A/N So like...grad school. I faintly remember this "free time" thing from months ago...

A "Wireless" sequel has long been on my todo but I wasn't sure how to pull it off. This story popped into my head and refused to leave. I think I accidentally an awkward love triangle. I'm not sure how this one is going to end, so your thoughts are very welcome.

Don't worry, I have something planned for another story for when Shaw blows the bet, and I'm working on Feature Creep still.

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I was getting way too used to having members of John's Bat-squad randomly show up at my apartment. It was hardly even a surprise anymore. I'd open the door and John would be there, sitting patiently at my kitchen table, or Shaw would be sprawled on the couch watching TV and eating a carton of my ice cream. (And she always went for the flavors I liked!) I didn't mind those two. They were relatively good guests. John, despite his teasing, had a pretty decent sense of privacy and stayed out of my bedroom like he was supposed to; as for Shaw, there was nothing in there that she hadn't seen before, and she usually bothered to buy more ice cream if we ran out.

John showing up was no big deal, and my apartment was practically Shaw's second home when it came to relaxing and eating my food. But sometimes I'd come home to find that my bedroom door was ajar, and the intermittent clatter of my mechanical keyboard drifted through the gap, and that's when I got annoyed.

"For the last freaking time, Root," I said, pushing the bedroom door open with a shove. "This isn't an Internet cafe."

The hacker was slouched in my computer chair, her stockinged feet kicked up on my desk. She was wearing gray sweatpants and a blue T-shirt. A pair of dark sneakers had been chucked carelessly to the side. A dark green hoodie was draped over the back of the chair. Root had the keyboard balanced on her thighs and was pecking away at some program running on my desktop computer. You know, the one I kept locked and encrypted?

She didn't even spare me a glance.

"But your Internet connection is so much better than the coffee shop's," she simpered. Her narrow fingers danced over my battered keyboard as she switched rapidly between windows. "And you finally upgraded your CPU to a hex-core for me."

"Uh," I scoffed, walking up behind her, "I upgraded my CPU for me."

"For your multi-threaded algorithm?"

I gripped the back of my chair and tilted it back until Root was gazing upward at me with those annoyingly wide, innocent eyes.

"If you closed the terminal window I left up, you will regret it," I said coolly.

"Stop worrying, silly," Root said, smiling. "It's still running, see?" I glanced up to see that, indeed, the program that had been crunching numbers for three days was still purring along, making the CPU fan work overtime to shed the excess heat. "And I fixed it for you."

"You what?" I said, tearing my eyes away from the screen and glaring down at Root. Had she messed with my program? Changed it somehow while it was running? Oh, if I found even one line of code out of place—

"I went over your algorithm and jotted in some improvements in the comments," she said. "You can decide for yourself if you want to implement them."

Well. At least she hadn't actually changed anything. "Thanks. I guess. Not." Releasing the chair, I sighed, standing up straighter and running my fingers through my hair. "Look, Root, what are you doing at my place?"

"I'm using your computer," she said demurely.

I wasn't even going to bother asking how she'd gotten past the new screen lock. I'd thought for sure this one would've kept her out.

"No, duh," I said. I leaned against my bookshelf and crossed my arms. "I mean it."

"I mean it too. I needed a few dozen CPU cores for my latest project, and you've got lots to spare." She motioned vaguely towards the desktops stacked two high along the wall. Don't worry, I nice'd the processes. You won't notice them. They'll finish in a few hours."

"Is it anything that's going to bring the FBI knocking?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

Root made a scrunched up face. "You think my cracking jobs are shoddy enough to attract anybody's attention?"

"I think you'd do something like that just to mess with me."

"Please," Root said, returning her attention to the monitor. "If I wanted to mess with you, I'd do something more lighthearted, like filling all of your hard drives with tentacle porn. I'm mischievous, not an asshole."

"You call kidnapping mischievous?"

"That was months ago," Root said, glancing at me. She rolled her eyes. "Jeesh," she said dramatically, "you lure a pretty girl to an abandoned warehouse and tie her up for an hour just once, and she never lets you forget it."

"Gee, what a bitch," I said dryly.

"It was technically for your own protection," Root reminded me. "And it was actually less than an hour. And I apologized to Shaw, and I did promise I wouldn't do anything like that again. Unless you want a more consensual reenactment?" Another glance, this one decidedly dirtier. I ignored her suggestive overtones.

"I want you to tell me what you're doing."

"Nothing bad," Root said mysteriously. "Seriously. Nobody's gonna notice."

"Right."

"There," Root said happily, striking the Enter key and putting the keyboard back on the desk. "It'll send me the results when it's done."

"You know I'm going to kill the processes."

"You can try," Root said sweetly.

"Whatever." I pinched the bridge of my nose and sat down in the smaller, more rickety chair to the side of the desk, sighing. "Just as long as it doesn't mess with my code."

"It won't," Root said. There was awkward silence for a moment, and then, she added awkwardly, "You look tired."

"I just spent three hours helping a friend salvage her Master's project code," I grumbled, rotating the chair gently back and forth with one foot. "She just about destroyed the Git repository. It took ages to piece together the project. Not the way I wanted to spend my morning."

"Owch. First timer with Git?"

"Yeah." I chuckled. "She's not used to version control software."

"Mmm. Tough times. I remember having to learn how to use a VCS," Root said. Her false sympathy was hardly convincing.

"No, you don't," I said, scoffing. "One of your aliases helped write a VCS."

"Shh," Root said conspiratorially, "nobody's supposed to know about him. Besides, I'm trying to be sympathetic here."

"Trying being the operative word."

But at least she was trying. That was progress, for Root.

"I think I get an A for effort," she said. I rolled my eyes. For a few moments, neither of us spoke, and the room was filled with the soft whisper of the computer cooling fans. Suddenly, Root snapped her fingers and grinned. She took her feet off the desk. "I just remembered," she said cheerfully, "there was something I was going to ask you about."

"Oh?" I asked. I highly doubted Root had "just" remembered anything. She wasn't one prone to forgetfulness. No, if I knew her at all, she'd been waiting until I was in a less irritated mood so she could start talking about something annoying or uncomfortable.

I wasn't wrong.

"Yeah," Root said. She pulled open one of my desk drawers and removed an object about the size of my hand, holding it up. "So, I've, uh, been meaning to ask you—"

"Root, what the fuck," I said. "Put that down!"

And that was Root. For every minute she acted like a mature adult—for every minute she even tried acting like a mature adult—she made up for it with an hour's worth of bullshit.

"You didn't let me finish," she pouted.

"Put it down."

"I'm just curious about this thing," she said, motioning to it.

"Put it down."

The object in question was roughly four inches long, two wide, and a little more than a half inch thick; a rounded, gently curving shape that tapered in width towards one end. It curved slightly inward. Its blue silicon exterior had a velvety sheen to it and was perturbed only by an elongated bump near the top of the inner face and, below that, a flexible, rounded protrusion. It was a vibrator. A very fancy wireless, bluetooth enabled, inductive-charging vibrator...designed for discreet public use.

It had quickly become my favorite sex toy since Shaw had convinced me to wear it while working the Trisoft case. It was dastardly effective. Hell, the mere sight of it was enough to make me feel a little warm inside.

I couldn't help but notice that Root wasn't putting it down. In fact, she was running her fingers all over it, which was pissing me off.

"I hear it's a really nice piece of technology," Root said absently. She pushed one of the two hidden buttons on the front and it buzzed to life, producing a low hum that caught my ear immediately.

"It is," I said. "It's also not yours. Give it."

"In a second, I'm admiring."

"Stop fondling it and get your own, you pervert."

"Fiiiine," Root said. She handed it over, and immediately my hand began to tingle. I turned the vibrator back off and set it on the desk, well out of reach of Root. I could feel myself blushing.

"You really need better boundaries," I said, jabbing a finger towards her chest. "Where did you even find it? I've told you, you can borrow stuff from the computer part bins, but the red box is off-limits and don't even think about looking—"

"It wasn't under your bed," Root said. "You left it drying on your bathroom counter."

I paused. "Oh," I said, but my anger was only half diminished. "Still. Do I have to lecture you like my Mama? You don't go around touching other peoples' sex toys!"

"Your mother gave you that lecture?" Root asked, grinning.

"Oh, what the fuck, Root." I leaned back in my chair and sighed, staring at my bedroom ceiling. I was too tired to deal with this. "Forget it."

Another awkward pause. I was just about ready to give her the riot act and kick her out when she asked, her voice whimsical, "Was it fun?"

"Was what fun?" I said.

"The Trisoft case."

I slowly sat up straight and stared at Root.

"How did you hear about that?" I said suspiciously, leaning forward.

"It wasn't Shaw," Root said. She did her little dismissive shrug. "Nobody else, either. It's just one of those things I happen to know about."

"That's creepy."

"Yeah," Root admitted. "So, really, was it fun?"

I opened my mouth, not sure what to say, and closed it again before I started catching flies. I had no idea how Root could have possibly known about our little escapade on the Trisoft case. In the end, I decided I probably didn't want to know.

(Talking to Root always gave me the impression that I was completely out of the loop.)

"Yeah," I said eventually. "Yeah, it was fun. The vibrator's pretty powerful even on the low modes, and it has different programs you can run. Feels great, but it's kinda exhausting keeping it on all day."

"So I've imagined," Root said, and there was a strange edge to her voice. "What's the battery life like?"

"Really overspecced. It lasted for hours, even with the two motors. The induction charger is pretty fast too."

"Mmm." Root's eyes were focused on the device.

In the back of my mind, I was pondering just how weird it was to be sitting here talking candidly with Root, of all people, about my sex toys, especially the one I'd used in a slightly voyeuristic incident that she had no right to know about. Really, it was weird that I had the patience to handle her at all. I mean, this was Root. Either she had calmed down considerably since I'd first met her months ago or I'd gotten used to her crazy bullshit over time, and whichever way, Finch was probably right—I really did need some new friends.

"So why are you so curious about my vibrator?" I asked, leaning back in my seat and crossing one leg over the other. I smoothed a wrinkle from my skirt. "I'm sure you could go buy or steal one right now if you wanted one. I think they hit the market a few weeks back."

Something flickered in Root's eyes and she shrugged. "Oh, you know me," she said lightly. She chuckled, nervously. "Always curious about technology."

I stayed silent, eyebrows raised. Root didn't like silence much, I'd found out. It usually got her talking. Sure enough, after a few seconds, she looked aside.

"It uses your phones to communicate long distance, right?" she asked.

"Yep."

"And at Trisoft, Shaw's phone was linked to yours, so she could control it whenever she wanted."

"Yep."

Another pause.

"What was that like?"

I laughed. Root's cheeks were tinged pink. She fidgeted, shuffling her feet. "So that's what you're on about?" I said. "You want to try it out."

Root made a tiny, noncommittal shrug with one shoulder.

"I would've thought you'd want to be the one holding the remote," I said. I held up a finger. "And the answer to that is no, before you even ask."

"You don't know much about me," she said.

That's because you're a manipulative nutcase that dodges questions and doesn't tell anybody anything half the time, I thought, but I kept that to myself.

"Well, you're not trying mine," I said. "I don't share."

"I know," Root said. "I got one for myself."

I threw my hands skyward, exasperated. "Then why the freaking twenty questions if you already have one?"

"I haven't turned it on yet," Root awkwardly. She pressed her legs together.

"Then you should go home, get naked, and get funky, and leave me to figure out how to undo whatever you did to my computers."

Root was looking more and more embarrassed by the minute. "I wanted to try it with somebody else. That's its raison d'être. They built it for two. I have enough other toys for getting myself off alone."

"I'm sure John would be happy to accommodate you," I said. Root pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and began tapping on the screen.

"John doesn't trust me," Root said absently.

"Can't imagine why," I said. I shook my head and sighed. "You know, this is the weirdest conversation we've ever had, and that's really saying something. You should talk to Shaw and..." I trailed off when Root handed me her cell phone. Its screen was locked. "What's this?" I asked. I slid the lock screen aside to reveal a very familiar user interface: two touch-sensitive sliders, one for each motor. Both were at zero, but the remote connection indicator glowed green.

I blinked in surprise and looked back up at Root. Her eyes were laser-focused on the cell phone. She had her hands clasped in her lap.

"You're kidding me," I said.

"I have control issues," Root said, shifting in the seat. "This is...hard for me. I have to be spontaneous, you know?"

"Oh my God," I said. I stared down at the vibrator control app. The possibilities flickered through my mind. It would be so easy to literally fuck with Root right now. I could put the sliders all the way up and throw the phone across the room and watch her scramble for it. I was amazed that Root had voluntarily given me that much control. But I locked the screen before I could do anything stupid and handed the phone back. Root accepted it, visually disappointed, and tucked it into her pocket.

I shook my head. "You are—unbelievable," I said. "You don't just hand somebody something like that."

"I think I just did," Root said. I ignored the sarcasm.

"I just spent three hours unfucking the most user-unfriendly VCS on the planet," I said. "I'm not in the mood and even if I was, I wouldn't want to get all 'spontaneous' with you. I don't know you that well."

"Okay," Root said, sounding morose.

"Maybe some other time. Maybe," I repeated with more emphasis, because Root was suddenly looking a lot happier. "We'd need to talk about it first. Or ask Shaw. She's more the fuck-it-let's-fuck type."

"She's busy," Root said. "And there's a good chance she'd just turn it all the way up and leave it there."

"Yeah, well, what's to say I wouldn't do that too?"

The fantasy was amusing, to say the least. And maybe a little arousing.

"You didn't just now," Root pointed out.

"Hey, give me your cell phone, I want to check my email."

"Ha ha." Root uncrossed her legs and stood awkwardly. My eyes drifted south, but her sweatpants weren't very tight, and if she really was wearing the vibrator, it didn't show.

"Well, it's been great talking, but I should go," she said. "I'll give you more warning next time."

"If there's a next time," I corrected, forcing my eyes back up to her face. "I didn't say yes."

"You didn't say no, either."

"Bye," I said pointedly, and Root left. I shook my head and sat down in front of my desktop computer, wondering if it was worth the effort to try and figure out what she'd done to it. But the dirty fantasies floating around my head were making it awfully hard to concentrate.

My eyes fell on the vibrator lying innocently on my desk.

"Fuck it," I sighed to myself. I was well overdue for a little private time...

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