One small note before I get started: I confused myself in the middle of writing the last chapter. I corrected the issue, but from here on out, the Russian mafia factions will be called Hotel Moscow and Drugonov. To be clear, Hotel Moscow is the faction that the POI is the accountant for. Drugonov is the faction from last chapter's poker game. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 4:

Root lurked in the shadows of the team's subway hideout. The only sounds around her were the thuds of Sameen's fists and legs making contact with a sparring dummy and the grunts of effort that accompanied those hits. Root was almost positive that Shaw was aware of her presence, but the other woman had yet to address her and the hacker wasn't ready to reveal herself quite yet. So, she continued to watch Shaw's brooding.

How long she had been at this, Root couldn't say. She did know, though, that the sparring session was already well underway when she had arrived to the subway nearly an hour ago. She had a strong hunch as to why Sameen was currently beating up on a defenseless dummy, as well. The machine had told her to be here and she suspected that this was the reason.

Another disagreement, no doubt.

Root smirked as she continued to watch Shaw from the shadows. She had resigned herself a long time ago to just how stubborn the assassin before her was. Sameen would learn to forgive the machine in time, though Root doubted that time was near. She never pressed the issue; knowing that Shaw would come to her about it on her own terms.

Still, she did have to admit, it was fun to watch Shaw's version of sulking.

Deciding that she'd had enough of being a passive observer, Root stepped from the shadows, watching as Shaw threw a few more punches before stopping to wipe the sweat from her brow with her forearm. Root missed the slight smirk that formed on Sameen's features when she finally stepped out, knowing that the hacker had been watching her for a while.

"Honey, as hot as it is to watch you kick the crap out of that dummy, don't you think a live opponent would be better?" Shaw's smirk grew in response as Root closed a little bit more distance behind her.

Yes. Yes, she did.

Shaw had been itching for some good hand-to-hand action for days now, and apparently she wasn't going to get it in the field quite yet.

"Are you volunteering?" Shaw turned, regarding the taller woman with a neutral expression. Although, her eyes were bright with anticipation and mischief.

"Maybe…"

Root returned Shaw's look, albeit with her own little flirtatious smirk.

"Alright then."

The two women squared off. They stood facing each other standing six feet apart. Bear, who had been with Root while she was hidden, watched the exchange with curiosity from where he sat in the shadows. Root and Shaw stood like that for several long moments just staring each other down. Their stare was the promise of a hot iron to the face; it was being woken with a tazer at 4 AM. It was a knockout punch to the face in an underground tunnel; ten hours to kill in a CIA safehouse with naught but a tazer, a hood, and zip ties. That stare was every bit of physical harm they'd ever done to each other…and they lived for those moments.

Root lunged at Shaw, throwing the first punch. Shaw deflected and grabbed Root's arm, taking her to the ground and pinning her in a full-nelson hold. They struggled on the ground like that for several moments. With her breathing labored as she continued to fight against the hold, Root asked:

"Is that better, sweetie?"

"You know it." Shaw grunted with a smirk.

"Good…"

With little warning, Root drove her elbow into the assassin's unguarded rib cage. She grunted as she struggled to keep her hold, but it loosened just enough to allow the taller woman to twist in her hold and nail her a second time. This time the blow was to Shaw's solar plexus. Shaw's hold loosened considerably after that hit, and Root wiggled out of it and attempted to place Shaw in a sleeper hold.

It was true, Root and Shaw enjoyed these games they played that ran in the vein of Spy vs. Spy, but there was another element to each of the physical aspects of their relationship. The communication. Both women were still at a place where there were some things they just couldn't speak of to the other after the whole ordeal with the stock exchange and the fall of Samaritan. The words left unspoken were conveyed in their actions during these moments of physical aggression...or physical intimacy. Every punch was a word, every kick and every caress was a sentence, and every kiss was another paragraph still.

The two women wrestled a bit more on the ground before the fight was taken back to the standing position, and punches and kicks were reintroduced into the fray.

"You've…improved." Shaw commented of Root's fighting technique in between punches. She was quick to block yet another aimed at her head after her comment.

"I had a good mentor." Root smirked.

The hacker went on the defensive as Shaw unleashed a combo of roundhouse kicks, snap jabs, and a single upper cut that Root narrowly blocked.

"Are you talking about me or John?" Shaw asked teasingly, faking a jab and then nailing Root in the face through her lowered guard.

"Well, no offence to Lurch, " Root spoke through slightly gritted teeth as the pair continued their sparring session, "but he's really not my type."

Shaw was just about to retort when the other woman continued speaking, looking at her with seductive grin. "In fact…"

Not a moment after she spoke, Root moved deftly, executing a perfect take down and coming to straddle the assassin's torso. Shaw could've stopped the move—Root wasn't that quick with some of the more complex techniques, yet—but she wanted to see where Root was going with this as she hovered above her with that smoldering, alluring, dangerous look in her gaze that almost made Shaw feel powerless to look away. This particular look always reminded her of the doomed bug flying toward the blue light only to be zapped.

Except Shaw enjoyed that part.

Root leaned in slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. Shaw waited with anticipation; planning. When Root finally leaned her sweaty body down flush with Shaw's own, she leaned over next to Shaw's ear:

"I prefer sociopaths who can treat bullet wounds with Jack Daniels." Her voice was breathy in Shaw's ear and had that ever present quality to it that was akin to a siren attempting to lure her prey. It was a quality that Shaw had found herself falling victim to quite frequently of late, and the same was almost true of this occasion.

Almost.

Shaw rolled them over so that she was on top with her arms braced on either side of Root's head and their faces inches apart. She took the briefest of moments to take in Roots dilated eyes, flushed face, and parted lips. She could feel Root's breath hitting her chin in short bursts. She smirked somewhat impishly.

"How flattering." She spoke, leaning down and making contact with Root's lips. The action was a stark contrast to the violence of the sparring session they had spent the last good while engaged in. It was soft, it was languid, and it was loving. It was also far too short for Root's liking. Just as she snaked her hands up the back of Shaw's head to pull her closer, the other woman pulled away.

With another smirk, Shaw finished her thought, "But we both need a shower." She stood and offered a hand to Root, who was still in a bit of an aroused fog on the floor.

Root was, however, aware enough to note the vague hint of suggestion in Shaw's voice at her mention of a shower.

"You're place or mine?"

Several hours later would find Shaw fast asleep as morning dawned on New York and the sun began to shine through the windows of her loft. She was laid on her side tangled up in the bed sheets and she snored as she continued to sleep through the sounds of New York's morning grind…and the smell of breakfast.

Root had been roused from her own sleep some time ago by the buzzing of The Machine in her ear. Unable to go back to sleep, she had settled for making food. She knew that Shaw would be hungry when she woke up and a hungry Shaw was not a pleasant Shaw. Especially not given the conversation that they would need to start the day with in light of The Machine's directions.

While Sameen slept on, the hacker busied herself with the last few strips of bacon as a couple of bagels were heating in the toaster. She grabbed two paper plates from Shaw's mostly barren cabinets just as the bagels popped up. Electing to allow Shaw just a few more minutes of sleep, Root collected some scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate for herself and grabbed a plastic fork from the collection of cheap utensils that sat in a Solo cup on the counter.

Once she'd finished with her food and tossed the plate in the trash, Root went back over to the stove and plucked a strip of bacon from the plate next to the pan. It was wake up time for Sameen.

With a certain deviousness in her stride and on her face, Root slinked over to the bed. She found that Shaw had shifted to burrow further into the blanket, bringing it partially over her head. That wouldn't do. Carefully, Root pulled the blanket just far enough down Shaw's head to expose her features, docile with sleep. She held out the strip of bacon and dragged it slowly back and forth underneath Sameen's nose. After a moment, she began to stir and Root was only slightly surprised when her hand shot out to grab the bacon strip before her eyes had even opened.

"Where's the rest of it?" Shaw grunted in a voice that was heavy with sleep as she sat up against the headboard and popped the heavenly strip of meat into her mouth.

Root grinned openly at Shaw's appetite. "On the stove. I left you a plate."

Shaw grunted something that vaguely sounded like "Thanks."

She stood and made her way over to the table. So focused was she on filling her stomach that she remained oblivious to Root's sudden, yet subtle, shift in mood. Root knew Shaw wasn't going to like the order of business for the day.

About half an hour later, once Shaw had eaten and changed clothes, both women were collecting weapons and ammo for the day when Shaw finally started the conversation that Root had known was imminent.

"So, what's your machine got on the agenda today?" Root noted that her tone showed only the slightest measure of the disdain it had held where the machine was concerned. Maybe that was a good sign.

On her end, Shaw knew that Root had received instructions from the machine early that morning. Root only woke as she had when the machine spoke to her and Shaw had been roused just slightly by the shifting of weight in the bed.

Root silently thanked Harold for having texted her with a cryptic update only minutes ago.

"Well, You and John will be busy investigating a new lead on the Decima front." Good so far. Shaw's face remained neutral and she gave the faintest tilt of her head in concession. "As for me…Lionel got some new information out of your accountant last night. He thinks somebody inside Hotel Moscow framed him for embezzling mafia money. I'm going under cover." She had conveniently hedged over the bit where Harold was going with her. Still, as predicted, Shaw's reaction was decidedly less than happy.

"Like hell." She hissed. "It's my number, and you're not going undercover in the Russian mob alone."

There were so many things Root wanted to say. She wanted to argue, she wanted to fight, she wanted to tell Shaw that she wasn't going off alone either. But she settled for her usual flirty attitude that was the default when she felt too insecure to deal with certain feelings.

"I'm a big girl, Sameen." She smirked "I can handle myself against a few Russians. Besides, Harry insists that you and John are both needed to follow a new lead."

Shaw was having none of it though. Apparently, she wanted to fight about this. "So? You're just as capable as I am. Why can't you go with Reese?"

Root almost laughed at the question. The answer was so obvious. "Because you're Persian, Sam." For the tiniest second, the hacker thought she saw surprise flash across Shaw's features. "You're Persian and you look Persian. No one would ever buy you as a Serbian.

Shaw scoffed, "Right, and you don't look Italian."

"Well, I can at least speak passable Russian." Root shrugged in response.

For a moment, they stood in silence and it seemed as if that would be the end of the discussion. However, Shaw still hadn't had her last word.

"I still don't get it. The machine summons a whole bunch of agents none of us even knew existed just to help take down Samaritan, and now they're in the wind again. Why can't she give you a little back up?"

"She would if it were necessary." Root was speaking somewhat seriously now, the traces of her playful tone had begun to slip away as the conversation dragged on. "But you have to understand, Sam, those agents? They have their own responsibilities just as we have ours. The machine has a plan, I've come to understand that again."

"Right—" Shaw started to argue again, but Root cut her off. She spoke to her in a serious tone of voice that she'd only used a handful of times since they met. Notably, when Shaw had just had her cover blown and after the fall of Samaritan when the two spoke of their time apart for the first time. It was a tone devoid of Root's usual playfulness and flirtation.

"Listen, I know you have a lot of issues with the machine right now…Issues you need to keep working through, but when you're ready, I'll tell you why I trust the machine." Shaw stood with rooted to her spot in the floor just staring at Root out of the side of her eye with her lips pursed, probably to bite back further argument.

Root continued to speak, gazing at Shaw with understanding in her eyes. "In the meantime, though, you know that you can trust me even if you can't trust the machine yet."

Shaw nodded slightly in assent after mulling the words over. She did know. She could trust Root. She could trust John. She could trust Harold. That would have to be enough for right now.

"Good." Root smiled briefly, "Now let's go. We have to get to the subway."

Shaw led the way to the door and just as her hand made it to the knob, she felt Root's touch on her arm and turned to meet the serious gaze that had settled back into Root's eyes.

"One more thing you should know: the two months after the stock exchange incident are the only time I've ever considered removing the implant."

Satisfied that Shaw understood what she had meant to imply with that statement, Root ushered the assassin out the door.

Root and Shaw arrived at the subway to find that Reese was already present. Curiosly, Finch was nowhere to be seen. As she made her way over to Bear's bed to say good morning to the dog, Shaw wondered about his missing presence.

"He said he had a couple things to take care of." Reese answered by way of cryptic explanation from the subway car, pulling out cleaning solvent and field stripping his pistol. Shaw joined him momentarily to clean her own weapons.

"So, do you know anything about this new lead?" Shaw shot a quick look in Root's direction. She was slightly disappointed when John shook his head. "Not much about what we're doing. Just that Decima is dealing with government agents."

Shaw continued to wipe down the barrel of her field stripped firearm absentmindedly as she considered that. Decima/Samaritan operatives plus government agents couldn't possibly bode well for them…or for countless others. Her thoughts were interrupted by Harold's arrival to the subway and she momentarily paused her actions to come out of the train car as he greeted each of them. Down to business.

John was the first to address the issue at hand.

"So, what about Samaritan, Finch? I take it your worm found something."

Finch nodded, going over to his computer to pull up some files he'd collected. "It did indeed, Mr. Reese."

"Wait…worm?"

Harold turned to address the group. Each of them were looking intently at him with different measures of anticipation and confusion.

"As you know, Mr. Reese took it upon himself to survey Decima's new location. In doing so, he observed people he believed to be government agents. I used a worm to gather information from the cell phones of everyone near Mr. Reese and I believe I have found our next lead."

He turned around to his computer, pulled up a file, and expanded it so that the group could see it.

"I found multiple references to a group called the Anarchy Council. From what I can gather, they 're a group composed of ex federal agents whose objective is the dismantling of various government programs."

Shaw perked up, recognizing the name. She had dealt with some of its members before.

"I know them. I ran across a few members back in my ISA days."

"I thought that might be the case." Harold acknowledged, "They're activities do favor the realm of cyber terrorism. That being the case, do you have any guesses as to why Control would simply let them be."

Shaw simply shrugged, "We had a few brushes with these guys, but the ISA always seemed more interested in acting against extremist terrorism. I didn't ask many questions."

Still, they were going to need to ask questions now. Finch had a pretty strong feeling that Control would have some helpful intelligence on this group, even if she had chosen not to take action against them. The trick would be getting her to share that information. He gave a slight tilt of his head in acceptance of Shaw's answer.

"Still, we need that intelligence now; which is why you and Mr. Reese have a flight to Washington D.C. in your future. Now, Ms. Groves, " Harold turned to speak to Root, ignoring the twin expressions of distaste he was getting from John and Shaw. Neither one of them particularly cared for a sit-down with Control. And to top that off…

"…about this number." Shaw tensed even further at the mention of the number that Root would be working alone. "I've picked up everything you require." He handed her a bag that contained various different surveillance devices and a pair of gray contacts to help her look more her part.

Root noticed that Shaw had gone back to the armory to resume nervously cleaning her guns while Reese sat reading up on the Anarchy council.

"Now what's our plan?" Finch asked Root.

"Just like we talked about Harry: I'll sweet talk my way in, make them think I'm from another chapter of the faction—I made a phone call to the head of the family early this morning, so they're expecting us."

Their voices had travelled to the armory and Shaw stiffened at hearing the word "us". So Finch was going under cover too?

"And you'll just pretend to be the new accountant, try to get access to a computer, and see what you can find."

Shaw felt the snarl spread across her face as she continued to wipe furiously at her gun. Truthfully, it was probably clean a while ago, but Shaw's thoughts had distracted her from the monotonous task. Root had told her she could take care of herself, and Shaw knew it was true. But come on! Did Root really expect to be able to protect herself and Harold inside the belly of the beast if the shit hit the fan…and do so with no back up from herself or Reese?

Shaw took a deep breath, reminding herself that she really did trust Root and Root's judgment. Knowing what she knew now about her task for the day, going to DC by herself or sending John alone wouldn't be practical. Control was a formidable woman. And Root did still have Fusco at the very least. She also seemed confident that the machine would back her up if necessary.

For now, that confidence would have to be enough for both of them.

With a heavy sigh, Shaw snapped a clip into her gun and racked the slide before pocketing the weapon. On her way out of the armory, she grabbed several more clips and put them in various pockets. Root was still engrossed in discussion with Harold, but her gaze met Shaw's for a moment as she listened to Finch's words. Shaw's look thoroughly conveyed her displeasure at the situation, but it also said that she would not make an issue of it for the moment.

Root smirked, replying to something Finch had said before turning her gaze back to Sameen and mouthing two final words to her before the assassin followed John out of the subway to begin their mission.

"Trust me."

If you've made it this far, I thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the return of Shoot scenes in this chapter, and well, the chapter. Anyway, thanks again for reading; now I hope you'll be kind enough to review.