Author's note: Well, hello there. This story has gotten some pretty good feedback so I'm continuing with it. I hope you enjoy it, I'll add in some action soon and it'll get more interesting. Anyway, forgive any mistakes I've missed and leave a review if you like. Thanks to all the people who reviewed the last chapter. You lot made my day.
Eyes fluttering tiredly, Shaw awoke with a groan. She found herself lying uncomfortably on the sofa – she must have dozed off watching TV last night. Stretching slightly, aware of her stiff neck, she found an unfamiliar weight on her legs. Stifling a yawn, she lazily drew her eyes to her lap where her hand rested on a pair of legs.
"What?" Shaw grunted, barely able to keep her eyes open. A little more alert now, she slowly took in the figure lying half on top of her. The long, slender legs were clad in dark jeans that were smeared with dirt and dust. The black top was in a similar state. Two arms were curled into the woman's chest, her head resting on the arm of the chair. The pale face looked more peaceful than Shaw had ever seen. It was hard to believe that Root was anything more than some ordinary woman, with a job and friends and a normal life. Shaw began to move, pausing as a thought struck her. What if she woke her guest? Most of Shaw wanted to just shove her legs off – it was her house, her personal space the woman was intruding on. But she also didn't want to disturb her. She'd be in pain… And therefore probably in a bad mood and very irritating, Shaw thought quickly. Unconsciously, her grip had tightened on Root's leg as she lazily gazed at the hacker. A strand of brown hair hung over Root's pale face, which was still smeared in places with dried blood and dirt. With barely a thought, Shaw reached out and brushed her fingers gently – in the same way one would stroke something delicate and breakable – across Root's forehead, tucking the lock behind Root's ear, feeling the faint scar beneath her fingertips. Before Shaw could think about what she was doing, she froze. Root's eyes shot open, looking straight up at her with no hint of tiredness. A wide, malicious grin blossomed across her lips, pleased to have caught Shaw in the act. Shaw's eyes widened in horror. Now, a gun had been jammed in her face more times than Shaw could count, and each time, she had never frozen like this. Her mind was constantly whirring with working out her next move, or planning her escape. But now, she would rather be faced with Root holding a taser over her again than this.
"Sameen…" chimed Root as Shaw grimaced, still staring down at Root's fathomless dark eyes with a mixture of dread and anger. Still, she was unable to react. She could punch her – that would be a good distraction. But Root was injured, so that would cause even more guilt that Shaw didn't need right now. Maybe the best way was to just be casual. Yes, shrug it off and play it cool. But she knew Root would continue on relentlessly about this moment until something even more embarrassing happened. Shaw pursed her lips, frowning at just the thought of Root torturing her with this.
"Daydreaming about me, Shaw?" asked Root suggestively, looking up at her. Shaw realised that in her mild internal panic, her hand had remained by Root's ear and their faces were slightly closer than the norm for a pair of… friends? Were they even friends?
Shaw snapped out of her daze, withdrawing her hand and leaping to her feet. Root was not expecting this sudden movement and the lower half of her body was thrown from Shaw's lap and onto the floor, her ankle knocking against the table with a loud thud. The hacker was forced to claw at the table with her good hand to stop herself falling off completely and potentially damaging her already wounded arm.
"Well, that's rude," she shot venomously over the back of the sofa as Shaw hurried into the kitchen. Deny it, Shaw thought. Deny everything.
"You're one to talk," Shaw retorted as she slammed the cupboard doors, searching for distraction and food. "Tasering me twice so far."
"You punched me!" replied Root, sitting up against the arm of the sofa, her knees curled up to her chest, her good arm wrapped around them, her fingertips subtly massaging her left ankle.
"Once!" Shaw hissed over the breakfast bar, glaring at Root, who grinned in reply. "But I'm dying for a second try," Shaw added.
Root laughed lightly. "Luckily for you," she said, her voice dropping lower. "I like it rough." Shaw banged a mug into the counter and fumed as she made herself some coffee. Her eye twitched slightly, the weight of the hacker's gaze on her back.
Root watched in amusement as Shaw rattled noisily about the kitchen. Root had expertly driven the nail into the crack in Shaw's armour. Root had done it mainly just to get one up on Shaw, but catching her in such an endearing moment was truly worth Shaw's ire. The normally detached woman seemed so gentle and caring – Root was glad she had been one of the probable few to witness it. The Machine was quiet in her ear, indicating Root should stay where she was. Root was glad of it. Running around all the time left her tired. It was also lonely. Usually it didn't matter – she had Her. But sometimes she missed having a rest. Another loud bang roused her from her thoughts as Shaw shut another cupboard door a lot harder than was necessary. Root grinned again – this game was far too amusing. The only downside was that Shaw would probably be in a bad mood all day now. But it was just too fun to keep ribbing the woman until she cracked. In Root's mind, Shaw's outbursts were akin to bright fireworks – a beautiful, loud explosion of emotion that had pent up and festered in the normally stoic Shaw.
"So violent," she drawled, aware that she was definitely pushing the big red button with 'Danger' scrawled across it in big letters. Shaw refused to look at her, grumpily filling the somehow still intact mug with rich, brown coffee. "Imagine how great that passion would be in other…" Root smirked, searching for the correct word, watching Shaw carefully. "Activities…" Root was forced to bite down a laugh as Shaw slammed her coffee pot down onto the counter so hard Root was sure the handle was going to come off. Root stared back devilishly as Shaw glared at her, nostrils flared and knuckles glowing white as they clenched.
"Have I plucked a nerve?" enquired Root innocently.
"Shut up," snapped Shaw, downing a noisy gulp of coffee as she lingered in the kitchen. She didn't know if being in close proximity to the hacker would be a sensible idea right now. Was it ever? she wondered absently. She snapped back to the present when Root winced as she moved her arm, running a hand through her hair with a grimace.
"I must be a mess," Root mused aloud, threading a strand of hair through her fingers and inspecting it.
"Yes, you are," replied Shaw over the rim of her coffee mug. Root chuckled before hissing in pain as she attempted to stand. Shaw watched her like a hawk from over the counter as Root carefully rose to her feet, pausing for a moment before she took a halting stop forwards. "Sit," ordered Shaw as soon as Root began to falter, the hacker's left hand shooting out and latching onto the back of the sofa. She gripped it tightly as her face flashed in pain for a second, her arrogant façade crumbling around the edges.
"I'm fine," insisted Root, though her performance wasn't convincing anyone. Taking another step in spite of Shaw's protests, the hacker felt pain explode in her left ankle when even a tiny amount of weight was placed upon it. Before Root could realise her error, she dropped like a stone. Shaw moved fast, dropping her cup carelessly onto the unit and dived to Root, catching her good arm and looping her other arm around Root's waist. Her fingers accidentally slipped beneath Root's top as she struggled to steady her.
"You're not fine," growled Shaw, easing Root back to the sofa and pushing her down onto the cushions carefully. Root looked a little abashed. For once, she didn't make any comments, despite their physical proximity. Shaw noted this fact, growing slightly more concerned at her abnormal behaviour as she perched on the edge of the sofa and tapped Root's left knee.
"Can I have a look?" asked Shaw. Root settled herself, cradling her injured arm over her chest and nodded. Root seemed strangely vulnerable at the moment. It was an odd sight. Shaw decided to let it go as she gripped Root's left foot and slowly extended it, her eyes flicking to the hacker's face every few seconds to gauge her reaction. Root remained quiet, resting her head on her knee and watched Shaw. As carefully as she could, Shaw eased Root's black sock from her foot, casting it to the floor and rolling her jeans leg up to reveal the source of the problem.
"Is it bad?" asked Root, a slight break in her voice. Shaw continued assessing the wound for a moment. Root's ankle was swollen; the skin tinged purple but Shaw couldn't see any breakages. Perhaps a twist or sprain. It wasn't nice to look at, but it wasn't too bad.
"No," decided Shaw, tapping the skin gently to gauge the extent of the damage. Root's lip twitched but she made no noise. "It's bruised, maybe twisted," she reported, biting her lip for a moment. Had she caused this? When she stood up so carelessly, had she made it worse? She looked up from her ankle to see Root tilt her head, her expression unreadable.
"Uhm," said Shaw, running a hand over her hair, her fingers brushing against the band holding her ponytail in place. "I'll…" Shaw wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling. Other people were not this complicated. "I'll get you some ice," she said quickly, shooting to her feet but this time, she placed Root's foot onto the sofa cushion before stomping into the kitchen.
"It wasn't you," called Root into the kitchen after some intense internal debating. Option One: she could let Shaw feel guilty about potentially hurting her. But Root was discovering there was a line forming in her games, a line that seemed to apply to Shaw and Shaw else was fair game – she would do what she liked. But Shaw… Things seemed more… blurred. So Root was left with the less fun Option Two.
"What?" snapped Shaw, ploughing back from the kitchen and kneeling next to Root – pointedly not looking at Root in the eye – and wrapped a towel around the frozen bag of peas she had procured from the freezer. She gingerly placed the make-shift ice pack onto Root's ankle. Root, knowing full well she was risking her health, reached out and placed her hand over Shaw's. Shaw's eyes closed sharply, her entire body stiffening as she fought the urge to back off and run. Amidst her inner turmoil, she felt Root's fingers squeeze her hand slightly, the warmth combating the cold seeping through her skin from the frozen peas. Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes and gradually allowed her gaze to travel from their hands to Root's knee, lingering for a moment before climbing to Root's face. The smile there took her by surprise. For once, it was not a suggestive, malicious smirk or grin. Instead, her eyes crinkled slightly, her lips forming a genuine, fond, warm expression that seemed to somehow light up her pale face. Shaw found she couldn't return it.
"My ankle was already sore last night," said Root quietly, no trace of teasing in her soft voice. "While you didn't help this morning," she added with a gentle squeeze of Shaw's hand to indicate she was joking. "You didn't make it worse." Root's fingers lingered on Shaw's for a few moments. She knew Shaw was searching for a way out, a way to downplay this situation. And Root would let her. She was patient. Root withdrew her hand and Shaw snatched her own away, standing and folding her arms immediately. Root leaned back, amused that Shaw was so predictable.
"Like I was worried," shrugged Shaw. "You need to fix your face."
Root grinned, resting her left elbow on the armrest, wiggling her toes slowly to see how much movement she could get from her damaged foot.
"Charming as ever," she commented loudly as Shaw disappeared into the kitchen again. The reply was a damp cloth to the face, striking her on the nose and falling into her lap. "Thanks," she said sarcastically, picking it up and dabbing at her face. Her cheek stung with every contact, a few other areas of her face aching. The cloth came away with blood smears on it. Shaw knelt on the floor, placing a fresh cup of steaming coffee on the table and nursing another to her chest, swinging her legs in front of her and crossing them over.
"Is that for me?" asked Root, surprised. Shaw nodded. "Is it poisoned?"
"Drink it and see," grumbled Shaw. Root postponed her vain attempts to clean her face without a mirror and tossed the cloth at her companion. Shaw batted the material away before it hit her as Root reached for her coffee, using as little movement as possible. Sipping the hot liquid, she was grateful. The smell alone woke her up a little more.
"Good coffee," she commented. Shaw nodded, content to stay quiet as she drank her coffee. Root took another gulp, glad her dry throat was finally quenched. She leaned forwards and tapped Shaw on the head. "Right. Help me with my face."
Shaw arched an eyebrow, looking up at the hacker. "Do it yourself," she replied hastily. "It's your face."
"You want it fixed, you do it. I can't see it anyway," argued Root. Shaw set down her coffee cup with a muttered curse and took the cloth, kneeling up so she was nearly eye-level with the other brunette. Holding Root's face steady with her left hand, she began wiping away the grime, avoiding the cuts and bruises as she worked away. Her mind began to wander in the silence, unaware that Root was watching her intently. Root made things interesting but complicated. She was much more likely to be shot in Root's company. That made things interesting, at least. But Shaw, who was never really much of a feelings person, was beginning to suspect that she might be developing more… confusing feelings than she had before. And this fact irritated her. She had gotten on just fine with minimal attachments. It wasn't that she didn't love anyone; just that her version of love didn't really feel the same as what other people described. If Finch or Reese were hurt by someone, Shaw would kill them. No hesitation. If Bear was the target, the perpetrator would be violently scalped and then killed. Root… She didn't know. It wasn't something she thought about often. Now that she had, Shaw realised that she really did not know at all. Killing would probably be involved. But her first instinct upon seeing Root on her doorstep was not to kill whoever had caused it, but to look after the injured woman. To take in the stray cat who was always popping by unannounced and mewing at her for attention. Shaw would nurse her back to health and she'd probably go off by herself again. Maybe Root would return when she was hungry. But occasionally, strays became constant guests – guests who mooch food and live rent-free – and Shaw would admit that Root would be the most god-awfully irritating room-mate ever. Why the hell are you even thinking about this?she wondered, bringing her train of thought to a complete stop.
"That's a bruise," said Root sharply, biting back a cry as Shaw cleansed her face, the slightly distracted woman straying into the bruised area of Root's face.
"Wuss," Shaw replied coolly but she took care to avoid it. "You can shower once you can stand."
Root nodded, scratching an itch on her scalp. Shaw leaned up and began running the cloth over Root's hair, doing her best to get rid of the dirt. She could't get it all, but it would be enough until Root was well enough to stand in a shower. Shaw was definitely not helping her shower. Not a chance. Root cleared her throat after a short silence elapsed between them. "So what are you doing for the day?" she asked nonchalantly, though her neutral tone took more effort than normal. When Shaw had reached up to clean her hair, the woman hadn't seemed to have noticed the lack of space between them. Root was tempted to lean her forehead against Shaw's chest, just below her clavicle. She desperately wanted to – she needed the comfort more than anything else – but Shaw would probably get a fright and perhaps snap Root's neck from shock. Root was perfectly happy with all her body parts aligned correctly for the moment. Shaw could probably rearrange all of her bones if she wanted to. She eyed Shaw as the woman pulled away, gulping a mouthful of coffee as she shrugged, checking her phone in her shorts pocket.
"Nobody needs me for the moment, so I'm going to make sure you don't kill yourself trying to walk to the fridge or something," Shaw grumbled in reply, settling back on the floor with her legs crossed.
"So I've got you all to myself all day?" asked Root flirtatiously, arching an eyebrow. Shaw sneered sarcastically, shifting Root's foot and heaving herself up onto the sofa, grabbing the remote from the table and switching on the TV, unconsciously settling Root's foot on her lap. Root frowned, surprised yet pleased.
"I can put you in pain with just a tap of my finger," Shaw grunted without looking at Root, flicking through the channels in search of something halfway decent to watch. As she did so, she seemed to almost sense Root's innuendo before she said it. Tilting her head slightly, she could see Root's signature 'I'm-going-to-make-a-rude-innuendo' grin.
"Don't…" sighed Shaw, rolling her eyes heavenwards, knowing it would make no difference.
"You could make me scream –"
"Stop," snapped Shaw, but with less hostility than usual. Root braced herself, preparing for the inevitable pain to shoot through her leg – she had been warned, after all. But Shaw simply let a small smile creep onto her face, placing her hand lightly on Root's shin, far from the bruising and focused on her program.
"Scream so hard your voice dies," Shaw muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Root to hear.
"What was that?" asked Root, not quite sure what she had just heard.
"Nothing important," replied Shaw casually. Two can play at this game, she thought as Root turned to the TV with a perplexed expression.
