John Reese is a lot of things.
He's a skilled tracker, a tactical expert, stealthy, and trained to kill in every possible way.
And he's sure as hell not blind.
He thinks it's kind of sweet that Root and Shaw are trying to keep this a secret. In their line of work, it probably seems like the safest way to go about it.
But, really, trying to keep it from him is a useless endeavour; he's been working with Shaw for years now, and if the two women think that he's not going to notice the bruises on Shaw's neck, which her pea coat just doesn't quite hide, (but there's no way in hell he's going to bring it up, and he doubts that Root will; Reese has a feeling that she likes having a visible claim to Shaw, even if it's unspoken), or the discolouration around Shaw's – and sometimes Root's - wrists (which he definitely isn't going to ask about), then they're mistaken.
He's sitting with Finch in the subway when it finally occurs to him. Bear's head is resting in his lap, and a comfortable silence surrounds the trio as Finch sips his tea, researching their current number. Root has long since wandered off at the Machine's behest, and Shaw is due to check in with news of their target at any time. Reese can't help but wonder if Shaw purposefully wore Root's coat instead of her own this morning.
The tapping of Finch's fingers across the keyboard of his computer frequent the silence, irregular and soothing to Reese. He gently scratches Bear's ears as he drinks coffee from a Styrofoam cup, and decides to break the silence, because who knows if he'll get another opportunity to ask?
"Root and Shaw..."
Finch's head flicks upwards from his screen, turning towards Reese with a faint look of worry on his face. As usual.
"Yes, Mr. Reese?" Finch asks, his voice soft compared in the silent room.
"They know that we know, right? About them?"
Finch tilts his head, and for a split second Reese understands why the man is so fond of his bird-themed aliases.
"I'm certain they do. They haven't exactly been... subtle, in their displays of affection." Finch says, his gaze fixed back on the monitor in front of him. He frowns slightly, and his typing is a fraction faster as the code on the screen changes.
Reese stops scratching Bear's head, and the dog moves over to lie by Finch in rebellion.
"Well, Shaw's always hiding her hickeys, and they always arrive at least five minutes apart."
"And yet, Ms. Shaw came in wearing Ms. Groves' jacket. That's hardly a level of subtlety worthy of her employment," Finch says calmly, eyes sliding across the screen leisurely.
Reese places his cup of coffee on the table between them.
"It could have been a mistake," he says, wanting Finch to take the bait, to confirm what he's nearly certain he already knows.
Finch looks away from the computer, eyebrows raised at Reese.
"Ms. Groves and Ms. Shaw don't make mistakes, Mr. Reese. They are incredibly intelligent and resourceful women. If they wanted to keep their relationship hidden from us, I have no doubt we would only know about it if the Machine found it necessary."
Reese nods and leans back into his chair, satisfied with the answer.
Root and Shaw, masters of espionage and secrets, don't wear clothes that show marks from the night before unless they want them to be seen. To be known.
There's something satisfying, Reese thinks to himself, as the familiar thump of heavy boots on the stairway causes Bear's ears to perk up, about knowing that your partner is telling you, without words, about her relationship.
Especially, he thinks, when it's Sameen Shaw.