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Reinhardt was not one for parties that required him to dress formally, tie and all. He hated the shoes, the jacket that barely let him move, the shirt. All of it.
He would not have missed this particular one for all the currywurst in the world, though.
The mission had come in short notice; they had received intel of a possible kidnapping in a VIP reception taking place in a luxurious hotel in the center of London. It was the sort of event to which Jack was usually invited to alongside to many heads of state and other personalities-- the kind of even he always declined to attend.
The building was a massive complex of 30+ floors, nothing Blackwatch’s reduced number of operatives could deal on their own. However, Overwatch could not just invade the place.
On the one hand, they wanted to catch the Talon operatives. On the other hand, having a lot of soldiers there alongside the security people of the building would most likely end in a shooting.
The plan was simple, Gabriel and Jesse would stay in the shadows managing their team while somebody in the party would give them pointers. And who had a keener eye than Ana? That posed a slight problem, however. She was more than capable to keep herself away from enemy fire but, without a date, she would be pestered non-stop all night.
Reinhardt pulled at the knot of his tie, then smirked. There will be no pestering with him by her side. Of course, Gabriel would have chosen Jack to be Ana’s date, but he was on the other side of the world attending a UN conference.
Such a pity.
It had been a long time since Reinhardt had attended an event like this one, probably since the end of the Crisis years ago. Most men around were sporting three-piece tuxedos, but thankfully he was allowed to wear Overwatch’s dark-blue gala uniform.
He hated it, but he would have hated a tuxedo much more.
It was a tradition (apparently) to wait for their dates at the bottom of a staircase decorated with brass-leaden railings and colorful and enormous flowers, so there he was, waiting alongside the rest of the men. It was ridiculous to showcase women as if they were prices for sale --yet another reason to despise this kind of parties-- but there was not much he could do about it.
Several guys stopped by to exchange pleasantries, recognizing him from the posters and advertisement campaigns to join Overwatch; none looked like a kidnapper or a terrorist. Not did anyone else in the room, for that matter.
After a boring while, the bronze door presiding the staircase finally opened up; the ladies came out one by one, all wearing long night dresses and jewelry that sparkled under the strategically placed lights. Jeez. Such amount of diamonds, gold, and platinum could feed a couple of countries for a month.
As more and more ladies reached the hall and reunited with their dates, husbands, or companions, the room filled with talk and polite laughs. The crowd began retreating from the staircase and moving into the hall, where they were supposed to have dinner, but Ana was nowhere to be seen.
“Not to rush you, but is everything alright there?” Reinhardt whispered to no-one in particular, folding his arms behind his back.
“Ran into some trouble,” Ana’s voice seeped displeasure. “Be there in two.”
And there she was indeed, wearing a long night dress that showed her naked shoulders. Her dark hair was collected in a high hair-do from which several strands scaped playfully, and her legs… oh boy. He was having a hard time taking his eye off the high leg split that showed up to her thigh. Or from the curve of her neck. Or her cleavage.
It was not until she got closer that he noticed her bracelets combined with her earrings and eyeshadow; the golden tones broke the sobriety of her attire and enhanced her beauty, if that was possible.
She was but an Egyptian queen gracing them with her presence.
One that was not exactly pleased.
“This is humiliating,” she grunted the moment she stopped by his side. “And it was even worse with the heels. Good riddance.”
She was wearing sandals tied all around her calf, but there was no sign of-- oh. Ana held on to his arm for balance and raised one of her feet to show the uneven sole of the sandals. There had been something there before. The heel, most likely.
Yet that did not keep the attention of Reinhardt’s eye for long. As she moved, and due to his height, he had a very good view of her cleavage and the strapless bra. It was so simple and so similar to her skin tone that it almost looked like she was wearing none at all.
Ana’s body was not exactly soft; martial arts, the gym, and their dangerous job had toned her muscles and given her a bunch of scars, but that did not make her less perfect; she was beautiful beyond words.
Reinhardt could stand there admiring her boobs for the rest of his life, but Ana would straight kill him if she noticed. Besides, it was not a very gentlemanly thing to do-- but he was not made of stone.
Nor were the wide-eyed slobbering men ogling her.
He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders gently; It was so big on her it looked like a second dress, covering her exposed back, her shoulders, and most of the neckline.
Then, he looked around with a smirk.
Screw you, losers .
“Marking your territory? How so romantic,” Gabriel snickered on the comms, and Ana spun around to look at Reinhardt, an eyebrow up but holding the jacket firmly around her.
The room became an oven all of sudden. Reinhardt chuckled and ran a hand over his graying hair. The bloody tie was strangling him, but that was going to be a joke if Ana realized why he had offered her the jacket.
“I just thought you would appreciate it, Captain,” he made a slight reverence to hide from her all-knowing gaze, and his shirt cracked ominously as it tightened around his muscles.
Fucking fancy clothes.
“I do,” Ana squeezed his arm. “It won't make our job any easier, though.”
“Well, the idea was that you’d go unnoticed while Reinhardt got all the attention,” Gabriel continued. “But I kind of agree with his judgement for once; you’re a bloody snack, what were you thinking?”
“Tell Jack to sack Gérard . His team insisted ,” she closed her arms under the jacket, leaning towards Reinhardt as she talked; they were so close that he could feel her warmth. When Ana squeezed his arm again his first impulse was to hug the air out of her, but her golden eyes stopped him in his tracks. “Let us be on our way, yeah?”
“Lead the way, Captain.”
Their now unusual attire draw the attention of their fellows as the pair retreated to the hall, but Reinhardt paid them no mind. It was good to see their faces; except the old married couple from Brazil, most of the men were middle-aged. The ladies, on the other hand, were on the young side.
The fact that Ana, who was at least ten years their elder, eclipsed their beauty even with his jacket on, made him grin.
“You are in a good mood despite the tie, Lieutenant,” she commented on their way to their table, walking very close to him, her hand on his forearm.
“I’d burn it if I could. But the company makes up for it tenfold.”
There was a moment of silence during which their gazes crossed. Then, she reached out to fix her hair just to find nothing over her shoulders.
“Always the flatterer.”
“Ah, don’t say that. I never lie!”
“Unless there’s food involved,” she raised an eyebrow. It made him laugh.
“Not my fault Gabriel is a pig that cannot keep his hands to himself!”
There was a snort in the comms that proved beyond doubt that the Commander accepted the guilty verdict, but Reinhardt did not savour his victory. Instead, he quickened his pace to reach their table before Ana could and pulled the chair for her.
All the tables were for two! He could not believe his luck. It was a date. A freaking date in one of the most luxurious places on the planet. To be honest, Reinhardt would rather take her to a place downtown from the base where they could be comfortable, but beggars could not be choosers.
Right. I can do this . Take care of the mission, then ask her out. Easy piece.
She seemed torn deciding whether to take the jacket off while sitting down but, finally, she sat down hugging it close so it would not slip from her shoulders. Her little smile made Reinhardt take a deep breath with satisfaction, which in turn made the goddamned shirt creak again.
Whatever. This was going to be the best mission ever.
Dinner was a sad affair. Reinhardt’s chair was too fragile for him to use it --which thankfully he realized just by taking a look at how old the wood was-- and the party managers could only find him a bench. That was not the bad part, though. Drinking anything that was not water was unthinkable since he was on duty, but food portions were ridiculous even for a regular-sized guy. Even worse, seconds were off the chart.
“I thought you had dinner before getting ready for the party,” Ana said after he growled for the umpteenth time when the service brought another dish to sample. Because that was exactly that, a bloody sample.
“Sure I did,” he rolled his eyes. “Four hours ago! But I thought this would work for my lighter second dinner. I don’t understand why rich people don’t know how to eat...”
“What I don’t know is how you manage to eat six or seven times a day.”
“How do you think I can maintain these, then?” He flexed his arms as much as the shirt allowed, and there were a couple of gasps coming from the tables nearby. Reinhardt remembered those ladies; they had come to meet them --well, him-- a while after management had brought his bench. He winked at Ana lazily, and she rolled her eyes.
“Alright, we’ll find a place where you can have your third dinner when we’re done.”
“I’m taking your word for it,” Reinhardt grinned. Any more time together was a yes in his book. It would also give him a cushion in case the mission went wrong and he could not complete his side quest. “It’ll be cheat day in two hours, so I’m game for anything.”
“Ah, please. Please ...” Gabriel groaned on the comms. “Ana, are you even trying to get this done? Because sure as hell doesn’t feel like it and time is ticking .”
Ana glared at her glass for a brief moment and took a deep breath. Then, she laced her fingers and leaned her chin on them.
“Fine. I sure can think of a place you will approve of-- and talking about approving, how do you like blonde women?”
Reinhardt blinked and, when he did not answer straight away, Ana kicked him under the table. Oh, the signal. They had talked about this during debriefing. There would be a moment where she would have to give Gabriel a description of their suspect, and Reinhardt would have to play along.
How had she even discovered their terrorist among so many people without talking to them was bewildering. Her superpowers would never cease to amaze him.
“I rather focus on other things, if you know what I mean…” He said quickly when Ana kicked him again. “Why? Planning to dye your hair?”
“I was wondering for a friend, silly. She’s your typical American girl, and she loves dressing in baby blue-- she’s just too shy to ask you out.”
“So, she’s like Jack but with boobs.”
Ana snorted, an amused glint lighting her eyes.
“Yeah. She also has long, long hair over her shoulders,” she continued, making a gesture towards her long, deliciously exposed neck.
The stuff of heavens.
“Meh. I cannot be less interested in your friend, to be honest...”
“Don’t tell me. You like your women dark and bitter, just like you like your beer,” Gabriel’s voice was dripping with smugness, and Reinhardt had to bite inside his cheek to stop himself from guffawing. But he was laughing to keep from crying. Damned be his jacket; covering Ana was a bloody shame.
“I think I’ve got a good picture of the suspect, though,” the Commander continued. “She’s sharing table with an octogenarian-- Belgium’s PM, I think. But him being the target would be too easy. Keep your eyes open.”
Ana took a bite of her duck breast in this or that sauce, and sighed.
“You know, my friend will be disappointed.”
“ Ja , a real pity. But I’m not in the market right now.“
Not for blonde Americans, at least.
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow that was absolutely Ana, as opposed to the fake that was trying to hook him with her friend. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
‘Hey,” he frowned-- although, to be honest, he always had something half-serious going on that ended in nothing after some months, probably because it was not that serious to begin with. “I’m committed to my job, now. In all seriousness.”
“You mean to the gym.”
“That, too.”
“Pity. I was going to propose we get early to the ball so we could, you know, practice before you could meet her...”
Reinhardt swallowed nervously. With a decent amount of alcohol in his veins he could stop thinking that he was like an elephant on a porcelain shop and move to the rhythm, but sober? Bloody hell. He would be nothing but the laughing stock.
And that was the last he wanted on their almost-perfect night alone.
“Not to rain on your parade, but we’re going to stir things up a bit,” the Commander seemed to be in high spirits. “Don’t engage until I say so, understood?”
“All right, all right. It’s fine. I’ll tell her to look somewhere else,” she relaxed on her chair and patted the jacked over her collarbones softly, trying to smooth away some creases.
As if Gabriel had pressed the trouble button, a couple of men dressed in black made their way to the hall. They were the stereotypical guys working in security, sensor-filled sunglasses and all, not making any effort to conceal the firearms on their belts.
A moment later, another two guards popped in the hall coming from the opposite direction, and probably there were a bunch more in the upper level, out of his sight.
They were supposed to be on their side, but if Reinhardt had learned something after so many years of service it was that armed people were magnets for trouble; a misread gesture could cause a bloodbath.
Besides, if he had to hide in plain sight while being armed, what was a better disguise than that of a security guard? No, he did not trust those guys. Not at all. He would rather punch their lights out than let them roam free among the civilians.
“Lieutenant,” Ana’s voice made him focus on her again. She looked serious. Too much. “I know that look in your face.”
“What look?”
“The one which says you’re thinking of starting a brawl.”
He chuckled; her mind-reading was scary .
“Just say a word and I’ll take them all on!”
Ana closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.
“There’ll be no fighting,” she whispered. “We talked about this, remember?”
Sure they did. Blackwatch’s intel suggested a kidnapper --the girl Ana had located with her superpowers-- but she would not be working alone. If the security people started shooting at the same time Talon did it was almost with certainty that someone will end up dead.
Their best chance was to neutralize the kidnapper before she could try anything, but Reinhardt’s memory was fuzzy about how they were going to achieve that. It was hardly his fault, though. Gabriel’s insistence on hosting never-ending meetings of 10+ minutes was a pain in the arse. Even more when it was almost dinner time.
“Worry not. I’ll follow your lead.”
That did not seem to be the answer Ana was waiting for, because her eyes turned into slits. However, she said nothing and just emptied her glass of water in one go. Again.
Maybe he was supposed to remember something important. Or perhaps she wanted to go that ball. Now that he thought of it, he seemed to recall part of the plan was about getting people closer together. The ball seemed to be the right choice, then.
Reinhardt made a face; he truly had no love for dancing, but he would take one for the team. And for Ana. It would also be romantic; and what was best to check the waters?
All right. Slow-dancing is a piece of cake. I can do this.
He got up, a nervous grin on his face.
“Would you dance with me, Captain?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” The Commander barked on their comms, and Reinhardt just rubbed the ear where he was wearing his comms device and turned the volume down. “Didn’t I say stand down for now?”
Their table soon became the spotlight, and Ana blanched slightly when he extended a hand to her-- yet, she did not yell or glare at him. Good. Someone whistled when she got up and took his hand, but Reinhardt barely registered the moment of self-awareness as they walked together to the dance floor.
“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” She asked once they reached their destination. There was no proper music yet, just that soft melody that had been playing in the background while they dined.
“I know that I’m having a great time, and that I couldn’t ask for a better company to kick-- I mean, to dance.”
Ana looked a moment away from sighing in despair, but she chuckled. It was not a happy sound, but it was far from being irritated. Her small hands found him; one stopped on his arm while the other ghosted over his hand for a moment.
“I thought you didn’t like to,” she said at last, lacing her fingers with his. Her touch was like lightning and, for a moment, he was paralyzed. Ana pulled at him softly, guiding him to take a step towards her, and Reinhardt found himself following her lead.
As usual.
“Only when blonde Americans are involved,” he managed to say after a moment. He could hear Gabriel mumbling something, but it was low enough that he could not make his words. Good. He would not forgive the Commander in a million years if he interrupted them.
“You know,” she continued after a moment of silence, “the idea was to get somewhere up, like… one of those theatre-like boxes up there on the balcony.”
“Oh. Well, we could always get there--”
"Shh, this it's actually nice. It may even work," she said as they danced slowly. "Have quite the view from here."
Ana’s half-smile caught him by surprise, and he could not help himself.
“Awww thank you, Captain…”
“You silly,” she smacked his arm and laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “egocentric, childish idiot .”
It was ages since he had seen Ana smile like this, probably since Fareeha turned sixteen and they argued about her future in the military. He was glad she was enjoying herself for once-- and he was even more glad he could make her have fun.
Gabriel buzzed in his ear like an angry bee, and Reinhardt did his best to ignore him. He, and everyone else that had gathered at the dance floor and were slow-dancing too. When did they make it there? He must have been absorbed trying not to look like an enormous fool.
“It’s been a good night, you know,” Ana said after a while. “Thanks.”
“Ah, my pleasure,” Reinhard had to restrain himself from squeezing her against his chest, and laughed. She looked adorable and small with his jacket overflowing her, and the fact that she had not parted with it made him all warm inside. Or perhaps that was her hands holding on to him. “I’m even starting to like dancing.”
Ana gifted him with another smile but remained silent otherwise, guiding him when they should turn to follow the music. It suited Reinhardt just fine. With a grin splitting his face, he could not be happier.
He had been trying to ask Ana out for months, but it had never felt like the right time; either the weather was wrong, she was too busy, the super-soldiers were in trouble, the world was in flames… To be honest, he had always been scared to ask.
She was special . Not only they worked closely, but they had known each other for ages. They even were good friends… He did not want to lose any of that because of a poorly-worded question.
But after this night and how relaxed and happy she was while dancing with him, he felt as if he had nothing to lose.
“Ana?”
“Yeah?” She looked up, eyebrows arched-- she was so beautiful he almost forgot that staring was rude and that he had something very important to ask.
“I, ah… Was wondering if--”
He trailed off after someone spew a very loud curse behind his back; they had bumped into another couple. Or better, practically run over them.
“Sorry!” Ana made an apologetic face and pulled at Reinhardt to move them out of the way. “Shit. There are more and more people, now…”
There was. Enough to make Reinhardt uncomfortably aware of how clumsy he was at dancing and how people were staring at them. And although he could reluctantly endure their snickering for the greater good, he hated dragging Ana down with him.
“It’ll be best if we go up to the balcony.”
“No need,” she shook her head. “I’ll be more careful guiding you. Now keep an eye on the security guards for me, ok?”
He grumbled something under his breath, but Ana squeezed his hand softly.
“It’ll be ok. Promise.”
Stupid dancing.
The guards provided little distraction; there were a couple more walking around, at least that Reinhardt could see. He was itching to get back to familiar territory; no suit, no formal shoes, no party. He could only hope Gabriel did whatever he needed to do quickly so he could get out of there and have proper dinner.
At least then he would be able to ask her--
Ana pulled at his tie without any warning or indication, hard. The fabric creaked and he doubled over on instinct, wheezing-- and then she kissed him.
Reinhardt’s eyes went wide for a second, but her mouth was so hungry for him that his mind went blank immediately of anything that was not her. The hand at his tie left for his neck, then for his beard, and he pulled Ana closer, hoping to scoop her and make his life easier--
That, until a hissing shot made him snap his eyes open and squeeze Ana against his body to protect her.
Shit. It had sounded really close, but not exactly like a regular gun. By their side, a blonde woman with really long hair staggered and fell to the ground with a thud.
The firearm on her hand bounced a bit farther, clacking against the tiled ground until it stopped at the foot of a gentleman. That was the cue for the commotion to start. The whispers became cries for help and loud talking when a young woman broke down in tears, shaking on her wine red dress just by the kidnapper-- the victim, most likely.
Those civilians who were closer backed off, effectively creating a ring around them. There was a lot of finger-pointing and even more nervous laughter, but barely any ill feelings. That was weird. Extremely weird during a shooting. Why were they not scrambling away?
Reinhardt looked around, trying to find any sense to what was going on, until Ana --who still was very much squeezed between his arms-- showed him what she had on her hand.
A dart pistol.
“You-- while--?” He stammered, letting her go and looking back at the kidnapper; she had two tiny sleeping darts plunged on her neck.
“I needed her to feel safe around us to take the shot,” she shrugged softly, securing the pistol on a holster wrapped around her exposed thigh. “The best way to do that, from down here, was to hide behind you.”
Unbelievable.
He had seen her do many fantastic things during their time in Overwatch, from taking impossible shots to ripping apart Omnics with her hands and a little help from her rifle. But this was wicked. Her concentration, her godly aim. Shit, she was good .
But damn, his partners had always praised his kissing skills. The fact that she was absolutely unmoved by them to the point she used the opportunity to take a good shot was a kick to the nuts.
“Aw, I didn’t mean to bruise your ego,” she smirked, but then her golden gaze turned soft and apologetic, and he-- agh. He hated her superpower of reading minds, it was truly obnoxious.
“Please, you didn’t even chip it,” he crossed his arms in a very slow, theatrical manner.. “Regardless, I got to kiss you, so it’s a win in my book.”
Perhaps not the sweetest win he could hope for, though. Perhaps he was a bit disappointed that their non-date had ended in nothing, but at least he did not make a fool of himself.
Much.
A ruckus among the nervous civilians made them look around; the security muscle ran towards them weapons in hand. Reinhardt cracked his knuckles, the prospect of punching the lights out of them lifting his spirits already. Without his armour, and provided there were numerous civilians around, the best plan of action was to wait for them to be distracted and then tackle at least a couple--
“Easy,” Ana squeezed one of his arms; a moment later there was an announcement on the building’s audio system:
“Overwatch Commander Reyes speaking. We’ve issued a lockdown on the building; stay calm while we do our job, it will be OK.”
“You heard the Commander,” Ana stepped forward and raised her voice. “Please get back to your tables and remain seated for the time being while we deal with the situation.”
“Hey! We’ll decide whether--” One of the guards oofed mid-sentence when his colleague elbowed him in the gut. The other two raised their hands in a gesture of peace and decided that herding people back to their tables was more important. Pah.
Reinhardt pulled at the knot of the tie to loosen it, then unbuttoned the collar of the shirt. Screw the formalities already; there was no need to keep pretending he was there for the party. Then, he turned the volume of his earpiece again.
“Is there any arse needing kicking, Commander? I doubt the Captain will have further need of me.”
That sounded a bit angrier than he had meant it, and Ana arched an eyebrow.
“Not even chipped it, that’s right...”
“It’s not--”
A thud on the upper floor made them look up. A moment later, Gabriel was holding a guy half out the railing of the balcony, clearly threatening with dropping him to the ground floor.
He spotted them, because he waved briefly and then yelled at the top of his lungs:
“Ana!! I swear to God that if you screw this up I’m sending you the spirit of my abuelita to haunt you!”
She flipped a bird to the Commander with such emphasis the jacket almost slid off her shoulders.
What was going on escaped Reinhardt, but he knew one thing; for all she loved Gabriel, he always managed to get the worst out of her-- and Reinhardt did not want to be close when that happened.
“I’ll see if someone needs a hand--”
He had not even taken a step when Ana reached out for him. Her grip on his shirt was laughable at best, but he turned around all the same.
“I, ah, meant what I said.” She lowered her head and closed the distance until her forehead almost touched him. “I took for granted you’d laugh it off. I’m sorry about that.”
Reinhardt rubbed the back of his neck; since usually he was the one screwing up, he was not used to getting apologies. Let alone heartfelt ones. It made him all fluff inside.
“It’s-ah… My job is to enable you, after all. Besides--” He trailed off. Besides , it was not as if he could stay angry with her for long. There was this hot magma churning inside his gut every time they talked, and it melted any hard feelings he could harbour at her. “What I mean is, if you ever need to kiss me again, don’t hesitate!”
He ended the sentence with his hands on his hips, trying hard to settle the matter once and for all. She liked him well enough, cared enough to make things right between them; there will always be tomorrow. Or the next month. Or the next year.
There was a moment of silence between them in which Ana blinked and tried to stop a smile from creeping. It was glorious to see her failing for once, laughing without a care in the world. Had he said she was the cutest in his clothes? Because she fucking was.
“What about we move our dinner plans for tomorrow and I make it up to you?”
That could be read in so many naughty ways that it brought his eyebrows to his scalp.
“Don’t need to be this scared,” Ana winced when he did not answer straight away. “I’d really like to--”
“OHMYGOD. She wants a proper D A T E!!” Gabriel yelled again, his voice seeping despair. "Do you really think she would kiss you if she didn't want a date?"
Actually yes. Reinhardt could believe that just fine coming from Ana, miss-pragmatic-solutions-win-big-time. But that would explain her reticence to--Oh boy.
There was a moment of perceived silence. Perceived because they still were in a room packed with civilians that were in different states of excitement and a kidnapper out cold sprawled on the ground. Fortunately, they seemed to be too far away from the dance floor to even notice or hear what was going on.
Ana was the first to break it, taking a deep breath and clearing her throat.
“I'm getting on the balcony now to kill Gabriel,” she said at last, eyes made slits. “You’re welcome to join me.”
“But as in a date!!” The Commander shouted again, and threw something at them.
A boot. Gabriel had thrown a boot at them. Not a standard-issued Overwatch boot, though-- so, probably, one of the kidnapper’s accomplices. The kidnapper was, by the way, still down. The dance floor tiles shone dimly under the lights. The room was goddamn hot, and Reinhardt could have continued focusing on random things for all night because that was the only way he could keep his hopes from raising-- but then Ana grabbed his hand and squeezed it, softly, and his min went blank.
“I would like it very much if you came with me, helped me kick Gabriel’s arse, and then had dinner with me tomorrow night,” she said, grasping the lapel of the jacket with her free hand; she looked a moment away from throwing the jacket over her head to hide from the world. “As a date.”
Hell froze over. Like, literally. But just for a split second. Then, the magma on Reinhardt’s gut exploded and melted him to a puddle of bliss on the ground. He was about to say yes , but he swallowed his excitement for a moment and looked at her sideways.
“You know…I didn’t know you could get embarrassed. You look so cute right now! ”
Ana pawed him several times as he laughed, then yelped when Reinhardt scooped her up in his arms, jacket and all. People were looking at them, but he could not care less. This was the best mission ever, dancing be damned.
“Is this a yes, Lieutenant?” She said in a low voice. Her hands found his neck, making him feel goosebumps. No way he would be able to hide his grin, now.
Reinhardt poked the unconscious kidnapper on the ground with a foot and, after checking she was still out like a candle, he squared up. If his blissed grin turned into a malicious smirk, Ana said nothing of it.
“All right. Let’s mop the floor with the Commander!!”