"What the fuck was that supposed to be?" Shaw dropped the last assailant and shouted at Root, who was holding her bruised hand.
Shaw grabbed Root by the arm and dragged her out the back entrance when yet again police sirens were closing in. "How the hell did you manage to stay alive so far? You're helpless without a weapon."
Their little stop for breakfast was interrupted when two knuckleheads started a fight and chaos broke out.
Root didn't reply right away, her head was spinning and her wrist and fingers were killing her.
"This dump was your idea. I would have never stepped foot in here."
"This is the only place still open at this hour which serves a decent breakfast."
"Right," Root mumbled.
"You'll be lucky if this isn't broken," Shaw examined her wrist and hand. "You never ever hit someone in the face with your fist. While it looks good on TV, you don't want to break your hand!"
"Well, thanks for the intel," Root slapped Shaw's hand away from her jaw with her good hand. "Next time I'll just let them hit you over the head with a bottle." She'd also caught a swing at her jaw, a bruise was already forming.
Shaw grabbed her hand and stared her down, event though she was inches shorter. "You need ice for that."
Root sported big sunglasses when she entered the office building a few hours later. She had covered up the bruise on her chin with make up, but there was only so little make-up could do to hide the circles under her eyes.
Shaw didn't look much better, sans the bruises. She was nursing a coffee and pretended to read a file when Brian called her up to remind her of a staff meeting.
It was boring as hell; praises here, numbers there, new assignments and other irrelevant stuff and Shaw could barely stay focused. There were close to fifty people in the conference room, only the senior staff members were seated, everyone else was standing.
"You look like shit," Shaw grinned at Root when she snuck up behind her.
"Why thanks, you don't look like sunshine either," Root whispered back, earning a few snotty looks from other staff members who pretended to be listening, which she deliberately ignored.
Half an hour later, the meeting was over and people left for their offices or the break room.
Shaw had a new assignment and so did Root, neither of them happy with them. It would require some actual work and nobody knew when the next number would be coming in.
"Meet me at 8 at the gym." Root read the text message she got received later that day. She could barely type with her injured hand, let alone hold a barbell. But knowing Shaw, she'd probably take that into consideration.
Right on time, Root entered the sports place that night and was greeted by the stench of sweat and iron. The place was packed, every station was taken and groups of athletes were everywhere. She had seen Shaw's car but couldn't spot her. Rudy, the owner, pointed at the back room when he noticed her.
The door was closed and Root was a little suspicious. Stepping inside, Shaw was emptying a huge bag on the floor, books, umbrella, scarf, pencils and other objects of daily use tumbling to the floor.
"Did you clean out your trunk?" Root dropped her gym bag.
"If we go out on missions again, I need to know that you can take care of yourself. Especially now that we can't carry everywhere."
"I can do just fine," Root felt a bit offended.
"The Machine can't always be there and a gun and a Taser only get your so far." Shaw didn't care if she stepped on any toes, she'd rather slap some sense into Root now than see her get killed.
Hesitating for a second, it hit Shaw how much truth was in that thought. She really didn't want to see Root get hurt. And she was going to do something about it.
"And what about all that?" Root pointed to the floor.
"Those are weapons. Know them, use them." Shaw avoided eye contact until she had her thoughts back in order. Shaw very rarely cared for other people and every time she added someone to the list was kind of special.
Gen telling her to listen, even when the volume was turned way down, came to her mind.
"Should I go get changed?" Root eyed Shaw's street clothes.
"No, we use what we have, that includes regular clothes." Shaw looked the hacker up and down, noticing how the black stretch jeans made her legs look even longer and she was always fond of that sleek leather jacket.
The door opened and Rudy entered, dressed in a old and beat up body suit. Root had noticed his marine tattoo before, the same Shaw sported, and knew those guys would stick together through thick and thin, so it was no wonder Shaw could pull this little training session off so quickly.
"I asked Rudy to help us out a bit." Shaw picked up a book. "Someone tries to come at you, use this as a shield. Book, tablet, anything." The two soldiers went at it right away. Rudy tried to attack Shaw with a plastic knife and Shaw blocked with the book and then jammed it into the protective cushion around his neck. Without it, his throat would be crushed and he wouldn't be able to fight back.
The demonstration lasted for almost two hours, Shaw deliberately picked exercises Root could perform with only one hand and made sure they repeated everything as long as it took for Root to really pick it up. Even if it meant a dozen repetitions.
Shaw was a great teacher and Rudy was a great sport. They were both very patient and for a change Root was focused on the task at hand instead of pushing Shaw's buttons. Because she didn't have to.
Shaw's hands were all over her, holding her hips when she showed her how to put more force into a kick or on her shoulders and back when she punched.
Getting shown how to ward of someone pinning you to the floor was Root's favorite. It had been pretty nifty watching Shaw demonstrating the actions with Rudy, see how such a small person could seemingly easily fight off such a big guy. But having Shaw sit on her, Root couldn't help but grin.
It was really hard concentrating, her mind tried wandering off somewhere else entirely, showing her pictures of the woman sitting in top of her with a lot less clothes and not necessarily less sweaty.