Chapter Text
It started as a tickle in the back of her throat. Angela didn’t have time for it, so she did what any overworked, under-rested, caffeine-addicted workaholic did. She ignored it, just like everyone ignored the fact that Genji wasn’t wearing pants. (She privately suspected that he just wanted to show off his butt, which she simultaneously thought was touching and hilarious. Touching, because she had to work long hours to get that ass to function properly and she liked that he appreciated her hard work and wanted to show it off, and hilarious because by this point she was sure that everyone on the planet had seen it, marveled over it, and then wondered why he still wasn’t wearing pants years later.)
Besides, they had a payload to push, and she had idiots to heal. A small tickle was nothing important. Healing McCree and Soldier: 76 from their bullet wounds was important.
“Oh well,” she thought. “At least they are moving the payload.” Suppressing the urge to cough, she glided over and started up the healing beam.
But ignoring it did not help the cough that she developed the next day. Or the small sneezes she would occasionally emit. Ana had just narrowed her remaining good eye at Angela at the sound of the sneezes and continued sipping her tea. Jesse loudly barked a laugh and proclaimed that her sneezes were “cuter than a newborn kitten with its momma” to which everyone within earshot tilted their head in confusion, then realized that it made more sense than most things he said, and shrugged.
Angela scowled and whirled on him, retorting, “I am not cute! I am a trained medical professional and can name all the bones in your body as I break them!”
Or at least she attempted to. The effect was somewhat diminished as she broke down in kitten-cute sneezes at the end of her tirade.
Jesse howled in laughter and elbowed his new drinking-buddy/target-to-annoy-with-his-cowboy-charms, Hanzo. Hanzo shot a glare at McCree, but had a loose fist suspiciously covering his mouth that didn’t conceal his smile. Hanzo continued flipping through the fashion magazine on his tablet, stopping to mark certain pages as he continued to smile, and remarked, “It would be wise to not annoy the good doctor, McCree. She is the reason for your continued survival throughout many of these missions.”
“Aww, but she jus’ sneezes like the cutest thing I ever saw!” pleaded Jesse.
“And what would that be, exactly?” interjected Hana, who was upside down on the common room sofa with a gameboy held in one hand.
“…Wut would wut be?”
“The cutest thing you ever saw!”
Jesse seemed to think for a moment, before lighting up. “Why, I would say that the cutest thing I ever saw wuz…” He paused for dramatic effect.
Hanzo looked a mixture of pre-emptively unimpressed and annoyed.
“When you taught the noodles tricks! I especially liked that you taught ol’ grumpy pants’ here noodles to kiss your cheeks for a photo!”
Hanzo flushed red, stood up with his tablet in his hands and tried to beat McCree over the head with the tablet. “They are not ‘noodles’! They are thousands of years old dragon spirits that should be treated with respect, not taught silly tricks!”
As Jesse laughingly fended off Hanzo’s (very feeble – seriously, was he even trying?) attacks with his hands, Hana righted herself on the couch and started yelling about how the noodles’ “silly tricks” had gotten over 3 million likes and hearts on the internet in 2 hours. Plus, they were hard to train little brats. They had eaten the entire bag of chips before they got the trick down! Genji’s noodle had only taken a third of a bag!
Angela took the commotion as an opportunity to escape the idiocy, but even as she left, she couldn’t escape the headache blooming in her skull or the cough bubbling up in her throat.
The coughing and sneezing got worse the day after the cute incident (at least she thought it was the next day, she had cooped herself in the med bay for an unknown amount of time immediately after being insulted). The med bay was stocked with only subpar coffee, a terrible bar of chocolate, and the tiniest sliver of cake in the mini-fridge for foodstuffs. Honestly, the team never appreciated how much hardship she went through to keep them healthy. That chocolate bar had been awful. Speaking of food, she realized that she had eaten and drank all of the available foodstuffs she had hoarded. Time to go to the kitchen. And possibly grab an extra blanket from the common room. The temperature in the med bay was obviously broken, as it kept fluctuating between unbearably hot and cold enough to start cryo-storage. Angela would have to speak to Winston about the unacceptable conditions she was working under.
She had even startled Zenyatta out of his meditation with the worsened cough as she passed by his room on her way to the kitchen. Once he had regrouped all of his orbs (minus one, it was stuck in the ceiling), he floated into the hallway remarking, “Friend, I do believe you should see the good doct-” before he noticed who he was talking to.
“Dr. Ziegler, are you well?” inquired the robot as he sped up his floating to catch up to Angela.
“Ja ja, I will be fine, just a small cough. No need to be concerned, Zenyatta.” Angela waved him off with a small smile.
Zenyatta’s face plate remained impassive, but he tilted his head a fraction. “Dr Ziegler, I know you have been working hard lately; perhaps you should take some time to rest? Come, meditate with me, and I will go send Genji to make some tea with honey for your cough.”
Angela inwardly grimaced. She liked Zenyatta, and knew that he was crucial in helping the team both in and out of battle with his healing orbs and peaceful teachings, but just because he can do some healing with his harmony orb or whatever didn’t mean he knew modern medicine! Not that she was ill. It was just a cough! And sneezing! And the thermostat was broken!
Angela forced a smile on her face and replied, “I will keep that in mind Zenyatta, but right now I need to have lunch.”
Zenyatta’s head tilted a few more degrees. “Dr. Ziegler, my internal chronometer says it is 5:13 p.m. It is well past lunchtime. Did you forget to eat?”
Angela was about to respond with “I apologize, I meant dinner, I misspoke” (and conveniently leave out the meager food she had consumed) when she started to cough again.
It only was three coughs; it wasn’t that bad, but Zenyatta floated backwards a few centimeters and leaned back. (Inwardly, Angela wondered why, it wasn’t like he could get sick. Not that she was contagious or anything. Or sick for that matter.)
The monk began, “Dr. Ziegler, I-” but Angela held up a finger to stop him.
“Zenyatta. Please. I will be fine. It is just a minor cough. Besides, I am a trained medical professional. I think I can handle a small cough.” Angela narrowed her eyes at Zenyatta’s optical sensors.
“Be that as it may, I am worried about you.” Zenyatta stated, keeping eye/optical sensor contact.
What ensued was the most awkward silent staring contest Angela had ever been a part of. Zenyatta could not blink, but even with that practical knowledge in the back of her head, Angela felt she couldn’t back down and could not be the first to blink or look away.
Zenyatta slowly floated closer to her and she slowly leaned down to get her face on his level as they continued to stare at each other. He smelled heavily of the incense he burned as he meditated (could he even smell?). Angela felt a sneeze forming.
“And I am only trying to –“ Angela started before her nose decided it had enough.
And that was how she ended up accidentally sneezing on Zenyatta’s face.
Horrified, Angela bolted down the hallway with an “Oh! I’m so sorry! Let me go get something to clean you! Stay right there!”
Zenyatta just floated there for a few seconds before remarking, “This is unpleasant.”