Chapter Text
"So," you drone slowly after an extremely unpleasant silence enveloped the table where you and Root were watching your number, "What's up with you?"
"Nothing," Root answered casually without looking at you. She paid close attention to your number who was already on a date with her lawyer as if the whole 'life-in-jeopardy' ordeal never happened a few moments ago. She's watching her too close, if you can say so yourself. After all, the threat's been dealt with, and you're both just here to make sure she's really, really safe. You can feel your eyes roll at that. But you refuse to leave the mission until it's completely done and over with.
"Root," you sighed, "seriously, what's the matter? You've been acting strange since this morning."
Everybody noticed something was off with Root. There's heaviness in her steps, her witty repartee reduced to curt replies, and her smiles seemed forced. Harold had to convince her to go with you on this assignment in what you thought was hope to get her out of whatever mood she's in.
"Stop pretending you care, Shaw," she responds harshly, and then as if slapped by the intensity of - was that hurt or anger in her voice? - she exhales defeatedly, "Sorry, Sam," she says standing up. "You wanna get out of here?"
And before you can say anything, she walks away from you. It's not the first time you feel frustrated with your lack of capacity to grasp everything about Root.
"The Machine," Harold began when you got back on the subway hideout, "I think, it's not speaking to her."
That was a week ago.
Root came back today. Actually, Root paid you a visit today before you had to leave for your silly cover job at the make up counter. When you opened the door to let her in, because she knocked this time, you asked a little too aggressively what she wants. In your mind, all events from the previous week had been buried in a blur of face goop and gun powder. All she said was: "Just wanted to see you," with a winning smile on her face.
And it's like that's really all she wanted. She's just right there, watching you get ready without moving away from the door.
But that can't be it.
"Are you alright?" you ask.
"Yes?" she answers slowly, a bit puzzled.
You turn around to study her. You're looking at her closely. There's too much going on with her. Looking at her eyes, you can see hints of affection and concern, for who or for what, you don't know. There's a gentle smile playing at her lips, but her body seems tense, like she's undecided whether she wants to be here or not. She clears her throat. She must think you're checking her out. "Sam?" she looks confused all over again.
When the silence stretches on, she decided to cross the distance between you two. "Have a good day at work, Sameen," she says as she leans towards you to press a quick kiss on your forehead. Wait. What?
"I'll see you soon," she says as she's pulling away to head to the door.
"What was that?" you mumble unintelligently. You stand there dazed and unable to register anything until she reaches for the knob on your door.
"Listen," you say hesitantly. You shift from one foot to the other. "Just tell me what's wrong, Root," you try to say sincerely.
"Well," she says, stretching the word with a mischievous smile spreading across her lips, "if I say I need you, what would you say?" The smile morphed into a thin line before it's completely gone. "Honestly Sameen, nothing's wrong. It's just been exhausting lately. I just wanted to take a moment to breathe. I do like spending time with you," she says truthfully. She stands there momentarily waiting for you to say anything, or ask something. After a while and not a peep from you, she gives you one final smile before she slips out the door.
A heavy weight fell upon your chest, making it harder for you to breathe for a little while. Only then do you remember your response to that line from the first time you two worked together.
"The only thing I know for sure is: I. Need. You," that's what she said back then.
And this is how you responded: "Then you should get out of my way."
Maybe she needs you for another mission. Or maybe she needs something from you? Though you're definitely intrigued as to what it could be, it's just too much to think about.
But the days went on as if nothing happened. You barely see her or hear from her so you push the thoughts away. She'll let you know if it's really pertinent to something concerning the team or your missions, but that's not to say you're not tempted to call her up and ask her what she meant. That is until Reese came back from a mission with a blonde lady who's approaching Root.
"Hey, Root," she says anxiously, seemingly excited and nervous at the same time. When she noticed Reese's amused look once he caught up with her, she tries to
straighten up. "Looking good as always," she continues with a wink, now a little more confident than her initial greeting.
"Frankie," Root says, "So glad you've decided to come to New York. I'm sure you'll like it here."
"Oh, I'm liking it already, alright," she says looking at Root as if you and John are not there.
Root just smiles and you're not liking this turn of events, least of all this Frankie person.