Root shrugged off a hazmat suit as she answered a call from Shaw. Sat down on a stairwell, elbows on knees, waiting as Shaw took an inordinate amount of time to greet her.

"Hey." Shaw said finally, sounding like she'd come to a decision. "Can I….stay over again? Just for tonight. Finch said he'll have sorted a new place for me by tomorrow, but for tonight…" Shaw sounded hesitant, and Root couldn't help but tease her a little.

"Of course. You know people are going to start to talk, right."

"Nothing to talk about," Shaw said abruptly. "I'll try to get to yours at 6. Dinner's on me." Shaw cut the connection as abruptly as she had started it.

Root rested her face on her hand.

"I'm glad you approve," she said out loud. "But I still need groceries." With that Root got to her feet, pulled a leather apron from the trash can she'd stuffed the hazmat suit into and headed to the foundry.


Shaw showed up with a bag of takeaway and a duffel; half full of weapons, by the clinks from it. Despite the key, she still knocked.

Root opened the door, stepped aside. Shaw hesitated in the doorway.

"I do appreciate it. You offering and letting me stay. Most people don't like sociopaths knowing where they live." Shaw had remembered her manners.

"It's just a medical condition. You're no danger to me, and if you were I can't think of any way I'd rather go out than in battle with you."

"You say the sweetest things," Shaw snarked, stepping past Root. "Here."

Root took the bags from Shaw, watched her walk into to the apartment. Dropped the duffle on the couch, took the takeaway to the table where Shaw was watching her expectantly. She put the bags on the table, went into the kitchen for cutlery. When she came back, Shaw was still watching her expectantly, and Root realised that Shaw was waiting for her before she ate. Root had seen Shaw eat before; knew that she must be hungry and that Shaw rarely reserved her manners for the table. But here she was, waiting for Root.

Root took her time coming back to the table, went back into the kitchen for some wine, some glasses, some plates, feeling Shaw's eyes on her back, but when she turned Shaw was always looking away, eyes on the bookshelf, a book she'd retrieved from her duffle and once, on the bed. Eventually Root was satisfied with the setup and sat down next to Shaw, hearing Shaw's stomach rumble in complaint. But still, no words from Shaw. Shaw just openly watched the bag and Root, switching between them.

Then it struck Root, that Shaw was waiting for Root to… feed her? Serve her dinner? Weird, but doable. Root dug into the bags, pulled out the containers.

Steak, with thickcut wedges and two salads. Bottle of tabasco, which Root placed next to Shaw's plate.

Shaw dug in straight away, eating straight out of the container, sprinkling tabasco on the food intermittently, all manners forgotten as she sat with a knee up at the dining table, book forgotten next to her empty plate. Root put hers on a plate, watched as Shaw took bites off the steak on her fork. Root cut hers into pieces, took a bite.

"Oh gosh," Root said unexpectedly, and Shaw looked up, shot her a grin.

"Good, right?" Shaw asked cockily.

"Amazing."

Shaw smiled again, took a sip of wine, turned back to her book.


Shaw slipped off into the shower after dinner, came back in a tight tank tap and short shorts; not Root's this time, and Root was pleased, both by the view and that she'd chosen well the night before. Shaw picked up her book again; Root had glanced at it, something about advanced cryptography for tactical operations. She could follow most of it, but it was boring, too analogue. Although it did get her wanting to advance on the hash she'd been concocting - Diffie-Helman was getting too mainstream to be a safe option any more.

"I got groceries," Root said finally. "I was going to make dinner. But I can make breakfast instead."

Shaw looked up.

"If you'd like to," Shaw said non committedly.

"And I got ice-cream," Root followed, opening the freezer.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I thought we might… NetFlix and chill?"

"You got NetFlix?" Shaw asked, surprised, trying to avoid the overt comeon. Root disappeared back into the kitchen.

"No," Root said, walking back into the main room.

Root joined Shaw on the couch, two spoons and a tub of Ben and Jerry's. Root let her bare shoulder brush against Shaw's then leaned against her when there was no resistance. Human contact had always seemed so overrated to her, but now… now she was seeing benefits. Root put the icecream on the table and picked up the remote, cocked her head sideways.

"I don't have NetFlix, but Finch does," Root said as she typed a username and password into the screen. "I don't have any chill either, when it comes to you" Root sounded matter of fact and Shaw eyed her sideways, but Root just browsed through the shows at random, picking a cartoon eventually. "This'll ruin his algorithm," Root said offhandedly. "He'll be seeing Cartoon Network suggestions for months."

When Root's spoon finally came back empty, Root took the tub and spoons to the kitchen.

"I'm making hot chocolate if you want some," Root called from the kitchen. And Shaw smiled. Yesterday the woman didn't even have milk, today she has hot chocolate. She could bet Root didn't sit at home of an evening, making herself hot chocolate.

"Sure," she said flippantly. She wasn't a fan of hot chocolate normally, but she liked being fed. She didn't like being fussed over, but she liked having food supplied to her, made by someone else. It made her feel… welcome. Wanted. The way she'd felt when Root had opened the takeaway for her, wishing she'd had the willpower to wait for Root to plate it for her.

Root put a mug on the coffee table in front of Shaw, sat next to her, tucked her legs up beneath herself, tilting herself towards Shaw. Root blew on her own hot chocolate, and Shaw watched Root bring it to her lips. Shaw reached for her own, and when she moved back, Root had moved over just enough that she was resting ever so slightly against Shaw.

It wasn't... sexual. It was... intimate. Root's knees were protruding over her lap and when Root wobbled Shaw's hand went out to steady her, hold her knees against her thigh. Anyone else, Shaw would have let fall, would have pushed them away. But Root was being kind enough to let her stay, hadn't made an overt move… and her jeans were warm against Shaw's bare thighs. Root had been suggestive, but she hadn't pressed the issue when shot down - hadn't even been dejected by anything other than Shaw's refusal to share the bed. She always took it with good humour, and now it was making Shaw wonder if the reason Root never worried about Shaw's rejections was because she wasn't serious about her offers. Maybe she just knew it bugged Shaw, and that's what made her twisted, Machine-loving heart happy. But Shaw suspected that wasn't right either. Root...worried about Shaw, and Shaw had caught the way Root looked at her; it was the same if she knew Shaw could see her or not. There was attraction there, but Root seemed to be willing to wait, not seeming to care if Shaw ever changed her mind, just always letting her know that the option was on the table.

"That's good," Shaw said finally, nonchalantly. The smile on Root's face made her feel… good about what she'd said, it made her want to say more nice things to her, to make her happy. To make both of them happy. When she looked down, her thumb was rubbing across Root's knee with a mind of its own.

But Shaw was… what she was, and she knew it wouldn't end well. She was pretty much torturing herself here, with everything she couldn't have. Or rather, everything she could have. Root was so obviously willing, all Shaw would need to do was press her against the couch and she'd melt like the mini marshmallows in her hot chocolate. But Shaw wouldn't be good for Root. She'd say the wrong things, wouldn't show up when Root was expecting her, all the things that books had taught her people didn't like in a partner.

Shaw shook her head. While her thoughts had distracted her, Root had rested her cheek against Shaw's temple, her hand wrapped through Shaw's arm. Shaw's stomach clenched, but she drank her hot chocolate slowly, as if unaffected by the unexpected affection.


They didn't mention the empty bed. Root didn't bring up where Shaw intended to sleep. She just satisfied herself sharing a couch, pressed together, Shaw obviously comfortable with Root snug against her like that.

Shaw turned in first, stood and walked to the bed and lifted the blanket without a word. Root took a shower and turned in not long behind her. When Root slipped under the covers, Shaw turned to face her.

"Want to snuggle?" Root asked suggestively, but Shaw didn't answer. Just rolled Root away from her, pulled herself in behind Root. Threw an arm over her torso.

"Shut up Root."

"Gladly," Root said, snuggling back into Shaw. It wasn't exactly what she'd wanted from the situation, but it was more than she'd hoped for. She ran her fingers over Shaw's knuckles, Shaw's arm tight over her ribs.

"Go to sleep", Shaw mumbled behind her, Root feeling the breeze of her words over her cheek.


Shaw awoke suddenly, lay still assessing the situation.

Root moved again behind her, arm snug around her ribcage. Root's body felt warm against her, which meant Root had to have just rolled over as their body temperatures hadn't acclimatized yet.

Root's breath hitched when her pinky found bare skin where Shaw's shirt had ridden up in her sleep. It lingered a moment, then Root pulled the shirt lower, rested her hand over the material again.

Root understood consent. She'd push Shaw, but she knew Shaw was allowing it. She knew Shaw enjoyed her flirting, or she'd have pushed her away, would have not stayed with her. But she wouldn't touch Shaw's bare skin without permission; not skin normally covered by clothing anyway. Wouldn't continue to touch without consent.

Shaw felt so small and safe in Root's embrace. Like when she was small, and she'd sneak into her parents bed, not frightened just… looking for her connection, looking for protection against the worries about her schoolmates thinking she was weird. Normally Shaw was the one doing the protecting, and if Root knew she was awake she'd never admit to it, never admit to allowing it, enjoying it. Shaw had seen Root take down dozens of trained operatives at once; she felt safe here. She wondered, briefly, what Reese and Finch thought of these sleeping arrangements, wondered if they knew Root only had the one bed. Wondered if they'd thought Shaw had caved. Given in to Root's flirting. Neither of them acted any different to them, neither of them seemed to bat an eye at Root's obvious flirtations but they also knew Shaw didn't do… this.

This, which she was doing. Spending more than one night with the same person, someone who was affectionate with her, someone who was obviously attracted to her… and she hadn't acted on it yet.

Shaw didn't mind so much if it stayed like this. Work, then home with this comfortable bed, warmed with affection from someone she didn't hate. Felt something other than disdain for. Even the people she slept with didn't get to cuddle her like this; she'd slap them away in her sleep, if she'd let herself fall asleep, leave in the middle of the night.

Shaw thought back to that night in the CIA safehouse, plenty of room but Root always in hers. Coming up behind her, passing her with a hand on her hip when there was plenty of room to walk around. Root had been so wound up after that, she'd had to relieve some pressure when she got home the next night.

But now sharing this space felt safe, and the intimacy felt… normal. There was still a charge in the air, like a storm was waiting to break over them, and once Shaw had a home to go to she'd take care of that, but it wasn't urgent.

"You're awake," Root whispered. Shaw had forgotten to slow her breathing. "And obviously not hating this."

Shaw froze, caught out. Root's hand slid over her stomach, and Shaw rolled over to face her.

"I'm going back to the couch," Shaw said, matter of fact. "If you say another word."

Root said nothing, but Shaw could see the glint of her eyes watching her in the darkness, could feel Root's palm tighten around her hip. Shaw knew that by letting Root know she was awake she'd played her hand and lost; Root knew now that Shaw would tolerate her affection.

Shaw was always the man in her relationships. Or... whatever it was she had. One night stands. Some men liked it. They were so... emotional, these days.

But Root... Root treated her like a woman. Root held her. Root made her feel... attractive. She could see what those men had liked about being held.

Root's hand shifted up Shaw's ribcage, rested on her face, tangled in her hair. Shaw rolled away from Root again, shrugged her off gently, ashamed at being caught in the comfort Root had offered. Root slid in behind her again wordlessly, pressed against her back with an arm over her.


Shaw woke up on Root's chest again, cheek resting on a soft breast. She pulled away clutching her cheek.

"We have to stop waking like this." Root said, watching Shaw curiously.

"I should have a place today. I'll be out of your hair." Shaw could feel the blood in her cheeks, a flush to her face.

"Oh, I don't mind sweetie, but if you're going to want to access the real estate you should at least do something with it." Shaw noticed her legs tangled with Root's. Noticed how well rested she felt, more well rested than she'd felt in decades. Since her father died and people started noticing something was wrong with her. She disengaged, rolled away from Root.

"You said something about breakfast?" Shaw asked, rubbing her face.

Root got out of bed, her shirt ridden up over her ribs.

"Of course."

There was some whispering and Shaw rolled over, smiled into the pillow. She was being made breakfast by a self-trained hacker and killer, assisted by a superintelligent machine.


Author's note:

Please review if you liked it.

Struggling with my own machine and my own crippledness so this is a nice escape.