Could you write about Tracer trying to flirt with a gender neutral reader at a pub with really cheesy British slang?
A/N: 1300 words, these things are getting longer. I’m not British, so let’s hope I used their slang correctly. I’m assuming Tracer has a smaller accelerator she can wear when not in combat, otherwise it’d be rather difficult to have a normal day out. Threw the orange pants and crocs into that too, it’s hardly the best outfit when you’re looking for a fun evening. I mean, she can’t really wear her adventuring outfit every single day, right? (She could, and probably does, style is clearly not her strongest trait.)
Your eyes were focused on the small screen in the corner of the pub, the bright lights of the newscast contrasting with the dim lighting you’d become accustomed to. Another report about vigilante work being done in London, not that you particularly minded one way or the other. If someone wanted to help deal with any crime, all the power to them, it certainly took bravery to try and keep people safe. Taking a swig of your oak colored beverage, you gave the pub a quick once over. The usual crowd was more or less accounted for, from salary-men to construction workers, everyone was equal once alcohol was thrown into the equation. You reached to take another drink, only to realize that your last swig had emptied the glass. Sighing gently, you reached up to flag down the bartender, only to see him standing before you.
“This one’s on her.” He nodded towards your right, replacing your empty glass with a fresh beer. You clutched the drink in your hand, turning to face your mysterious benefactor. A woman sat several stools down from you, her brown hair styled into several windswept spikes. She wore a brown leather bomber jacket, various patches ironed onto the weather material. A simple white t-shirt peaked out from the jacket, with a strange device prominently layered over it. The device wasn’t terribly large, able to be mostly concealed by the jacket, though it protruded a small amount from her chest.
You smiled appreciatively, raising your glass to show her your thanks. The woman wore a huge smile, practically leaping from her seat as she sauntered towards you. Your eyes wandered for an instant as she neared, taking in the tight pair of torn jeans she wore, a pair of white canvas shoes completing the ensemble. Your gaze quickly returned to her face as she sat down beside you, taking in the small freckles that dotted her cheeks. Though all of her traits, even her hazel eyes, paled in comparison to her beaming smile. Her cheerful grin seemed to brighten the room, even more so than the television in the opposite corner of the pub. It took you an instant for you to register that she had come to sit beside you. You supposed you were supposed to begin the conversation, since she had bought you a drink.
“Uh. Thanks for the drink!” You stammered, inwardly cursing at how nervous your thanks must’ve seemed to her. “I’m (Y/N).” You extended a hand to her, hoping that getting her talking would make the conversation seem a little smoother. She giggled, shaking your hand gently, her smile never fading. That was good, at least, you hoped it was.
“Lena, charmed.” Her eyes seemed to give you a quick once-over, focusing back into your own, apparently pleased at what they gathered. “So, what brings someone like you to a place like this?” To a place like this? The pub didn’t seem terribly run-down or anything, the rustic interior was rather cozy, there were certainly worse places to drink.
“Just seemed like a good place to grab a drink, maybe meet some people.” You smiled, suppressing your confusion at her question. Did the bar have some sort of reputation you weren’t aware of?
“Oh? And what sort of people were you hoping to meet here?” It hit you like a freight train. The way her eyes occasionally darted across your body, the playful smirk, the subtle shifts in her body language to move just a few centimeters closer. She was flirting with you, plain as day. But her? With you? I mean, you certainly weren’t bad looking, at least, you hoped you weren’t. But someone as cute as her fawning over you? It seemed inconceivable, yet her she was, buying you a drink at a pub to get closer. “Luv?” You realized how long you’d been staring in silence at her, a small hint of redness tinging your cheeks due to both your embarrassment, and the endearing phrase she used.
“Sorry, just lost in thought for a second.” You chuckled, hoping to relieve some of the embarrassment you felt, focusing back onto Lena. “Looking for some lovely company, and I figured I’d run into someone interesting eventually.”
“Well, it’s lucky that you ran into me then. I’ve got quite a few stories I could tell, if you’ve got the time?” You nodded, taking another swig of your beer, flagging down the bartender so that Lena could order something. She regaled you for hours with stories of her escapades, her narrow bouts with criminals, her adventures across the world. By the time she finally finished, the bar had mostly cleared out, though it felt like only a moment had passed. “And that was the last time McCree ever rode on a horse!” You each howled with laughter, nearly knocking over the assortment of glasses you had gathered on the bar.
Lena had told you a great deal about herself. It seemed she was the vigilante that was always on the news, stopping whatever crime she could. The term vigilante had such a negative connotation to it, but Lena used a much more positive term, hero. It felt strange calling someone a hero, but after all the frankly heroic deeds she entertained you with, it was hard not to. You had to admit, she was lovely company, anyone who could make time speed by like that was someone worth knowing. The bartender waved at you, indicating that the pub would be closing shortly, the evening had turned into the dead of night during your time with Lena.
“Well, it’s getting rather late, Lena. I’d love to do this again some time, if you’re interested?” You questioned, hoping to get to spend more time with the lovely woman soon.
“Of course I am! Give me your number, I’ll ring you up!” A thought perked up in the back of your mind, why had Lena decided to drink with you out of all the others in the bar? Writing down your number on a napkin, you ran through the options of why she’d find you so compelling, settling on just asking her yourself.
“Just one more thing.” You held the napkin between the two of you, using it as leverage for your question. “Why did you buy me a drink?” Her eyes darted away from you for a moment, a small hint of redness splashing her cheeks as she averted her gaze.
“I just thought you looked rather lush, y’know? And I figured it couldn’t hurt to chat you up a little bit. I’d say it went pretty well, wouldn’t you?” She leaned in close to you, placing her lips beside your ears. “Besides, you managed to get me in a little bit randy mood tonight.” You felt your cheeks flush red as her breath caressed your face, watching her pull away slightly. “As smashing as you are, I doubt you’ll have to work much harder for that, if you’re up for it.” She winked suggestively, placing a quick kiss on your lips, before hopping out of the stool. “Seeya, luv.”
“Yeah… See you…” You stared at her as Lena walked away, playfully swaying her hips as she disappeared out the door. Running a hand down your face, your dropped several bills on the counter, leaving an ample tip for the bartender. You hadn’t expected to run into someone so lovely this evening, but you were hardly complaining. Your phone buzzed as you entered the narrow streets of King’s Row, an unknown number leaving you a single message. You smiled as you read it, creating a new contact in your phone.
What do you say we skip the pub tomorrow, luv?