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“Do we really have to do this?” Shaw grumbled as they entered the five star hotel.
Root smirked as she linked her arm a bit tighter with Shaw’s, “Come on, Sameen, this will be fun.”
“Right, fun,” Shaw muttered, rolling her eyes, wincing at all the bright rainbows and happy colors plastering the interior of the hotel. “We need to talk about your definition of fun.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to show a little Pride,” Root teased playfully as they walked up to the concierge. “Hi, we’re here for the convention. We have a pass and a room for Mrs. and Mrs. Shaw?”
Shaw glared at her but managed to bite her tongue. Arguing right now would not be the best idea, but Shaw made a mental note to talk with Root about how the Machine makes reservations for them from now on.
The concierge checked them in eagerly, handed them their room keys (“oh for the love of God, they made these rainbow, too?”), and pointed them in the direction of the convention meet-and-greet.
“There’s a lot of people here,” Shaw muttered as she looked around, taking comfort in the weight of her Nano pressed into her waistband. “It’ll be hard to find our number in this, and even harder to identify the threat to her.”
“Well,” Root said, walking past a table full of pride flags. She picked up a rainbow one for herself and handed Shaw a pink, blue, and purple one. “We know our number is going to be giving a speech at the opening ceremony tonight. So right now she’s probably just mingling.”
“So we split up?” Shaw asked, eyeing the crowd warily.
Root nodded, “That does seem to be the most efficient course of action, Sameen. What?” She waved her flag in Shaw’s face teasingly. “Are you scared of showing your pride?”
Shaw glared, “I don’t do scared.” She threw her flag back on the table. “And I don’t do pride.”
Root watched her stalk off moodily and lose herself in the crowd. She knew she shouldn’t be hurt by the way Shaw was acting. It wasn’t in her nature to enjoy events like this. She didn’t understand it, and she didn’t want to. There was no way Root could force her to have a good time. It would be easier for both of them if they found their number as quickly as possible and saved her so Shaw could leave and they could go back to their usual (albeit complicated) relationship.
Root wandered through the convention, stopping to make enough small talk so as not to appear suspicious, occasionally asking if any of the other attendees had seen the number, Jessica Schmit. Most people hadn’t seen her, suggesting that she was making last minute adjustments to her speech, but one man pointed her to a booth a few aisles over where she was apparently signing her book while waiting for the convention to officially start.
Root quickly made her way to said stall and pulled out a copy of Schmit’s book. It was her own copy, actually. She’d bought it a few months ago at an airport in England while waiting for a flight to her next Relevant number. It was a good read, lots of talk about self acceptance and feminism. Girls looking out for girls and all that. Root knew that a few years ago she would have scoffed at such an optimistic book, but now she found it... hopeful and inspiring in a way.
She held out her book (noticing for the first time just how many pages she’d dogeared in the few times she’d read it), smiling at the author while she asked, with her best winning smile, “Could I trouble you for an autograph, Miss Schmit?”
Jessica Schmit was a gorgeous woman, and she smiled right back at Root, “Of course you can. And please, it’s just Jessica.” Her pen sped easily over the inside cover of the book.
“Thank you so much,” Root said, taking the book back. “Samantha,” the name slid easily off her tongue as she held out her hand by way of introduction. As she shook Jessica’s hand she continued talking, “And may I just say, I’m a huge fan.”
Jessica laughed, her eyes flicking down to Root’s lips for half a second, “I kind of suspected as much, looking at your copy. How long have you had it?”
Root grinned, flushing slightly, “Just a few months, actually. But I have a lot of free time. Work travel, you know.”
“Ah yes,” Jessica nodded reverently. “Airports are a gift to humanity, but also a curse to the easily bored. I probably wrote half of that book in between waiting for flights.”
Root found herself laughing easily with this woman, “I know the feeling. Some days I think I’ve written more code while jet-lagged than I have in a proper state of mind.”
“Oh so you’re a programmer?” Jessica asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“I dabble,” Root acknowledged, smirking. It was easier to say that rather than try to explain that she worked for an omnipotent superintelligence that regularly tasked her to save the world. “But mostly I deal with people these days.”
“Like public relations?” Jessica offered, stepping a little closer.
Root’s smirk grew, “Something like that.”
“Well you know,” Jessica said, her tone dropping a little bit, and a smile growing on her lips. “I have been looking for a new agent-”
“There you are.”
Root felt a hand wrap around hers with a vice like grip, pulling her slightly away from Jessica. She looked up, ready to beat her attacker away, only to realize that it was Shaw holding onto her hand so tightly. There was a fire in the shorter woman’s eyes that Root had rarely seen before, and never when Shaw’s gun was still firmly holstered. And she was glaring directly as Jessica.
Root didn’t know whether to be worried or flattered.
“Shaw,” She said in her most calming tone. “This is Jessica Schmit, the author of that book I love so much.”
Jessica, though obviously confused at the sudden turn of events, extended her hand politely, “It’s nice to meet you, um, Shaw.”
Shaw didn’t take it. Instead she looked at Root, “Come on, we’re going to be late for our dinner date.” Root had never heard Shaw call any of their outings at date before, and she’d definitely never heard her say the term to viciously. She let Shaw lead her away from the booth, but glanced apologetically back at Jessica as she did.
As soon as they were out of Jessica’s line of sight, Shaw dropped Root’s hand. But Root grabbed Shaw’s quickly and held onto it firmly. “I didn’t know we had a dinner date,” She said, positively giddy.
Shaw scowled, “You were getting too close to the number.”
“I thought that was the point, Sameen,” Root said, grinning.
“Yeah well how are we supposed to keep tabs on her when she can recognize us both so easily?” Shaw demanded.
Root shrugged, “She took so well to me, I thought I’d stick around her until we identified the threat. Though now that she knows I have such a jealous girlfriend, she might not want me around.”
Shaw stopped as soon as she heard the g-word, glaring. Root smirked and tugged her along playfully. “You’re the one who said we had a date. Come on, Sameen. We’ll find some other way to keep Jessica safe.”
And they did.
Fortunately, the hotel’s restaurant had seating located in just the right spot where you could see the stage where Jessica Schmit was going to give her speech. As they sat and enjoyed their “date” they kept watch on the stage, and saw the exact moment a religious extremist planted a bomb under the podium. With a quick call to the bomb squad, and Shaw’s deft hands disarming the device, they not only managed to save Jessica, but to also completely delay the Pride convention.
But they still had the room booked for them for the night, and that, Shaw argued, was too good of an opportunity to miss. After enjoying the complimentary bottle of champagne (not to mention a bottle of something much stronger that Shaw ordered up as well) they shed their clothes. Root spent the next hour in a state of near constant ecstasy. Shaw spent it reminding them both that Root was hers, and she didn’t like to share.
Finally, the two of them ended up on the bed, Root snuggled up against Shaw, both of them breathing deeply. Shaw thought Root was asleep until suddenly the taller woman started squirming a bit. “Alright,” Root said, somewhat sleepily. “It’s my turn.”
“What?” Shaw asked, wondering if Root was really asking for yet another round. “What are you talking about?”
Root looked her right in the eye, “It’s my turn to be the big spoon.”
Shaw’s face went stony. “No.”
Root scooted a bit closer, “Just this once?”
“No way, Root,” Shaw said firmly. “This cuddling shit is bad enough. There's no way you're going to get this out of me too.”
“Come on, Sameen,” Root said, scrunching her nose slightly. “Do it for the mission.”
Shaw rolled her eyes, “Root, I highly doubt that you being the big spoon is part of the Machines master plan.”
“You never know. It could be important. I need someone to let me be the big spoon.” Her tone took on a layer of seduction, “And if you won’t let me, I bet Jessica is still in the hotel somewhere...”
She started to pull herself out of Shaw’s grip, but Shaw just held her tighter. After a moment, Shaw groaned, “Fine, just this once. You can be the big spoon.”
She ignored Root’s satisfied smirk as she rolled onto her other side and felt Root’s arms wrap around her, Root’s head resting on her shoulder, Root’s chest pressed up against her back. Shaw would never admit it to anyone, but underneath her initial layer of disgust at allowing herself to be the little spoon, she felt almost safe like this.
She’d never let this happen with any of her past relationships. She’d never let them progress this far. Most of her relationships wouldn’t even be called relationships by most people, one night stands, hookups, friends with benefits, those were her style. But this... cuddling, being protective, being jealous, this was new territory for Shaw. And she didn’t know how to navigate it.
She didn’t know how to have a relationship, but she didn’t want to screw it up.
As if she could hear her thoughts, Root suddenly whispered in Shaw’s ear, “Don’t worry Sameen. You don’t need to say anything for me to know you care.”
And Shaw knew that she did care. She didn’t know how or when, but Root had somehow wormed her way into the extremely small list of people that were incredibly important to her. And if this goddamned pride was really that important to Root, then maybe... “Maybe we can try another one of these things sometime,” She heard herself say.
She felt Root smile into the crook of her neck, “Really?”
Shaw looked at the two little flags Root had snatched from that stupid flag booth, now tucked messily into her bag. She smiled a small smile, too. “Yeah, Root. I’ll try for some pride.”