Chapter Text
Root had become a mystery again - a ghost. MIA for months after their Mediterranean trip, Shaw had only heard a few brief snippets of conversation from Finch's end.
If she was being honest, Shaw was somewhat relieved not to have that woman hovering about; with her flair for drama and predisposition to make Shaw as uncomfortable as possible, Root wasn't always easy to have around.
But she was nice to have around sometimes, too. She had an uncanny ability to show up when she was needed most, many times saving Shaw's ass. Shaw knew that this information came easily to Root, she did have the Machine in her ear 24/7, but there was something else, too.
Something warm and familiar that spread out and bloomed across Shaw's chest not unlike that first belt of whisky after a particularly rough day. But Root was also sharp and dangerous - she could lure you in with her charms only to cut you for succumbing later.
And if she was still being honest - Shaw knew that the opposition of extremes that was Root was extremely alluring and almost impossible to get out of her mind. Regrettable, yes. Forgettable, not a chance in hell.
In the weeks following their tryst in Ibiza, Shaw's libido was in full swing. Root had ignited a spark inside her, and she was damned if she was going to wait for Root to take her sweet time coming back into her life so she could scratch that itch.
Root never called. Not even once.
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Shaw had begun going to bars in different parts of town to cruise. Like tonight, she was in Queens at a neighborhood dive bar, eyeing an attractive blonde sitting three stools down. She was tall and lanky, a librarian type with thin, vulnerable wrists, full lips and pretty, dark eyes with just a hint of wildness around the edges - yes, she would do just fine.
Shaw raised her glass in invitation, beckoning the woman closer with a cock of her head and that dangerous smile.
The blonde sauntered over and sat on the empty barstool next to Shaw, crossing her long legs. "You're not from around here." It wasn't a question.
Making no attempt to conceal her desire, Shaw's eyes moved up and down the woman's lean body, noting her delicate hands, sharp cheekbones and sensitive looking mouth. She sighed audibly.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Shaw grazed a thumb across the tender pulse point of the other woman's wrist.
The blonde threw back her head and laughed, "Does that usually work?"
"Uh, yeah - it does actually," Shaw conceded with a sly grin
"What's your name?"
"Sameen," She said, not bothering to use a cover - she was getting so tired of this.
"I'm Lauren," she said, as she stared into Shaw's dark eyes. "So tell me, Sameen," She took a sip of her drink, eyeing Shaw brightly, "who are you trying to forget?"
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As a rule, Shaw did not bring people to her place but Lauren was a lucky find - an intoxicating blend of smart, vulnerable, snarky and hot. A dizzying combination that sent Shaw's body way into overdrive.
Behind the closed door of Shaw's apartment, they waste no time -- ripping at each other's clothing, lips gnashing, pointed teeth tearing at tender skin. Sharp nails rake brutally down Shaw's torso as her hand reaches deep inside Lauren - pushing, pulling, breaking past any remaining boundaries -- taking her -- and in so doing, Shaw's body is finally able to loosen, her chest relaxes and she can breathe easily, she's swimming and everything is fine. All fine.
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Root. She can't get to her, her feet won't move, but then... she's crawling to her, on her hands and knees through tunnels of broken glass and shrapnel -- one objective: Find Root. Fragments assault her - all dark hair, creamy skin and doe eyes... she's tumbling, in the surf or in space, desperately searching for a trace, a whisper -- something. Root.
"Are you okay?"
Sweaty and clammy, Shaw gasps for air as she spirals out of the dream, looking up at the other woman with big, dark eyes -- poised to attack.
"Shhh," Lauren rubs her thumb gently over Shaw's damp, furrowed brow, "go back to sleep, sweetie." And strangely enough, she does, her arms wound tightly around a warm, naked stranger.
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Shaw hated sleeping with people. She chalks it up to being exhausted and silently vows never to repeat the mistake as she slips out of her own apartment at 0500, leaving a nude, sleeping blonde in her bed.
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Lauren never spent the night with anyone she picked up - it was one of her few hard and fast rules. But last night, after their lust was spent, something compelled her to stay for the simple reason that Sameen needed her; a purely altruistic moment for an otherwise unscrupulous woman.
She found her jeans in the foyer and was slipping into them when she realized that she was not alone. A very pretty woman sat in a tattered armchair, bloody and bruised, her fingers curled around a semi-automatic pistol.
"Enjoy fucking my girlfriend?"