But It Pours

London, as it turned out, was a perpetually overcast and comically rain-sodden capital city. McCree was aware of the stereotypes about English weather, heard it secondhand from Lena many a time, and every time he returned to the English capital he was awestruck at how unendingly wet the city always was. Lena had joked about issuing Overwatch-branded ‘brollies’ to anyone going on a London mission, and McCree was starting to believe it might not have been a terrible call. At least his partner seemed to thrive in stormy weather. McCree looked to Hanzo as they walked, inconspicuous as a samurai and a cowboy could be, over Hungerford Bridge toward their mark- a bomb threat, off all things. Chin held high and eyes forward, the elder Shimada paid no mind to the raindrops that found their way inside his hood and collected on his tidy beard. His expression was regal as ever, even when hidden beneath the shade of a hoodie, and if he was anxious about walking towards a potential bomb the archer did not show it.