Root woke up alone, which she should be used to, but the last several times she had woken today she'd had company. It took her a moment to clear her head and look for her companion of the previous night.

Shaw came in view shortly, and Root shook her head to clear her vision a little; Shaw was ringed in light and Root took it as a sign. Shaw helped Root to sit up a little and put a plate on her lap. Pop Tarts, strawberry. Root's nose wrinkled and Shaw huffed, looked away. Root took a bite, then flinched, bringing a hand to her temple.

"Oh. Right. Head injury." Shaw took away the Pop Tarts, and Root saw her slipping them between her teeth as she walked back to the kitchenette, saw the sway of Shaw's gait, the musculature of her shoulders in the tight tank top Shaw was wearing. Root heard Shaw rummage through some cupboards.

"I have soup?" Shaw asked, and Root groaned into the pillow as she rolled over. Shaw came back then with some tylenol and some water.

"I'd rather have a shower," Root said. Shaw left her with the water and came back with some saran wrap. She covered Root's ear and knuckles quickly, then looked away as Root tugged her shirt up. Root knew that Shaw had seen more of her than this, had touched more of her than this, but she watched as Shaw blushed. Shaw taped the saran wrap over the bandage, added a second layer, looked up and met Root's eyes. Root could feel the tension drain from Shaw's fingers then, could feel the way Shaw's fingers relax against her ribs as she pulled the shirt back down.

"You need anything, call out."

'I can think of something you could give me a hand with," Root said, but her heart wasn't in it and Shaw could tell. Root sighed and stood slowly, Shaw watching carefully from where she had perched on the side of the bed,

The shower was hot and glorious. Root washed out her hair, considered lingering a while in the steamy water before remembering that she needed to keep her wounds dry, and that Shaw was waiting for her in the next room. The door opened and Shaw, back carefully turned, placed some clothes on the counter, and a towel. Root watched her leave, wishing she was braver.


The pants were capri's on Root; Root felt ridiculous. She unwrapped the saran wrap and waited until Shaw was in the bathroom to slip away.


Shaw came back out, toweling her hair, to the smell of pancakes. Pancakes, and the sight of Root in an apron over some clothes that were far more suited to someone of her height.

"I ducked out for some groceries," Root said, ducking her head, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously.

It was... The word that sprung to Shaw's mind was adorable, but Shaw shook her had because she doesn't use words like that for anyone except Bear.

Shaw jumped up onto the counter next to the stove, stole a pancake from the pan. Ate it contentedly as Root tutted at her and started cooking another, small smile on her face.

From here, Shaw could see Root's black nails as they brushed past the shell of Root's ear, pushing her hair back again. Shaw swallowed sharply, looked away. Root turned from the pan, put her hand on Shaw's bare knees, rising over her shorts to the front bones of her hips. Shaw breathed in pancake and coughed, while Root gave her a knowing look and turned back to the stove.

"Head feeling better then?" Shaw asked, pleased to see some liveliness back in Root's manner.

"Marginally," Root replied, plating a pancake and handing it to Shaw.

Shaw doesn't do sleepovers. Can't let her guard down around others. If she has needs she never spends the night. Too easy for someone to get the jump on her if she was asleep. Too easy to fall into slack habits, to make someone else a target. Can't let anyone know where she lives, even if she used to move every few days out of habit. But it had been a month now since she and Root had sporadically shared their nights, and Shaw found herself looking at Root as she hummed, flipping a pancake, and found herself wondering if she was ready to change that policy.

"Are we..." Root started, then paused, blushed. She took one hand from the frying pan, rested it on Shaw's bare thigh.

Shaw froze; she'd been here before and it had never gone well. She liked Root; the woman bugged her less than most and they tend to relate on a lot of levels. She'd hate to have to end this before it got started, but this question was coming too soon.

"Are we friends?" Root asked, finally, and Shaw laughed. "No I mean it," Root said, looking a little hurt. "Are we friends?" Root turned back to the pan, stacking pancakes as she made them, head ducked again, curtain of hair between Shaw and herself now. Shaw tucked it back behind Root's ear clumsily, careful of the bandage covering the rip.

"Well, I come for you when you're injured. You do the same for me. We help each other." Shaw shrugged, finished chewing. She reached for another pancake but Root smacked her hand away gently.

"That's just our work though. You'd do the same for John." Root paid more attention to the pancakes, and Shaw felt something sink inside her.

"I consider him a friend," Shaw said slowly. "Too."

"Too? As in, as well as someone else?" Root asked coyly.

"As well as you. We're friends. If you sent me a message to meet you somewhere and we didn't have a case, I wouldn't be too pissed. And I don't mind being in the same room as you."

"We're friends," Root said with relief. "Don't go dying on me. Last friend I had did that."

Shaw nodded; she'd heard the story from John. It's easy enough for her to believe that Root hasn't had a friend since before she was a teenager; Shaw's the same way herself. People are just... people she knows. People who's death she avenges. People she has to kill. Just people.

Root is the first person who looks friend-shaped.

Shaw let Root plate a stack of pancakes for her, then grabbed her ereader and some maple syrup, sat at the table.

"Finch has asked if we really need two places. You know how money is, at the moment," Root said hesitantly, joining Shaw with her own plate stacked with pancakes.

Shaw froze again. This morning was full of pitfalls.

"We'd be too easy a target if we clustered," Shaw says, once she swallowed her mouthful. Root chewed thoughtfully, and Shaw could see the way her right eye squinted as she bit down.

Root nodded slowly, energy clearly running down. "You're right. As long as we need the shadow map, as long as we're..."

"As long as Samaritan is after us we have to live these weird half-lives. We've been lucky enough as it is; I didn't think we'd last this long once it was online."

"You're saying if it wasn't for Samaritan... Maybe?" Root pushed a slice on pancake around on her plate, not looking up.

"Sure, Root, maybe someday. But for now we have to be careful. If we spend too much time together, they find one of us they've got us both."

Shaw heard Root mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "Goddamn Samaritan cockblockers." Shaw doesn't care right now; these sleepovers have given her some of the best meals of her adult life. But part of her wonders what it would be like to wake up to pancakes and the vulnerable morning Root she has gotten to know over the last month, and that part of her agrees with Root's statement.