Archive of Our Own ^beta

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A/N: Hey guys. Long time no gunfire. But finally here I am with a new Shoot fanfic for you. This takes place after 4x09, it's how I think Shaw's awakening should have been. May have spoilers if you haven't seen episode 4x10.
Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Enjoy.

She could feel the effect of whatever Root had injected her with starting to wear off, but she couldn't move yet. It felt like she had no body to move, really. And it was a dreadful sensation. She remembered that time when Hersh tried to kill her… what had it been that time? Etorphine? Her neurons tried to make the medical connections but even her brain still felt numb. Did Root use the same drug this time, even if her goal wasn't to kill her? Maybe she just used propofol or ketamine. If so, she'd be fully functional in a few more minutes. At least that was what she hoped. She tried opening her eyes, but her eyelids remained stubbornly still. She could hear voices, though. Distant, but familiar.

"Miss Shaw must be about to wake up. I'm not sure if you being here when she does is a that great on an idea."

"Probably not."

It was Finch speaking. Always with that pitch of concern in his words. And the second voice was Reese's. Was Finch addressing to Root or was it just John there with him?

Then she heard a low growl right beside her. If her face muscles could move, she'd be smiling. It was Bear. She was pretty sure the dog was laying by her side.

"I'm staying here." Someone else spoke and Shaw immediately matched the voice to the face. Root. She clenched her fists in anger, only noticing a few seconds later that she had actually done it. She slowly opened and closed her fingers again, her body meeting her brain's orders. Finally.

She noticed Bear shift besides her with a whimper, detecting her movements. But fortunately he didn't make a big scene of it and the others didn't seem to have noticed.

She remained still for a few more minutes, waiting for her whole body to recover from the strong dose of anaesthetic, meanwhile giving room for her anger to build even more as she kept listening to Root's voice. Eventually she decided her body was ready. She shifted suddenly, sitting on the low bed and causing Bear to bark as he wiggled his tail frantically.

"Miss Shaw. You're awake!" Harold immediately started limping towards her, walking past John and Root, with a water bottle in one hand, ready to give it to her. But Shaw's eyes instantly locked onto someone else in the hideout. Root was near one of the doors of the old and abandoned subway train. Unlike Harold and Reese who were now by Shaw's bed, the hacker didn't move one inch, but the fond smile that was now in her lips pissed Shaw off even more.

Ignoring what Finch was telling her about drinking water, Shaw slipped a hand between her boot and her leg, happy to still find the knife she had hidden there. As she took the blade out, she got up from the bed, almost running in the direction of Root, without even blinking.

"Hi Sam…" Root started but was cut off by the harsh push against the metal structure and by the knife pressed hard against her throat, blocking the air from entering or coming out of her lungs. Root brought her hands to the fist that Shaw had holding the knife tightly.

"I will kill you!" Shaw spat out. Her furious gaze penetrating Root's eyes. But Root didn't even flinch, she didn't look startled nor scared. Instead, she just matched Shaw's angry stare with deep and calm eyes. Shaw also noticed that Root's hands on her wrist weren't even trying to cancel the force with which she was pressing the knife to her flesh. They were just placed there, still. For a second Shaw could even swear those hands were actually caressing her.

"Miss Shaw, please don't do anything you will regret later!" Finch didn't sound so calm. And she could sense John with his gun drawn out. Would he seriously shoot her if she tried to slit Root's neck open?

Anyway, she didn't care. Her business was with Root now.

"I trusted you, Root. And you, almost literally, stabbed me behind my back!" the smaller woman said between clenched jaws. She forced the sharp blade harder against Root's neck. A trail of blood started running through the blade as the skin gashed underneath its pressure. Root gasped, her lips now slightly parted, but remained wordless, keeping her eyes locked with Shaw's.

The dark red fluid travelled down the blade till it reached the knife's handle and Shaw's fingers. Shaw felt the warmness of the blood in her cold hand and her eyes darkened as the desire to push Root harder against the wall and pierce the knife deeper in her skin grew inside her. She felt Root's hands now gripping a little bit tighter around her wrist. But instead of pulling it away, Shaw noticed that Root was helping, applying strength in the same direction as Shaw, against her own neck. Shaw was now confused.

"Do it." Root teased.

"Okay, that's enough!" John intervened, separating the two women and trying to take Shaw's knife from her. Reluctantly, she gave him the knife after a few seconds and stepped away, snatching the bottle of water that Finch had handed her and drinking it all at once.

Finch hurriedly handed Root his pocket square for her bleeding neck.

"Are you okay?" He asked the taller woman. Root nodded with a forced smile. She placed a hand on Finch's shoulder and then looked back at Shaw.

"If you weren't so stubborn none of that would have been needed. Don't blame us." Root said and Shaw reacted in anger again, already clenching her fists till her knuckles turned white, ready to punch her right across the face. But John wasn't going to let her do it. Instead she heard the clicks of handcuffs being wrapped around her wrist and onto a nearby bench.

"Are you serious, Reese?!" She asked him as she tried to release herself from the cuffs, ineffectively. Reese just shrugged.

"We have a new number to which Mr. Reese needs to be attending, and considering your current state, we believe it's better to have you.." he paused for a second, thinking about what word to use, ".. Restrained." The small angry woman was about to protest, but Finch continued. "You are no longer safe from Samaritan's gaze and you wouldn't listen to reason."

"You turned on me, Harold." Shaw stated. She was about to retort something else but Finch didn't give her time, asking her what she wanted to eat instead.

"The Beatrice Lillie from Park's Deli, Pastrami sandwich, extra mustard, spicy and yellow, and pepperoncini. And if there's even a hint of mayonnaise I'll use my knife on you too, Harold."

Harold exchanged a look with Root and Reese, but both of them just shrugged back.

Reese and Finch got out of the hideout at the same time, Reese to take care of the number and Finch to get Shaw's special order. Root stayed there. Shaw wasn't sure if she just stayed to keep an eye on her or if she really didn't have anywhere else to be. She sat down on the bench to which Reese cuffed her. Root remained silent, still pressing the pocket square Harold gave her against her bleeding neck. Shaw watched her for a while, before finally sighing and breaking the silence.

"Let me have a look." The former doctor said. Root shot her a glance, surprised with the words. The hacker tried to contain the smirk that threatened to form in her lips. She thought about saying something about how Shaw cared for her, but she thought it was probably safer not to piss Shaw off anymore considering that she had almost slit her neck ten minutes earlier. Instead, Root just sat beside Shaw, her right hand still pressing the cloth against the gashed skin.

Shaw brought her free hand up, grabbing Root's one and removing it from her neck. The movement was kind of rough, like almost everything that was Sameen Shaw, but it was enough to lift the butterflies on Root's stomach for an instance. Root tilted her head back a bit as Shaw brushed her fingers over and around the wound, examining it. The hacker tried to keep her face neutral, forcing the urge to bite her bottom lip, but she was sure her breathing would give away the arousal that started building up inside her as Shaw's fingers lingered on her neck longer than she was sure was necessary. If Shaw noticed anything, she pretended she didn't.

"It's not that deep, it'll probably still leave a scar though." Shaw said, taking her hand away from Root's neck and staring at blood in her fingers. Root's blood. She thought maybe it would be polite to apologize to Root, but she was not sorry for what she had done. It had felt pretty good, actually. Root had lied to her and drugged her, again. Why would she be sorry?!

Root got up only to return a minute later with a small recipient with water and a small towel.

"Here, wash your hands."

Shaw looked up at Root, her brown curls resting peacefully on her shoulders as she knelled in front of Shaw and held the water bowl for her.

"You know, I could almost get used to this life. Having lackeys to bring me food and water…" Shaw grumbled.

"Want me to scratch your back in the shower too, Shaw?" Root teased with a smirk. Shaw sent her an annoying look.

"Did I mention that I might have a second knife hidden in my other boot?" Shaw warned, and Root backed off, the smirk still on her face. "You should put a dressing on that before it infects." her doctor-self added.

"Now you're worried that it might infect?" Root asked with one of those grins that Shaw hated so much.

As Shaw finished washing off the blood from her hands, Harold returned, handing her the sandwich which she devoured quickly.

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The events of that day were everything but amusing. Samaritan was keen and determined to show herself to the Machine and speak to Her, so Root served as the intermediate for that conversation whilst Reese and Finch tried effortlessly to save some lives from the chaos that Samaritan turned New Your City into. Shaw clenched her fists as she watched the news and reports through Finch's monitors. She knew she had promised to stay there, to not put herself in harm's way with Samaritan's agents. But in that moment, none of them was safe at it seemed pretty stupid that she'd be the only one to live past that day if the worst came. And so she grabbed her guns and left. It was better not to warn them and just leave. They would try to stop her, to come after her if she did. So why give them the heads up? She needed to help them, all of them, and she wasn't doing so by sitting in front of a bunch of computers doing nothing. She wasn't a nerd, her place was not there, that was for Harold or even for Root. Not for her. Her place was outside. And if Martine and the rest of Team Samaritan wanted to end her, she was willing to put on a good fight. While they worry about me, they won't worry about them. That was her plan.

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A/N: Sorry for the long Christmas wait, but here it finally is :) Reviews are really appreciated.

"Miss Shaw, can you hear me?" Finch's voice resounded in her earpiece. She adjusted the heavy bag on her shoulder as she walked before answering him.

"Yes, I can hear you, Harold."

"What on earth do you think you're doing? You are not even following the shadow map!" The concern he let through was almost deafening. Shaw rolled her eyes, not even bothering to answer. She knew everything he was about to say. That it was dangerous. That Samaritan's agents were going to find her and probably kill her. That the only place she was safe right now was on the subway station. But seriously, the city was falling apart, no one was safe. Why would she be the one to stay away from danger? What moral did she, of all people in New York City, have for that?

"There's little you can do to change the way things are unraveling." Finch insisted.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I know I can't cut the snake's head off, but will it be has powerful without its teeth?" Shaw said, as she kept walking, determined. She stopped briefly in front of a CCTV camera, looking directly at the lens, taunting Samaritan and the people she knew were in a room somewhere, watching.

"Are you saying you're planning on killing all of Samaritan's agents? On your own? Is that you're plan?" Harold asked, almost in disbelief, like he had just heard the most absurd thing ever said. "That's not a plan. That's suicide!"

"It's all I've got."

"It's not all that much." She heard as two hands pushed her to a small alley by the sleeve of her grey coat.

"Damn it, Root! You have to stop doing that or I'll end up putting a bullet in you!" Shaw complained as she yanked Root away from her and adjusted her coat.

"Wouldn't be the first, would it?" Root asked with a smug look on her face, remembering that time Shaw shot her left shoulder.

Shaw semi-closed her eyes. "Maybe next time I won't aim at your shoulder. A little more to the left, perhaps?"

Root smiled back. "How sweet of you."

"Did you send her to drug me again, Harold?" Shaw asked as she absently stared at Root. Even with all that was going on, Root could still manage to draw that smirk, so natural of hers.

Harold didn't know Root had gone to find Shaw, in fact he was a little surprised.

"The Machine has a plan, and I need you to help me with it, Sameen."

Suddenly Shaw seemed interested, although she was sure Root's plan was not all gunfire and grenades like hers was, and it wouldn't be so amusing, but it would probably also not be as suicidal.

"Please ladies, don't make me have to plan your funeral." Harold scolded them. Shaw cut Harold off, turning off her ear piece.

"What's the plan then?" Shaw asked impatiently as Root just started walking in a fast pace along the alley, without revealing anything else. "C'mon Root. How am I supposed to believe you're not tricking me again?" Root continued without answering as they reached the junction of the alley with another street that was inside the shadow map. Shaw kept following her and trying to understand what the plan was.

"Not to brag, but I'm starting to think that my plan was better than this silent one of yours." Shaw said.

As she ended the sentence, three suited men stepped out of a black SUV a few meters ahead of them. Root immediately spun on her heels, pushing Shaw against a small building entrance door, hiding Shaw with her own body. The heavy bag of guns made a loud thud as it hit the wall, and Root pressed herself harder against it and Shaw to stop the metal assembly from rattling.

Being taller than Shaw, and pinning her hands on the wall and door at each side of Shaw's face, Root hoped that her rushed tactic would be enough to deceive the agents from recognizing Shaw or herself.

Both women stood still for a while. The only movements made being that of Shaw slowly dropping the bag from her shoulder to the floor, and those of their chests moving up and down as they breathed heavily. Their bodies where so close that Shaw could smell Root's gentle perfume and feel the air exhaled from the other woman's lungs hit her face, lifting the tiny hairs on the back of her neck as the warm hair hit her cold skin. But for some unknown reason, the closeness wasn't bothering her as it usually did. Their eyes locked as they remained silent. Not that Shaw had ever really needed it, or at least admit she did, but Root had saved her ass from catching a lot of bullets lately, she thought as she looked into Root's eyes. She was far from thanking Root, but deep down, Shaw was grateful for the other woman's presence. Root only broke the stare to glance over her shoulder. The SUV was still there, Samaritan's agents she couldn't see. The Machine couldn't see them either.

"Can we please just fire them up?" Shaw asked whilst shifting the weight of her body to her other leg, their bodies brushing lightly in the process.

Root bit her lower lip as a tiny smile formed in her face. "I love the way you always want to handle things."

Shaw's eyes narrowed, trying to understand if that was one of Root's typical innuendos or if there was no ulterior motive in her words. Root's eyes lingered over Shaw's lips for a second, the look tightening Shaw's chest a little as she noticed it. But then Root looked over her shoulder again, and lastly stepped back. The SUV was no longer there.

"Let's keep moving." Root instructed.

Shaw quickly picked up the bag and followed. "Where?" She tried once again.

"Do you want some help carrying that?" The taller woman asked, avoiding the question whilst throwing Shaw a glance from over her shoulder.

"No. I trust you more if I have my guns nearby." Shaw replied with a forced grin. "Now, can you tell me, once and for all, what your God's plan is?"

Root slowed down her pace, so they could be walking side by side. She tilted her head towards Shaw slightly. "We're going to get our leverage."

They reached the intersection of two small streets. Shaw almost crashed on top of Root as the taller woman stopped suddenly. Shaw followed Root's stare to the apartment building in front of them, then she watched as Root turned around and walked to a small electric box screwed to the wall of the building right next to them.

"We are still invisible here, but as soon as we step onto that road, Samaritan will be able to see us. So the Machine and I prepared a little contingency plan." Root said, a wide smile adorning her features as she took a small device from her leather jacket's pocket and waved it in her hand, almost childishly. She opened the electric box and connected a few wires into the device. Shaw watched her close the small metal door and lower her arms, face straight – waiting. A few seconds later that wide smile creeped into her face again as she whispered "Thank you". She was talking to the Machine. Shaw deduced quickly what she was thanking it for as Root started walking fearless into the road ahead.

"All cameras in a thousand and three hundred feet radius are off." Root said as she turned around to face Shaw while still walking backwards. "But we still need to hurry. Samaritan is going to send agents to check what's going on and to turn on the feeds again."

Shaw understood, fastening her pace to catch up with Root, which meant almost running, given Root's advantage and considerably larger legs. They quickly reached the intended apartment building, stopping at the entrance with their guns drawn out. Shaw adjusted the heavy bag in her shoulder.

"Remember, we need her unharmed… for now." Root smiled as she pressed the bell button for one of the apartments. Only then giving away that their leverage was actually a person. A she. Shaw couldn't figure out who she could be yet though.

An old woman answered with a tired voice and Root answered into the machine. "Hi Mrs. Beckett, it's the neighbor from the first floor. Sorry to bother you, but could you open the entrance door for me? My key is bent and I can't open it."

Shaw sent her a skeptic look. It was a low blow, but it worked. With a buzz and a click, the door to the building unlocked. Root immediately shot Shaw a satisfied glance.

They climbed up a set of stairs to the first floor and turned to the door on the right. Shaw shoot the door open and as they entered there was their leverage, frightened by the sudden intrusion. The young woman was sitting behind a desk with three computer screens and various other equipments that Shaw couldn't name. Numerous processors stood behind her, against the far wall of the spacious living room.

"Hi Claire. It's so good to finally meet you." Root greeted in her exaggerated ways.

Claire Mahoney. Shaw immediately recognized her. She had been one of their numbers a few months back. The one that turned out being recruited by Samaritan. This was their leverage. She eyed Root as she acknowledged that it was a pretty clever plan, although she didn't know to what extent Claire was such a good leverage, but she was sure Root would enlighten her soon.

With her eyes still full of fear, Claire bent down suddenly, trying to reach out for the gun she had hidden there, but Shaw gave two fast steps forward, her gun aimed directly at the girl, and advised her that it was probably not that great of an idea. She gestured for her to get up and put her hands above her head and the girl obeyed.

"You've been working on something for Samaritan, haven't you Claire? I want to know all about it." Root addressed the girl that was now doing her best to seem strong and not fearful. "But right now we don't have time for pep talks."

Then Root took something else from her pocket as she moved towards Claire. It were handcuffs. But instead of cuffing both of Claire's wrists, she only closed one, pushing Claire to where Shaw was standing, that smile on her face again.

Shaw tilted her head in overthrow as she understood what Root was about to do. "You've gotta be kidding me."

After cuffing Claire to Shaw, Root looked at her clock and hurried to the door.

"Let's go." The hacker said. And Shaw followed, pushing a scared and unwilling Claire behind her. The grasp on Shaw's wrist bruised her skin a little every time she had to force Claire to walk. But she wasn't worried about it, it didn't hurt that much, and even if she did, Shaw had a high tolerance for that.

"At least tell me you have the keys with you." Shaw said almost questioning, but the only answer she got was another sideways glance and a grin from Root.

As they reached the end of the stairs Root cursed under her breath. From the glassed doors of the apartment building she could see three SUV's approaching from the road they had taken only a few minutes ago. Her heart accelerated so fast that she thought it would make her throw up.

Shaw's eyes jumped from the SUV's to Root's petrified gaze.

"They weren't supposed to be this fast at getting here." Root said, the words coming out barely above a whisper.

"Never underestimate Samaritan. Thought you knew that already." Claire dared, a whole new relieved look on her face.

"Shut up, kid." Shaw growled. "Any back doors, Root?" She asked, the question breaking Root from her momentary immobility.

"Yeah. And can I borrow a second gun from you?" She asked Shaw as she turned around from the entrance, running for the stairwells. Shaw unzipped the bag halfway and handed Root her request.

They climbed up to the first floor again, re-entering Claire's apartment. They went for the kitchen and Root immediately got up on the counter, opening the window over it and jumping out. Fire escape. Shaw made Claire climb up the counter and onto the other side as she did the same. They ran down the rusty steps.

"We need a car." Root said. Shaw was almost sure that she had forgotten that the Machine was blind too and that she had been waiting for it to tell her if there was any easy-to-steal car nearby. As the Machine didn't answer, for obvious reasons, Shaw pulled Claire harshly again, as she walked down the road to check the few old cars parked there.

"Shaw, get down!"

Root's shouted words seemed to have put time in slow motion. Shaw glance behind her back, to where Root's voice had come from, and she saw the black SUV driving their way, the passenger's side window rolled down and a man's head and upper body emerging from it, gun in hand.

Shit. She pulled Claire into cover between the parked cars.

But Root had nowhere to hide from the bullets that started flying from the SUV. Instead, Shaw watched as Root pointed her guns at the man bent out of the SUV and started shooting as well.

Shaw opened her bag of guns preparing herself for what was about to come. She was about to throw more ammo to Root when the scene that followed unfold slowly in front of her. It hadn't been slow. It had been everything but slow. If it hadn't been so fast maybe she would have had time to stop it. Or change it. But it had only been slow in her brain. Some of the bullets from Root's guns found their way into their targets, both the passenger and the driver. But another bullet found its target as well, and Shaw watched as Root crouched and fell backwards when the bullet hit her.

"ROOT!" Shaw yelled, worry and anger overloading her senses.

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Root's back collided harshly with the road pavement, almost as harshly as the SUV derailed and crashed against two parked cars further down the road. Shaw knew that the other two SUV's would probably soon follow and open fire, but she didn't think twice before slipping two guns from her bag on the waistband of her black jeans and running to where Root was lying motionless on the cold floor, almost dragging Claire behind her.

"Root!" She called as she crouched beside Root, one knee on the concrete pavement. She lifted the other woman's head carefully, placing her head on her thigh and her left hand resting softly on her hair, Claire's arm sliding along due to the cuffs linking them together. Root's eyes were wide open, her lips parted as she inhaled and exhaled intensely. Shaw looked down Root's body, trying to locate where the bullet had hit. The blood was spreading on Root's dark grey shirt, dripping to the floor under her, a small pond starting to form, the dark red liquid contrasting against the grey that surrounded.

Shaw pulled the sides of Root's leather jacket away from her torso with her free hand, revealing the bullet's entrance wound. It was right under her ribcage, slightly on the left side of her body. Shaw's hand slide to Root's back, careful not to hurt her even more, her fingertips searching for an exit wound. There wasn't any. It meant less bleeding, which was good, but it also meant the bullet was stuck inside her body, maybe even fragmented, which was not good and meant more damage inside.

"I'm okay." Root gasped, trying to hide the pain with a grin, but it failed in lighting up her face. She tried to push herself up but it seemed like a thunder striking her and she couldn't avoid the strangled cry that left her throat.

Shaw's right hand was now pressed strongly against the wound in Root's abdomen, trying to minimize the bleeding.

"You are not okay. And stop trying to move. The bullet is somewhere inside you and we don't know what damage it can make if you keep on making it shift!" Shaw was now almost yelling, but there wasn't only anger in her voice. She was sincerely worried. Worried with Root.

"And you need to get out of here." Root said stoically even though the sentence came out hardly above a whisper. As she said it, Shaw saw the other two SUV's turning to the street where they were, the wheels and brakes screeching due to speed of the vehicles.

"I'm not leaving you here. They'll fucking kill you!" Shaw exclaimed as she took her left hand from Root's head, she reached for one of the guns on her back and started shooting the cars, the inertia from having Claire's arm attached to hers not making a real difference on Shaw's strong arm. She managed to shoot the car's windows and wheels, forcing them to stop a few dozen feet away from them. The agents opened the doors and ducked behind them as Shaw kept firing until the gun had no more bullets. She cursed the fact that no one had yet invented a gun with infinite ammo. It only took her a second to reach out to the waistband of her black jeans and take out the second semi-automatic, starting to shoot again.

"We need her, Shaw. You have to get her out of here." Root said, trying to convince her to go. "The Machine will find a way to give you the address. Take her there."

"I'm not leaving you!" Shaw repeated. Her heart was beating its way to her throat, she felt the pressure of each pump against her chest, powerful and tightening. She wasn't going to let anyone – Root - die that day, at least not before she died first.

She turned to Claire and asked her to replace her hand on Root's wound, putting pressure on it. The girl moved to the other side of Root, in front of Shaw, her back to Samaritan's SUVs. Shaw turned on her earpiece with her bloody hand.

"Finch, we need help over here! Root needs a hospital as soon as possible!" The angry woman growled. Root started shaking her head, her eyes begging as she gripped Shaw's upper arm with a trembling hand.

"No, no, no! Shaw, we can't! You have to take Claire out of here. Just, go! Don't worry about me!" The words entered Shaw's ears at the same time she heard Finch's deeply concerned voice through the ear piece, asking her what was going on, where they were and another bunch of questions.

Samaritan's agents weren't firing back, and Shaw took a second to understand why. She stared at the girl in front of her, full of fear in her eyes as she pressed her free hand into a strangers bleeding abdomen. They weren't firing because they didn't have a clear shot with Claire there, they didn't want to shoot her by accident. Leverage, Shaw thought as she came up with a plan to get them out of there alive. She looked from Claire to the parked car behind them, next to which her arsenal bag was, and then to Root's pale face, her muscles contracted with pain.

"Miss Shaw?" She heard Finch's voice buzz in her ear again, reminding her that he was still there, waiting for her to tell him how he could help.

"I'll call you later, Finch." She said, turning the ear piece off. As soon as she did, she turned to Claire, pointing the gun at her as she spoke. "Claire, I need you to cooperate with me here. If you don't, I'll put a bullet in you. And not in one of those spots that kill, but in one of those that hurt like hell."

Claire swallowed hard and eventually nodded.

"You should just leave me and go, Shaw." Root managed to say, her words shaky and her breath unsteady.

Shaw rolled her eyes and told her to shut up, turning her face to Claire.

"We'll take cover behind that car again" She said to Claire, "I'll carry her, and you will put yourself between them and us. Ever been a human shield before?" Shaw continued, forcing a tired smile. Claire shook her head.

"If you try something funny, I will shoot you, Claire." Shaw added and the girl simply nodded, unable to say a word. Then Shaw turned to the woman lying by her feet. "Root, I need you to put pressure on the wound yourself. Can you do that for me?"

Root nodded, biting the inside of her lower lip as she moved her trembling palms to the wound, replacing Claire's hand. She winced in pain.

"I know it hurts, but you have to press it as hard as you can." Shaw added.

Claire prepared to get up as soon as Shaw did the same, given that their arms were still cuffed together, she didn't have that much freedom in her movements.

Shaw grabbed Root from behind, dragging her whilst Claire shielded them from the possible gunfire. As she did, Root cried loudly, the movement producing an horrific pain. She brought her right hand to Shaw's arm, gripping it hard as she begged her to stop. But Shaw didn't stop until they were behind the vehicle. As she predicted, they didn't fire a single bullet, and now Shaw was again beside her heavy bag of guns. But it weren't guns she wanted, rather something else she had put in the bag: grenades. She helped Root lean against the car's tire before looking for her grenades in the bag.

"You're blowing them up?" Claire asked, her voice pitchy and her eyes terrified.

Shaw looked at her, annoyed. "Yeah, that's the idea." She took two grenades in her right hand, pulling the pins out and throwing them both to the SUV's on the other side of the road, her arm strong enough for them to fall right where she needed them to. She and Claire ducked over the car as the grenades blew up, shattering everything around them, blowing up the SUV's and who was near them. It had been a long time since she had actually killed someone. With Finch and John it had mainly been all kneecaps and shoulders. But she was sure it was a good day to break her fasting.

After she made sure the damage done was effective, she looked at Root again, her head resting backwards, against the car's cold metal, her breaths quick and uneven as she pressed one hand in the wound, her jaws clenched whilst she tried to hide the pain. Shaw felt admiration for her in that moment, because Root always tried her best to hide her weaknesses, kind of like Shaw did, but mostly because Root never put herself first, never wanted to put anyone in jeopardy, even if it meant dying in the process, alone. But Shaw wasn't going to let her do that now.

"They are sending more agents." Root informed her as the Machine screeched in her implant.

Shaw nodded slightly, understanding that their window of escape was short.

"C'mon Claire. Root, don't go anywhere, we'll be right back." Shaw said, and Root threw her a skeptic look.

Shaw shrugged and got up, Claire being pushed along, they moved around the car that had given them cover, seeing if it was okay. Unfortunately one tire was flat. Shaw cursed their luck and then walked to the next car, assuring that I was okay, then she smashed the driver's window with the back of her gun. Small pieces of glass scratched her hand, but she didn't feel any pain. She opened the door from the inside and sat down on the driver's seat, bending down to take the access panel and the wires out from underneath the steering wheel, Claire being forced to kneel down on the floor just outside the car as Shaw pushed her hand in. Shaw hotwired the car, a sensation of relief adorning her when the car's engine started.

She opened the back door of the sidewalk's side and then they walked back to Root. The blood still slowly spreading around her body. Shaw calculated that Root had probably lost almost a liter already. If she lost more than 1.5 liters, things would start to get complicated.

She kneeled down beside Root, putting two fingers in the other woman's pulse point, checking her pulse, right above the dressing in her neck, the dressing that hid the cut Shaw had produced in Root's flesh.

With Claire's help, and to Root's despair, Shaw dragged her up and inside the backseats of their soon-to-be stolen car, starting to hear police sirens at the distance.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if you gave me the key to open this handcuffs." Shaw said.

Root licked her dry lips before answering. "It's in your pants' pocket."

Shaw looked at her incredulous, then checked her pockets and found the small key in one of them. How did Root managed to put the key in her pocket?!

Anyway… She shook her head and then grabbed Claire by the collar of her sweatshirt and shoved her in the driver's seat.

"I hope you can drive." Shaw told her, a threatening tone in her voice. Shaw took the cuff from her own wrist and curled it around the steering wheel, the other half still on Claire's arm. Only then Shaw noticed the bruising around her wrist, she stroked it while she sat on the back sit with Root, taking the other woman's head and shoulders on her lap, then trading Root's hands with her own over the wound. Root grunt in pain, her legs twisting a little before Shaw's hand steadied in her abdomen. Shaw murmured relaxing words in Root's ear, removing a strand of hair away from Root's face with her fingers. Root closed her eyes shut, agonized by the throbbing she felt travel all over her body, but slowly calming down as Shaw's words and human heat comforted her.

Shaw could hear the sirens getting closer, still out of sight though. She told Claire to drive, clicking the gun softly against the girl's shoulder, over the seat, to make sure she followed the instructions Root started giving them as the Machine told her where Claire had to turn and go.

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you liked the new chapter. And as I'll probably not update again before 2015 arrives, I wish you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D

Chapter Text

A/N: Hope you all entered 2015 with your right foot! And again, thank you to everyone who has left kudos and specially comments on this story. You guys make me smile :)

From her lying position on the backseat, Root couldn't see where they were when the machine first told them to stop, but Shaw could. A pharmacy and a small liquor store.

"You should thank Her for being so thoughtful." Shaw smiled at Root. "I'll be right back." She said as she opened the car's door and got out, tugging the gun on the waistband of her jeans and covering it with her shirt and jacket. As she passed throw Claire's shattered window, she pointed a firm finger right to the girl's nose, reminding her not to try anything stupid.

Shaw didn't take longer than she needed to get all the medical equipment, saline solution, painkillers and antibiotics necessary to treat Root and to buy some food and water from the liquor store, but for Root it seemed like she was taking hours. She could feel the blood slowly flowing through her fingers as she tried her best to put pressure on the wound like Shaw had told her a dozen times before. She noticed Claire then, she could only see the back of her head and her neck through the gap between the seat and the headrest, the younger woman's head trapped in a low ponytail, much like how Shaw liked to use it.

"I know you think everything you're doing is for a good and greater purpose. But I don't think you have seen the full picture, Claire." Root said with effort, the drops of sweat rolling down her forehead and temples. "We're not the bad guys."

Claire turned her head slightly enough to be able to see Root's bleeding body from the side of her eye.

"So you have the right purpose, is that it?" Claire asked, cynically.

Root chuckled, regretting it as fast as she started when an agonizing pain flowed from the wound to every nerve in her body. "I understand you don't believe me, but everything that has been told to you is not quite as black and white as it was put."

"Why should I believe you?"

Root closed her eyes as she thought about the Machine, a tired grin in her lips.

"It's not in me that I expect you to believe in."

Shaw arrived second later, a bunch of bags in her hands that she shoved in the car's trunk before sitting by Root's side in the backseat, bringing two pills and a bottle of water in her hand.

"Here, take this." She placed the pills between Root's lips and helped her drink a few gulps of water, her hand gently over Root's jawbone. Root enjoyed the soothing feeling of Shaw's hand in her face and that of the fresh water going down her throat.

"Turn on the engine, Claire, we need to keep moving." Root said, after she had drunk half of the bottle of water.

Shivers and sweat were starting to overwhelm Root. She was glad the Machine finally whispered in her implant that they had arrived. She couldn't manage to say nothing more than the instructions the Machine communicated whilst Shaw took her and Claire inside the small house they were supposed to hide in. She was weak and she hurt. When Shaw laid her body down across the sofa, she felt no relief. Her eyes settled weakly on the opposite side of what she guessed was the house's living room, to where Claire was cuffed to a radiator by the wall. Root could sense Shaw walking around her, grabbing and ripping bags and packets. Her eyes drifted back to Shaw's when the woman kneeled in front of her, cutting her bloody shirt off with a pair of scissors, exposing her torso. She could hear Shaw talking, but it was getting harder to stay focused on her words, she felt so tired and she wanted to shut her eyes close, but for some weird reason Shaw kept telling her to keep them open.

"Root, hey, look at me." Shaw said as she dug a needle in Root's arm and hung the isotonic solution bag in a coat stand she found in the house, the drops entering her veins slowly through the catheter. Root did as she was told, she looked at Shaw, at her pouty lips, at the strands of hair that fell freely on each side of her face, at her beautiful features, at how beautiful she was. Even the tears of sweat that had started to form in Shaw's forehead seemed perfect. She was about to say something flirty and push Shaw into their usual innuendos, but even for that she felt too tired, the words falling to somewhere deep, to where her entire conscience seemed to be drifting as the seconds past.

"This will hurt like hell, but I have to do it, okay? Try to stay still." Shaw said and Root nodded. She didn't think anything could hurt more that she was feeling right now, though.

She felt Shaw pour a fresh liquid in her belly, it stung a bit as it came in contact with the shot wound, but it wasn't that bad, it was actually quite nice. But suddenly Shaw stopped pouring that fresh liquid, and scrubbed her abdomen with something else, a pad damp with a not so nice liquid, and the stinging feeling increase exponentially. Only then Root understood that the first had been water and the second probably alcohol. She closed her eyes shut as the harsh stings succumbed. But something told her this wasn't yet Shaw's definition of hurt like hell.

And she was right, a few seconds later the pain she felt was excruciating. Her eyes shot up to look for the cause of such intense pain, finding Shaw hands slipping tweezers inside her wound. She grabbed Shaw's sleeve, pulling it so toughly that the junction of the sleeve with the rest of the fabric of Shaw's shirt ripped apart. Her legs twisting in agony.

"Root, you can grip my arm, but you have to stay as still as possible." Shaw said once, repeating it until Root grabbed her upper arm with one hand and stilled her legs. As Shaw kept moving the tweezers inside of her to try to find the bullet, Root screamed loudly until her throat felt sore, her black fingernails digging in Shaw's arm. Shaw clenched her jaws shut as Root's nails slit her skin, but she tried to ignore it, concentrating on the task at hand.

"Sam, p-please!" Root cried, her eyes meeting Shaw's for an instant, begging the other woman to stop.

"Hey, don't you trust me?" Shaw asked, managing to give her a reassuring smile. She was sure Shaw's choice of words hadn't been random as she remembered the times she herself asked Shaw to trust her. Root nodded, bringing her other hand to her own mouth and biting it hard.

Finally she saw Shaw take a small piece of metal from inside of her and thought that her torture was over, but then she noticed Shaw shaking her head and cursing. The bullet was indeed fragmented. What Shaw had manage to take out was just one of its pieces.

When the medical instrument found her insides again, Root felt her stomach turn with the pain. She only had time to turn her upper body slightly to the side of the couch and vomit on the floor. Shaw's hands steadied her before continuing the awful torture. But Root couldn't take it anymore. She acknowledged her own brain trying to protect her, pushing her into unconsciousness, and she let it, allowing herself to be engulfed by its shadows.

Chapter Text

A/N: The hiatus is finally ending! OMG I can't wait for the next episode! To help you get through the last hours of waiting, here's a new chapter.
Don't forget to leave a comment in the end, because it makes me happy when you do.

The night had settled a few hours ago. Shaw was cleaning the mess of blood, cloths and dressings after she had finished patching up Root, the wounded woman still fast asleep on the couch. She found a blanket on one of the house's bedrooms and brought it to put over Root. As if she hadn't done it a billion times before, Shaw checked Root's pulse again before stepping away, making sure that she was okay. The isotonic solution still dripping slowly as it hang from the coat stand by the couch into Root's body.

Shaw sighed and then instructed herself to pay attention to the other person in the room, Claire, who was sitting on the floor, her arm cuffed to the radiator. Shaw got another blanket and a few pillows and tossed them at the young woman.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" Shaw asked, absently. Claire nodded in return, and Shaw picked up a small bottle of water, a beer and a packaged tuna sandwich from the plastic bags she had brought from the liquor store. She handed the water and the sandwich to Claire before stepping away, letting herself sink on an armchair nearby, beer in hand. She opened the cap with her hand with little effort, flicking it far away with her fingers, not caring where it landed. She was now more interested in understanding the reason why Claire was leverage, why they had gone to all that trouble for her, why Root almost died to snatch her from Samaritan. But it was Claire who asked the first question.

"Who are you?"

"Do you remember Harold? Let's say we are friends of his." Shaw asked, figuring it would be the best approach. And by mentioning him, Shaw remembered that she hadn't yet spoken to Finch since she was retrieving Root's injured body from imminent death. She made a mental note to call him later.

Claire's eyes narrowed when Shaw mentioned Harold, recalling the day she won the game and was recruited by the omnipotent power that she now considered her protector, her master, the only thing that gave meaning to her life. She remembered how he tried to convince her that the thing that was reaching back to her, to her search for a meaning, wasn't the right one, that this meaning wouldn't be the meaning she wanted. But until now it had been. It had given structure to her life, a purpose, a task.

"So all of this is to stop me from working with Samaritan?" Claire asked.

Shaw stared at her for a while.

"I guess it is. But I'm not the one who knows the reason you're here. She is." Shaw finally answered, looking behind her shoulder to Root sleeping on the couch. "And maybe you know too. More than me, for sure." She paused, staring fixedly at Claire. "What is it that Greer has you developing?"

The question left Claire confused. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly at the name Greer.

"Who?"

And then it was Shaw's turn to furrow her eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't know any Greer. I only work with Him, Samaritan." Claire clarified.

Shaw didn't know which part of those sentences made her more itchy. The fact that Claire was working for Samaritan but didn't know the head of Samaritan's human forces, the fact that she hadn't actually said 'work for' but rather 'work with', or the fact that she had called Samaritan a him. Shaw had to contain a loud chuckle as she thought of Samaritan and the Machine as the Adam and Eve of an Artificial Super Intelligence kind. Somehow it made sense that if Root addressed the Machine as Her, Samaritan would be a Him. She still thought it was the stupidest thing ever, though. She didn't mind using the personal pronoun on the Machine anymore, because she had learned to respect Her, and specially because Root treated the Machine like that and for some unknown reason Shaw decided to go along, or at least that's what she told herself.

"Who is Greer?" Claire questioned, snapping Shaw out of her trail of thoughts.

"He's the head of your sweet Samaritan's dictator army…" Shaw paused for a while, understanding how little Claire really knew, and yet how relentless she had been in joining Samaritan's cause. "You really have no idea what is really going on, do you?"

Claire kept staring at her, mouth shut, forehead muscles tightened. She didn't answer. She had no answer. How would she? She had no idea what that woman was referring to. All she knew was that Samaritan swore to protect her, and it hadn't failed yet, at least, not until that day, and that the task she was developing was to protect lives, to help, to give structure and stability to mankind. That's what He had told her, and she had never doubted it for a second. Shaw shook her head at the lack of an answer.

The hours passed, the empty beer bottles increased in the small centre table by Shaw's adopted armchair. She had already called Finch, assuring him that they were fine, telling him what happened to Root and mentioning that they had Claire. When she mentioned the name, she felt Finch shift abruptly in his seat. A million questions had followed, some of which Shaw didn't know what to answer. If only Root was awake so that she could be the one having to listen to Finch… She rushed the conversation, telling him that only after Root recovered they'd be able to know what this was really about, reassuring him that they didn't need help and that Root would be fine. Finch was almost questioning her medical capabilities, and that irritated her. With a quick "I'll call you again tomorrow" she hung up on him.

After taking Claire to the bathroom, monitoring her every second, Shaw cuffed her to the same place again and turned off the single lamp light that lit the living room. She then moved her armchair closer to the couch where Root was laying, sideways so that she wouldn't turn her back on Claire and close enough to the couch that she could check Root's pulse by merely stretching her arms forward to reach her neck. She did it one last time, relieved to find Root's pulse normal and her breath steady, only then she let herself recline on the chair.

As the first ray of sunlight entered the rectangular windows of the living room Root woke up. She took a minute to realize where she was, what had happened, to even remember that she had a bullet wound in her abdomen. That last one she only remembered due to the acute pain that spread from it. She tried to sit up on the couch but that otherwise simple task was now unbearable. She hissed in pain, letting herself relax against the cushions again. Then she noticed Shaw by her side, sunken in the armchair, sleeping. The hacker grinned at Shaw's adorable face, her mouth slightly open, head resting on one hand, one foot on the chair, knee up, falling to the same side as her head, her other hand resting on the crooked leg.

Root bit her lip as she watched Shaw sleeping. She looked so peaceful, so calm, and yet so deadly. Root stretched her arm, thinking about caressing Shaw's hand. She was only inches away from touching Shaw's skin with her fingers, but she wavered, reconsidering her actions. She swallowed hard, withdrawing her hand back to herself. What if Shaw woke up with her caressing her hand? Why risk another gun shot?

Instead, Root tried to prop herself up again. She gasped in pain once more, and this time Shaw actually woke up, prompting herself up from the armchair and pushing Root back down.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Keep your ass still!" Shaw grumbled.

"I just want to sit up." Root said receiving a death stare from Shaw.

"What you want is to stop moving! You were shot, remember?" Shaw argued.

Root tilted her head slightly, curving her lips up in a smile.

"I've survived worse."

It was true, but the comment wasn't appreciated by Shaw and Root noticed it, so she obeyed Shaw's order to remain lied down on the couch. She was sure Shaw was going to say something in return, but for some reason she simply shook her head.

"Did you save the bullet? I want to make it into a necklace." Root joked.

Shaw reached for a cloth on the center table, four metal fragments, stained with blood and tissue laying on it.

"You can make four and offer them to your future kids." Shaw said and Root's smile widened.

The hacker removed the blanket that Shaw had covered her with halfway to the side and looked down at herself, her bloody shirt cut all the way from the bottom to the hem of her bra, her jacket basically covered in dry blood just like the couch cushions. But her torso was clean, the white dressing neat on her wound, only dotted by a small circle of red in the middle on the cotton white. Root smiled at the thought of Shaw cleaning and patching her up and she almost cursed herself for having lost consciousness.

When she spotted the blood stain through the dressing, Shaw came closer to Root, standing with one knee on the floor, by the couch.

"Let me have a look at it." Shaw requested.

Root's muscles tensed involuntarily when Shaw's fingers contacted the bare skin around the dressing. The sudden contraction causing a jolt of pain to spread in Root's abdomen and she hissed. Her muscles relaxed after a brief moment as Shaw pilled off one side of the dressing to check if the wound was still bleeding.

Root bit down her bottom lip, a cheeky smile forming in her mouth.

"I always imagined the first time your hands were in me a little bit differently." Root said, purposely emphasizing the word in. She let the innuendo linger for a moment before continuing. "But I guess it was not that bad to have a doctor around."

Shaw stared at her, her gaze threatening. Root chuckled lightly, understanding that it was better to lay off.

"I presume I'm not allowed to shower, but can I have new clothes at least?"

"I didn't take off your clothes because I'm pretty sure you didn't bring any spares… and I'd have hurt you, probably… so I decided it was best to just let you sleep with those on." Shaw said, her eyes not adverting her tasks of covering Root's wound again after making sure it was not bleeding.

"There are clothes in the bedroom's drawers." Root simply said, grinning. Shaw looked at her momentarily before getting up and walking into the house's main bedroom to look for something that Root could wear. Root's smile widened when Shaw brought a grey hoodie, holding it up in her hand for Root to see. It was a bit too big for her, but it would have to do.

"Can I sit up now and get changed, doctor?" Root asked, her voice playful like she did almost every time she wanted to mess with Shaw's temper. And as usual, Shaw was not amused by her tone.

Shaw helped Root sit up, slowly, trying to minimize Root's abdominal efforts, because she knew those would hurt her whilst sitting up. Even with Shaw's help, sitting up proved to be a quite hard and very painful task.

The wounded woman tried to remove her jacket by herself but Shaw immediately intervened, pulling the leather sleeves out of Root's thin arms, one at a time and then cutting the rest of Root's shirt to her neck and pulling it off of her too.

Root started to feel a little too exposed as she stood almost half naked in front of Shaw. She tried to hide away the feeling but she was almost sure her cheeks were betraying her, especially when Shaw took longer than necessary before helping her put the oversized hoodie on. During those few seconds, Root wanted desperately to look into Shaw's eyes and try to read them, but she was scared that her own eyes would reveal more than she wanted if by any chance they'd meet Shaw's halfway. So she just looked at the hoodie's embroidered sports logo while she waited for Shaw to give it to her.

When she was finally redressed, Root regained courage to look into Shaw's eyes. Their gazes locked for a moment. The silence that settled in the house was dense and but soothing. Root stared into her own hands, opening her mouth to say something, but the words took a while to come out. She stared into Shaw's eyes again before she could finally speak, her voice deprived of any playfulness this time, but rather filled with honesty.

"Thank you Sameen."

Shaw nodded her head faintly, bringing one hand to gently squeeze Root's upper arm, her touch quick but caring.

"Just try not to get shot so often, will you?"

Root smiled.

Shaw then walked away to get something for them to eat. Milk and a few snacks that she had bought from the liquor store. Only when both of them finished eating Shaw decided that it was time to wake Claire up. She was still sleeping in what seemed the most uncomfortable position ever.

Root watched Claire in silence while Shaw handed her some food that she promptly ate. Shaw sat back in the armchair she had spent the night in. She looked from Root to Claire, waiting for one of them to start talking, but it was taking too long for it to happen, and Shaw wasn't great with patience in times like that.

"Okay, so what about you girls explain to me what this is about. Root, will you do the honors?" Shaw asked whilst resting her elbows on her things, looking at Root.

Root kept staring at Claire, grinning when Shaw finished her question, but the smile wasn't genuine, it was ironic.

"It's funny how I can see so much of me in you, Claire." Root said, leaving Shaw's question unanswered for now. But she'd get there eventually. Claire furrowed her brows. "The difference is that we're playing on the opposite side of the chessboard." Root continued.

Claire suddenly seemed to understand.

"Tell Shaw here what Samaritan recruited you for." Root suggested.

"There aren't two players in this." Claire replied, still referring to Root's chess analogy.

"Oh that's where you're wrong. There are. Although Samaritan is using you to try to get rid of the competition."

Shaw was also starting to understand, and as Root kept explaining everything, she understood her rush to abduct Claire.

Samaritan had kept Claire away from Greer and everything else, instead training her to defeat several AI's. Like in a game, Claire would be challenged to fight increasingly more complex artificial intelligences, winning when she completely destroyed them. And Claire had succeeded on defeating all of them until a couple of nights before that day, when Samaritan engaged her in the final stage – to destroy the Machine. Claire had prepared her strategy, studied the code, planned the attack, developed her arsenal, but she had failed. And that was when the Machine alerted Root to what Claire was being used and told Root to capture her.

"I'm doing this to protect Samaritan from threats that are trying to stop Him from giving this world stability and protection, like it gives me." Claire argued.

Root couldn't help but to chuckle at the use of the masculine pronoun. She shook her head.

"Samaritan doesn't want to protect the world, Claire, it wants to be its ruler. You joined the wrong god. A god that only wants power, nothing else. But She believes you can still see what's right in the middle of all that's wrong, and change."

"She?" Claire asked confused, looking from Root to Shaw for an instant.

"The Machine. The one you couldn't even scratch. She believes in you." Root replied, her features and her voice severe and resolute.

Chapter Text

A/N: It is finally here! I'm sorry for the extremely long pause. I know, it's unforgivable. And I hope that some of you still remember where I left this and are willing to pick it up again. The truth is, If-Then-Else hit us hard like a heavy truck and my brain got really affected by it, so much that it wasn't letting me continue this story. It finally seems to have recovered. So, I won't take any more of your time. I hope this chapter makes it up for the long wait. Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you thought.

Fifteen days had passed since Root and Shaw captured Claire from under Samaritan's grip. With help from John, they managed to leave the house they had found refuge in and return to the abandoned subway station a few days after the incident. Root had recovered rather quickly, although some swift motions still hurt, a lot.

Whilst she was still recovering, Root would stay in the subway watching over Claire and helping the rest of team as they found and saved numbers from the hell that Samaritan was still making of New York City. Meanwhile, their plan was to show Claire the big picture; the side she didn't know of her protector; and although she hadn't said anything, Root knew that Claire was starting to doubt herself, to doubt Samaritan's real intentions, to rethink her link with the AI. Root hadn't pushed much though, choosing to let Claire figure where she wanted to stand on her own. If it was Root in Claire's shoes, she knew it wouldn't be with other people's words that she'd change her belief in the Machine. She didn't think nothing would ever make her doubt the Machine, but it certainly wouldn't be words or promises. She remembered that time Greer tried to persuade her, how for a brief second she doubted herself, but how quickly she discarded the idea. Nonetheless she hoped that by seeing the real intents of Samaritan and the good that the Machine was bringing to the world, that maybe like that, Claire would reconsider.

Shaw had stayed put the longest she could, but she would eventually get too bored and anxious by staying down there and she would beg Harold and John to let her help them out with the numbers. So far it had worked out fine. Shaw would use the shadow map to stay away from Samaritan and its agents, and when she had to jump out of it, she would use her skills to keep her face hidden from any cameras. Root knew that they were just being lucky, too lucky if she was to be honest. She also knew that having Sameen grounded would be almost as dangerous as letting her walk freely outside.

Now it was time for Root to leave the nest too. She felt she didn't need any more time to recover, and apparently the Machine thought so too, once She had just whispered a new number in her implant. Finch was in the subway with her and Claire, while John and Shaw were out. She thought of the two of them shooting kneecaps and knocking down doors and she wondered the next time she'd be able to have some fun alongside Shaw again. She put the thought aside when the Machine buzzed some more details on her next task. She informed Finch that she had to go and he nodded although he was a bit reluctant with the idea.

"Take care of her." Root said with a smile, motioning to Claire with one wobbly finger.

When she reached the street the cold air of New York's night welcomed her. She inhaled deeply, the freezing air tightening her lungs. She looked up at the dark sky, blurred by the city lights, before walking in the direction the Machine sent her.

Root had been sitting at the bar's counter for an hour already. The spot she was occupying enabled her to keep an eye on her number at all times. But a good looking woman in a leather jacket, alone, at 1 am in a bar also enabled a lot of unwanted guests to annoy her. She was glad that for some reason the young bartender seemed to understand that she didn't want to be bothered and actually helped her get rid of some of the annoying guys.

She still hadn't found out what was the deal with her number. Why he had been sitting in that bar, with two other seemingly ordinary men, for more than an hour. Up until then, the only threat she could see coming was their own boredom. But she had to be the Machine's eyes once there were no cameras inside that place.

Root asked the bartender for a mojito and it didn't take him long to hand her the drink. As he did, a muscled man, in his early thirties sat on the stool beside Root blatantly looking at her with his best attempt of a seductive smirk. Root smiled back at him, her smile more sarcastic than anything else, but he didn't seem to understand it.

"So, what is a girl like you doing alone in here this late?" He asked.

Boring pickup lines. She thought.

"I'm waiting for a friend." Root answered, sipping on her drink before glaring back at her admirer with an uninterested look. But again, he didn't seem to understand it. Instead, he unexpectedly came nearer, getting up from his stool and invading her personal space too quickly. Her first instinct was to grab the taser hidden in her pocket and press it on his torso.

"If you want a new friend just let me know." He whispered to close to her ear whilst leaving a piece of paper with his phone number on the counter, next to her drink, before stepping back with a smile.

Root eased the grip on the taser when she watched him retreat, just smiling back at him until he turned his back to her. She glanced at the handwritten numbers and rolled her eyes, crumpling the piece of paper and throwing it to the floor beside her.

After drinking a few more gulps from her drink, Root started to feel that something was wrong. She looked at the blond guy with his two friends still sitting in the same place that they had been since she got there, everything was still fine with them. But something was wrong - with herself. Root looked at the drink between her hands as she felt her heart beating a little faster, the blood flowing to the extremities of her body, her body temperature increasing slightly and her head starting to feel light.

She knew what was happening. She put her instincts on maximum alert and looked around the bar to see where her friend from a few minutes earlier was. And she spotted him, on the opposite end, dancing and laughing with a couple of friends.

Damn it.

She looked back at her guy before asking the Machine to connect her with the subway hideout.

"Harold?" She asked when the call was connected.

But it wasn't his voice on the other end, and it brought a smile to her face. "Finch has gone home already. What do you want Root?" It was Shaw.

"Oh nothing really," She said ironically. "I just may or may not need a hand here."

There was a short silence in the line before Shaw spoke again.

"Root, where are you?" Her tone was not a worried one but rather intrigued. Shaw's discernment was sharp, of that Root had no doubt, but she wondered if the other woman had already noticed that something was off only by her voice.

"At a bar."

"Are you drunk?" Shaw asked, annoyed.

Root chuckled, feeling herself more lightheaded with every second that passed. This seemed so funny for no apparent reason. "No. But I'm pretty sure this hot guy managed to slip something into my drink that is kind of blurring my judgment and I'm having conflicting feelings on whether I should kill him or not." She said. "And I may need your help in saving a number in the meantime, I'm not sure my aim will be accurate." She added after watching a couple of large men entering the bar and joining the table where her number was.

"Just – don't shoot anyone. Tell me where you are and I'll be there ASAP." Shaw said.

When she arrived at the entrance of the bar where Root said she was, Shaw immediately knew there was trouble inside as she saw a couple of guys dragging another one out by the arms.

Shaw quickened her pace and got inside, finding Root as soon as she did. The taller woman was now holding a familiar taser in one hand and a gun up in the other, pointing it at a table where three men stood with their arms up whilst two others growled in pain on the floor.

"Sam!" Root exclaimed, with more excitement than normal, as soon as she noticed Shaw. "Do you mind? My arm is getting tired." She added with a pout whilst tilting her head slightly at the gun in her hand.

Shaw walked further, untucking her own gun from her belt and raising it in the same direction Root was pointing at, but glancing around the place questioningly before actually paying attention to what she was supposed to be targeting, watching the scared bartender not far from where Root was, his hands shaky.

"Why did you take so long? You left me no choice but to shoot them. And I told you my aim could be erroneous." Root said as she lowered the gun in her hand and handed it to the bartender. Shaw furrowed her brows, looking from Root back to the guys crooked on the floor, noticing one of them grabbing his crotch while crying. Her eyes opened wide.

"Did you just shoot him – in the balls?" Shaw asked in disbelief.

Shaw watched as Root lingered a few feet and sat down in the stool, slightly losing her balance when she grabbed the counter with sloppy hands to make herself turn in the seat. She just answered with a shrug.

Shaw couldn't avoid the chuckle that escaped her mouth and shook her head at Root, this was somehow pretty hilarious. Root was clearly high. And Shaw was pretty sure the guy that she saw being dragged out of the bar was the guy that drugged her. She could bet he had been tased, counting on the device in Root's left hand.

"They are part of a small terrorist cell and they were using this bar to make secret meeting and set their next plans. Hank here," Root said, pointing at the bartender, "was glad to lend me a gun… Well, he didn't exactly lent it to me, I just knew he had it under the counter." She added with a silly smile.

"I guess you don't really need my help after all." Shaw said whilst trying to contain herself from laughing at the way Root was talking, the words coming out of her mouth slower and requiring more effort to ramble from her tongue due to whatever was flowing in her veins.

Root looked at Shaw tenderly, her lips curving up in one side more than the other. "I guess not, but it's always nice to have you looking out for me, Sameen."

Shaw didn't enjoy the implication in the words – that she came because she worried what might happen to Root.

"Let's get out of here." Root said as she stood from her stool and walked past Shaw towards the exit, bumping softly against the smaller woman's shoulder – if it had been intentional or not, Shaw wasn't quite sure. "The cops are on their way."

Shaw glanced one last time at the guy on the other side of the counter, holding the gun up with mortified eyes. She then turned around and headed to the exit as well, where Root was leaning against the door, holding it open for her.

Shaw followed Root down the street of bar and clubs after they left. Root was more like jumping around rather than walking normally and it only annoyed Shaw even more.

Eventually she turned around, facing Shaw and placing her hands on Shaw's shoulders.

"You look like you need a drink. We should go get a drink, together. Don't you think?" She asked, giving a gently squeezing Shaw's arms before turning and walking away again.

"No, we shouldn't." Shaw replied quickly, but it didn't make Root stop. "Root, where are you going? We have to go back. I left Bear ready to attack Claire if she as much as moved an inch." She stopped her sentence halfway as she saw Root looking at her over her shoulder with a huge grin on her face, defiant, and then walked inside a club.

Shaw growled, shaking her head before following Root inside. The music was loud and the air was thick from smoke and human transpiration.

"C'mon, what are you doing?" Shaw asked, grabbing Root's forearm and forcing her to pay attention to what she was saying. Suddenly, Shaw seemed to have all of Root's attention, except maybe not on what she was saying. She noticed Root's eyes on her lips and then a slick hand touching, wrapping around her waist, pulling them just a bit closer.

"Root." Shaw scowled, placing a deep warning in her voice. But it didn't stop Root from pulling closer and lowering her head slightly in a quick but precise motion to capture Shaw's lips. Shaw merely had time to turn her face to the side to prevent the kiss, Root's mouth finding her cheek instead, kissing the skin tenderly, as if not that unhappy with the second option.

Shaw lifted her hands to Root's shoulders, pushing her away. Root looked back into the other woman's eyes as she fought Shaw strength and stepped closer again. Shaw stared back at her, her manner so deadpan that any person in their right mind would not push it anymore. But Root wasn't any person, and definitely not in her right mind, certainly not then.

"What is it, Shaw?" Root asked sheepishly in Shaw's ear as her hands continued to slither up and down Shaw's sides and back, between her jacket and the thin black shirt the smaller woman was wearing. Whatever was flowing on her blood was giving her the courage she never actually had to do anything other than boldly flirting with Shaw.

Root brought one hand to cup Shaw's face, and for some reason Shaw didn't shove her away this time. Closing her eyes for a brief moment when Root's lips found the sensitive spot in her neck just below the jawbone, the tip of her warm tongue licking the skin in between softly, Shaw cursed her body for actually enjoying the attention. Maybe that was the reason why she hadn't really pushed Root away…

Shaw reopened her eyes.

"This is not going to happen, Root." Shaw said, the words not sounding as convincing as she intended, though. She grabbed Root's upper arms with firm hands, her anger building up in the tightened muscles.

"Why not Shaw? Why can't you just give in? Just once." Root asked. Her fingers dared dangerously to the hem of Shaw's shirt whilst she aimed for Shaw's lips with her own again. But once again Shaw dodged Root's onrush. She grabbed Root's delicate hands then, squeezing them a little too tight. Root gasped.

"Root," Shaw glared into the taller woman's eyes. "You're high as a kite. And there is no way this is going to happen". Root watched the words being sculpted by Shaw's lips. Somehow those last few coming out sharp and hurting a little.

"So, shall we go now?" Shaw finished, her gaze blank and rigid.

Root lowered her head in defeat and stepped back. When Root looked back at Shaw a smile dared on her lips.

"Maybe someday you'll understand that you don't have to put those walls up with me all the time and that you can just enjoy the moment, for a change." Root said, trying to stand her ground. She threw Shaw the best smirk she managed.

"Yeah, sure Root. Maybe someday." Shaw rumbled before turning around and heading to the exit.

Chapter Text

The following days had been busier than ever, a prologue for what was about to happen, really. Samaritan had been closing in on them, almost stepping on their toes. They almost didn't have time to breath between the four or five numbers the Machine sent them every day and it was all part of Samaritan's plan, Root was sure. Samaritan was intentionally putting people in danger to make them come out of the burrow, to hunt them down, more vigorously since they had something that had been Samaritan's - Claire.

Now, feeling the zip tie bruising her wrists, the tight grip of Greer's arm around her neck and the barrel of his gun cold against her temple, Root could only describe this moment as inevitable.

She looked at John and Shaw on the opposite side of the empty two way street, their gazes burning with a mix of concern and deep anger as they pointed their guns at Greer and at a dozen of Samaritan operatives on his flanks. Harold was behind his black knights, holding Claire by his side. His face was pure panic, and Root smiled for a fraction of a second at how cute he looked when he was scared.

"Give me the girl and I won't put a bullet throw your friend's brain." Greer spit out in his heavy British accent. "Should I even say friend? The truth is you still fear her more than you respect her. You still don't truly consider her part of your team, do you Mr. Finch?"

Root pursed her lips at the unexpected words that Greer was saying. She blinked the tears that threatened to form in her eyes as she looked at Harold, trying to find something in his eyes that denied the implication of the old man's words.

"Root is a better person than you've ever been or ever will be." Finch replied, and Root breathed out a smile.

"Well, she won't be for long." Greer added and Root felt the vibration of the metal as he cocked the hammer of his gun. "Give me the girl."

The tension in the seconds that followed was only amplified when Root spoke.

"Don't do it Finch. They'll do to her what they'll do to me. Don't do it!" She was almost yelling. Two stubborn tears fell down each side of her face.

Root looked at Shaw then, watching her adjust her grip on the gun in her right hand as she stared back at Root, uncomfortably. Root bit the inner side of her lip, thinking about how much she regretted never showing or telling Shaw how she really felt about her. Wondering why she had never had the courage to bring up the subject of that night in the club ever since.

But now there they were. There was no going back. And in that moment she was counting on Shaw's emotional detachment to do what she was about to ask her. For the first time in a long time she hoped that Shaw wouldn't care for her. That she would just worry about the mission.

Root took a deep breath, she straightened her features, her face turning cold and determined as she kept staring forcefully into Shaw's eyes.

"Shaw." She said, and she knew that by the tone in her voice and the look on her face Shaw would understand what she was asking her to do, given the current placement of the players in this "game".

Shaw looked confused at first, but Root saw the look on her face change from confusion to something else, a mixture of understanding, shock and disbelief, as she figured what was on Root's mind.

"Do it." She didn't actually say the words out loud, she just silently spoke then, letting Shaw read them on her lips.

It wasn't a good plan. Root wasn't even sure it was a plan at all, but it was the best she could think of. The Machine was silent in her ear, not telling her what their best chances were. But they needed Claire to defeat Samaritan. Claire had had contact with Samaritan's code. 'It's weaker than the Machine's and I know how to break it.' Claire had said. Root would rather die herself if it meant keeping their chance of destroying Samaritan and restoring the Machine's power once again. So she silently asked Shaw to take the shot.

Shaw shook her head faintly, her eyes opened wide still processing Root's request. Greer was using the taller woman as a shield. Of course Shaw didn't have a clear shot, so why was Root asking her to shoot? Why was Root asking her to shoot her? Shaw made the calculations in her mind, determining the spots where she could shoot so that the bullets would travel through Root's body and still enter Greer's flesh effectively. There wasn't any possibility that didn't imply a great risk of killing Root too in the process. She couldn't just do that.

"Shaw!" Root called again, a little harsher this time as she blinked another tear away.

Shaw swallowed hard. She remembered that night in the subway station, how she had wanted so deeply to carve her knife into Root's neck, how she had wanted so badly to hurt her. That time she wouldn't have mind killing Root, the anger blinding her. But now she was only angry at what Root was asking her to do.

"Do it!" The words were loud and clear this time.

Greer laughed and Root could feel his chest moving against her back as he did.

"Is that your plan sweetheart?" He asked in her good ear. "And then what? Do you think my agents won't kill them right after?"

"They can handle themselves, and Decima will have no leader. Samaritan will lose its general and we'll keep our wild card. Sound like a good enough plan for me." Root answered, keeping her voice firm despite the fear she actually felt, specially because her plan didn't in any way guarantee that the others would come out of it alive.

"Give us the girl and no one needs to die today." Greer shouted out to Harold and the others.

Root tried to move away from his grip but that only rewarded her with a blow on the back of the head with his gun's magazine. She growled in pain and her knees weakened, almost making her fall if it hadn't been Greer holding her up, tightening his grip on her neck so much that he was now blocking most of the air from entering her lungs.

"Don't believe in him!" Root exclaimed through painful coughs. "He will kill her the moment he has her!"

She stared desperately at each one of them. Claire had no more use for Samaritan. Now, converted to its enemy's side, Claire only represented danger to Samaritan's survival. And it would do to her what it did to its threats: eliminate them.

"Sameen! Pull the trigger!" She begged again. Why wasn't she doing it? She watched as Shaw's eyebrows raised up together, troubled. Root couldn't hold down a pained sob. She looked at John instead. Nodding her head at him in hopes that he would do what Shaw couldn't, but he didn't move either. She could see Harold looking at Claire, and the girl looking back at him. "You can't let this happen, Harold!"

Greer was losing his everlasting patience. His hand closed around Root's throat, the thumb pressing hard on the soft spot between the neck's muscles and the trachea, making her grit her teeth to prevent a loud cry from escaping.

"Give me the girl or I will kill her!" Greer said one last time. Shaw and Reese gave on step forward as Root gasped for air. In response, Martine and Lambert stepped forward too on Greer's side.

Claire shoved Harolds hands away from her, walking forward.

"Enough already!" The girl spoke up. "It's me that you want, leave her be!"

"Claire…" Harold scowled, trying to stop her, but failing at it. John tried to grab her too when she walked past him and Shaw, but Claire managed to escape from his big hand.

Root started screaming at them, begging Claire to stop, asking Harold, Shaw and John to grab her. But they didn't try anything else. She met Shaw's eyes again, the stare turning into a fight of unsaid words and unanswered commands. She knew they would regret this.

"Claire, stop! They will kill you!" Root tried to dissuade her, but she knew that look on Claire's eyes. Determination. She was not going to stop now.

Claire walked up to where Greer and Root were standing.

"That's a clever girl." He said.

Claire looked up at Root, the tears in her eyes telling Root that she knew what her fate was going to be. Root closed her eyes and shook her head. This was not the plan.

Greer released his grip on Root, still pointing the gun at her head. And then, unexpectedly, Claire hugged her. The moment was just a few seconds long, once Martine started pulling Claire away from her, but it was long enough. Whilst hugging Root, Claire used the proximity to tap her finger repeatedly in Root's back with two different interspersed intensities. Morse code. Root looked into Claire's eyes as Martine pushed her away, nodding slightly at her to tell her she had understood the message.

Then Root felt someone kick the back of her knees forcefully. She fell forward as her legs failed to stand due to the hard blow, she lifted her zipped wrists to the level of her face to prevent herself from hitting the floor headfirst. She looked back and watched as Greer and Martine took Claire to one of the SUV's parked behind them, Lambert taking the wheel. But instead of pushing her inside first, they left her out and entered.

"No!" Root cried as Martine stretched her arm out of the car's window and pulled the trigger. Claire's skull shattered with a spray of blood and brain fragments. The girl's body fell backwards, inanimate on the floor, while the SUV accelerated away, followed by three others filled with Samaritan operatives.

Chapter Text

The drive back was silent. Root leaned uncomfortably in the backseat, her forehead pressed against the car's window as she watched the buildings fly by, not bothering to focus her sight on any particular thing. She could sense Shaw looking at her through the rear view mirror every now and then. Root clenched her teeth and pursed her lips, frustrated at how they had let it happen. How she had let this happen. Harold tried to place his hand on her shoulder once, his gesture apologetic, but Root just flinched away from the touch. She didn't need comfort or pity from him. She needed him to support her, to believe her more, and he had failed once again. She remembered Greer's words. 'You still fear her more than you respect her.' She blinked quickly a few times, trying to dissipate the waterworks threatening to flood her eyeballs.

John had stayed behind, waiting for Fusco to show up so they could treat the scene as a homicide and retrieve Claire's body from the icy gray street.

Harold, Shaw and Root walked into the old and abandoned subway station, the lights dim as usual. Bear trotted his way up to them, his tail wiggling at first, but stopping when he sensed something was wrong. Clever dog, Root thought.

Root stood in the middle of the station, watching absently as Shaw patted Bear on the head, ruffling his fur for a long minute.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Root tried to keep herself from bursting out accusations. She kept staring at Shaw while Harold was in the subway car, putting down his bag and his coat, and she couldn't stop herself any longer. The feeling of betrayal clasping around her throat until she opened her mouth.

"Why didn't you do it, Shaw?" The tone in her voice surprising herself. She wanted it to sound mad and solid but it only sounded broken and wounded.

Shaw looked up at her, retrieving her hands from Bear who whined faintly in protest. Shaw didn't say anything in return and that only irritated Root even more, how she was just standing there, analyzing Root's traits without answering her question.

"Why didn't you shoot him?" Root repeated and this time her voice and her glare radiated anger.

Shaw turned her palms out, shrugging slightly as she looked at her, questioningly, with lifted eyebrows.

"What was I supposed to do? Risk killing you too?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you were supposed to have done!" Root shouted.

Shaw started to fume with irritation.

"I didn't just save your sorry ass a couple of weeks back to kill you today!"

Hearing them yell, Harold walked to the entrance of the subway car, trying to think of a way to calm down the waters, but not sure how nor when to intervene, so he just stood there, his mouth slightly open.

"What if it was me, Root?" Shaw asked, giving two steps forward in Root's direction. "What if it was me asking you to shoot. Would you have done it?" She added, pointing a finger at Root's face.

Root cracked, two tears sliding down her face as she shoved Shaw's finger away.

"No, but that's different!" Root answered, wiping the stubborn tears away as soon as they fell.

Shaw shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, visibly peeved. "How is it any different, Root?" She barked.

"Because I – care for you!" Root said immediately, almost choking on the phrase when some other word threatened to roll out of her tongue. An involuntary closed fist swung up in a swift motion and pressed on Shaw's chest, just below her collar bones, without discharging its stored energy, though.

She looked deeply into Shaw's eyes before looking away into the cold floor of the subway station, the energy in her fist dissipating into a weak push that barely made Shaw stagger.

"You are not supposed to care." Root added, still not daring to look back into Shaw's face.

Through the corner of her eye she could see that Sameen was hesitating on what to say next. The smaller woman's hand waving up and down as she internally dueled with her next words.

But it was Harold who eventually spoke.

"Ms. Groves, there was nothing we could do to prevent the outcome of today's events. One way or the other, this would have been a lost battle."

Root turned at him.

"Yes there was a way to prevent the outcome, Harold! If only you had trusted me," she spat. "All of you!" She added, looking towards Shaw as she spoke the words. Turning on her heels, she headed to the exit of the hideout without another word.

When she reached the cold air of New York City, Root started walking without even bothering to know where she was going. She would just walk away until the Machine whispered directions in her ear to some place where she could stay for the night.

"Root, stop!" A familiar voice said loudly behind her, causing her to stop suddenly. It was Sameen. She lowered her head slightly, thinking about turning around and facing the other woman, but decided not to, resuming her pace almost as suddenly as she had stopped.

Shaw sighed loudly behind her. And then a strong hand grabbed her arm and swung her around.

"Hey. Snap out of it, Root!" Shaw said. Root's slightly blood-shot eyes finding hers. "This wasn't your fault, nor mine, nor Harold's!"

Root could feel her chest burning. She hadn't felt so angry and hurt in a long time, even when she was almost dying in the couch of someone's house not even a month back.

She found herself staring at Shaw's full lips once again, and she had to force herself to look away, biting on her lower lip as she tried to steady her beating heart, her gaze locking on a small glowing piece of broken glass on the sidewalk.

"Claire told me something before they killed her." Root said after taking a deep breath. "When she hugged me."

Shaw let go of Root's arm. Even without looking at her face, Root could see the change in Shaw's features, suddenly surprised and puzzled.

"My building. Under the third step." Root verbalized Claire's message.

"Why didn't you say that before?" Shaw asked.

Root shrugged.

"I wanted to check it out first."

Shaw scolded her. Arguing at how unwise Root was being for thinking to go back there alone. Root kept staring at the small piece of glass on the floor. She sighed when Shaw finally stopped rebuking her.

Silence fell between them for a few never-ending seconds, only cut by the sound of people's bustle and cars roaring on the roads nearby. Root felt Shaw's impatience building up, so she decided to add her voice to the background noise.

"Why didn't you shoot?" Root faintly asked Shaw again. She didn't want to look at Shaw, didn't want to see the mesh of anger and exasperation in her eyes. She just waited for Shaw to snap and walk away.

But Shaw didn't.

More silence.

"I do care, Root." Shaw finally said and Root lifted her eyes from the floor, meeting Shaw's, unsure she had heard the correct words. Pleading to hear them once more. And as if understanding this plead, Shaw spoke again.

"I do care for you."

Root felt the blood leaving her heart as it seemed to stop pounding against her chest. She opened her mouth slightly as the air got caught in her airways. Had Shaw just admitted she cared for her?

Shaw stepped closer, and Root tried to process what was happening, her brain suddenly too cloudy to work properly. Shaw's hand found her arm again. Not grabbing. Just touching.

Shaw was so inevitably close that Root's eyes betrayed her again, fluttering to Sameen's lips for a fraction of a second before she forced them up again to meet the other woman's glowing dark orbs.

"I do care for you." Shaw repeated, making sure that Root had understood what she had said before, letting her know she meant it, bluntly.

As Shaw's hand glided around her neck and pulled her closer, Root simply closed her eyes tightly, waiting to wake up at any second. But she never did. Instead, the warmth of Shaw's lips met hers, merely brushing at first, then collapsing in a tender and craved kiss.

Chapter Text

Root's world slowed down in that moment as the heat of Sameen's lips spread onto hers. She had wanted this for so long, dreamt about it so many times. However, this didn't feel right.

She lifted her hands to Shaw's shoulders, but instead of pulling the other woman closer and kiss her back, Root pulled her away, breaking the link between their lips. Root turned her head to the side, tilting it down a bit, her chin almost touching her own shoulder. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, not wanting to see the look on Shaw's face. Afraid of whatever she'd find there.

"I know what you're doing Shaw." Root said, forcing a sarcastic smile.

Shaw was taken aback by Root's reaction.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Shaw asked, offended.

Root remembered that day when Shaw's cover was blown. When Shaw discovered that Reese was working on saving Elias and she wanted so badly to go and help him. She remembered how Shaw acted to get the information she wanted from Root, how Shaw tried to use Root's feelings for her to get it from her.

Root chuckled sadly.

"You want me to include you in my plan of action." She lifted her eyes to meet Shaw's then.

With raised eyebrows, Shaw stared at her, unsure of what to say. What Root had said wasn't exactly wrong, she did want to be included in Root's plans, but she hadn't kissed her to achieve that.

"That's not – I mean…" Shaw stuttered.

The hacker let out another stifled chuckle before turning her back on Shaw.

"Good night, Sameen."

Shaw watched as she walked away.

"Root, come on!" Shaw called out, but Root didn't look back. With a sigh, Shaw paced back into the subway station, rubbing the back of her hand violently against her forehead, frustrated.

As she approached the street behind Claire's apartment building, alone, Root felt the knot in her throat tighten. She stopped on the sidewalk where she had once been laying. Her blood wasn't there anymore, but she knew that was the exact spot.

Numbly, Root looked around as if expecting Shaw to appear by her side, even though she hadn't invited her to join. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it down as she remembered the night before; Shaw's lips on hers, that firm hand on her neck… The butterflies started flying in her chest, and she forced herself to shove the thoughts away, to the back of her mind.

She took a deep breath and resumed her way into the building, the street cameras in the vicinity already taken care of.

My building. Under the third step.

Root remembered Claire's message as she entered the building. She walked up the stairs and reached Claire's apartment door. Holding her gun in one hand, Root opened the door and checked the apartment carefully. After verifying that there was no one there, Root searched the place. Claire's computers, servers and all the things that filled the apartment before were now gone. Samaritan operatives had probably retrieved them. She looked for stairs, but the apartment was not a duplex and didn't have any. Root frowned.

My building.

Claire had never said apartment. There weren't stairs there but there were in the building. Root shook her head at her own lack of perspicacity. She walked back outside of the apartment and down the stairs, sitting down on the second step as she gazed at the third.

She studied the marble stone, hitting her knuckles on it and doing the same to step above. The sound was different, like behind the third step was an empty space. She grinned.

Taking a screwdriver from her jacket pocket, Root tried to find a way to displace the marble, but it wasn't really producing any effect.

"Do you need a hammer?"

Root was startled by the unexpected, but familiar, voice. She sighed after her instincts acknowledged that there was no threat there.

"You really can't stay away from me, can you?" Root retorted, putting on her best smirk when she turned to face Shaw, standing behind her with a hammer in her right hand.

Shaw scolded her with her gaze. "Just checking if you need a hand, which you clearly do."

"I can handle -" Root started, but Shaw cut her off.

"Yeah, yeah. You know, I'm usually the stubborn one so, just move aside, will you?" Shaw said, a rare smile on her features as she held the hammer up in her hands.

Root pursed her lips, containing her own grin as she tilted her head forward slightly, consenting with Shaw's demand.

Standing up and moving to the base of the stairs to grant Shaw enough space to maneuver, Root watched as the other woman swung the hammer backwards and then forward, the hard head of the tool thudding against the cold stone, breaking it into pieces and dust. Shaw repeated the action three more times before putting down the hammer and starting to move the broken pieces of marble to the side. Root kneeled down beside her, looking at the hole formed in the step. Inside of it was a hard-drive and a small notebook, whited by the dust. Shaw grabbed them, blowing the dust away and wiping off what remained with the back of her fingers before handing both items to Root.

Root turned the hard-drive in her hand for a while, then staring at the notebook on the other. She opened it but, as she was about to start reading what Claire had written, the Machine buzzed in her ear. Get. Out.

She didn't need any other encouragement.

"We have to leave. Now." She said whilst closing the notebook and standing up. Shaw followed her lead, as they ran out of the place, the Machine giving Root the needed instructions. They looked over their shoulder, when Claire's building was almost out of sight, and saw two black SUV's rounding the block. Luckily they didn't see them.

Shaw was disassembling her gun and putting everything back together as she observed Root studying the items they'd found in Claire's building. The hacker's eyes fixed on the laptop in front of her, the hard-drive connected to it, the notebook open between the desk and her left hand.

They were at Root's most recent identity's house. The place wasn't really big, just one bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen and a small living room, but it was cosy.

Shaw was starting to disassemble the gun for the fourth time when Root spoke up.

"You're not helping." Root said, staring at the gun pieces in Shaw's hands and then back into her eyes.

Shaw growled, but eventually let go of the metallic parts, resting them on the small table.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to distract you." She said, an annoyed tone in her voice.

"It's hard not to be distracted when you're around." Root teased, a grin in her face. But she quickly regretted her line and backtracked the playfulness, suppressing her grin and staring back at the computer screen. After all, Shaw had kissed her the night before, and Root wasn't sure of how to handle that occurrence. She wasn't sure what it meant or if something had changed. She wasn't sure if it was okay to keep the innuendos with Shaw.

Shaw didn't seem to notice her hesitation nor act any different from what was her usual response to Root's innuendos. And Root was somewhat thankful for that.

"Have you found anything interesting there, so far?" Shaw asked after a good half an hour.

Root shrugged. "This contains pretty much everything Claire did to defeat the A.I.s Samaritan put her up against through her recruitment," Root explained, as she kept fumbling the notebook in her hand and tapping on the laptop, "But, it's nothing that we can use agai-"

Root stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing and her mouth opening slightly. Shaw lifted her gaze at her then, intrigued by the sudden freeze.

"Root?" She asked in an attempt to snap Root back into talking. But Root's eyes kept wondering over whatever she was seeing on that screen, her expression changing millimetrically every second through as realization started to hit her.

Shaw got up and walked around the desk till she was standing beside Root. She looked at the computer in hopes of seeing something she'd understand and that would explain Root's behaviour, but the lines of code filling the black screen weren't really her language. She called Root again, more vigorously this time, asking to be filled in.

"Claire had assess to parts of Samaritan's code. To a tiny fraction of it, but still. It's all here. And her strategy to break the Machine too." Root started.

Shaw wasn't yet sure of what was the big deal about that, so she just waited for Root to continue.

"Remember when Claire said Samaritan's code is weaker than the Machine's?" Root asked, tilting her head up to find Shaw's.

Shaw nodded, and Root stared back into the laptop screen.

"Claire's plan was good. Only not good enough against the Machine." Root paused, a wicked smile appearing on her lips. "I think I can adapt it to be good enough against Samaritan."

Chapter Text

Shaw went to Root's fridge. She looked at the provisions inside, curling her top lip when she didn't find any alcohol in it.

"Don't you have anything to drink in here?" Shaw asked.

Root chuckled lightly.

"Tap water?" she suggested and she heard Shaw growl. The brunette emerged from the kitchen empty handed.

Root was staring at the bright laptop screen, not that she was reading anything on it, but her gaze froze on it while her brain worked on a plan.

"Shouldn't we call Finch and Reese, let them know what we found?" Shaw asked, standing in front of Root's desk, across from her. Root blinked as Shaw's voice interrupted her thoughts, but she didn't answer.

Shaw knew what that silent meant. Root didn't want to bring anyone else into her plan, probably not even Shaw, so she was recoiling. Shaw was sure that if the hacker continued in this trail of thought, she would try to do whatever needed to be done by herself.

Shaw rolled her eyes. She had seen this happened before.

"Root, tell me you're not considering the stupid possibility of doing whatever it is you're planning on doing alone." She paused, waiting for Root to look at her. "Because that's just not gonna happen."

Root stared at her for a while, before looking away in silence. Shaw was sure she was waiting for the Machine to tell her something, to tell her what to do, what would increase their odds of success. But from Root's disappointed expression, the Machine was probably not saying anything at all.

"I think it's better if I do this by myself." Root said, still looking away to some indefinite point of the far wall of the living room.

"Isn't it always?" Shaw retorted, sarcastically. "Maybe this time I won't be there to save you." She added before walking away from the desk, turning her back on Root.

Root didn't like the comment.

"Do I need to remind you of all the times I saved your life?" Root said, emphasizing the pronouns.

Shaw turned on her heels, placing both palm on the desk and leaning in, staring at Root with darting eyes.

"You or the Machine?"

Root tensed as the words hit her, her chin trembling slightly. Her glistening eyes locked with Sameen's.

"That is not fair." Root said.

"What? Did I strike a chord?" Shaw asked.

Root got up from her chair and turned away, ready to get as far from the other woman as possible. The aim of Shaw's words were to hurt her, and she had succeeded.

Shaw growled, she walked around the desk and grabbed Root's forearm, twisting it up, forcing her to turn around so they were face to face again. Root gasped.

"You're hurting me." Shaw said, but Shaw only tightened the grip on her forearm, standing closer. Too close.

Their eyes were locked. Even through the dim light of the living room, Root could see all the anger - and a trace of something else she couldn't quite identify - irradiating from Shaw's black orbs. She was finding it harder to keep her breath steady, but she tried to control it.

"What is it Shaw? Is this you trying to manipulate me again?" Root said venomously.

Shaw kept staring at her, wordless. Motionless. Her jaws clenched tight and her eyebrows pushed together, threatening.

Root managed a smirk, knowing that her smile was going to infuriate Shaw even more. She leaned in a bit closer.

"What is it that you want, Sameen?" Root enticed. "To kill me, or to kiss me?"

Shaw pursed her lips. She grabbed the collar of Root's jacket with her free hand, pulling the fabric of Root's shirt along, but before she had a chance to do anything else, a phone started ringing. It was Shaw's phone. She glanced one last time at Root before letting go of her and retreating to grab her phone.

Root composed herself, smirk still on, as she watched Shaw step away.

"Finch." Shaw said after picking up the phone. "Yeah, everything's fine." She put the phone on speaker and looked at Root. "Root's got something to tell you."

The next few days were spent at the subway station. After telling Finch what they had found they agreed to study the code in the safety of the subway.

Root and Finch would ramble computer stuff and Samaritan for hours every day. Reese and Shaw would just watch them from afar, thanking God every time the Machine gave them a number to handle, so that they wouldn't have to sit around, doing nothing, and hearing the nerds speak a foreign language.

Reese and Shaw were both occupying the subway car's blue seats, across from each other, cleaning their arsenal whilst Root was sitting on the other end of the car, behind the computers and wires on Harold's desk, typing on her laptop with the older man by her side. Shaw was disassembling a small handgun distractedly, her eyes lingering over Root's frame.

"You seem distracted." John denoted, looking at Shaw from the corner of his eye as he cleaned his own gun.

Shaw turned her head at him. She lifted one eyebrow in a silent "what?"

John chuckled blithely. "I remember you saying you were a pragmatist Shaw, however you seem to be putting a lot of doubt into some things lately."

Shaw kept deadpanning him, not saying a word, pretending to ignore his comment, when deep down she was chewing on the words, on what Reese meant by them. Shaw was a pragmatist indeed, she always took a practical approach to every situation, reasoning it, but not overthinking it, using people and things for what she needed without caring about side effects. Yet she had been overthinking a lot lately, about certain things, about a certain someone. Especially since that night, when Shaw admitted to Root she cared about her, when she had admitted to herself she cared about Root. When she kissed her. What led her to those words and actions, she didn't know. And now she wasn't sure how to deal with that reality. With the reality that she had felt something other than anger when she kissed Root.

"Kids." Root called, snapping Shaw out of her thoughts. "We have a plan."

Both of them paused the task at hand and got up, walking towards Root and Finch to hear what they had to say.

The plan seemed simple but at the same time dangerous. And while Root and Harold explained it, Shaw was actually disappointed with the endpoint.

"Wait, that means we're still not going to destroy Samaritan for good?" Shaw asked.

"Sameen, the game hasn't changed that much, we still don't have enough resources to bring Samaritan down." Root said.

"But with this we can disable Samaritan's ability to communicate with Decima and with anyone else while still letting it warn the Government to possible threats, in a way much like how the Machine did." Harold added.

Their plan was to plant a virus inside Samaritan's servers that would spread and change Samaritan's communication source code, crippling it, blocking it from communicating more than a single output, to a single destination - the pentagon. Samaritan would still operate in its entirety, watching everything and everyone, but it wouldn't be able to act or speak its artificial mind.

"Using a human analogy, this virus will cause a degeneration of Samaritan's motor neurons, it can't affect its cognitive functions, but it will cause a failure in Samaritan's speaking capacity." Harold explained.

"And won't it try to fight back and override this virus?" John asked.

Root and Harold exchanged a preoccupied glance.

"It will. And we will hope it won't be able to do so." Root answered with a weak grimace. "If we succeed, Samaritan will be unable to reshape the world. It will be unable to hunt down the Machine . We will set Her free again. You will be able to do your save the irrelevant numbers without worrying if Decima is after you. " Her smile evolved into a more powerful grin as she spoke.

Shaw shrugged in acceptance.

"Sound like it's worth giving it a try." Shaw said, pulling the slide of her handgun back and letting it go with a loud click.

Their plan was to ggo to the same facility that Root and Shaw had broken into almost a year before to produce the identity glitch for them four and Root's three other hackers, and plant the virus there. Harold stayed back in the subway station, monitoring everything from behind his computers. Reese, Shaw and Root were now on the top of the hill, staring down at the concrete structure from afar.

It was different since Root had last been there. There were more guards and security cameras protecting it.

There was no way they'd be able to get inside unnoticed this time. They had to use another tactic. Surprise and speed: Get in and get out as fast as possible before Samaritan could send more agents to kill them.

"Ready for some fun?" Root asked them, her eyes fixed on the facility the entire time.

"Thought you'd never ask." Shaw and Reese said in unison. They smiled at each other and started walking down the hill, Root in the middle, a gun in each hand, John by her left, carrying a rocket launcher on his shoulder and a machine-gun in his free hand, Shaw by her right, a grenade belt across her torso, two handguns tucked in the waistband of her black jeans as she held another machine-gun in her hands.

As they reached the fence that delimited the space around the buildings, John dropped on one knee, getting ready to fire his rocket. Shaw and Root covered their faces as John launched it, destroying the fence and the main gate of the facility. He dropped the barrel on the floor after, and the three of them ran inside, shooting every guard that crossed their path.

Once they reached the servers' room, Root placed her guns on a small table, took out her laptop and connected it into one of the main servers, starting to upload the virus as fast as she could. John and Shaw stayed at the entrance of the server room, one at each side of the door, taking down every guard that tried to intervene.

"Mr. Reese, Miss Shaw, there are Samaritan agents arriving the scene!" Harold warned them through their ear pieces.

"Root, how is that going?" John asked her as he rested the back of his head on the wall whilst a couple of guards fired a few bullets through the door entrance.

"You need to hold them a while longer." Root said.

John looked at Shaw, and she nodded, understanding what he meant without words. That's why Shaw liked working with John, they thought alike, read each other's minds like twins.

They advanced through the door, fearless, machine guns in hand, shooting down the remaining guards and moving to the broad hallway of the building they had exploded with the rocket. If they held the agents further back, it would be give them, and Root, more leeway to act after.

They spotted Greer's agents as they stepped inside the building. Martine leading the troops.

Shaw grinned when she saw her, fond of the idea of putting a bullet in Martine.

Samaritan's agents scattered, taking cover anywhere they could when Shaw threw two hand grenades at them.

The crossfire started immediately after. Shaw took down three agents, John four others. But there were still too many.

"Root, could you hurry up? We're gonna be out of ammo soon." Shaw yelled through the noise of fired bullets.

"A few more seconds, please." Root requested.

"John, Sameen, there is another group of agents entering through the back, they'll get to Miss Groves in seconds if no one stops them!" Harold informed them.

John exchanged another look with Shaw, silently asking her if she could handle Martine and her agents if we went to the back. Shaw nodded, and John hurried to the secondary entrance, taking a few borrowed grenades from Shaw.

Shaw resumed her task, aiming her machine-gun at two agents that tried to run towards her position, taking them down easily. There something wrong though. She couldn't spot Martine anywhere. She held her fire, in an attempt to lure Martine out of cover so that she could locate the blonde, but it didn't work. A few agents appeared from behind a pole, whom Shaw shot instantly, but there was still no sign of Martine.

Shaw threw her last grenade in the direction where she knew two agents were. She heard their cries as the grenade blew. She did her math, all agents that had come through the main door were down, except Martine. Taking a deep breath, Shaw dropped the machine gun and grabbed one of her handguns as she adventured out of cover, searching the space with her firearm ready to shoot at the slightest perceived movement.

That was when she felt something hard and cold against the back of her head. She pursed her lips realizing her mistake. Martine was behind her, holding a gun to her head.

"Hello, Shaw. It was about time for us to meet again." Martine said. Even without seeing her face, Shaw knew she had a smile on her lips. "Any last words?" The blonde added, cocking the hammer of her gun.

Chapter Text

"Any last words?" The blonde added, cocking the hammer of her gun.

Shaw closed her eyes, prepared. She then felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising and an odd confidence slowly building up. Even without seeing her, Shaw smiled.

"You missed." Shaw said.

Martine tilted her head at the unexpected words, narrowing her eyes. She didn't understand what the meaning behind what Shaw had said was, but she didn't care. The blonde adjusted the grip on her gun, ready to pull the trigger.

And then…

Bang.

Martine screeched as a bullet flew through her wrist, shattering bone, devouring skin and flesh. The impact of the bullet made Martine fire her own weapon, but it deviated her aim and gave time for Shaw to flinch away from the bullet's route. The blonde's gun fell to the floor when the pain in her wrist became too much for her to hold it. Whilst grabbing her wounded hand with the other, Martine stared at the point of origin of the injuring projectile.

Root was there, walking towards her with her sidearm still pointed forward.

"Told you." Shaw said.

Martine tried to reach for the gun on the floor with her unharmed hand, bending down to catch it, but she was forced back up by the knee that forcefully connected with her jaw, making her stumble backwards. She managed to stay upright, even with her head spinning from the recent blow from Shaw's knee.

Root was now beside Shaw. They were both aiming their guns at the blonde.

"So, now you're going to kill me?" Martine asked, smiling through clenched teeth. The sweat drops in her forehead glistening with the lights of the building as she eyed Root.

Root's smile hardened. She took a final step forward, ready to respond to the challenge, her gun aiming at Martine's forehead and her finger hot on the trigger. Before she could press it, Shaw's hand was on her arm, her eyes on her face. Root didn't look at Shaw, not daring to stray her eyes away from the blonde in front of her, but she furrowed her eyebrows, questioning. Shaw answered with a slight shake of the head that Root saw through the corner of her eye. She hesitated but eventually lowered her gun.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." John said as he appeared from the other room, limping. A bullet had grazed his right leg. Shaw looked at him, worried, but he shrugged it off. Seeing Martine defenseless and injured, John looked at Root and Shaw with a sardonic expression. "Lioness in distress?"

Root nodded lightly, with a wolfish look.

"As much as I'd like our foursome to continue," Root said to Martine. "You have more friends on the way that would ruin the fun. So, we'll get going. Tell your boss something though" she continued. "Good luck obeying a mute god."

Shaw finished patching up John's leg in the blue seats of the subway train. Harold and Root were on the platform.

"What do you think happens now?" John asked her, his gaze fixed on some indefinite point ahead, his expression rigid.

Shaw stared at him absently for a while, before finally answering with a sigh.

"I don't know. But I trust that she does."

She looked through the thick windows to where Root stood.

John nodded, without another word.

The subway hideout was wrapped in silence, only the faint and continuous sound of the generator buzzed on the background. They had all left, Harold had even taken Bear with him. But Shaw decided to stay, not that she needed to. She just wanted a moment, a moment to decide what to do. She rested her elbows on her legs as she sat down on one of the wooden benches of the subway station.

Root had been the first to leave. And Shaw found herself wondering where the other woman could have gone to. Would she still be in that same apartment as the other night? Or would The Machine have given her a new one by now?

Shaw shook her head. Why was she even asking herself those questions?

She let her head fall backwards and stared at the ceiling for a minute.

"Ah, screw this." Shaw said to herself, getting up from the bench.

She exited the subway station and walked all the way to Root's latest apartment. She had no clue if she'd find Root there. But for some reason she hoped she would.

Shaw stopped outside the door of Root's apartment. She heard movement. Root was there. She counted to three before knocking on the door. The sounds inside ceased suddenly. Then light footsteps came near the door from the other side. A second later, the door lock turned and Root opened it.

"Hi Sameen." Root said, a wide smile on her lips. "What do I owe the pleasure of your late-night visit?"

She left the door open and turned around, walking back into the darkness of the leaving room. The bedroom light was the only light on, and that was were Root walked into.

Shaw looked down the hallway, out of habit, before stepping inside the apartment, closing the door behind her, and slowly following Root.

When she reached the entrance to the small bedroom, Shaw's eyebrows furrowed. There was a suitcase opened on top of the bed and Root was casually putting the few clothes she had there inside of it.

"Are you moving?" Shaw asked.

Root stopped folding a dark blue blouse and looked at Shaw. "Yes." She simply said, resuming her task afterwards.

"New identity?" Shaw pushed.

"Something like that." Root answered vaguely, not stopping what she was doing this time.

"I thought you wouldn't need to do that anymore…" Shaw said, trying to get something more out of Root, trying to understand why she was leaving.

Root grabbed the last few shirts from the small dresser and placed them on top of the rest of her clothes inside the suitcase, zipping it shut. Only then she stared at Shaw again, her hand still on the suitcase, making her body bend to the side slightly, heightening the curve of her hips.

"Things have changed Shaw, but this war isn't over yet." She brushed her fingers along the top of the suitcase and Shaw's eyes involuntarily tracked the movement of her hand.

"You and the boys will be able to continue saving your numbers without Samaritan always around every corner," Root continued as she grabbed the suitcase's hand grip. "I, on the other hand, need to keep doing what The Machine tells me to." She said, walking past Shaw and into the living room, suitcase in hand.

Shaw followed without a word, her mouth slightly parted and her eyebrows pressed together.

"So," Root said with a faint grin as she let go of the suitcase to put on her black leather jacket. "Unless you have something to say - Goodbye, Shaw."

When Shaw didn't say anything else, Root nodded with a hint of disappointment. She turned around and grabbed the door handle to open the door. A sudden opposite force closed it again, a strong arm appeared beside her shoulder, palm flat against the door. A warm body brushing against her back.

"Wait." Shaw said in a husky vocal tone, keeping her hand firm on the door.

Root gasped slightly. Shaw then grabbed Root arm with her other hand, making Root turn around so that her back was against the wooden door.

Their eyes met and Root swallowed hard, finding herself trapped, too close to Shaw, merely the length of Shaw's upper arm separating them.

It would be the perfect time to throw a bunch of innuendos at Shaw, to piss her off and make her leave. But instead, the words seemed to get stuck in Root's throat whilst her eyes locked with Shaw's.

Shaw's lips parted slightly and Root couldn't help but stare at them, her heart rate increasing.

"I know I shouldn't do this, but…" Shaw said, but whatever was the rest of the sentence, she didn't manage to say it. She was glad that Root only questioned the half that she actually managed to say.

"Do what?" Root asked, her voice so fragile that Shaw almost feared she'd break.

"This." Shaw simply answered as she closed the distance between their bodies and tilted her head up to catch Root's lips with her own, her hand tightening around Root's waist.

Sameen's lips were soft and gentle, barely brushing Root's after that smooth kiss. She opened her eyes to watch Root's face, the other woman's eyes remained tightly shut, forehead wrinkled as if unsure of what to make of Shaw's actions. Shaw didn't like that expression in Root's face, she wanted it gone, and she wanted Root to know she wasn't trying to use or manipulate her. She wanted Root to trust her.

Shaw brought a hand to Root's face, her fingers brushing along Root's jawbone and then wandering over Root's thin lips. Only then Root opened her eyes again, and Shaw let her see through her, lowering her walls so that Root would know the only thing Shaw wanted in that moment was her.

Shaw tilted her head up again, breathing against Root's lips without closing that final gap between them, taunting the other woman. When Root moved her head to capture Shaw's lips but Shaw deflected, only to crash their mouths vigorously against each other a second later.

The kiss quickly evolved from soft and gentle to harsh and hungry. Shaw licked Root's lips, her tongue asking permission to enter Root's mouth. A request that was gladly granted.

Their tongues dueled against each other whilst Shaw pressed Root harder against the door, her hands rushing up and down Root's sides, through the fabric of her shirt.

Root moaned, breaking the kiss to give her lungs some much need oxygen. Shaw dipped her head in the crook of Root's neck, taking in the other woman's scent. She kissed and licked the soft skin of Root's neck only halting when she found that sensitive spot that made Root tense up. The hacker's hands were on her hair and shoulder, pulling her impossibly closer whilst Shaw sucked hard on that sensitive spot.

"Shaw," Root said with playfulness in her voice.

Sameen stopped and stared at her.

"I hit on you for more than two years and now you decide you're into me?" Root asked with a grin.

Shaw shrugged.

"You're all talk and no action. Someone had to take the next step." Shaw said, her hand traveling down Root's torso, reaching the hem of her black pants and stopping there, temptingly.

Root gasped at the dangerous proximity of Shaw's hand with where she wanted her the most.

"Go ahead." Root replied, seductively, taunting Shaw who immediately crashed their lips together once more.

Eager. Harsh. Loving.