A/N: It is finally here! I'm sorry for the extremely long pause. I know, it's unforgivable. And I hope that some of you still remember where I left this and are willing to pick it up again. The truth is, If-Then-Else hit us hard like a heavy truck and my brain got really affected by it, so much that it wasn't letting me continue this story. It finally seems to have recovered. So, I won't take any more of your time. I hope this chapter makes it up for the long wait. Don't forget to leave a review.

Fifteen days had passed since Root and Shaw captured Claire from under Samaritan's grip. With help from John, they managed to leave the house they had found refuge in and return to the abandoned subway station a few days after the incident. Root had recovered rather quickly, although some swift motions still hurt, a lot.

Whilst she was still recovering, Root would stay in the subway watching over Claire and helping the rest of team as they found and saved numbers from the hell that Samaritan was still making of New York City. Meanwhile, their plan was to show Claire the big picture; the side she didn't know of her protector; and although she hadn't said anything, Root knew that Claire was starting to doubt herself, to doubt Samaritan's real intentions, to rethink her link with the AI. Root hadn't pushed much though, choosing to let Claire figure where she wanted to stand on her own. If it was Root in Claire's shoes, she knew it wouldn't be with other people's words that she'd change her belief in the Machine. She didn't think nothing would ever make her doubt the Machine, but it certainly wouldn't be words or promises. She remembered that time Greer tried to persuade her, how for a brief second she doubted herself, but how quickly she discarded the idea. Nonetheless she hoped that by seeing the real intents of Samaritan and the good that the Machine was bringing to the world, that maybe like that, Claire would reconsider.

Shaw had stayed put the longest she could, but she would eventually get too bored and anxious by staying down there and she would beg Harold and John to let her help them out with the numbers. So far it had worked out fine. Shaw would use the shadow map to stay away from Samaritan and its agents, and when she had to jump out of it, she would use her skills to keep her face hidden from any cameras. Root knew that they were just being lucky, too lucky if she was to be honest. She also knew that having Sameen grounded would be almost as dangerous as letting her walk freely outside.

Now it was time for Root to leave the nest too. She felt she didn't need any more time to recover, and apparently the Machine thought so too, once She had just whispered a new number in her implant. Finch was in the subway with her and Claire, while John and Shaw were out. She thought of the two of them shooting kneecaps and knocking down doors and she wondered the next time she'd be able to have some fun alongside Shaw again. She put the thought aside when the Machine buzzed some more details on her next task. She informed Finch that she had to go and he nodded although he was a bit reluctant with the idea.

"Take care of her." Root said with a smile, motioning to Claire with one wobbly finger.

When she reached the street the cold air of New York's night welcomed her. She inhaled deeply, the freezing air tightening her lungs. She looked up at the dark sky, blurred by the city lights, before walking in the direction the Machine sent her.

Root had been sitting at the bar's counter for an hour already. The spot she was occupying enabled her to keep an eye on her number at all times. But a good looking woman in a leather jacket, alone, at 1 am in a bar also enabled a lot of unwanted guests to annoy her. She was glad that for some reason the young bartender seemed to understand that she didn't want to be bothered and actually helped her get rid of some of the annoying guys.

She still hadn't found out what was the deal with her number. Why he had been sitting in that bar, with two other seemingly ordinary men, for more than an hour. Up until then, the only threat she could see coming was their own boredom. But she had to be the Machine's eyes once there were no cameras inside that place.

Root asked the bartender for a mojito and it didn't take him long to hand her the drink. As he did, a muscled man, in his early thirties sat on the stool beside Root blatantly looking at her with his best attempt of a seductive smirk. Root smiled back at him, her smile more sarcastic than anything else, but he didn't seem to understand it.

"So, what is a girl like you doing alone in here this late?" He asked.

Boring pickup lines. She thought.

"I'm waiting for a friend." Root answered, sipping on her drink before glaring back at her admirer with an uninterested look. But again, he didn't seem to understand it. Instead, he unexpectedly came nearer, getting up from his stool and invading her personal space too quickly. Her first instinct was to grab the taser hidden in her pocket and press it on his torso.

"If you want a new friend just let me now." He whispered to close to her ear whilst leaving a piece of paper with his phone number on the counter, next to her drink, before stepping back with a smile.

Root eased the grip on the taser when she watched him retreat, just smiling back at him until he turned his back to her. She glanced at the handwritten numbers and rolled her eyes, crumpling the piece of paper and throwing it to the floor beside her.

After drinking a few more gulps from her drink, Root started to feel that something was wrong. She looked at the blond guy with his two friends still sitting in the same place that they had been since she got there, everything was still fine with them. But something was wrong - with herself. Root looked at the drink between her hands as she felt her heart beating a little faster, the blood flowing to the extremities of her body, her body temperature increasing slightly and her head starting to feel light.

She knew what was happening. She put her instincts on maximum alert and looked around the bar to see where her friend from a few minutes earlier was. And she spotted him, on the opposite end, dancing and laughing with a couple of friends.

Damn it.

She looked back at her guy before asking the Machine to connect her with the subway hideout.

"Harold?" She asked when the call was connected.

But it wasn't his voice on the other end, and it brought a smile to her face. "Finch has gone home already. What do you want Root?" It was Shaw.

"Oh nothing really," She said ironically. "I just may or may not need a hand here."

There was a short silence in the line before Shaw spoke again.

"Root, where are you?" Her tone was not a worried one but rather intrigued. Shaw's discernment was sharp, of that Root had no doubt, but she wondered if the other woman had already noticed that something was off only by her voice.

"At a bar."

"Are you drunk?" Shaw asked, annoyed.

Root chuckled, feeling herself more lightheaded with every second that passed. This seemed so funny for no apparent reason. "No. But I'm pretty sure this hot guy managed to slip something into my drink that is kind of blurring my judgment and I'm having conflicting feelings on whether I should kill him or not." She said. "And I may need your help in saving a number in the meantime, I'm not sure my aim will be accurate." She added after watching a couple of large men entering the bar and joining the table where her number was.

"Just – don't shoot anyone. Tell me where you are and I'll be there ASAP." Shaw said.

When she arrived at the entrance of the bar where Root said she was, Shaw immediately knew there was trouble inside as she saw a couple of guys dragging another one out by the arms.

Shaw quickened her pace and got inside, finding Root as soon as she did. The taller woman was now holding a familiar taser in one hand and a gun up in the other, pointing it at a table where three men stood with their arms up whilst two others growled in pain on the floor.

"Sam!" Root exclaimed, with more excitement than normal, as soon as she noticed Shaw. "Do you mind? My arm is getting tired." She added with a pout whilst tilting her head slightly at the gun in her hand.

Shaw walked further, untucking her own gun from her belt and raising it in the same direction Root was pointing at, but glancing around the place questioningly before actually paying attention to what she was supposed to be targeting, watching the scared bartender not far from where Root was, his hands shaky.

"Why did you take so long? You left me no choice but to shoot them. And I told you my aim could be erroneous." Root said as she lowered the gun in her hand and handed it to the bartender. Shaw furrowed her brows, looking from Root back to the guys crooked on the floor, noticing one of them grabbing his crotch while crying. Her eyes opened wide.

"Did you just shoot him – in the balls?" Shaw asked in disbelief.

Shaw watched as Root lingered a few feet and sat down in the stool, slightly losing her balance when she grabbed the counter with sloppy hands to make herself turn in the seat. She just answered with a shrug.

Shaw couldn't avoid the chuckle that escaped her mouth and shook her head at Root, this was somehow pretty hilarious. Root was clearly high. And Shaw was pretty sure the guy that she saw being dragged out of the bar was the guy that drugged her. She could bet he had been tased, counting on the device in Root's left hand.

"They are part of a small terrorist cell and they were using this bar to make secret meeting and set their next plans. Hank here," Root said, pointing at the bartender, "was glad to lend me a gun… Well, he didn't exactly lent it to me, I just knew he had it under the counter." She added with a silly smile.

"I guess you don't really need my help after all." Shaw said whilst trying to contain herself from laughing at the way Root was talking, the words coming out of her mouth slower and requiring more effort to ramble from her tongue due to whatever was flowing in her veins.

Root looked at Shaw tenderly, her lips curving up in one side more than the other. "I guess not, but it's always nice to have you looking out for me, Sameen."

Shaw didn't enjoy the implication in the words – that she came because she worried what might happen to Root.

"Let's get out of here." Root said as she stood from her stool, giving the gun back to Hank and walked past Shaw towards the exit, bumping softly against the smaller woman's shoulder – if it had been intentional or not, Shaw wasn't quite sure. "The cops are on their way."

Shaw glanced one last time at the guy on the other side of the counter, holding the gun up with mortified eyes. She then turned around and headed to the exit as well, where Root was leaning against the door, holding it open for her.

Shaw followed Root down the street of bar and clubs after they left. Root was more like jumping around rather than walking normally and it only annoyed Shaw even more.

Eventually she turned around, facing Shaw and placing her hands on Shaw shoulders.

"You look like you need a drink. We should go get a drink, together. Don't you think?" She asked, giving a gentle squeeze on Shaw's arms before turning and walking away again.

"No, we shouldn't." Shaw said, but it didn't make Root stop. "Root, where are you going? We have to go back. I left Bear ready to attack Claire if she as much as moved an inch." She stopped her sentence halfway as she saw Root looking at her over her shoulder with a huge grin on her face, defiant, and then walked inside a club.

She growled, shaking her head before following Root inside. The music was loud and the air was thick from smoke and human transpiration.

"C'mon, what are you doing?" Shaw asked, grabbing Root by the arm forcing her to pay attention to what she was saying. Suddenly, Shaw seemed to have all of Root's attention on her, except maybe not on what she was saying. She noticed Root's eyes on her lips and then a slick hand touching wrapping around her waist, pulling them just a bit closer.

"Root." Shaw scowled, placing a deep warning in her voice. But it didn't stop Root from pulling closer and lowering her head slightly in a quick but precise motion to capture Shaw's lips. Shaw merely had time to turn her face to the side to prevent the kiss, Root's mouth finding her cheek instead, kissing the skin tenderly, as if not that unhappy with the second option.

Shaw lifted her hands to Root's shoulders, pushing her away. Root looked back into the other woman's eyes as she fought Shaw strength and stepped closer again. Shaw stared back at her, her manner so deadpan that any person in their right mind would not push it anymore. But Root wasn't any person, and definitely not in her right mind, certainly not then.

"What is it, Shaw?" Root asked sheepishly in Shaw ear as her hands continued to slither up and down Shaw's sides and back, between her jacket and the thin black shirt she was wearing. Whatever was flowing on her blood giving her the courage she never actually had to do anything other than boldly flirting.

Root brought one hand to cup Shaw's face, and for some reason Shaw didn't shove her away this time. Closing her eyes for a brief moment when Root's lips found the sensitive spot in her neck just below the jawbone, the tip of her warm tongue licking the skin in between softly. Shaw cursed her body for actually enjoying the attention. Maybe that was the reason why she hadn't really pushed Root away… She reopened her eyes.

"This is not going to happen, Root." Shaw said, the words not sounding as convincing as she intended, though. She grabbed Root's upper arms with firm hands, her anger building up in the tightened muscles.

"Why not Shaw? Why can't you just give in? Just once." Root asked. Her fingers dared dangerously to the hem of Shaw's shirt whilst she aimed for Shaw's lips with her own again. But once again Shaw dodged Root's onrush. Shaw grabbed Root's delicate hand then, squeezing them a little too tight. She gasped.

"Root," Shaw glared into the taller woman's eyes. "You're high as a kite. And there is no way this is going to happen". Root watched the words being sculpted by Shaw's lips. Somehow those last ones coming out sharp and hurting a little.

"So, shall we go now?" Shaw finished, her gaze blank and rigid.

Root lowered her head in defeat whilst releasing her hold on Shaw. When she looked back at her a smile dared on her lips.

"Maybe someday you'll understand that you don't have to put those walls up with me all the time and that you can just enjoy the moment, for a change." Root said, trying to stand her ground. She threw Shaw the best smirk she managed.

"Yeah, sure Root. Maybe someday." Shaw rumbled before turning around and heading to the exit.