While dinner was simmering on the stove, Root took a quick shower and was just ready when the doorbell rang. Checking her hair in the mirror and adjusting her shirt, which was falling down one side of her shoulder, Root closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"I heard you!" she whispered unnerved at the Machine, and then opened the door.
"Come on in," Root smiled brightly, pleasantly surprised that Shaw had taken the time to change into something nice, black pants and a lovely lilac blouse. Root tried to remember when she had seen the ex-agent in anything but black if it hadn't been for a job.
"Thanks," Shaw pursed her lips and threw a bottle of wine for Root to catch. The hacker noticed there was something different about Shaw, and it wasn't the fact that she wore her hair loose, her posture was relaxed.
Root led them into the kitchen and set the wine on the counter, Shaw's eyes had scanned the whole apartment, probably a habit she couldn't shake. "Smells good, what is it?" Shaw let her gaze linger on her hostess.
"Stew, old recipe from my grandma. The corkscrew is in that cupboard." Root pointed to her right and set two glasses on the counter.
Shaw filled both glasses and picked up at the lightly off vibe the hacker was giving her. Handing her a glass, Shaw noticed how Root didn't hold eye contact and wondered what was up with that. She usually never let a chance pass to either stare, wink or leer.
"So, what's the Machine's take on this?" Shaw took a wild guess what it was about and gestured between them.
"She warned me." That was only the half truth, the Machine had pretty much told her not to pursue Shaw any further. Of course she didn't give any explanation, but the Machine had been pretty clear.
"About me?" Shaw narrowed her eyes slightly, a hint of a smile in the corner of her lips. When she left the gym shortly after Root, she had gone home to get cleaned up. She hadn't planned on anything fancy and the hair had been a spur of the moment thing. Shaw wasn't even aware how much effort she had put into not looking like she was on a job.
Root didn't reply, stirring the content of the pot with a wooden spoon instead. The smell always brought back memories of the few happy summers she got to spend with her grandparents as a kid.
"Need help with anything?" Shaw leaned on the kitchen island casually, sipping on her wine but never letting Root out of her sight. She felt encouraged to test how far Root's trust in the Machine went. And who was the Machine warning from? Was Shaw a danger for Root or was it the other way around?
"Not really," Root noticed how Shaw was biting her lower lip, a gesture that send a wave of heat through her body. "Appetizer?" she took a plate with canapés from the fridge and Shaw raised an eyebrow.
"I should have invited myself sooner," Shaw licked her lips and stepped closer to pick one up.
"Yeah, you really should have." Root silently cursed her boss.
"The drugging kind of put a damper on that."
"You're still holding that against me? I thought you understood." Root didn't touch the food, she rather watched Shaw.
"I don't hold grudges, but I don't forget either." Shaw pointed her finger. "So, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," Root shrugged.
"Right," Shaw took another step closer, holding her gaze and then dropping it to Root's lips and back up again.
"What about your Not gonna happen speech from the other day? You look like I'm for dinner." Root flustered under the intense stare and tried to play it cool, taking a sip of wine.
"I don't know," Shaw put her glass down and stepped into Root's personal space, taking the wine glass from her and setting it aside. "I guess I'm in a good mood."
"You just like to rattle my chain." Root put both hands on Shaw's shoulders and then pushed her away smoothly.
"Maybe," Shaw was having entirely too much fun for her own good, her demur dulled by more basic instincts. Maybe I'm just horny, Shaw mused, taking another sip of wine. She really like that colorful shirt the hacker was wearing and how it revealed a little skin around the shoulders. Shaw licked her lips absently.
"You didn't think I was that easy?" Root started setting the table. "You bat your long lashes and I swoon?" she called over her shoulder.
Shaw bit her tongue and grinned, teeth showing. "I guess not."
"Will you tell me what's going on or do I have to take out the knife first?" Shaw inquired when they cleaned up the table.
Dinner had been delicious, Shaw was surprised at how good of a cook the hacker was. But even she could feel that something was off. If not, they'd probably be in the other room by now, having another kind of dessert.
"The Machine told me to keep my hands to myself tonight." Root wondered if Shaw indeed was carrying a knife and if so, where.
"Is the Machine usually giving you advice on your sex life?" Shaw chuckled amused.
"Not necessarily." Root stepped away from the counter and Shaw used the opportunity to move into her space again, stopping the taller woman by placing a firm hand on her side and keep her from stalling.
"Did the Machine say anything about my hands?" At that, Root let out a belly laugh, one that made her whole body vibrate. Shaw could feel it and brought up her left hand when the taller woman didn't move away. She brushed a thick strand of auburn hair behind Root's ear and traced her thumb along the Stapedectomy scar and further down the neck until her hand came to rest on her shoulder.