Chapter 5 Beneath The Orange Sun

Lena bounces impatiently on the balls of her feet, shoulders heavy with fatigue from lack of sleep. She purses her lips, grabbing her phone to check the time - 2:00 pm. The sound of approaching footsteps makes her turn quickly, startling the boy now standing before her.

Brian flinches at her sudden movement. Lena's gaze lingers perhaps a beat too long, taking in his navy blue t-shirt, denim pants, and beat-up white Converse. A royal blue zip-up hoodie hangs open over his shoulders. He struggles to meet her eyes, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Good afternoon?" His greeting lilts up like a question, voice tinged with obvious nervousness.

Lena offers a tired smile, a hint of her usual bright energy peeking through as she gives a small wave. "Hiya, Brian! Sorry 'bout that - think I might've scared you a bit." A soft laugh escapes her lips, trying to put them both at ease. "Was just zoning out waitin' on you is all."

The warm afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows that play across Brian's face. He blinks rapidly, seeming to shake off his initial surprise at her intensity. An apologetic look crosses his features.

"No worries, sorry I'm late," he replies, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Got caught up...well, just got caught up is all."

There's a momentary pause as he seems to consider something, worrying his lower lip briefly. Then his shoulders relax slightly as he meets her gaze properly. "Thanks for meeting me. Means a lot you'd take the time."

"Don't thank me, it's just nice to relax with someone," Lena says with a casual wave of her hand. "Plus, I think after our conversation earlier, I ought to repay you for the pastries."

Brian's face flushes red. "You didn't have to, Tracer."

She gives his shoulder a friendly pat, adjusting the fabric of his jacket. "Tracer to my enemies. Lena to my friends." She flashes him a warm smile. "So call me Lena."

The simple gesture and insistence on using her real name seems to put Brian more at ease. He returns her smile, a bit shyly at first, but it soon grows into a genuine grin.

"Lena it is, then." He lets the name linger on his tongue, as if testing how it feels.

In this quiet moment between the two of them, the weight of who she is - the famous Overwatch hero Tracer - seems to fall away. She's just Lena, a friend grabbing coffee with Brian.

The comfortable silence is broken as a trio of kids race past, chasing each other and shrieking with delight. Lena chuckles tiredly at their energy.

"Right then, where were you thinking for this coffee date?" She quirks an eyebrow teasingly at Brian. "Somewhere they've got the good stuff, I hope."

Brian felt himself shake as the sentence went over his head "I.. actually didn't expect you to say yes to this."

"Why's that?" she eyes him curiously.

He rubs the back of his neck again, a nervous tic. "You seemed really tired, and I wanted to talk more, but you were dozing off. I should let you rest, but..." Brian pauses, cheeks pinkening slightly. "I was really excited to see you again."

The earnest bluntness of his words makes Lena smile. She lets out a soft laugh, nudging his arm lightly. "Honesty is the best policy, and I did tell you I'd be happy to chat."

Brian returns her smile, the tension easing from his shoulders as they cross the street. Lena steps ahead of him to avoid a rushing line of pedestrians, and he can't help but notice her casual outfit - a bright orange tank top, waist-high black shorts, and white running shoes giving her the look of an off-duty track star.

He feels the warmth rising in his face again as Lena continues, "So I've been thinking of this coffee shop a few blocks from here. I usually go there with a friend - they make great teas."

Brian's eyes widen with interest. "Do you like tea?"

Lena turns back towards him, lowering her star-shaped orange sunglasses with a grin.

"Right."

As they move onto the sidewalk, Brian catches Lena gazing upwards towards a large billboard while he takes in the bustling surroundings. People watching has always been one of his habits, imagining the lives and stories of the strangers passing by. Lena, meanwhile, is utterly captivating - the vibrant orange of her outfit seeming to reflect the light like a miniature sun now walking among them.

"Have you ever eaten schnitzel?" she asks abruptly, body tilting towards him, hands clasped behind her back as they stroll.

Brian blinks at the random question. "No? I've always wanted to see why it was so popular though."

Lena nods sagely. "Had the same idea when I was younger. I had a friend from Germany and one day on vacation, they cooked some for me." She taps her lip thoughtfully. "Won't lie, it wasn't what I was expecting."

"What did you expect?" Brian asks, captivated by her exaggerated pause for dramatic effect.

"I expected something swanky, but it was just chicken with breadcrumbs!"

His brow furrows. "So it's just like fried chicken?"

"Exactly!" Lena throws her hands up in emphatic confirmation. "It's just fried chicken! And so I never understood why it's considered this 'weird foreign food'. It's literally just fried chicken."

As they continue down the sidewalk, Lena launches into a spirited recounting of other odd international dishes and culinary misconceptions she's encountered over the years. Brian listens raptly

Angela's gaze remains transfixed on the white-haired barista, the faded scar stretching across his face sending a jolt of painful recognition through her. Her shoulders tense, the mug hovering just below her parted lips.

But in a blink, the scar and hateful look disappear, replaced by the man's curious stare as he glances her way. Angela quickly raises her hand, waving him off before refocusing on her work, cheeks flushing slightly.

"Rinne sé iarracht riamh. Theip riamh." The familiar Irish quote barrels through her mind unbidden. She pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain her composure. But the lack of sleep is taking its toll, making any hopes of productive work a losing battle.

The bright cafe surroundings suddenly feel overwhelming, the din of voices and clinking dishes grating on her frayed nerves. Letting out a weary sigh, Angela closes the laptop and begins packing up her things.

Her movements are sluggish, betraying her fatigue. As she slings her bookbag over one shoulder, she chances another glance towards the barista, but he's already turned away, busying himself with other tasks.

Angela worries her lower lip, a fleeting pang of...something...tugging at her. Regret? Relief? She can't pin it down through the mental haze of sleep deprivation.

Cradling her tepid mug of matcha, she makes her way towards the exit, the bell over the door tinkling cheerfully as she pushes through. Out on the sidewalk, she pauses to take a deep, steadying breath of fresh air, letting it fill her lungs.

Angela startles at the familiar voice calling her name. "Miss Ziegler?"

She turns to see a blonde head of ocean blue eyes she knows all too well. "Lena? What are you doing here?"

Her attention fully snaps to her former Overwatch teammate. Angela quickly tucks a stray tuft of blonde hair behind her ear, heart thudding in her chest as she tries to maintain her composure.

"I was going to grab a cuppa with my friend here," Lena replies, gaze shifting to indicate the young man beside her.

Angela's eyes meet Brian's, and she sees the same wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights look mirrored on his face. She blinks slowly, the fatigue weighing heavily, and for a disorienting moment, it seems his pupil shifts to a dark reddish hue. But when she focuses again, both eyes are their normal blue.

Shaking her head minutely, Angela straightens her shoulders, settling seamlessly into the calm, authoritative demeanor befitting Overwatch's former head of medical operations.

"Lena, is this the young man you were speaking of earlier?" Her tone is politely conversational, giving no outward hint of her frazzled inner state.

Lena, never one to be fazed, simply grins and throws an arm amiably around Brian's shoulders, pulling him in as she introduces them.

"Angela, this is my mate, Brian! Brian, Dr. Angela Ziegler - the best doctor in the world, probably the whole galaxy to be honest."

Despite Lena's energetic embellishment, there's an unmistakable fondness and respect in the way she speaks of Angela. For her part, the doctor offers Brian a warm professional smile, canted just slightly by the tiredness weighing on her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Brian." Her handshake is firm but gentle, still radiating the compassionate bedside manner that no doubt reassured countless patients over the years.

She catches Lena's concerned gaze flit over her wan features, but the younger woman doesn't comment. Instead, she deftly shifts gears.

"Say, you simply MUST join us for coffee, Ang! This one here-" she gives Brian's shoulder a playful jostle "-was just telling me about this dish he's been working on. Could do with a bit of a bite myself, to be honest."

Lena's hopeful, cajoling tone leaves little room for argument. Angela huffs a small chuckle, acquiescing with a cant of her head.

"Well, I certainly can't say no to good company and a chance to get off my feet for a bit. Lead the way, you two."

Brian was led inside by Lena with Angela walking to his left "it is nice to see you again. And be formally introduced." The soft silk like tone of the Swiss woman's voice put Brian at ease "I wanted to talk more with you but duty calls." Brian trailed off "thank you for taking the moment to help me." Angela spoke quietly and Brian nodded "no worries." Angela blinked away the sight of the red pupil once again focusing intently on the boy.

"Angela, your order?" Lena's voice cuts through, finally drawing the doctor's rapt attention away from Brian.

Angela blinks slowly, as if surfacing from deep underwater. She turns to face the barista. "I...need a moment longer to think, please."

Her gaze slides briefly to Brian. "Brian?" There's a gentle prompting in her tone, as though coaxing a favored pupil to speak up.

Brian clears his throat, still flushed from Angela's uncomfortably intimate scrutiny. "A chai tea, please."

"One for me as well," Angela chimes in smoothly, giving Brian's arm an indulgent pat before reluctantly withdrawing her touch.

Lena's frown deepens almost imperceptibly as she watches the exchange. There's an unsettling intensity, an inappropriate intimacy in the way Angela dotes on this practical stranger. Her body language, the proprietary manner in which she seems to hold Brian's attention - it sets off faint alarm bells Lena can't quite define.

The trio receives their drinks and finds a small table by the window. Angela takes the seat next to Brian, while Lena sits across from him. Brian's blue eyes focus on the passersby outside until Angela breaks the comfortable quiet.

"So Lena told me you two met a few nights ago," she says, her palms leaving her paper cup of chai to envelop Brian's hands on the table.

The sudden intimate touch from one of his heroes makes Brian's cheeks flush crimson. "Thank you," she spoke leaving the boy caught off guard.

Angela's eyes crinkle warmly at the corners as she beams, seeming not to notice his discombobulation. "Just helping someone in need I'm sure." she soothes, giving his hands an indulgent squeeze.

Across the table, Lena's eyes remain fixed on Angela's face, a slight frown tugging at her lips as an unreadable chill prickles up her spine.

"Such a kind, thoughtful young man," Angela continues in that melodious, gently probing tone. Her thumbs brush over Brian's knuckles in a soothing caress as she leans in closer, fixing him with her full attentive focus.

"Lena mentioned your discussion the other night. About finding higher purpose, making sense of life's disappointments." Her head cants slightly, hazel eyes brimming with tender curiosity. "I must admit, I'm quite intrigued to hear more about the young man who's been such a big help."

There's an unmistakable grandiose admiration, an oddly proprietary fondness in the way she regards him. As if Brian is a uniquely special creature she's discovered - and her yearning to know every nuanced facet of his mind.

"We so often overlook the wisdom of youth in favor of age and experience," Angela murmurs, hand drifting across the table to soothe over Brian's forearm. The delicateness of her touch contrasts with the intensity of her attention, pinning him in place like a butterfly meticulously studied.

"But I find the younger generations have profound and invaluable perspectives to share, if only we take the time to truly listen." Her voice takes on a warm, urgent timbre, like one imploring a loved one to unburden their soul's deepest secrets without fear.

Lena's brow furrows as she watches this uncomfortably intimate display across the table. But she remains silent, lips pressed in a tight line as she scrutinizes her dear friend's ardent behavior with unease.

The café surroundings seem to blur and distort around Brian as Angela's relentless stream of questions washes over him. Her melodious voice probes insistently into the details of his life - his studies, hopes for the future, idle anecdotes.

Though something prickles with vague unease at the back of his mind, Brian finds himself helplessly caught up in the beautiful former heros attention. The words tumble from his lips in a rambling torrent, stories and private musings spilling out in a way that doesn't quite feel like his own voice, his own consciousness guiding them.

Across the table, Lena's frown deepens to a contracted wince as she watches. The fixation in Angela's body language, the inappropriate intimacy of her touch lightly trailing along Brian's arms...it sets off deafening alarms reverberating through Lena's skull, loud enough to induce vertigo.

"Brian?" Lena calls out, her melodic voice cutting through his conversation with Angela. Brian turns his head, her sunny disposition pulling him from his stupor. "Y-yes Lena?"

She flashes him a bright grin, though fatigue tugs at the edges. "You said you wanted to show me something in town. Think we can go check it out? Not sure how much longer I can last." Lena lets out an exaggerated yawn, her smile failing to mask the odd melancholy in her eyes.

Angela shoots Lena a peculiar look laced with subtle irritation. "We were just in the middle of something, Lena."

"I saw, but I'm afraid me and him are a bit pressed for time. So if you don't mind..." Lena rises fluidly, placing a hand on Brian's sleeve and gently tugging him up. He follows, giving Angela an awkward wave. "It was nice to see you again!"

As they exit the coffee shop, Lena exhales heavily, the weight of the meeting settling on her shoulders. They round the corner, out of eyesight before she speaks up. "So, you two have met?" Worry lines crease her brow.

Brian meets her piercing orange-tinted gaze, seeing stress and something deeper there. "While I was at work, I saw her pretty torn up about something. So I gave her some water, thinking maybe it would help. And then I thanked her."

"For what?" Lena prods, her slight irritation surfacing in her suspicious tone.

He falters, seeing no room for dishonesty with this woman who could probably break his spine like a twig. "My brother got really hurt during the war. Without her biotic machinery and nanites, he could have lost the arm."

Lena scans his face intently, searching for any hint of deception before sighing, hands on hips.

"She isn't usually like that with people," Lena says, a crease forming between her brows. "I wondered if maybe you two had some history."

Brian shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm confused too. She seems really...affectionate?"

Lena shakes her head, chocolate brown locks swaying. "I've never seen her like that before. Be careful, won't you love?" She reaches up, placing a hand gently on his chin and tilting his face up to meet her knowing gaze. The intimate gesture surprises him, but there's a tenderness there that makes him feel butterflies.

She lets go and glances at her watch, the brief moment of wistful vulnerability overshadowed again by her plucky energy. "Lena?"

She turns back towards Brian, his nervousness palpable. Offering a reassuring smile, she makes an inquisitive "Hm?" noise.

"Can I..." He hesitates, cheeks pinking as he holds out his phone. "Can I have your number?"

A melodic laugh escapes her lips at his awkward but endearing request. "Sure."

Lena takes the phone, quickly adding her number and snapping a playful selfie, giving him a wink and stuck-out tongue for good measure. She knows this small, impulsive gesture will likely leave the boy wondering if he's in a dream.

Handing his phone back, she shoots him a warm smile. "Have a good day, okay?" Though her usual sunny disposition shines through, Brian catches a flicker of worry in her eyes before she turns and rejoins the crowd, bouncing off with a cheerful energy