Shaw stared at the letter in her hands. It wasn't the first time she'd sat in this exact spot staring at the damn thing. She just couldn't bring herself to do anything with it. Upon receiving it, she'd just felt numb. Not that that was unusual for her, but this was what she'd been waiting for. Working for, for so long. And getting this letter should have at least inspired a feeling of victory.

But no. She'd just been numb. And in the two weeks since, that numbness had been replaced by a growing feeling of dread. She'd tried to play dumb with herself, but those attempts hadn't been convincing. She knew why she dreaded dealing with it. She knew why she hadn't already accepted, eager to run off to New York the moment she got the news.

Root.

If Shaw accepted this fellowship, she would be moving to New York. It had been her top pick of programs, and now she'd been accepted. But she hadn't answered the call yet, because to do so would prompt a conversation she didn't know how to have. She just didn't know how to tell Root. How would she react? Would she want to move with her? Did Shaw want her to? If Root didn't invite herself along, would Shaw ask her to come?

She didn't have an answer to any of these, and so she just put off the whole thing. She couldn't do it forever, though. She had to give them an answer, and soon.

Shaw hadn't intended to stay in Chicago forever. She hadn't even intended to stay here for this long. If she survived her internship, she'd assumed she would try to gain residency elsewhere, but the stuck-up chief of surgery that Shaw had thought hated her, stood up for her after she passed her medical boards. In a hospital where she felt so unwelcome, so looked down on for her seemingly cold personality, she hadn't wanted to stay. But getting into another hospital was never a guarantee, and when the chief asked for her to stay, urged her to ignore the opinions of others, she had a hard time saying no. She'd talked it over with Root, who agreed that moving programs wasn't worth it, when she risked an even worse situation at her next place. So she'd stayed.

Five years later, a new choice lay before her. And she didn't want to make it. Things were good now. She had a place at the same hospital she'd been at since graduating medical school, she didn't need to leave. Chicago didn't feel like home in and of itself, but she was used to it. She had a place to live. She had Root. A surprisingly stable, steady relationship of...whatever they were, that had somehow lasted this long. Shaw liked what they had. It worked. It felt good. She didn't want to leave it behind.

But she didn't feel prepared to ask Root to come with her. They weren't that kind of couple. They'd fallen into living together in the first place. They'd never talked about being exclusive, although Shaw was pretty sure Root didn't really see other people anymore. There was no romance between them, no sweet words or promises. They'd learned to exist together in a harmonic way that had become comfortable. In a lot of ways, her friendship with Root had surpassed what she had with John. They connected on a different level, in a way that had nothing to do with sex, and Shaw had come to value her in every way.

Asking Root to move to New York, though, that was on a whole different scale. It stank of commitment. Like she would be saying something she didn't really mean. Maybe Root wouldn't take it that way, but it still felt like something it wasn't. On the flip side, if they had no commitment to each other, what right did Shaw have to want Root to come? Root didn't belong to her. The whole point of not making promises to each other was to not tie each other down and make this into a whole, couple thing. Neither of them wanted to be tied down.

And yet, Shaw still wanted Root to come with her. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure of that much. She just couldn't ask her. The very same thing that made their relationship work so well might be the same thing that had Shaw moving to New York alone.

Annoyed and frustrated, she dropped the letter back into the drawer, slamming it shut. Going over it in her head every other day wasn't helping. And staring at the damn thing just pissed her off. She needed to bite the bullet and do something, or the decision would be made for her.

Shaw was scowling into the fridge when Root got home, her arms loaded down with bags. "Oh, thank fuck. This damn thing is bare as hell, and I am starving."

Root laughed. "Just go get the other bags out of the car before you devour it all, okay?"

"Sure, whatever."

Root smacked her on the ass on the way out, not even sparing her a glance. Shaw grinned. She found several more bags of groceries sitting in Root's backseat, which she loaded up all at once and carried in. Root was already halfway through putting everything away.

"Hey, I got you more of that seasonal drink you liked. It's on clearance; they must need to get rid of it now that we're in January."

"Oh. Thanks."

Root smiled at her. "You're welcome."

"Holy shit, Root!" Shaw started unpacking. "How many did you get?"

She laughed. "Um, all of them? You can freeze them so they last longer, and then you can enjoy it for longer. I figured since they were so steeply discounted..."

"Huh. Wouldn't have thought to freeze them," Shaw murmured, scanning the ingredients. "I guess that would work." She shook her head. "I do so appreciate living with a genius."

Root scoffed and started stacking things in the freezer. Shaw watched her, her tongue pressed to her teeth. Root did almost all of the shopping now, since she worked from home and Shaw practically lived at the hospital. It was just another part of the routine they had settled into. Shaw never asked her to, but Root didn't seem to mind. And it was one less thing for Shaw to worry about, which was nice, especially when the fridge was empty.

"Thanks. For...getting everything." She cleared her throat awkwardly when Root stopped what she was doing and gave her a funny look.

"You're thanking me for making sure we have food in the house?"

"I mean, yeah. Food is...important."

"Mhm. And have I ever let you starve?"

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You would never."

"No, but neither would you. You'd just live on takeout, if it weren't for me."

"True. I just, you know, like that I don't live on takeout, that's all." Shaw stared at the bread in her hands, but she wasn't really seeing it.

Root's hands entered her line of vision, taking the loaf from her. "Not that I need the thanks, but I appreciate it. You know I don't mind."

Shaw watched in silence as Root finished putting everything away, before folding up the reusable shopping bags and putting them by the door for when she needed them again. She'd forgotten about her quest for food in this newfound need to show Root that she genuinely appreciated her and wanted her around. Which made her feel stupid, so she just stood there, biting her tongue so she didn't say anything else.

Root came back to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her from behind. "Still hungry? I could make us some sandwiches." She nibbled on Shaw's neck.

"I don't need you to make my food, too."

"I know you don't need me to," Root responded teasingly. "But I'm hungry, too, and I could make you something at the same time."

Instead of answering, Shaw turned to face her, cupping her face and kissing her roughly. Root moaned and leaned into her, happy with the change of subject. Shaw bit and sucked at her lips until they were swollen and raw. Shaw swiped her tongue through her mouth one last time before finally forcing herself to let her go. There was a time when it was rare for them to display any sort of physical affection toward each other that wasn't associated with sex. It was only in the last couple of years that moments like this became more normal. Kissing just for the hell of it. Touches that weren't meant just for teasing. The occasional cuddle. Root had to work for those, but when she bribed Shaw by buying groceries and cooking her food and doing all the dishes, she couldn't not give in and let Root cuddle up to her while they watched a movie. They even shared the same bed most nights. Shaw felt it was easier than switching back and forth, because she was just too tired to move after working twelve-plus hours and then having sex for half the night – or afternoon. Root liked having access to Shaw at all times, often waking Shaw up with her head between her legs. Shaw gave in because she liked it, too, and Root worked hard to make it worth her while. She'd even upgraded to a bigger bed, once it became a regular thing.

She left Root there, eyes half-closed, swaying in place with a happy smile on her bruised lips. Shaw kept her satisfied grin to herself as she finally put together her lunch. She really was starving. She had no issue devouring two sandwiches on all her own, and following both some chips. Root ate at the counter, much more daintily than Shaw, and cleaned up after them.

"Hey, Root?" She poked her head out of her bedroom at Shaw's call. "You busy tonight?"

Root smirked, shifting more fully out of the room to lean against the door frame. "Depends. Do my hypothetical plans include you?"

Shaw sighed, rolling her eyes. "I just...need to get out. Something other than work, you know?"

"Don't you have a five AM shift?"

"Yeah, so? Fuck that, I'll sleep when I'm dead." Shaw snorted. "Need a break. I was thinking we could go clubbing or something."

"Or something, huh?"

"Do you know how long I have lived in this city, and I know nothing about the night scene? Like, clubs, bars, whatever. I know all of jack shit. All I do is work!"

"Then let's go out. I like exploring. Maybe we can hit a few different places, see what we like."

Shaw nodded firmly. "That. Let's do that."

Root grinned, eager for their plans. "I can be ready in an hour."

They didn't actually leave until two hours later, but Shaw already felt better. She just needed to get her mind off everything. Root looked downright edible in a low-cut dress that, despite the overall lack of material, somehow managed to cup her ass just right and pushed her breasts up. Shaw already knew she wasn't waiting until they got back to have her. In fact, she was looking forward to seeing how many different places she could find to slip her hands under that dress where no one would know what she was doing. Definitely would have her coming on the dance floor, surrounded by an oblivious crowd.

Waking up only two hours after they got home so that she could rush to get to work in the narrow window she had left herself should have been stressful, but Shaw had enjoyed last night too much to care. The night out had been a great idea, and despite her exhaustion, she didn't regret it. They'd had a lot of fun with Root's idea of club and bar hopping, dancing until they were out of breath, then doing shots, and then dancing some more. Shaw was pleased to say that not only did she get Root to come on the dance floor, twice, but she'd also had her in every bathroom in all four clubs they hit. She was walking on shaky legs by the time they got home, and hickeys were forming on half of her body. Didn't stop Shaw from riding her face until she had a roaring orgasm of her own, and then making Root come once more before they both collapsed.

Nope, no regrets at all. She walked into the hospital so satisfied that nothing bothered her. Not the bubbly blonde attending she hated getting stuck with in surgery, not the patient who was so nervous that she kept asking the same questions over and over before her operation, and not even the flirtatious nurse who kept hitting on her after she'd told him she wasn't interested. The day flew by until she finally got a moment to breathe, and chose to use her precious minutes to text Root.

Craving one of those steak sandwiches for lunch...

She rarely asked Root for anything, since Root loved it a little too much, but she didn't care. And it meant seeing Root today, which otherwise wouldn't happen. She wouldn't be getting home until late tonight.

Busy

Shaw stared at the single word on the screen, confused. Root had never once been too busy to come see her, not in the five years she'd worked here. And she never passed up the chance to see her, especially if it was invited. The short answer left Shaw feeling like Root hadn't woken up in the mood she had. But what did she have to be upset about?

You okay?

Fine

Okay, as if the one-word answers weren't clue enough, even Shaw knew that a woman telling you 'fine' really meant the opposite. She swore quietly.

"Who just pissed in your cereal?"

Shaw looked up at the chief of surgery, grinning at her like her frustration, which was apparently obvious, amused him. She appreciated that he'd warmed up to her over the years, the two of them forming a sort of alliance that had served her well in this job, but she did not want to share.

"Nothing. No one."

"Ah. So not the pretty roommate who isn't your girlfriend?"

"Obviously," she snapped, pushing off the wall and walking away from him.

"I might be thirty years older than you," he called out after her, "but I can still keep up."

"Then keep up!" she called back, hoping he wouldn't.

But he fell into stride right next to her. Even when she tried to speed up, he matched her pace. It only annoyed her, but she kept that to herself. He liked getting a rise out of her, just the way she did with him.

"You may as well tell me."

"Why would I do that?" Shaw responded, not looking over.

"Because you do not need to be taking that frustration into surgery. It isn't worth a malpractice suit."

"Fuck you, I'm not going to hurt anyone."

He wheeled in front of her, forcing her to a sudden stop. "Fucking hell, Jakobs!"

"That is Chief, to you," he said sternly. "Shaw, I cut you a lot of slack, but I am still your superior. Even if I am pretty sure you are leaving me in the next month. Until then, speak to me accordingly."

Shaw crossed her arms, scowling. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to play nice for once. Answer my question. I just asked how your day was going."

"Actually, I think you said something about piss," she grumbled.

He cracked a smile. "I might have. Intent of the question still stands." He cocked his head to one side. "Is it Root?"

"Why do you think it would be?"

His eyes crinkled knowingly. "Because she is the only person I have seen who knows how to push your buttons like they're labeled." Shaw's scowl deepened. "Relax, Shaw, I'm not asking you to get personal. But if you are upset with her, I would like to help you sort it out."

Shaw sighed theatrically. "Can we at least stop standing in the middle of the hallway?" It wasn't a busy part of the hospital, but there were still plenty of people to overhear them, people who had parted around the obstacle they'd created like waves around a rock.

He led her over to a quiet corner next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Look, I honestly don't know. Okay? I texted her, she was short with me, and I can't figure out what I did."

"Are you sure it's you?"

"I'm not sure of anything. She's...hard to read."

Jakobs gestured to her phone, so she showed him the texts. He whistled lowly. "Well, I can say what that looks like to me. As a man married twenty-eight years, Shaw, I would say she's definitely mad at you."

Shaw threw her hands up. "But why? She hasn't said anything!"

"Don't ask now. Even if she would tell you, talking through text isn't the way to go."

"So she's just gonna be mad for the rest of the day? Man, I won't even see her until tonight, and that's if she's even up when I get home."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Trust me, it's better to wait and do it face-to-face."

Shaw sighed, leaning against the wall. "I do not need this shit."

Jakobs was silent for a moment. And then he asked, "Does she know about New York?"

Shaw wouldn't look at him. "No."

"Because?"

"Because it's my job, not hers," she snapped. "I haven't even decided yet."

"No?" He sounded surprised. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"It is. I mean...it's just a big change."

"Because you don't know if she'll go with you?"

Shaw shot him a look. Did he think he was psychic? Cute ploy, but she wasn't interested in biting. "I told you, she's just my roommate. I can get a new roommate." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

He made a thoughtful face, nodding. "Then I guess you have nothing to worry about."

"No, I don't." Obviously, she did, seeing as she hadn't told them she was accepting the offer. And now Root was pissed about something she couldn't decipher, but she was too tired for this. For making this decision with Root, for talking about it. She had never understood why people felt the need to do that. It never solved the issue. "I need to get back to work."

"Don't take it with you into the OR!" he called after her.

She waved him off. He liked to remind her of his authority when she got cheeky, but he never did anything with it. As long as she didn't do anything terrible to any of her coworkers or patients, he let the attitude go.

It absolutely went into the OR with her. In fact, her frustration permeated the rest of her day. Polar opposite from how she'd started, now she was short with everyone, her short fuse lit and ready to blow. She missed out on her last surgery of the day because no one wanted to deal with her. She ended up going home early, fuming. She stomped into the house, slamming the door behind her.

"What is wrong with you?" Root asked calmly from the couch.

"Apparently, you," Shaw snapped back. She stomped into her room, slamming that door, too. It wasn't until she had stripped out of her scrubs and was grabbing a t-shirt from her drawers that she saw the letter behind her on the bed. She dropped the shirt and snatched the paper up. Sure enough, it was her acceptance for the New York fellowship. "Fuck," she muttered.

She stomped back out into the living room. "Why the fuck were you snooping?"

Root didn't flinch at the paper shoved in her face. "I wasn't. I thought I left my Air Vibe in your room."

"You didn't. It's by the motherfucking sink where I left it after I washed it. Remember?" Shaw did. Vividly. She'd rather enjoyed the way Root bent her over that counter, instead of finishing the cookies they'd been making. And Shaw had loved it just as much when she laid Root out on the same spot and eaten her out to two orgasms before using one of her favorite toys on her.

"Yeah, I found it."

Root's forced calm just riled Shaw up further. She stormed away, slamming her bedroom door again. She tossed the letter, pulling her abandoned shirt on. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was surprised to hear the door open behind her, but not the calm way in which Root asked, "Are we going to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about?"

Root scoffed, some of her own anger beginning to show. Good. "Oh, which part? That you're moving to New York, or that you didn't tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you everything!" And before Root could get mad, Shaw added, "I haven't made a decision yet!"

Root slumped against the door. "You haven't?" Shaw shook her head. "But I thought you wanted New York."

She sighed. "Everyone keeps saying that," she muttered.

"So what has changed?"

"Nothing." Everything. "I just don't want to rush into a decision."

Root ventured into the room. "And you didn't think you could talk to me about it?"

"What's to talk about?" she repeated.

Root decided it was safe enough to make herself at home on Shaw's bed. Shaw couldn't help her second glance at Root's long legs, stretching out as she lay on her side. She pretended she didn't, though. They always drew her gaze, even on the days when Root actually bothered to clothe herself, but Shaw was still pissed and intended to stay pissed.

"We could start with why you haven't answered them."

No, Shaw did not want to discuss it. But she also knew Root wouldn't let it go. And as Jakobs had so wisely recommended, she did need to talk about it. If for no other reason than she couldn't keep taking shit like this into work. She crawled over Root onto the bed, tired from her long day and the lack of sleep. She nearly fell on top of Root doing it, which normally she wouldn't mind, but considering the tense atmosphere, instead forced herself to finish putting her back to the wall. Without meaning to, she ended up mimicking Root's position, who had flipped to face her.

"It's a big change." Root just waited. "I mean, moving halfway across the country. Have to give up the house. Find a new place, which will be even harder to afford than here." Shaw ran her finger over a stain on her comforter. "Remember when you said I should just continue my residency here because I might move hospitals and end up hating it?" Root nodded. "How much worse would that be if I moved to New York and hated it? Or they hated me and fired me?"

Root didn't answer right away, which Shaw appreciated. Quick answers to important questions never felt sincere. "That's possible," she admitted. "But on the other hand, do you want to be stuck in one place for forever because it's the obvious path?"

"No, of course not." Shaw sighed, falling onto her back.

"Is it really the job you're worried about?" Root asked quietly.

Shaw forced herself to meet Root's eyes, but no words fell from her mouth. Would you come with me?

It was Root who finally spoke. "Sameen, I just want you to be happy with your choice. And I don't think I speak for myself when I say that if you don't take this, you will regret it. You can't let it pass you by. Not for anything."

Shaw couldn't look away from her, couldn't ignore the intensity in her voice. Root was right, she knew she was. But she didn't like where this conversation was leading.

"And you?"

"What about me?" Root parroted, her eyes brightening.

"Can you afford this house by yourself?"

She looked away, her small smile dropping. Eventually she whispered, "I can take care of me, don't you worry."

Shaw didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything. She just reached for Root, drawing her in close. They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other.