Okay, time for a little Shoot. I can see why people like writing about them. Their dynamic is really fun and unusual. ;)

With her arm bandaged and stinging just the way she liked it, she next turned her attentions to Reese.

"How's he doing doc?"

The young blonde woman looked up from her own bullet extraction procedure and made a face. "Hard to say. He's lost a lot of blood and his pulse is weak and erratic." Her features softened slightly. "But as far as I can tell there's no unaccounted for internal bleeding. All his vital organs seem intact."

"They should be. I was careful not to hit them."

"I don't understand," the woman said, looking perplexed. "Why would you-"

"Not important doc." Shaw's gaze fell to an unconscious agent on another examination table. His eyes had been jammed far into the sockets by 'someone's' thumbs. She should have felt horrified but she didn't. Still, commenting seemed like the thing to do. "Shit, Root really did a number on that guy."

The doc narrowed her eyes at Shaw and pursed her lips. "I thought so. You're the ones responsible for all this carnage, aren't you?"

Shaw gave her a stony look. "Yeah, we are, but you're still going to take good care of him." She placed a hand on the newly acquired gun in her holster. "Aren't you?"

They stared at one another for a long moment. It was then that Shaw became aware of just how uncomfortable the sticky blood still coating her face had become, and it was with a great effort that she didn't start scratching at it mid staring contest.

Finally the woman spoke. "No need for threats, agent. I took an oath to help those in need. It's not my place to discriminate who I tend to."

So saying, she commenced cleaning and bandaging Reese's various wounds, starting with the worst one in his thigh. After Shaw washed off the grime from her face, feeling markedly better afterwards, she did a quick survey through the two glass entrances on either side of the med centre. All seemed quiet. Even so, Fusco continued to keep a vigilant watch, one gun at the ready, the other that she had tossed him, tucked into his belt. Only one of their team preferred to go double barrelled into a fight.

With that thought in mind, Shaw looked towards the still bound and gagged Root. Root's entire body and face was covered in blood and gore, hair matted down and disgusting. Her partner had certainly seen better days and the idea that she herself was the cause of Root's (current) insanity didn't exactly make her feel all warm and fuzzy. Not that anything ever really did, except for maybe shooting people who deserved it. Oh and Bear catching a big fat rat and being all proud of himself.

She approached Root, dragging a swivel chair with more medical supplies on it as she did so. Putting the supplies aside, she sat down and got to work tending to the angry looking wound in Root's shoulder. Since Root was tied up at the moment, Shaw ripped Root's t-shirt collar a bit in order to gain better access. The scar from a previous injury was still fresh and painful looking.

"You keep getting shot there, Root, and you're going to be seriously messed up soon." She heard herself a second later and frowned. "I mean, more so than usual."

The doctor called her attention away from Root's deplorable mental and physical condition to enquire what Reese's blood type was. Shaw told her it was AB negative and then watched as the woman located the correct blood sac and hooked it up to the IV. Satisfied that Reese was being properly cared for, she directed her efforts back on her own patient.

As she retrieved the bullet, Root stirred a few times but didn't wake up. There were some other minor scratches and wounds that she sanitized with some fancy and likely expensive rubbing alcohol. Then once she was all patched up, Shaw filled a medium sized basin with lukewarm water and got to scrubbing off the gore from her friends exposed and unbound skin. Namely her hands, neck and face. It was impossible to get it all out from under her chipped fingernails, so it wasn't long before she gave up and focused on the other two areas.

While she cleaned up Root's face, (exposing various nasty looking bruises as she did so) Root stirred feebly again. This time her eyelids fluttered open. Before their eyes made contact, Shaw felt strangely apprehensive, and not because she was afraid the psycho would try to attack her. Beneath the apprehension there was another sensation, something bizarre, that of guilt. It was an unpleasant, mostly alien feeling and she wished it would just go away. Why did she suddenly find herself with a conscience? Why did Root, a notoriously psychopathic individual, bring out Shaw's more human, compassionate side? (Root was no Cole, that was for sure). It didn't make any sense, and served to annoy her even more, so that by the time Root's eyes focused and found hers, she was in a bad mood again, like when Lionel wouldn't shut the hell up.

Just like with the doctor before, they simply stared at one another for a long moment. Within the first second it was obvious to Shaw that the monster was gone for the time being. The confusion and then immediate comprehension sent Root to squirming against her restraints, high pitched voice muffled from the gross gag.

Shaw licked her now dry lips, hesitating to remove it. Once she did she'd have to listen to Root's whiny ass going on about how she couldn't believe her eyes and how much she had missed her...and all that sentimental crap that chick flicks were so fond of and that Shaw avoided like heat seeking missiles.

Root scowled at her and made a very loud humph noise, and Shaw, tense muscles relaxing, just leaned back in her chair and smirked, savouring the moment for as long as she could. It wasn't often that Root was completely and utterly under her control, right where she wanted her, slave to her every whim...what the hell is wrong with me? That's the sort of shit Root says.

When Root started to squirm again, Shaw finally pulled out the gag and tossed it in the garbage. The psycho smacked her lips together a few times and then made another face.

"I've got the most disgusting taste in my mouth. Be a doll and get me a glass of water?"

Looks like I'm the slave again.

Shaw begrudgingly did as she was bade and held it out to her.

Bemusedly, "Unless you're going to untie me, sweetie, I don't know what you expect me to do with that."

Ugh, thought Shaw, trying not to roll her eyes but failing, not the frickin' terms of endearment already.

Shaw moved in closer and tilted the glass to Root's weather beaten looking lips. Root took a large gulp, sloshed it around a bit and then swallowed, still with the same disgusted look across her face.

"What I really need is a mint or something." She smiled pleasantly at Shaw. "You wouldn't happen to have one on you, would you...honey?"

Shaw just glared at her, grip nearly cracking the glass in her hand.

"Not very talkative I see. That's all right. We don't need to talk if you don't want to." She winked. "I can think of much more agreeable things to do with you."

"Don't," she warned, closing her eyes, not in the least ready for innuendo's.

"Don't what, Sameen?" said Root innocently.

"You know what," she barked, giving her a no nonsense look. "I don't want to hear any of that bullshit."

Root was positively beaming at her and Shaw struggled not to smile back a little. "I'm thrilled to find you just as charming as you ever were. I knew Samaritan was no match for my little Sammy."

Shaw got the distinct impression that if Root weren't tied up she would have squeezed her cheek like one of those idiotic relatives who have no common sense.

"Not to be insensitive or anything," she said, "but didn't you go crazy because you thought I was dead?"

Rather than be abashed by this comment, Root looked at her teasingly. "Oh, you've always made me crazy, Sameen."

Walked right into that one.

"I just meant," grunted Shaw, really irritated that her insensitive comment had backfired, "you don't seem particularly surprised to see me alive. And you aren't exactly acting crazy anymore. What gives?"

"Well, I have Her again," she said simply. Root grinned. "Now then...as much as I love the thought of you tying me up," - Shaw stiffened - "do you think you could take these...computer cables off?" She caught Shaw's eye. "You did a very thorough job."

"How do I know you won't go all postal on me again if I do? " Or even worse, try to hug me? "You were harder to control than usual."

"Yes, I can see that," she replied, glancing down at the jagged edge of her torn shirt, where her partially exposed stomach was. Too slowly Shaw looked away from the bare skin, and Root's grin widened. Shaw concentrated on not throttling her. "I'll be fine as long as She stays with me. And since She's regained equilibrium with Samaritan, I don't think that'll be an issue for awhile."

"Define 'awhile', Root," Shaw said, unconvinced, arms crossed.

"Long enough to get out of here." Shaw still didn't move to release her and Root pouted. "Fine then, I'll just get Lionel to untie me."

"Good luck with that," she replied, smirking again. "He was way more freaked out by you than I was. Wouldn't come within ten feet of you if he could help it."

"You did take very good care of me, didn't you?" Shaw glowered. "Thanks, sweetie."

For once she seemed sincere and Shaw was taken aback. "Don't mention it," she grumbled.

Root just continued to stare at her in that same genuine way and Shaw became increasingly antsy. She wasn't big on talking about feelings and dealing with all that emotional shit. So she distracted herself from Root's unflinching gaze by untying her - realizing later that that was precisely what Root had expected would happen.

Before she took off the wrist restraints she caught Root's eye and sternly said, "Don't even think about trying to hug me. I will end you."

Root smiled slyly and Shaw became suspicious of what was coming. "So you've said before." She half whispered near her ear, "I'm still eagerly awaiting that fateful day."

Walked right into that one too.