December 24, 2014

Shaw had the day off from all of her jobs, and she moped around her apartment. Nothing to do, no one to see. The places she'd like to go weren't on the shadow map, so she was stuck there, alone with her thoughts.

Thoughts of how soft Root's body had been under hers last night.

Thoughts of how soft Root's lips were against her own.

Thought of how soft she was when it came to Root. Shaw growled and grabbed her coat. She could do some last-minute Christmas shopping herself; she was seeing the team tomorrow night and it was probably expected that she should bring presents.

December 24, 2017

Gen woke up to the smell of coffee. She shrugged Bear off her legs, where he'd been sleeping, and he looked up at her sadly.

Root was at the kitchen table with a laptop, using her good arm to do something. She looked frustrated. Gen helped herself to a coffee - a little overdone and bitter, she set it aside and took out the milk, being more generous than usual with it.

"It's not as good as yours, is it?" Root asked ruefully. "Sorry I woke you up, I have to edit my name on my medical files before I see the phsyio and my body isn't cooperating."

"Would you like me to take over?" Gen asked, not sure if she was being condescending.

Root looked up. "I'd love that, but I think Shaw would consider it unsuitable."

"Shaw's asleep," Gen said cockily, and Root cocked an eyebrow.

"Like hell she is," Shaw said from where she was propped on the kitchen doorframe. She pushed away from the frame, walked into the kitchen. "I told you Root, no corrupting the kid."

"I need my medical documentation updated to the name I have now," Root said. "Can't quite manage it."

Shaw came over, snagged Root's coffee. Gen saw Shaw's face wrinkle as she drank it but neither of them said anything, and Shaw took another sip as she looked over Root's screen.

"That's migrated," Shaw said, tapping shrapnel on the x-ray on the screen.

"What?" Root asked.

"That shrapnel. x-ray shows it here," Gen saw Shaw touch Root's back, between her shoulder blades, close to her spine. "But I can feel it here," Shaw continued, and Gen saw Shaw's hand move a half-inch across Root's ribcage.

"Are you sure?" Root asked, and Shaw pressed sightly more firmly. "OK, OK, you're sure."

"That would have been left because it was too dangerous to remove it from where it was, but having it float around is worse. Could end up in your lung. I can feel it from here," Root felt Shaw's fingers twitch, as though she longed to reach in and pluck the metal from between her bones. "It'd only take a minute to remove."

"Risks?" Root asked.

"Less than pulling it out of your spinal column, but still high. But - you'd gain at least 20% more functionality in your arm with it gone. It's trapping your dorsal scapular nerve, which is causing the spasms. Why didn't your doctors pick up on this?"

"They were great until the funding ran out," Root said bluntly. "And I didn't have access to my auxiliary accounts while I was in there."

"And now?"

"I'll get an x-ray today to confirm, and get booked in for surgery next week." Root looked up and smiled at Shaw, who still had her hand on the shrapnel. "Nice catch. I always love it when you play doctor."

"I'd take it out myself," Shaw started. "But I don't have an autoclave or anesthetic."

"I don't mind if you don't," Root said, and she felt Shaw's fingers shake against her. Shaw finished the burnt coffee.

"Anyone for a second pot?" Shaw asked, emptying the dallah completely.

Gen sat next to Root and followed her guidance to update the records. Shaw watched, a small smile on her face. Gen looked over and grinned back.

December 24, 2014

Shaw hated Christmas shopping. The repetitive songs, the crowds, the gaudy tinsel everywhere. She stopped by a few weapon shops that were thankfully less obsessive about the holiday and manage to snag a few Christmas deals. She had a rare old book for Finch that stank of vanilla, and she'd got John a credit with his tailor; suits never came in his size. Fusco and his kid had gift cards for the game store, and Zoe had a new taser - one that went with that red bag and shoe set Shaw had admired on the older woman. But for Root she only had a knife - a nice knife, but a knife nonetheless, and it seemed impersonal. She had some nail polish too, but she'd swiped that from work and it didn't count.

December 24, 2017

Gen and Shaw picked up Root from the clinic on their way back from Central Park.

"Good news?: Shaw asked, seeing the smile on Root's face as she got in the back of the car. Bear lept in and Root shut the door behind him.

"You were right, and I'm all booked in to get the last of the shrapnel out. I'll need physical therapy for another couple of months but they say I should regain a lot more mobility."

"Let's go home," Gen said. "It's cold."

"Speaking of, I have access to my funds. I've picked up an apartment a few blocks from the station. Fully furnished," Root added.

"Root, you're not going anywhere. You'll need a carer until you get your surgery, and then you'll need one afterward," Shaw said, looking in the rear-view mirror as she pulled into traffic.

"Are you offering?" Root asked shyly. "I was going to hire someone, get out of your hair."

"You can't leave us, Aunty Sam." Gen said firmly. "And you definitely can't take Bear with you."

"I guess that settles that then," Root said, the uncertain grin of before replaced with a smile. Root caught her eye in the rear-view mirror and smiled back.

December 24, 2014

Shaw wandered aimlessly, always within the shadow map. She passed a computer shop and looked in the window absently. There was an Intel stick and Shaw went in to ask about it, coming out a few minutes later with a wrapped box.

December 24, 2017

Shaw came home with a few groceries, emptied the paper bag on the table and put a bottle of black nail polish in front of Root.

"I can't manage that at the moment," Root said, looking sadly at the bottle.

"I figured. I'll do it after dinner." Shaw said, putting a pot on the stove. She threw in some onions she'd chopped before she realised she needed carrots and went out to the shops. She threw the meat in to brown. Root stood up, came close behind Shaw, and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, resting her cheek against Shaw's face. "What's this for?" Shaw asked, curious but not moving away.

"You're so... considerate. Letting me stay, bringing me the one thing I desperately missed, cooking dinner. You're very... domesticated. It looks good on you."

"Had to cook for me and Gen anyway," Shaw said gruffly. "And you're in no state to be living by yourself, no offense."

"None taken," Root said, kissing Shaw's temple. Gen walked in, giggled and walked back out. Shaw could hear her pull out the ladder.

"Careful on the ladder," Shaw called.

"Sure, mom, Gen said sarcastically.

"And the nail polish, that was selfish. You never wore it in the sims, so seeing you without it makes me... uneasy. Like I'm back there and none of this is real."

"Don't I feel real to you?" Root purred, pressing closer, and Shaw could feel where Root pressed against her back, the softness of her juxtaposed with the hard pressure from her jutting hips.

"Need to feed you up," Shaw said. "All I feel is bones," Shaw lied. She tilted her head so she could see Root properly. "I need to get other ingredients from the fridge, so, pleasant as this has been, you need to let go of me."

"That's a shame," Root said, letting go enough that Shaw rotated into her. "But if you give me one for the road, I might be able to manage." Root looked down at Shaw's lips and ducked her head a little. Shaw hesitated, but she remembered how many times she'd kissed Root before and how it had never, ever been a bad decision, so she closed the gap, bought her lips to the mouth she knew so well. It was soft and slow, and Shaw didn't want to pull away.

"Ugh, you guys made me waste my time," Shaw heard Gen say from the kitchen doorway. The doorframe was hung with a copious amount of mistletoe.

"I'm guessing you're on board with this?" Shaw asked laughingly, still encircled in Root's arms.

"Duh," Gen said, and turned the TV on. Shaw kissed Root again, just for the joy of it, then she went to the fridge.

December 24, 2014

Shaw picked up some fresh fruit from the market and headed home, still thinking about Root. She bit into a red apple, remembering the time they'd stayed in a hotel together and Root hadn't even... and staying up all night to fight a biohazard and Root making inuendos the whole night but never even touching her. It was enough to make her angry - but why was she angry? She was angry that Root had kissed her 3 days ago.. but was she also angry that Root hadn't kissed her sooner? Shaw shook her head and turned on her tv as soon as she got home, hoping the noise from the game would drown out her spiralling thoughts.

December 24, 2017

True to her word, Shaw painted Root's nails after dinner. When she was done she pulled Root's hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles, then pulled Root closer and kissed her mouth.

"Can I have nails like Root?" Gen asked.

"Sure, want me to teach you? I used to be a beautician, after all." Gen nodded, and Shaw painted her nails too, pointing out techniques and tricky parts. When she was done she pulled Gen in for a hug, ruffled her hair and kissed her forehead.

"You're smudging my nails!" Gen called from where she was pressed against Shaw's shoulder. Shaw chuckled and let her go.

Notes:

The heat is making me hallucinate more than usual which isn't really fun. It's just patches of colour but they obscure my vision and my brain is borked.

Merry Christmas Eve for most of you - it is Christmas Day here and I am in my underoodles under the aircon writing fanfic and don't need to interact with anyone but a bird - a bird who is thankful for the melon medley.

Merry Hexmass is up and is the work that inspired this series.