside me, “What’s the matter, Widowmaker? Having trouble taking orders from someone?”

Privately, I actually found Pharah turning Widowmaker’s words back on her to be rather well-placed and I’d probably laugh about it with her later; now, though, I couldn’t. Everyone on the team needed to get the same treatment from me; favouritism wouldn’t do at all. “You too, Pharah,” I said pleasantly. “Keep your mouth shut unless it’s to do with the mission.”

I don’t think she’d expected that—we were friends, after all. She looked at me with genuine surprise for a moment but then, understanding my methods, stood to attention, saluted, and looked straight past me with military-level discipline.

Huh. I always did like it when she was like this. Especially when she was wearing uniform; very appealing.

Tracer, looking between Widowmaker and Pharah, made a decision to copy Pharah and stood to attention too, her chest all puffed out. It was perhaps the most adorable thing I’d ever seen, and it was nice to be able to give orders to someone who’d immediately take them. “Good girl,” I told her. She beamed.

Widowmaker practically gagged at it. “’Good girl’?” she repeated, sounding ill. “’Good girl?’ What are you running her, Doctor, is it a strike team, or is a pre-school for wayward—?”

Beside me, there was a heavy thump. We all jumped. Zarya had let her weapon fall to the ground and was approaching Widowmaker with long, heavy strides and a glum expression. “That’s enough from you,” she told Widowmaker. “I don’t know about France, but in Russia, we don’t play games. We respect our leader.” She only stopped when she was toe-to-toe with Widowmaker, looming over her and peering down at her. “So, show her some respect.”

Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events. I decided not to interfere.

Widowmaker looked straight back up at her. “Or what? You’ll ‘crush me like big Siberian bear’?” she asked, rather rudely imitating Zarya’s accent.

Zarya wasn’t baited at all. “Or I’ll do whatever Mercy tells me to do to you,” she said calmly. “Because she’s the leader. Now,” she said, putting two huge hands on either one of Widowmaker’s shoulders. “Kneel. Show some respect to your leader.”

Widowmaker’s arrogant veneer faded somewhat. “W-What?”

Beside them, Pharah and Tracer glanced at each other, wide-eyed and tittering, and then smothered their amusement and hopped back to attention when I gave them a chastising look.

Zarya’s booming voice made us all jump. “I said kneel!” she said, and then forced Widowmaker to her knees.

Honestly, I think Widowmaker was too surprised to retaliate, because I can’t imagine she’d ordinarily allow herself to be treated like that. It was so ridiculously over the top—were they really like that in Russia?

“That’s better,” Zarya said far more moderately once Widowmaker was actually on her knees, “and if you get up, I will be the one to tell Talon that you are why we failed our mission, because you were unable to swallow your pride and engage in proper, efficient teamwork.”

With that, she gave Widowmaker one more look of warning, and then turned to walk past me to where she’d left her gun.

“Are this really how you do it in Russia?” I whispered to her on the way past.

She chuckled; a low and rich sound. “No,” she said simply, and then flashed me a white-teethed grin. “At least, not on the battlefield.”

My eyebrows shot up; oh, my. I wasn’t able to stop myself from laughing at little.  

It didn’t take long for Widowmaker’s transparent surprise to morph into deep displeasure. “This is ridiculous,” she hissed. “Is humiliating your teammates on the Overwatch charter? No wonder it was decommissioned. Talon never forces its agents to submit to tactics like this.”

Tracer was busy scoffing behind her. “They wouldn’t need to force you, I bet you happily kneel in front of loads of random people all the time,” she said, and then began to giggle at her own joke.

She stopped immediately when we all looked at her, though, panicking. “Oh, um, ‘silence’. Got it, Doc! Sorry!” she said, and then immediately knelt, too.

Since they were both kneeling, and since this was all far more interesting that I’d thought it would be, I looked up at the last soldier standing, so to speak: Pharah.

She looked down at me, confused. There were beads of sweat on her forehead.

I cleared my throat, and then smiled pointedly at her.

She finally realised what I meant. “Oh! Oh.” She knelt, too.

And, just like that, I had three previously very troublesome teammates silent, compliant, and kneeling in front of me.

Well, this had all turned out rather nicely! I almost wanted to take a seat here, sip tea, and admire my handiwork. Perhaps I should try my hand at leading more often?

There weren’t any seats, however, so I just walked a slow, leisurely circle around the three of them, appreciating the peaceful (alright, extremely tense) silence. It was nice to be able to hear myself think for once, and—if I’ll admit it—it was rather nice having such attractive teammates all doing exactly as I told them, even if it would be very unprofessional of me to say it aloud.

Unfortunately for me and my private enjoyment, Athena started a count-down, which meant my fun was over.

“Well, let’s get ready then, shall we?” I asked, motioning for them to stand.

“Oh, I’m allowed to stand up now?” Widowmaker asked me, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but she dropped the snark immediately when Zarya casually slammed the base of her weapon on the ground next to her and made her jump.

I smiled at Zarya. “After you,” I offered her as the door opened.

“No, no,” she said easily, insisting I exit before her, “after you, Leader.”

I laughed. Wasn’t she obliging! “Very well!” I told her, accepting her invitation. “I suppose if I draw fire, that just helps things for you, doesn’t it?”

With that, I led possibly the most subdued and compliant team I’d ever been in out on the battlefield and to a rather easy victory, and—not that I’d say so aloud!—I took some rather pleasant mental images back to my quarters that night.