A night's chill settles upon the city. You peer out through a window on the tenth floor of your building, frost encroaching on the glass surface and obscuring the full view of the streets below. Paranoia is in your blood. You always wait outside of your home to make sure that you aren't being followed.

But something is different tonight. Your sixth sense for danger is tingling. The subtle changes in atmosphere, the unsettled dust around the door-frame that leads to your apartment. Someone has broken in while you were away. You cradle the handgun stored in your coat pocket and slowly approach the wooden barrier.

Locked.

You pull out the key and open the door, making sure to peer through the crack to deter any potential attackers.

The gun is knocked away and sent clattering to the floor, you weren't keeping that tight a grip on it anyway – because the person who had infiltrated your room was no stranger. A flash of blue and purple against the light pollution pouring in through your living room window.

"Widowmaker."

None of your precautions would have protected you from her. Talon's premiere assassin and secret keeper. You'd be dead from a hundred miles away before even seeing her. She's not here to kill you, she's never been one for a personal touch after all. She stalks around you like a predator, before sitting down on a chair and crossing her legs.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" you ask. You bend down and pick up your discarded weapon, placing it on the dining table with a sigh. She remains silent, judging you with her unnatural yellow eyes. She is wearing a black leather jacket and tight jeans that emphasise her curvy figure. Through the unbutton jacket though, you can see a strange purple jumpsuit that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Her face is frozen, impassively like a stone statue. Even as she finally decides to speak, "They sent me to kill you."

"...So why am I not dead?"

You know exactly why this is happening. You crossed the wrong people, and they knew the wrong people. They pulled some strings in return for a favour and got Talon to clean up their mess. You are that mess. For an international criminal organization, Talon can be very petty when they think they can get something out of it.

"You remind me of someone."

"Do I now?"

"Yes."

You glance to your now open window as a cool chill rolls into the room. But you aren't shivering because of the cold. "Is that all you wanted to say? If you want to kill me – go ahead and do it before I have to pay my damn rent. You'll be doing me a favour."

"They tell me to do a lot of things that I would rather not."

"But you do them anyway."

"Yes. Except for now."

"And why does that matter?"

"They programmed me to never question them, to never feel remorse. Yet when I stand here in front of you, I find myself hesitating."

"A glitch."

She stands and approaches you, her hips swinging with a naturally seductive gait, "I suppose it is. Do not think I am without my own sense of rebellion. I will not kill you; because you represent the first chance for me to escape. To change of my own will." She reaches out with a hand and cups your cheek. She is cold to the touch. Perhaps that explains the blue colour of her skin. You daren't move for fear of invoking her anger.

"You want me to disappear, don't you?"

She almost cracks a smile, "Not wanting for intelligence."

"But I'm not going get away from you, am I?"

"No." She says the way with such finality that there's no room for argument. She sucks the air out of the room with a mere glance, or a touch of her finger. "For myself, and for you. Leave this behind and move on. Please."

You'd rather not end up dead in a ditch. You nod. "Fine, this city is cramping my style anyway."

Before you can pull away she pulls on your hair and drags you into a forceful, tongue filled kiss. At first, it's enough to shock you into stillness. But for some insane reason you decide to reciprocate the affection. Your tongues duel as you wrap your hands around her hips and feel her pert behind. The kiss intensifies until you're left breathless and panting.

She trails her finger down your chest, "Be a good boy for me, and theirs is more of that in store for you."

You blink and she's already gone! The window swings open as a black silhouette swings off into the night. You smooth down your ruffled hair and try to comprehend what just happened. You're on Widowmaker's list, but not for the reason you were expecting.