#poly roadrat

I’d like to take a moment to apologize to the first anon. I told myself that I’d get this done in under two weeks, and we have past that a few times over. Heh heh…..

So, anon, if you’re out there, I am small and forgetful and love you! Please forgive.

————-

You were making a difference.

…At least you hoped you were.

Being an office worker was not ideal, but neither was field work really. The only reason you agreed to do this job was because it had, “Overwatch,” branded all over it. In a dedicated organization like that, especially as small as it was, every job was important. Plus, someone had to watch over your boys.

You stretch your back. Geez, this whole week was nothing but reports and papers and meetings and then more reports. Not to mention, the Junkers over-the-top way of doing missions, was not helping. It seemed they didn’t realize, or more likely, didn’t care that destruction leads to paperwork. Paperwork that lands on your shoulders.

At this point, you could practically feel the bags under your eyes, and a coil in your back. It was hard to believe that anyone could spend all day everyday sitting on an uncomfortable chair, staring at a screen.

Whatever, you were almost done typing up this mission statement, then you were home free!

Oh, what’s that? An email with instructions to handle the legal works of the last two missions? Therefore elongating your workday and preventing you from leaving early?

Oh boy.

You were making a difference. Please be making a difference.

___________

“An’ then it falls!” Jamison watched eagerly as another piece is taken off of the tower and placed on top. He frowns at it stability.

“Your turn.” Mako points at you. You shift forward looking it over before settling on a holographic piece and sliding it out.

“Aaaaaannnnnnndddddd…..” He taps his fingers against the table.

“Read em’ and weep, James.” You lean back, glancing past the Jenga tower you had downloaded earlier that week. You cross your arms and let your head lay against the back of the couch. God, your neck was killing you.

“-urn.”

“What?” You realize that you had been resting your eyes, leading you to zone out.

“I said, ‘it’s your turn.’” Junkrat sets his head in his hand. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah. Tired, sore, y'know, the same old same old.” You take out a piece.

“Maybe we should go to bed soon then.” Roadhog suggests, checking the time.

“Nah, being able to relax like this is more helpful honestly.” You reach above your head in a stretch, back cracking in the process. “I’m fine with sleeping normal time.”

You roll you shoulder and wince at the sudden jolt of pain. A string of curses catches your attention and you turn to see a pile of blocks and a defeated man.

“Jenga!” You shout to mock the smaller man. He glares back at you and huffs. You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, I was just kidding!”

He pauses, noting the stiffness in your movements. He puts on a nasty grin, wiggling his fingers. “Oh, what’s that? Ya askin’ for massage are ya!” He stands quickly, startling you.

“Hey! No! Stay back!” You push closer to Roadhog and he raps his arms around you, trapping you. “Traitor!” You gasp, wiggling in attempt to break free.

“You’re not escaping this time.” He rumbles from behind you.

“You’re gonna get a massage an’ like it!” Jamison half jokes, half boasts.

“I refuse! I refuse!” You laugh, backing as far away from him as physically possible.

His hands land on you shoulders with the most evil chuckle he could muster. He works your muscles as you fake struggle, just to make things harder on him.

The night ends with you passing out, mid massage, face first in your bed.