Chapter Text
Ashe draws in a deep breath and holds it, her eyes slide closed. The scorching sun beats down, baking her skin. The air is dry and still; there isn't a single hint of moisture as the desert dust fills her lungs once more.
She exhales a blissful, euphoric sigh. She’s home.
“I missed this,” Cole murmurs from beside her. “This air, the smell. It’s been so long.”
“How long?”
“Well, excluding all my fleeting visits, the last time I truly allowed myself to enjoy this, just existing without my boss being a foreboding presence over my shoulder…” He looks down at her and smiles, taking her hand. “Not since we were last together.”
“Awful long time to miss something,” Ashe replies, squeezing his hand gently.
“Don’t I know it,” he murmurs, smiling wistfully.
On the horizon, two bikes riding side-by-side appear, and she feels a slight squeeze of apprehension in her chest. The good thing about landing on the Sunday of a long weekend is that the clubhouse is devoid of life. She didn’t tell Frankie or Bez that she was on her way back from Europe, and she definitely didn’t pre-warn them about Cass, so they’re going to be pissed.
“You ready for this?” Ashe asks.
“Nope.” Cass groans. “But whatever it takes.”
“They’ll come around.”
Ashe hopes.
As the bikes approach the gates, Bob meets them. They greet him with open arms, warm embraces and beaming smiles. However, when their gazes shift to her and Cass their entire demeanour sours with scowls as ferocious as a storm approaching from the horizon.
“We’re fucked,” Ashe whispers with a little chuckle.
“You wanna make this look a little more professional?” Cass tries to pull his hand away from hers but she squeezes tighter.
“Ain’t gonna hide you from them.” She looks up at him. “‘Sides, I’m their boss. I don’t pay ‘em to hate on my personal decisions.”
“And when they mutiny?”
“Oh, they wouldn’t dare.”
“Ashe!” Frankie runs for her, throwing her arms around her. “Welcome home.”
“Good to be home,” Ashe replies, embracing her. When they separate, Frankie looks her up and down with a sly smirk on her lips. “Looks good on you.”
Ashe frowns. “What does?”
Frankie side-eyes Cass, a flash of disapproval in her eyes before she lightens up. “Cass. Long time no see,” she says politely.
“Been a while, yeah.” Cass offers his hand, and Frankie takes it. “Thanks for your help with Null Sector.”
“Glad the threat is gone.”
Bez pulls up beside Frankie, hands in his pockets and a straight face. His eyes are on Ashe, and she holds his stare with one just as flat until he finally cracks, a little uptick of a smirk appearing on his lips.
“Bez,” Ashe breathes, embracing him. Now she feels like she’s home. She has her team, they have her back, and everything’s back to how it should be.
“Welcome home.” Bez pulls away from her. “I assume you’re done saving the world?”
“Yeah, wasn’t for me. Not when this is my world.”
Bez’s eyes flick to Cass, now brimming with venom. “Him too?”
Ashe takes a breath and holds it. She knew this was coming, facing Bez head-on about Cass, and despite all the time she had to think about this moment, from reluctant acceptance to full-blown refusal, she still isn't prepared for the real thing.
She looks at Cass, staring into his eyes. Right now, he is her world, her sanctuary. She hopes it’s permanent, ever-present for the rest of their lives. The rage, the resentment she had just weeks ago is gone, like a heavy fog has lifted. She knows that he feels the same way.
It could all go tits up, but right now…
“Yeah,” Ashe breathes, turning her attention back to Bez.
Bez draws in a breath and nods. His face is again devoid of emotion as his gaze shifts back to Cass. In a flash, however, he contorts into pure rage, reeling back his arm and clocking Cass with the meanest right hook she's ever witnessed.
As Ashe and Bob get between them, mostly to stop Cass from retaliating and turning this into a fistfight, Bez takes several steps back, hands raised in surrender. She realises at that moment that Cass isn’t pushing against her for a piece of Bez; his hands are also raised. As Bez storms off, clutching his fist to his chest, Ashe relaxes.
Frankie scoffs in surprise, but the grin on her face tells Ashe all she needs to know—she too got joy out of this. “I’ll take care of Bez.”
Ashe sighs, eyes landing on Bob ready to go full Mother Goose on Cass. “I got this, Bob,” she murmurs. “Make sure Bez cools off and gets a bag of peas on his hand, I don't want him out of action due to his own stupidity.”
With an affirmative nod, Bob gives them space.
Exhaling in a rush, Ashe stands front-on to Cass, eyeing the rapidly blooming bruise on his chin and cheek, and his bloodied lip. She swipes her thumb against it gently and he sucks in a breath.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he replies, wincing as he gently presses his fingers to his jaw. “Can’t say that was unexpected.”
“Would’ve been suspicious if it didn’t happen, honestly.” She smiles softly. “Thank you for not retaliating.”
“I'm not here to stir up trouble.” He smiles, then sucks in a breath through his teeth. “He doesn't fuck around,” he murmurs, cupping his cheek while opening his mouth and wiggling his jaw.
Ashe cannot help the grin that blooms on her lips. I'm not here to stir up trouble. The words echo in his her mind—if that's not the surest proof that Cass is serious about this, then nothing is.
“Goddamn,” Cass says with a chuckle. “Ain't gonna be able to eat you out for a while.”
Ashe scoffs a laugh, linking her arm around his. “C’mon, let’s get some ice on it.”
Ashe’s whole body shudders as a long, breathy moan passes her lips as she sinks down on Cass. A smile tugs at her lips as she settles in his lap and gingerly cups his face.
This has been their life for the last month. They’ve been hiding away at her house, doing nothing but fucking and sleeping and living off takeout. Bob offered to stay with Bez to give her and Cass space, but it hasn't stopped him from flitting in and out with fresh groceries in an attempt to cook them something homemade. While the thought is appreciated, they shoo him away because, well, they’ve been in a complete state of undress for most of the time.
While Bob is settling into his new role with Overwatch well, Frankie and Bez have done amazingly taking over leadership of the gang, so much so that Ashe is considering full retirement. It's good not having to check expense reports and inventories, to meet with gangs to keep the peace because of some insignificant turf war, and it's fucking amazing not having to deal with new and prospective buyers for their products. She hadn't realised just how traumatized the incident on Route 66 was, and how that carried onto every heist and meeting after.
It's nice not having to think.
It's nice not having to deal with prospects getting themselves into avoidable trouble.
It's nice having Cass here as a complete and utter distraction from the outside world.
A soft, sympathetic smile teases her lips as she caresses the yellowing, lingering hints of the bruise from when Bez clocked him, just peeking above his beard. Cass and Bez have kept their distance in the scant few moments they've been together in the same room, a relief that Ashe is grateful for. The tension is still there, so thick and palpable she could cut through it with a knife, but there have been no further fisticuffs so she’ll take it.
Drawing in a breath, she lifts her hips slowly. Cass’s head falls against the headboard, he grips her thighs tightly. This build-up is her favourite thing, more than the inevitable conclusion. She loves seeing him slowly unravel, go from completely coherent to a babbling, moaning mess.
She leans in slowly, pressing her lips to his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. He meets her in the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. He moans and she swallows it down, draping her arms over his shoulders and picking up her pace.
They're taking their time with it now, a reprieve from the unhinged fucking they've been doing all over the house. This is the first time they've been in her bed in over a week, the first time this moment has felt sentimental since they've been home.
She pulls back from him, just enough to look into his heavy-lidded eyes. Her gaze then shifts to his mouth as a shuddered breath passes his lips; he's there. His hands shift to her ass, squeezing tight as his hips lift off the bed. His whole body tenses, his eyes widen and he moans between gasping breaths. She watches him, at the height of his pleasure, and she could do this for the rest of her fucking life.
As Cass relaxes, he looks up at her with a blissed-out smile on his lips. She doesn’t say anything and neither does he, and it’s perfect.
This is her life now; fucking and sleeping and take-out, and she couldn’t be happier.
Their hibernation inevitably comes to an end, thanks to the World Cup.
Cass got into soccer thanks to the Overwatch crew who are celebrating the World Cup too. She and Cass are in a group chat with them all, and it's all they've been excitedly talking about for the last week. For her sanity, she has notifications muted because those fuckers can talk and she doesn’t need her phone going off every five minutes.
Today’s game is Brazil versus South Korea. The fact that she knows that much is a testament to just how much these people have infiltrated her defences. Sport is one of her least favourite things, with participation edging slightly ahead of spectating. And soccer sits right at the bottom of her sports list. It just isn't for her, not with the showboating and the rioting fans after the loss of a game.
Despite it, she can't help but huff a little laugh at the picture from the group chat, both Hana and Lúcio are decked out in their respective team colours, face paint and all, with the rest of the crew behind them, grinning in delight while holding up drinks to the camera in a toast. She'll admit that she could get behind the game if she were there, in the atmosphere of everyone watching the game. She imagines sitting in the back with Angela, present but not following along as they chat about things not sport.
Cass has been a little bummed out that he isn't there with them, which is why he organised his own little watch party in solidarity. And, as a means of extending an olive branch, he invited Bez and Frankie to clear the air. They’re just as big soccer nuts and—
She just doesn’t get it.
But the olive branch is cute. And mature. This version of Cass is older and wiser and complex; he's cautious and caring and has table manners. He’s courteous, gives more than he takes, especially in the bedroom.
This version of Cass is her favourite.
While she hopes for the best outcome out of this, that they all make peace and move on with their lives, the unfortunate thing is that Bez and Franke are yet to arrive, and it’s only five minutes before the game starts.
With a sigh, Ashe takes a bowl of chips to the lounge, places it on the coffee table and sits on the armrest of the couch beside Cass. She offers him a smile and he smiles back, but there’s a hint of sadness behind it. He’s trying, but he’s burned them too many times.
“Here,” he murmurs, lifting his phone to take a selfie. She calls Bob over with the wave of her hand and leans closer to Cass as Bob settles on his other side, hand raised in a wave. Cass snaps the shot, then types a little message before hitting send.
She kisses the top of Cass's head and drapes her arm around him. The least she can do is sit here and watch this game with him, even though it will be the most boring two hours of her life—
The doorbell rings and Cass sits up in a rush. Ashe stands, giving his hand a comforting squeeze before making her way to the door. If Cass does a runner she wouldn’t be surprised, nor blame him. This is a huge step; he wouldn't have contemplated back in the day because he believed he was infallible.
She takes a deep breath as she stands in front of the door, releasing it and any hints of anxious energy as she opens it, and settles on Frankie and Bez.
“Sorry,” Frankie says. Then she hooks her thumb over her shoulder to Bez behind her. “This one spent twenty minutes staring at whiskey, then beer, then wine, frozen and unable to make a decision.”
Ashe scoffs and steps aside for them. “What’d you settle on?”
Frankie steps through, dramatically rolling her eyes. Bez follows behind, glances at her in embarrassment and holds up two weighty bags, both with several bottlenecks poking from the openings
Ashe cannot help but smile. He’s nervous too.
She follows them into the kitchen and no one says a word. The tension is back as thick as always, but the fact that they showed up is a good sign.
They're ready to make this work.
Bob looks between Frankie and Bez as they stand awkwardly, then he settles on Ashe, and she grimaces. Frankie clicks her tongue, gives Bez a backhand across the bicep and flicks her head Cass’s way. Bez sighs deeply, plucks a six-pack of beers from one of the bags and makes his way to the lounge with the same energy as someone making their way to the gallows. But as he takes his final steps towards Cass he perks up, plucks a bottle from the cardboard carrier and offers it to him.
Cass stares at it for a moment, hesitation clear in his eyes, but he takes it. “Thanks,” he says politely.
Bez just nods in response, taking a seat on the opposite couch. He opens his beer and offers it in a silent toast. Cass reciprocates by clinking his bottle against Bez’s.
Frankie breathes a sigh of relief and heads into the lounge, and Ashe can only smile. Bob settles beside her, arm draped over her shoulder and she holds his hand. She couldn't have asked for a better outcome.
She couldn't have dreamt that this is where she would end up when she decided to join Bob at Overwatch.
Tears of joy well in her eyes.
They say that life is short and the world is wide.
The thing about the world, though, is that it’s round, and if you embark on a journey you will end up exactly right where you started. And for Ashe, given everything that has happened over the last twenty years—the pain, the loneliness, the heartache, the anger—she's come full circle and she's back with the people she loves the most in this world.
For the first time in a long time, tomorrow is a brighter day than today.