Note: This short story takes place a short time after the ‘Dragonslayer’ comic and before the ‘Honor and Glory’ animated short. Sappy Romance Ahead! You have been warned!

The Wohnwagen sputtered and shook as it began to crawl to a stop, hovering in place but unable to muster any more momentum forward. Brigitte Lindholm sighed, brushing aside one of her long auburn bangs as she loosened her grip on the steering wheel and let her hands slap limp onto her thighs. “That’s it. We’re bingo on fuel. Again.”

“What?” Reinhardt Wilhelm poked his head out of the bathroom with his fingers dipped into a bottle of beard grooming oil, “So soon!?” His raspy voice echoed through the caravan.

Standing at over seven feet and appearing entirely too large for such a cramped space, the white-haired giant was always a welcome sight to her. Brigitte had known him since she was little and knew that for all his strength and size- he was the kindest and sweetest man that ever lived… he always endured these claustrophobic quarters without complaint and she had to admit that the sight of him hunched over with his beard half-oiled was amusing in a mischievous way.

“Afraid so.” The younger woman sat back in the driver’s seat with an exasperated smile, looking over her shoulder at him, “You know the villagers didn’t have much to offer after the dragons came through.”

“Aahhh, well... they did their best.” The crusader closed his eyes with a grandfatherly nod. The Ironclad engineer looked at him with a hint of pity and… admiration. Even after everything he risked and put up with for their sake, Reinhardt was still absolving them. ‘To see justice done is its own reward’ he said to her… The old lion deserved better. His tank top left exposed the bandages from his last battle and wounds both new and old. Despite his age, the crusader hadn’t slowed down a bit, taking every hit in stride. She’d seen the old holovids- of his flowing blonde hair and unmarred face. She’s known him when he was still in Overwatch. Through it all, that winning smile never failed... and he still had the physique and broad shoulders of his youth, a titanic muscular and the height of a giant. Brigitte always felt a longing that she had missed the heyday of Overwatch. Everyone had grown up hearing about the stories of them, of how they saved the world. But she knew those heroes- she was standing in the presence of one right now.

And yet it was something that was never going to come back- the world said it didn’t need those heroes anymore. When she learned that he was being forced out, Brigitte was at first relieved. She would be able to spend more time with her godfather, who was always there for her… more than even her own parents had been. When her papa went off on his own crusade for redemption (or just plain revenge against the omnics) her mother didn’t know how to handle it. None of them did… but Reinhardt never ceased to smile- and make her smile in turn. He was her rock; the calm at the center of the storm.

When Reinhardt’s forced retirement came to pass, she’d never seen him so lost before. Fighting for justice was his life’s work. Thinking about it, she’d never really saw him with a woman before.. Honor was his wife and love- Chivalry his wedding vows. Denied his duty, the crusader retreated from the world he once knew and began to search for a new purpose, doing good wherever good needed doing.

She alone would follow him. In becoming his squire, Brigitte felt like she was keeping something precious alive. Something he didn’t even appreciate in himself. A lion’s spirit still burned in that scarred and aging exterior.

Rumors were abound of Overwatch coming back- even papa talked about it. Yet the thought that Reinhardt might go back to them after they tossed him out… it made a pit in her stomach that sucked at her very being. She hoped her fears weren’t true- she prayed that he wasn’t just looking for a chance to go out in a blaze of glory. The old fool…

That’s why she was with him. Reinhardt was the very model of a chivalrous knight, charging headlong into insurmountable odds for a good cause. Ever since she was little, Brigitte worshiped him… his courage and gallantry were so inspiring but now that she was older, the woman couldn’t help but think those same honorable qualities would get him killed. Brigitte got up out of her chair, taking a moment to think before she shrugged and raised her voice so that he could hear her clearly, “Well… we can’t be too far from civilization.”

“I know exactly where we are.” The older man replied, stroking his beard with one hand and flipping open the venetian blinds with other. He peered out into the verdant rolling hills outside and a pensive growl rumbled from the back of his throat, “About ten miles south of Eichenwalde, ja?”

She nodded, looking down at the map on her phone, “That’s a ghost town though… I was hoping we’d make it to Stuttgart before we ran out of fuel but-”

“I know what it is.” The old lion softly muttered, “Let’s go. Maybe there’s… some fuel we can siphon from the ruins, hm?”

It was the only plan they had. Brigitte let her hands fall down to her thighs, “Sure.” She answered with a smile, just glad to be able to stretch their legs. She started to pack up their bags for a hike as Reinhardt went to retrieve his boots.

As they walked side by side through the sweeping fields outside Eichenwald, past the old husks of long inactive omnics, she realized with a chuckle that they really did make an odd pair. He took on the duty of towing the Wohnwagen the whole way there, dragging it over the sweeping grasslands with nary a complaint. Sure, it was lighter with the hoverpads but he was still pulling a mobile home with nothing but his own strength and some rope.

She offered to take on the burden, but he wouldn’t have it. Brigitte Lindholm wasn’t a weakling by any stretch of the imagination, with lithe muscles and a tanned complexion, biceps that would put to shame most men much less most women. She was an Ironclad engineer and the squire to none other than Reinhardt Wilhelm, the last crusader… Next to that crusader, however? She was practically the model of waifish femininity. Reinhardt could make anyone look delicate. Brigitte wore a black sleeveless top and fingerless gloves with red trousers and heavy boots ideal for these sorts of ‘adventures’- long treks just to maintain a modicum of comfort, much less survival.

It wasn’t the most glorious life- she was sure Reinhardt was frustrated with it at times, but taking care of the old lion was worth the spartan accommodations that his lifestyle demanded. There wasn’t always adventure to be had… but the times were good and he never failed to make her smile.

At this casual pace, she estimated they’d get there by the afternoon. Brigitte was sure that Reinhardt would be eager to keep marching on when they got there but if she inherited anything from her papa, it was a vehement aversion for any sort of cardiovascular exercise. With his stubby little legs, Torbjörn Lindholm at least had an excuse…

By the time they got to Eichenwald proper, her feet were aching and sore and begging her for relief. Brigitte could only imagine how Reinhardt must have felt lugging around the whole RV ten miles. She couldn’t take a break while he was still carrying on without complaint. The man’s enthusiasm certainly was infectious, she had to admit…

Eichenwald was a lonely place in the process of being reclaimed by nature, moss and other flora crawling up and over both architecture and omnic husk alike. She could see in Reinhardt’s face the memories of the Crisis coming back in waves...

Brigitte finally persuaded him to sit down while she went scrounging up for some fuel with a battery and some cables. It wasn’t quite like siphoning gas back in the day, though Brigitte had to admit a certain weakness for the way old combustion engines hummed and roared… she liked the grease and the noise. With nearly every manufacturer going electric after the turn of the century, all there was to it was to find a few cars with some juice still left in them and to siphon it into the battery. She really didn’t want to mess around with any of the omnics’ power supply, as efficient as they were. Even if they were decades old and seemingly inert, just a little bit of jostling could rouse those particularly vicious Bastion units.

By the time she had returned to the Wohnwagen, the sun had slipped underneath the silhouette of the castle looming over the town, casting long shadows over the lonely streets and altogether making the whole place look darker than it ought to have been. Eichenwalde was so… quiet. A ghost town in every sense of the word.

She didn’t see her knight anywhere when she returned so the young woman assumed that he must have gone back inside to rest. Good. Finally! Brigitte set up the battery and charger outside and poked her head in the RV to see the old lion sitting there thumbing an old coin… an Overwatch coin. He had a rather somber look on his face before he noticed her standing there. He quickly pocketed the token and put on a warm smile to greet her, immediately repressing whatever was troubling him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, furrowing her brow and tilting her head just slightly to the side. She kept her eyes locked on him.

“There… was a message from Winston.” The retired crusader answered, his grizzled voice low and wistful, “A recall. -from Overwatch.”

Brigitte blinked apprehensively. Overwatch!? He wasn’t seriously considering it, was he? After everything that had happened? “No.” She murmured, shaking her head. He distractedly looked up to the sound of her voice.

“You don’t owe them anything.” She protested, slinking into the seat beside him and putting her hand over his own. How tiny it seemed put next to his own thick fingers! She could sense the anguish in his heart- it was something she had not seen in years… and never wished to see again.

“I know you feel like you have to… answer the call or whatever it is but you- you’ve done all that before! You helped save… you saved the world during the Omnic crisis. You saved my father’s life- you saved my life...”

“Brigitte, I-” Reinhardt started to speak but words had failed him.

“You gave them everything and you deserved better than to be pushed out... Really, you deserve better than to be roaming the countryside in an RV with no one but me for company.” She shook her head and sighed, “You deserve better than what you do to yourself.”

“Nonsense, I am glad to have you by my side.” The man said with a sweet and genuine smile.

“What I mean is-” She continued with a shake of her head, “They’re just going to use you again. -and you’ll let them! You gave your life for them and all they did was abandon you…”

“I’d gladly do it again.” He asserted with a solemn nod.

“I know, believe me, I know.” She laughed at herself, laughed at her own helplessness. She was the one following him. If he was a fool, what did that make her? “It’s just- I don’t want the rest of your life to be spent charging into battle for one last glorious stand. It’s bad enough with thugs like the dragons- but… this recall means trouble.” Brigitte turned towards him, raising her hand up to his cheek, feeling his warm skin and his bristled beard whiskers folding under her palm, “You’re a hero. They should be throwing parades for you, not calling you back.” The woman looked away, softly whispering, “...I don’t want to lose you.”

The crusader looked away from her, his one good eye drifting away from her pleadful gaze. Either he didn’t hear her last plea or he didn’t want to hear it. “Aah, I’m just an old man. There’s nothing left for me but-”

“Don’t.” Brigitte stressed, reaching up with her other hand to his cheek and cupping his head, “You have… you have me, don’t you?”

He nodded solemnly and a long silence stretched between them.

On an impulse, or out of some misguided attempt to persuade him, the younger woman leaned up and kissed him. Her heart skipped a beat. After the surprise had worn off, he returned her affections, wrapping his lips around her own and pushing her back… but their lips soon parted and the old man asked, “Brigitte?”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. -or do…. It’s just that you’re always thinking about somebody else, Reinhardt. Never yourself! A-and and I don’t want you to do the same thing with me either! Reinhardt, I-”

He leaned in and kissed her back, more deeply, caressing her cheek with one of his massive hands before drawing away, “You’re beautiful. I just had the urge to kiss you.” Then he smiled and remarked, “I never knew you felt this way.”

She softly laughed and shook her head, brushing aside her hair, “Neither did I.”

Brigitte cradled his fingers in both of her hands, “You’ve always been there for me… Always. But… someone has to look after you. I just didn’t know how.”

“I don’t appreciate you enough, Brigi.”

“Stop it!” She bitterly laughed, “You’re always doing this. Beating up on yourself like this. Can’t you… let someone else appreciate you? Trust me...”

The old lion looked at her curiously, furrowing his brow until she scooted over closer towards him on the bench and kissed him for a third time, a longer time. She felt her heart pounding like it was outside of her chest. To be kissing this man… it was so surreal but it felt like this was… this was good- this was right. Brigitte grew emboldened, passing her tongue between their lips and rolling it around his own. She had always wanted a man like Reinhardt- never did she think she could be with the man himself.

She pulled away and planted her kisses beneath his mane-like beard and onto his throat, eliciting a rumbling sigh that vibrated against her lips. The squire looked over at his shoulders and the bandages over it- the scars on his biceps and… well, everywhere else. She had caught him without his shirt before- she had seen all the battles that had worn upon his muscular physique. Every kiss was an effort to remedy that punishment, to visit upon his body the comfort and affection that he had long been denied… and long denied himself.

The younger woman pulled off his tank top, taking a moment to just… marvel at him. In the past, she never had the luxury of being able to just sit there and really look. She ran her fingers up from his hard abs to his chest, fingers gliding through the layer of body hair that was so demonstrably masculine and… virile! Now that she was there, the woman simply couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

Even in his age, he was the model of a knight and a man. Reinhardt met and exceeded every expectation she had of him… every fantasy she had? She would soon know for sure.

Nevermind that they were godfather and daughter. Nevermind the age. She was his squire, his most devoted follower…  they were both so deeply committed to one another as warriors, but still Brigitte was a woman and Reinhardt a man- how could she have anything but the deepest affections for him? To feel them finally realized and requited, it was just so intense! She wanted him… everything that was his. The young woman couldn’t keep her hands and lips off of him.

Up until this moment, there was only one thing that he had kept from her. She did not know whether her hands were guided by love or lust, but her fingers hooked beneath the hem of his trousers and briefs both. With one deep inhalation to gird herself, Brigitte revealed before her the crusader’s nakedness in all its glory. His manhood was as impressive as… well, as anything else he had to show. He was already so hard, thick veins tracing his length. Like everything else about him, it was strong and proud and… glorious.

She took his cock in her hand, feeling it for herself… Squeezing it in her fingers testingly, Brigitte felt like she gripping another one of his taut muscles, so firm and unyielding. All of his power and manliness was here in her hands. He was so hot… and she could see how sensitive he was in his pleasured sighs and concerted gaze.

The younger woman began to stroke him in earnest, staring at his face all the while, captivated with every expression of reluctant pleasure that she forced upon him. Reinhardt himself was conflicted- he loved her like his own daughter and yet she was such a woman- beautiful and strong and noble and… utterly irresistible. She could make any man forget his honor. Reinhardt was beginning to think that wouldn't be so bad... He let slip a baritone groan of pleasure, giving the woman the courage to press onwards.

She threw her head down and wrapped her lips around his head, sucking him tightly and lovingly. He was so hot and hard, Brigitte was beside herself with giddiness. Her hands stroked him with more and more enthusiasm, urging him towards her waiting mouth. As a girl she worshipped him… and she saw fit to worship him now as a woman.

The old lion craned his head back, closing his eye and inhaling deeply through his nostrils. He sighed pleasurably, unable to resist vocalizing his satisfaction. Of course he couldn’t hold out for long… in all their time together on the road, they both knew that there was no one else in either of their lives. How long it had been since Reinhardt’s gorgeous body and soul last graced some lucky woman? How long had it been since Brigitte felt so intimately joined with a man? That didn’t much matter to either of them, though. For at least this moment, they were entirely only each other's.

Brigitte’s head bobbed up and down over Reinhardt’s lap, the massive man’s every muscle tensing up as he watched a woman nearly a third his age giving him such exquisite pleasure. For her as well, she could imagine no better way to appreciate him than the way she was now.

“Brigi, I’m…” He wanted to say that he was her godfather… but when she looked up at him, with his manhood half hidden within her soft mouth and her amber eyes so sweetly locked in an expression of awe for her master, he had forgotten everything else. “Mmm?” She hummed, blinking innocently. All of his resistance melted away. Indeed, that expression of hers only heightened his shameful desire and delight. 

The silence of the inert RV in the middle of a ghost town was punctuated only by the soft sounds of sucking and kissing within that cramped space- as well as the occasional moan and baritone exhortation of pleasure.

They’d been together for a long time. Of course she knew what he was thinking… or trying to think. Reinhardt was determined not to forget his honor… and Brigitte was determined to make him forget. She didn’t want him to see her as his goddaughter- as a girl any longer. She was a woman and would make love to him like a woman. She would make him acknowledge her.

Her amber eyes turned upwards to watch his every movement and to gauge her effect upon him- she watched those chiseled abdominal muscles tighten the instant she wrapped her fingers around his base. She watched his chest rise and fall with every breath, his white brow furrow and his teeth grit in concentration.

“Brigi…” He moaned huskily, barely holding onto his senses. It was a good sign. She suddenly drew away from him, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a wet pop. How alluring it was! Covered in her spit, hard and proud and throbbing at the agony of being denied her touch.

The redhead threw off her top and unhooked her bra, letting her bountiful breasts free. She stiffened her back, begging him look- begging him to stare. The old lion looked down to witness the most mesmerizing of sights; Brigitte’s smiling face, her pert and pale breasts just behind his own cock… the more he thought about it, the less it seemed to belong to him and the more it seemed to belong to her. That suited him just fine.

She dove back in, massaging and pumping his thick manhood with both hands as she wrapped her lips tightly around his head. As her head bobbed, so too her did her breasts bounce jauntily up and down. He caught just a glimpse of it and groaned. The woman felt him approaching the peak of pleasure. His balls tightened and his cock began to convulse beneath her lips and within her fingers. Brigitte moaned, best as she could, and that sent him over the edge.

She was surprised by it at first, her amber eyes going wide as a hot torrent of cum filled her mouth, gushing onto her tongue and down her throat. It only spurred her on further and she doubled her efforts, milking him and making him forget. The man’s deep groan accompanied his orgasm and soon Brigitte permitted her mouth to open just a bit- letting a mixture of spit and cum wash over his length and over her fingers. It dribbled down her knuckles and pooled on his groin.

The engineer moaned, savoring the hot sensation flooding her mouth. Reinhardt was helpless to resist her, having given in completely to this lurid affair between godfather and daughter. She eagerly slurped him up, happy little vocalizations of pleasure escaping from her lips as spurt after hot spurt pumped into her mouth. When she finally pulled away, a little bit of his spunk was dribbling down her chin. She wiped her jaw with a coy smile and Reinhardt’s eyes widened in disbelief.

She stiffened her back and nervously laughed once she realized he was staring at her. The old lion couldn’t resist any longer, jumping back upright and cupping her bosom in his coarse and calloused hands. She softly moaned, throwing her head back and closing her eyes. He squeezed her breasts together and rubbed her nipples with his calloused thumbs, kneading the soft flesh until she let out a sharp exhalation of pleasure. She felt ashamed to receive so much affection, more so than she ever felt about swallowing his load... but he just wouldn’t relent!

Reinhardt dove forward, kissing and licking her nipples. He wrapped his lips upon her with all the enthusiasm and unbridled joy that he waded into battle with. The small booth in the corner of the living room was too much for them both. As his elbow rubbed up against the edge of the table, Reinhardt groaned in frustration and sweeped her up in his powerful arms, planting the young woman atop of the table where they usually ate. He went back to lavishing his attention upon her body, permitting no room at all for her to return the favor.

“Rein... Rein, Reinhardt!” Brigitte protested, making him stop long enough to look up at her, “You don’t have to… really, can’t you just let me take care of you?” She looked down at him with a soft chiding smile, running her fingers through his pale white hair.

The older man blinked wide-eyed and nodded, “Oh, oh. Of course. It’s just you’re so beautiful, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, for the first time actually self-conscious of her sudden nudity right in front of her mentor and idol. She wanted to cover herself but… well, Reinhardt’s powerful hands cupped her breasts and she couldn’t resist letting him admire her. She wanted him to look, to admire. “Well then…” She demurely smiled, “Go on, ser knight.”

Under his insistence, she leaned back, auburn hair flowing over the far edge of the table as he fawned over her. She reached down past his face and between her own legs, feeling his powerful cock standing at attention between her thighs. Was he already so hard again? ...or perhaps still hard. Either way, it was so close to her own sex, warm and wet and excited. She wanted him inside her.

He seemed to be of the same inclination, dragging his hands down to her trousers, tugging them off of her hips. She bent her knees for him, presenting her ass in black boyshorts to the older man towering over her. He ran his hands around the curve of her behind, marveling at her muscular thighs and womanly hips. It was a figure both distinctly strong and feminine. So fitting for her, he thought with a smile.

The crusader pulled her underwear down her thighs to the knees, leaving it there.He ran one of his strong fingers over her womanhood, wet from anticipation. She softly pouted, lamenting that he was still thinking only of her. Any other man would have drove his cock into her inviting sex then and there. Reinhardt thrust his face against her bottom, planting his mouth over her womanhood. His coarse beard tickled her behind and made her softly giggle… but his tongue made her moan.

He spread her legs and lapped at her womanly folds, tasting for himself her arousal. Brigitte reached down and ran her fingers through his mane, clutching at him hard. He kissed and gently sucked upon her clit, careful not to overstimulate the sensitive nub. Though a fierce warrior, he proved to be the most considerate of lovers. Of course he was. She was getting frustrated with all of his chivalry! It made it so difficult for her to give everything she had for him.

“Rein…” Brigitte protested, sweetly thumbing his hair, “Reinhardt, don’t you want me?”

He pulled her knees to the side, looking over her hip, “Of course.”

“Then take me!” She exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table and making it rattle, “I’m yours, so… give it to me!”

Hearing herself speak so wantonly out loud made Brigitte bite her lip.

The old lion nodded and braced her knees on the table with one hand and her hip with the other. So small she looked compared to him, even with all her muscle! She was ready for him, sighing with relief as she felt that throbbing cock testing her womanhood. With her thighs so tight together, she forego her own pleasure for his. That was just fine for Brigitte. In one forceful thrust, the older man pushed his manhood all the way to the hilt, filling her so thoroughly! He groaned and it was both so painful and so pleasurable! She happily grimaced.

Brigitte was tough though. Her lover knew as much… and when she begged him to give it to her, give it to her he did. He pulled his hips back and thrust forward again, the weight of his whole figure nearly jostling her off the table. She moaned throatily, tensing her knees and abs every time the older man’s thick cock disappeared within her.

He moved from her knees and to her hip, holding her in place with both hands as he began to fuck her harder and harder. As they sighed and moaned together in pleasure, a mug fell off the edge of the rattling table onto the seat and then upon the floor below. Reinhardt spared only one moment to give it any attention, but she didn’t much care about it at all, reaching up and gently guiding his face back to look her.

The RV was filled with the sounds of their voices and the commotion of their love-making. Sweat began to run down the old lion’s brow and he grunted bestially with pleasure. She reached down and gripped one of her cheeks hard, attempting to pull him in to better receive his thick cock.

Reinhardt groaned as he urged himself with more and more boundless enthusiasm. Forgetting himself in the passion of the moment, he charged into her with all the strength and reckless abandon that he brought to the battlefield. He pulled her closer with every thrust, beads of sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. It… hurt. He was big. Bigger perhaps than even he realized. Brigette winced, relishing in the exquisite pain of being filled so thoroughly by her man.

She thought perhaps he was finally giving in to the pleasure and treating himself… that, now lost in the moment, Reinhardt was even… using her -and it felt good to be used. As her whole body rocked back and forth, her waist stabilized by his powerful hands, Brigitte closed her eyes and moaned. He exerted himself entirely upon her, filling her up until there was nothing between them.

The squire knew that she would be sore… she knew that if she revealed any hint of discomfort, it’d ruin everything. Still, she didn’t mind being completely at his mercy like this, her body pummeled by such a virile and gallant knight… The woman moaned deeply, so grateful to be of service to him.

Brigitte felt like she was only an instrument to his desire, a means to an end- a source of pleasure that had long been denied to the crusader… and was only now being realized. Had he forgotten who she was? -who the girl was that he was so desperately fucking on the table? Even so, nothing made her happier…

Ever the gentleman, he was still prescient enough to realize that he was nearing his limit. The old lion pulled his cock out, soaking wet, throbbing and trickling precum. “Rein- Reinhardt.” Brigitte moaned, reaching over and grabbing his behemoth manhood, “Does it feel good?”

He grit his teeth and nodded, “Ja… You’re… wonderful.”

She smiled wide through all the pain and soreness and teary eyes. She felt like she had finally done some right by the man who had been her idol her whole life. The woman shifted her legs apart, laying flat on her back before him, eager to receive him. She smiled sweetly at the sight of him about to cum all over her… she now knew with certainty that he was completely lost in the moment, feeling only what she wanted him to feel… she stroked him harder, watching her hand pump over that massive member aimed right at her- she looked up at him and opened her mouth, watching with desperate need as he closed his eye and groaned. His cock stiffened in her grasp, his every muscle tightening as his whole body urged him towards that splendid moment of release.

His cum erupted out over her in torrents, splaying thick ropes over her hair, nose, cheek, neck, chest, and stomach… It was so warm and heavy, falling upon her with a real weight that bore upon her body. It dribbled down her abs and into her navel, pooled so thick upon her breasts that it slid down towards her sides like snowballs. Upon her face it felt like a wedding veil of his ecstacy. She closed her eyes and accepted it completely, her whole body shuddering. It was even better than she imagined- the physical fruit of all her labors, steaming hot and thick, draped all over her. Brigitte basked in it… basked in his glory, stroking him until it finally stopped… and even then some. He left her dripping with his pleasure, thick globs coalescing at her chin and nose. She couldn’t open one eye, nor did she want to… the younger woman was too absorbed in the feeling.

She lay there, panting and softly humming for a long time. The world around them no longer existed. Time faded away. Even Reinhardt was gone, in a way, but she felt that she was both literally and figuratively cloaked in his whole being.

Brigitte was drawn out of her reverie with the gentle patting of her breasts and flat abs with a towel. She smiled, keeping her eyes closed as she realized just how wonderful her master was… After he cleaned her up, Reinhardt picked her up in a bridal carry and brought her over to his bed in the back of the Wohnwagen. She laid atop him in utter contentedness, happy to be his squire… happy to have pleased him so. How small she felt in his powerful hands! How small she felt resting atop his massive chest, lifting her up with every breath! On the nightstand she saw the Overwatch coin that he was idly thumbing earlier, the memento left to him by his old Master… the symbol of the organization that he had given up so much and for so little. ...but that was in the past now.

The younger woman eventually drifted off to sleep, her body aching in the most sublime way possible… her thoughts were filled with affirmations that everything would be good- and that everything had been good. All these years she spent as his squire had amounted to something wonderful...

Yet when she awoke in the morning, he was gone.

Suddenly she felt a tremendous sense of loss… a premonition of what might very well soon be reality. Her hazel eyes fixated on the place on the nightstand where he set down the Overwatch coin but it wasn’t there… and neither was Reinhardt.

She threw on her shirt and trousers and stormed out of the RV, her eyes drawn to the open door of the tavern they parked right beside. When she went inside, she saw the old man ruminating over the symbol of his old fraternity... 

“I’ve been called.” The crusader solemnly said as she approached.

Brigitte leaned against the bar beside him. For all the reasons that she found him so… beautiful and so noble a human being, worthy of her devotion… those were the same reasons which would drive him to leave her. To risk everything… and maybe he wouldn’t come back.

This was her last chance to persuade him… and if that failed, the only thing left to do was to follow him.