All Hands On Deck

“Where’s Cocoa Puffs?” asked Fusco when he saw Shaw loading up her bag in the resort van to take them to the airport.

“How would I know?” Shaw snapped angrily to her former fake husband, slamming the back doors shut of the van.

“She’s missing a private jet back to New York?” Fusco scrunched up his face then raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sure Ms. Groves had urgent Machine business to attend to since the threat here was resolved,” Finch walked over to the van and got into the front passenger’s seat.

“She better had,” Shaw whispered under her breath where no one could hear.

Shaw sat stone-faced and silent during the entire long flight back to New York. She didn’t once threaten anyone. She just ate a steak, drank a lot of scotch, and petted Bear. Eventually, she did fall asleep with one hand tightly holding onto her canine best friend.

Reese and Fusco watched Shaw during the long flight, neither one interested in the free entertainment options on their seat monitors. There were dark circles under her eyes that couldn’t go unnoticed or the even larger frown on her lips. And Shaw’s shoulders seemed a bit hunched over, kind of deflated a bit.

“See, this is what I was talking about yesterday, the hell it’s going to be if those two loons break up. You have no idea what women get like after a break-up,” Fusco whispered to Reese, who remained in brooding face mode. “This is going to suck for us.”

“Lionel, calm down. You’re talking about Root and Shaw. They hardly seem like the kind that are going to binge chocolate and keep us up all night about talking about feelings,” Reese said in his deep deadpan voice to his teammate quietly.

“That’s my point exactly. They might burn the city down or kill each other this time. And we might get caught in their crossfire.” Fusco took another sip of his club soda as this revelation sank in with this blank-faced teammate.

Reese paused; he looked over to watch Shaw sleeping. She looked sad. And mad. She was most likely smad. And his guess it was all aimed at one perky psycho hacker.

When the plane landed after the long flight, the team scattered pretty quickly. Everyone was ready to get away from one grumpier than usual petite primary asset. Even though Shaw hadn’t threatened anyone, she had growled and huffed her way through the journey back to their cold home. Not even snacks seemed to dial down her hostile grumpiness to anyone in the general area. John and Zoe grabbed a taxi together. Finch, Bear, and Fusco shared a taxi back into the city. They offered a ride to Shaw, but she declined, and they all sighed a breath of relief.

Shaw didn’t know how to describe the unfamiliar feeling in her stomach that landing back in New York without Root caused. It felt like indigestion, or she thought if she was lucky diarrhea. At least that would be something physical she could point to her medical brain. She didn’t want to admit that Root leaving without a word was the cause for her extreme irritation and possible weird indigestion. So Root wasn’t around. She didn’t know how to describe her stomach’s unfamiliar reaction after having landed back in New York without Root. Shaw cringed when she realized she almost said she was rootless. Maybe her gut was telling her how much it missed its favorite sandwich after nearly two weeks. Even though Root had run off, Shaw knew at some point she was going to see Root. She wasn’t quite sure how her stomach or the rest of her body was going to react. She was glad she didn’t have to look at Root in the face right now. She didn’t think she could face the hacker at the moment.

She realized she had been kissing Root for nearly two weeks, whether under a jellyfish spell or under her own libido, and she didn’t know how she was going to stop doing that once they were back in New York. Kissing Root was an activity that she had grown to like. An action she was craving again right now. She then realized if Root were to appear before her right now magically, she probably would have reached out to kiss her. And probably Root would say something horrible like they need more vulva volcano eruptions. She shook her head, how had she ever had sex with such an idiot, she shook her head again the best sex of her life.

Shaw scolded herself; she realized she needed to get back in her city routines and as quickly as possible. Routines that didn’t involve kissing annoying, unbelievably hot/adorable hackers or showering with them or brushing teeth with them or any of the silly-ass things they did while under the influence of tropical humidity.

*****

Once Root got back to her apartment, she unpacked most of her stuff quickly. She put Shaw’s vision board from the art therapy session on top of a bare side table in the hallway by the front door. She made a tea and had settled down to do some work on her laptop to take her mind off Shaw. Her apartment seemed darker and quieter than usual, which was strange because it wasn’t like Shaw had ever hung around there. And it wasn’t like this was a permanent residence for her. She was already missing her favorite primary asset, even though it had only been a few hours since she saw her. It was a deep ache or an itch she couldn’t find to scratch.

Root sat staring at her laptop, unable to concentrate at all. Getting away from the city had been a huge gift; the whole team had needed a vacation. Maybe not a forced vacation that involved multiple therapy sessions and ended up being a life-threatening situation mission; however, the beach time and sunshine had definitely been needed and appreciated. And the Shaw time. That was something out of her wildest dreams.

Root couldn’t sleep well that first night back, not without Shaw. In the short amount of time on the trip, she had grown accustomed to sleeping next to Shaw. She knew leaving without saying a word was a lame way to go, but she didn’t think she could have made a long flight back sitting next to Shaw without touching her, knowing their time together was over. It possibly would have been more torturous than being injected with stimulants and sedatives at the same time.

*****

Shaw woke up startled in bed; she had a chill on her back. Her arm grazed the bed in an empty cold space. She leaned out and reached for Root with her other arm groggily. Root was gone. She blearily opened her eyes and looked around the room. There was no sign of the hacker. Shaw sat up in bed; the logical part of her brain knew Root wasn’t in her apartment. She hated to admit that even though she and Root had only slept together for a week and a half, she had gotten used to waking up with Root beside her. How is that possible, she wondered? Root was like the worst Trojan horse virus hacking into her brain and vagina.

*****

A week passed, and Shaw still hadn’t seen Root. Not in the subway, not on any joint missions, nothing. This was making her angrier and angrier. She started to wonder if the silly ass hacker had gotten herself hurt, maybe the dumbass never made it out of Hawaii in the first place. Finch was vague about that missile, about what happened and who was responsible in Hawaii. Finch, at times, could be a very unreliable leader and narrator.

Shaw took to breaking as many computers as possible by ‘accident’ on a daily basis. After every number that she saved, she stomped on her phones, so forcibly, they practically turned to dust. Finch had scolded her several times for destroying a few laptops and workstations in the subway. No matter how many computers she destroyed, she couldn’t seem to get Her attention. She was damned if she was going to ask the robot girlfriend where Root was or how she was doing.

*****

The Machine sent Root on several solo jobs around the city and few out of state over the next few weeks. While the hacker was grateful for the work and distraction, she was curious why the Machine seemed to be purposefully, keeping her away from the subway and certain team members. She longed for a team mission. She missed everybody, maybe even Finch.

After a particularly grueling mission saving a relevant number that turned out to be more trouble than expected, Root wandered into the subway; she was disappointed to find it empty. She stopped in front of the monitors and asked, “How is Shaw?” She could no longer not ask this question from her all-seeing friend.

Root got an immediate response with words popping up on the monitors in bold type. And all caps, the Machine was yelling. “I’M NOT YOUR CHILD IN A DIVORCE CUSTODY HEARING. ASK YOURSELF.”

The hacker stared, stunned, back at the screen. Sassy. A smirk crept over Root’s face. This meant that Shaw had asked about her. Or she was pretty darn sure. She decided to push the sassy artificial intelligence.

“Has Shaw asked about me?”

Before she could get an answer, Finch slowly walked into the subway. He had a slight smile on his face that quickly faded when he looked at the monitors.

“Ms. Groves…Root…” Finch cautiously said as he stared at Root, “…please…” he paused for more time to add, “…let me get to the Oregon Trail. I’ve had dysentery 112 times already.”

Root couldn’t help an evil smile that spread across her face. She had hacked Finch’s computer to play her favorite childhood game every time he rebooted his system. And she coded it never to let Finch win, to never let him make it to the Oregon Trail. She had a long list of pranks and punishments for the man who accidentally shot her favorite primary asset in the leg.

*****

The team had been following a new number for a few days; they were convinced his life was going to be in danger when he attended a company paintball event. Reese and Fusco had gone undercover to work at the same company to attend the event, and Shaw had an alias pretending to work for the opposing company during the match up.

Fusco started getting into the game, which was a game of capture the flag. The course was laid in a huge park tucked away in one of the boroughs. Each team had a prized flag on opposite ends of the course, the first team to capture the other teams flag won. Reese and Shaw looked they were bored out of their minds as they stalked through the shrubs and landscape and avoided getting hit with paint. Although no one could get a shot on them, they took out several people from the opposing team; they still protected their team’s flag while doing their mission.

The number was a programmer who stumbled upon a glitch in a software accounting system that no one wanted a fix. And someone was willing to kill him to make sure he never said anything.

Shaw stayed focus on everyone on her team. Suddenly, she heard people talking off in the distance.

“That person is crazy! They’re shooting at anything! Hell-bent on getting the flag,” yelled one guy out of breath and severely out of shape, his face was all red. He looked like he was about a brief jog or long-winded rant from a heart attack.

“That asshole doesn’t seem to be on a team, they are trying to steal both flags,” another guy yelled, a slim guy who had on too much padding, clearly trying to avoid bruising from the impact of the paint pellets.

Shaw watched the whiny baby men from behind a tree; she then quietly scurried off further away.

“Reese, have you seen a crazy person killing people on both teams?” asked Shaw over the communication link in their earpieces.

“Shaw, when you say kill, you mean spray with paint?” Reese deadpanned back to his female team member.

“Sure, asshole. Looks like there’s some loony hell-bent on getting to the flag. It could be a diversion to kill and not spray paint our number,” Shaw grumbled back to Reese.

Right after Shaw spoke, she saw a figure running fast through the field, shooting everything in its path. She charged after the person as fast as she could. Shaw’s speed was no match for the masked individual; as soon as she was close enough, she lunged and tackled the person to the ground. They struggled with the masked individual throwing a few punches, which Shaw dodged and got hit a few times. Shaw was impressed; this person knew had to throw some decent punches. Finally, Shaw got the upper body strength and roughly held down the person’s hands over their head as she tore off their mask.

“Root?” Shaw’s eyes were wide, and her mouth was hanging open as she stared down at the hacker.

“Hey, sweetie. Did you miss me?” Root asked up shyly to Shaw.

The question didn’t have its usual swagger, but still had some charm to it.
Root had no idea that Shaw would tackle her. She so wanted to reach out and pull Shaw down on top of her and smother her with kisses. She had major butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Her eyes were roaming all over Shaw; she sorely missed feasting her sights on her primary asset.

Shaw quickly jumped up and off Root. Sweat was dripping down her back, and her heart was beating faster than usual. And her stomach felt like it was doing flip-flops. She shook her head; it couldn’t be the close proximity of Root, just the initial shock of seeing her after a few weeks. Twelve days to be exact. Shaw thought. No, it was that lousy protein bar she had scarfed down before this silly ass event started.

Root knew she was going to see Shaw at some point today after the Machine informed her that the whole team was helping on this number. She did not expect to be tackled by Shaw and have her straddling her hips while she threw punches at her. Although thinking back to their earlier interactions, it’s not that strange. Just looking up at Shaw, she felt mouth go dry. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was not prepared at all for any Shaw contact. All she wanted to do was pull Shaw down on top of her and hold her tight.

“Root, what the hell are you doing here?” Shaw stared hard at Root.

“Same thing as y’all. Making sure our number stays alive and preferably no color stains on his clothes,” Root said. Her face grew serious. “Actually, why don’t we just shoot him right now to get him out of the game and to safety?”

“Then we won’t know who’s after him,” Shaw barked to Root.

They both stood up full now and circled each other.

Then Root turned to leave. Shaw reached out and grabbed Root’s arm, holding her firmly and keeping her in place.

“We’ll find out another way. I’m going to go find him,” said Root.

“No, you’re not,” Shaw growled.

“And what are you going to do to stop me, Shaw?” Root hissed.

They both stared off at each other, unresolved anger pouring off both women for different reasons. Shaw jerked her hand away from Root. Then very quickly, she raised her gun and shot Root.

Pink paint splattered across Root’s camouflaged chest.

“Looks like you’re out of the game. See ya.” Shaw squinted her eyes and threw Root a smug grin.

Before Shaw could turn around, blue paint splattered across her chest. Root stood with a smug grin towards Shaw.

“Looks like you’re out too,” Root drawled as she kept her gun raised at Shaw.

Suddenly, Shaw raised her gun back up and started rapidly firing at Root. Then Root was doing the same to Shaw. Paint was flying everywhere, and almost their entire bodies were covered in colors. They were both going to have a lot of bruises tomorrow and not from sexy times.

Root was mad because Shaw had a stupid three-night rule. And she was really sad because she missed Shaw so damn much. She missed her so much her body ached, especially in her heart.

Shaw was mad because Root just left Hawaii without celebrating taking a missile down. A forkin missile. That needed celebrating. That achievement Shaw thought needed naked celebrating, and Root deprived them both of that occasion.

Fusco and Reese ran over to see their two female teammates repeatedly firing on each other. They both squinted their eyes because paint was flying everywhere from so much discharge from the two toy weapons.

“You two look like walking rainbows,” Fusco yelled at his two female teammates as they glared back at him.

*****

Three men stood around in the subway. They all looked glum. Fusco looked both ways making sure the coast was clear before he spoke.

“Finch, working with these two is a nightmare,” Fusco spoke quickly in case Root or Shaw were to appear out of nowhere, which the two women were known to do.

“Agree, Finch. They are going to get someone killed, probably each other, but it could get dangerous for everybody.” Reese was less afraid of Root and Shaw, the whole thing just stressed him and made work more complicated “We almost lost the number today.”

“I’m rooting for them to get back together,” Fusco said, half-joking. “Get it…rooting? How come we don’t use that more often?”

Finch sighed. He had hoped there would never be workplace drama. It was one of the reasons he always hoped to work alone. Unfortunately, he had grown to think of everyone on his team as a friend, and now that they were in a predicament, he was forced to help solve it. He did not know or understand how he became a mother hen of this group. The mom/dad of the group, Finch, inwardly cringed.

“Perhaps, we could ‘Parent Trap’ them?” asked Fusco earnestly with a hopeful smile to Reese and Finch.

Awkward silence.

“I’ve been doing a little research on bickering and possibly estranged couples. We could try that approach, Mr. Fusco. We barely have anything to lose at this point,” Finch said rather glumly. He moved over to a workstation and sat down in front of one of the many monitors and keyboards.

“The new one or the old one?” asked Fusco to Finch, who was busy typing away on his keyboard.

“Preferably, the Haley Mills adaptation and I feel the best we can do is let them come to their own conclusions, but with just some slight nudging,” Finch reached up and readjusted his glasses.

“I don’t think nudging is going to work with these two…’ Fusco pursed his lips. “We need to start shoving.”

*****

Finch, Reese, and Fusco were all little wary of the next group mission because it did involve both Root and Shaw. The number was a guy; all the bad guys wanted dead, so it was something that could go pear-shaped quickly. Everyone needed to have sharp focus to make sure nothing terrible happened, and they had no idea if the guy was the perpetrator or the victim.

Root got the part of playing the number’s date. They were going to a restaurant, where Fusco was undercover as a waiter, and Shaw was posing as a sous chef. Reese was watching the perimeter and keeping ears on everybody with Finch.

Shaw looked out the window from the kitchen and saw Root sitting at a table with the number. The guy kept touching Root on her arm and shoulder. What an asshat, Shaw thought. She twisted a dishtowel in her hand and glared at the table.

One of the cooks in the kitchen walked up behind Shaw and noticed her looking out at the table.

“Yeah, I hate when I run into an ex. That guy does seem like the worst,” said the other cook.

“Can you just go and do soufflé something?” Shaw barked at the guy.

Shaw seethed in anger. She didn’t know what made her angrier – that this asshat number thought he could touch Root or that Root was allowing it to happen. Was she enjoying it? Shaw squinted her eyes as she continued to stare at them.

Shaw continued to peek out from the kitchen; she pushed the kitchen door open a little so she could see more Root and the asshat guy. The guy put his arm around Root, who flinched at first, then relaxed only slightly. Then Shaw watched as a tall, lanky, yet elegant woman joined their table and put her arm around Root too. Shaw thought what kind of threesome hell is this?

Fusco came to stand next to her as he was holding a tray of food.

“I’m going to deliver this, see if I can get a closer look,” Fusco said, but before he could move, Shaw snatched the tray from his hands. “Hey, I’m the waiter, you’re the cook.”

“Nobody wants to eat food delivered by you, Fusco,” Shaw grumbled as she walked towards the asshat’s table. He had to be the perpetrator and not the victim. She glanced at the asshat and the woman, but her eyes were glued to Root.

The fake sous chef stormed out of the kitchen carrying the tray of appetizers. She marched over and slammed the tray down so hard the sauce in the tiny decorative bowls went flying, and most of the food flew up off the tray landing all over the table.

“Compliments of the kitchen,” Shaw said gruffly to Root and the asshat guy and skanky woman.

“We don’t want any of this mess. Take it away, waitress.” The asshat’s voice was dripping with so much condescension and entitlement that Shaw (had to clench her fists to keep from hitting him) and Root winced in pain.

Root looked up at Shaw with a sly grin. She couldn’t help smiling, seeing Shaw so miserable, and she hoped the grumpy firecracker was miserable because of her and not because she hadn’t gotten to shoot anyone yet.

Shaw stormed off into the kitchen.

“I need to use the powder room. Be right back, darling,” Root said smoothly to the asshat. She then turned to the woman on the other side of her, “…and darling.” She extracted herself from the overly handsy number’s hold around her shoulders and headed towards the bathroom. When she could tell human eyes weren’t following her anymore, she detoured to the kitchen.

Root walked into the big, fancy kitchen and saw Shaw kneading some dough. Her petite primary asset was pounding this poor dough. Shaw had her hands covered in flour, and she worked the dough into submission.

“Got any churros?” Root stood there in her low cut, form-fitting stunning blue dress.

Shaw didn’t flinch. She just punched the dough harder. It was completely unclear on what kind of pastry might need that kind of beating. She stuck her hand into a container of flour and threw more flour down on the dough and punched it harder.

“How much longer do I have to play chef? Get your robot girlfriend to cut this one short.” Shaw pulled some dough up and tore the stringy substance into little pieces. She then looked up to stare into Root’s eyes, which she was learning was a big mistake. It was so damn easy just to keep staring.

Root stared into Shaw’s eyes.

“Root, I’m tired and hungry, and this is boring.” Shaw sounded like a grumpy teenager listing off things in an almost whiny tone. “I just want to go home.” Shaw continued to throw dough at the table. She broke eye contact.

“Shaw, you’ve done almost everything tonight but pee on me,” Root said with a sly grin aimed at Shaw. She hoped Shaw would look up again. She slowly got closer to Shaw.

“You did pee on me.” Shaw shout whispered at Root, she looked up and stared back at Root with her nostrils flaring. She could feel the heat coming off Root’s body now that she was standing so close. She could smell her intoxicating, infuriating familiar scent that already sent arrows of arousal shooting through her veins. The arsenal of arousal arrows shot through Shaw; it felt like all her blood was leaving her brain and heading downward.

Root stared at Shaw, exasperated. She didn’t know what she wanted. Shaw acted like she was jealous. Extremely jealous, yet also some kind of skittish, wild creature, so Root just decided to take a chance. She could feel the tension and heat in the air between them.

“For God’s sake,” Root said quickly before she shook her head and rolled her eyes. She had to steal a signature Shaw move because she was beyond exacerbated. She stared into Shaw’s eyes for a brief second, then lowered her eyes and focused on Shaw’s lips.

Root grabbed Shaw’s chef jacket and pulled her into a fierce, scorching kiss. Root kissed Shaw so hard that she was afraid she might get slapped for it; she was probably going to get slapped anyway. Instead, Shaw reciprocated immediately by wrapping her arms around Root’s neck to keep her in place and pull her into a deeper kiss. Root encircled her arms around Shaw’s waist pulling their bodies flush against each other. Shaw’s tongue pushed past Root’s lips immediately and went into a dominating mode of claiming Root’s mouth. Root let out a moan that should have been a lot quieter since they were both undercover.

Despite Shaw’s hands being covered with flour, they started roaming all over Root’s body, leaving a white trail over the expensive blue fabric of the hacker’s dress. Two prominent handprints on Root’s ass.

For one highly trained former government operative and one extremely skilled reformed killer for hire, neither women heard someone approaching as they were too busy kissing each other senseless to notice.

The cook guy who had talked to Shaw earlier came back wandering into the kitchen and nearly dropped his supplies from the freezer when he saw two women nearly tearing each other’s clothes off.

“Oh, it’s the chick. Yeah, that makes more sense,” said the cook guy who leered at Root and Shaw.

Root and Shaw tore their mouths reluctantly away from each other. Both sets of lips were already swollen, they were breathing heavily, and their clothes were all askew. Root had a murderous look in her eyes; she wanted that man dead for interrupting them.

“Damn…the two of you…so hot…” before he could finish Shaw darted towards him and punched him so hard in the face, he fell backward onto the tile floor completely knocked out.

As Root came over to stand next to Shaw over the guy, the kitchen door swung open again. The asshat guy and the tall, lanky woman entered.

“Is this a ruse? FBI partners who pretend to be a couple as to not to blow their cover?” The asshat pulled a gun from his coat pocket.

“We’re not really together together,” Root offered as Shaw glared at her.

“I don’t do relationships,” Shaw growled. Two could play this game.

“She would date me then dump me after three dates,” Root said, her voice hitching.

“Uh, you left. Not me.” Shaw snapped back.

“Because you were going to leave,” Root said harshly.

“But I didn’t,” Shaw said through gritted teeth.

“Ladies, you are both leaving now, together with your lady drama. Dead.” Asshat looked momentarily confused; then, he motioned with his gun to a henchman and the tall, lanky woman who entered the kitchen and stood behind him.

“Dump them in the usual place.”

Thankfully, Reese and Fusco came storming into the kitchen at the perfect time, and all hell broke loose. Shaw fought off the henchman while the asshat took cover behind a counter and shot at Reese and Fusco. The tall, lanky woman took off for the exit, so Root ran after her. Shaw threw the henchmen over her shoulder just in time to see the asshat aim his gun right at Root to shoot her in the back. Without thinking, Shaw grabbed her sidepiece and shot the asshat in the head. His body hit the floor with a thump.

Reese and Fusco looked over to Shaw, who remained expressionless over the dead guy. The guys looked a little surprised and concerned.

There was silence; nobody spoke for a few seconds.

“You made a good call,” Fusco said, solemnly. He put his hand on Shaw’s shoulder.

Reese made the same gesture. Shaw furrowed her eyebrows and thought if Root didn’t catch that asshat woman, she would shoot her too.

*****

“Finch, just go ahead and ground me. Bench me, whatever since I killed that guy.” Shaw shuffled into the subway and plopped herself down in one of the subway car seats.

Finch looked very serious as he turned to stare at Shaw.

“Sameen, there were circumstances. Ms. Gro…” Finch took a long pause. He stared at her for a few quiet moments. “…Root could have been gravely hurt. Your actions were understandable. If I had been in your shoes and Grace had been in that position…” He trailed uncertain he could voice his actions.

“You would kill them all?” Shaw smirked.

“I didn’t like the outcome of today’s situation, yet I don’t want harm to come to a mutual comrade. She is a great friend.” Finch gave a weak smile to Shaw.

“And valuable asset,” Shaw added, thinking more pragmatically. “I would have done the same for Reese. Maybe not Fusco or you.”

The two very different people sat quietly with each other, it was slightly awkward yet a lining of comfort. Although, Shaw still planned on torturing Finch for shooting her in the leg.

“Ms. Shaw, have you considered the obvious…” Finch wanted to choose his words carefully. Shaw was easily set off, and this was a delicate topic.
“Don’t say it, Harold,” warned Shaw.

“I think you and Ms. Groves are in a relationship,” said Finch. “I believe you and Ms. Groves have already shared the majority of the embarrassing oddities of being physically close to someone in what a relationship constitutes by society’s standards.”

“Never did like societies or standards,” Shaw snapped. “Harold…” Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down for a moment. Then, she looked back up into Finch’s eyes and stared intensely, “Sometimes I feel like she’s a virus within a virus that she created herself to infect me. She probably learned it from The Machine or you.”

“You might be correct. And you might also be…” Finch looked pained to say it for fear of maybe getting punched.

“Harold…” Shaw gave him a pointed, serious look to say that if he finishes his thought, she might actually hit him this time. “I got it.”

Shaw got up and stormed out of the subway.

*****

Fusco, Reese, and Finch were back in the subway once again, talking about Root and Shaw.

“Okay, so we need to start Operation Parent Trap now,” Fusco said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Agreed. I think we might need to do some intervention regarding recent developments,” Finch replied.

“What if we plan a grand romantic gesture for them?” Reese asked and, in return, got two surprised looks from Fusco and Finch. “What?”

Both Fusco and Finch shook their heads, pleasantly surprised by the contribution of Reese.

“Doesn’t one of them need to run to the airport? Like in the movies?” asked a confused Fusco.

“Mr. Fusco, it’s not always an airport. It’s metaphorical.” Finch furrowed his brow while Reese just shook his head.

“We can’t be that obvious, we need to be discreet,” said Finch. “It needs to be their idea.”

Fusco stood up and paced around the subway. “Yeah, look who we’re dealing with.” He was talking to himself.

“What if we just follow the movie? Set up a dinner for them?” Reese threw the question out there.

“Food will bring Shaw in,” Fusco shrugged.

“And scotch,” Reese added.

“Bam! I’ve got the best idea. I think it will work.” Fusco clapped his hands together in his brilliant idea.

“It’s not obvious, right?” Finch questioned. “Discretion is key. I still think nudging is better than shoving.”

“Oh yeah, it’s gonna work,” Fusco nodded, a huge smile on his face.

“Where can we get 100 bags of sand?”

*****

The Machine had sent a message to Root, telling her to go to the subway for a critical mission. Yes, the Machine had been recruited for Operation Friend Trap. The Machine had also changed the name of the operation. She told the guys she thought of Root and Shaw as more like disaster gay aunts than parents and that she had consumed all the metadata from Tumblr, so she had a different perspective on some stuff now. The Machine sent separate messages to both Root and Shaw, instructing them to arrive at the subway at a certain time.

When Root arrived at the subway, the first thing she noticed was the crunch under her boots. She looked down to see the subway floor was covered in sand. The entire subway was bathed in a blueish light, along with a warm glow brought on by candles lit everywhere and all the monitors displaying campfires.

Shaw came bounding down the subway stairs and nearly fell down when she saw the transformation. It looked like a luau had thrown up in the subway. Along with all the candles, there were colored lights strung up everywhere. There was a big sandcastle near the entrance to the subway car itself. Flowers were draped all along the walls. Sand covered the floor. A massive table was set up with food and drinks, all in a Hawaiian theme. Ocean sounds were playing from several hidden speakers, but also there was light music playing.

“Is that Kokomo?!” Shaw shouted in an agitated tone. “Fusco!”

“He does love a good saxophone solo,” Root casually added as she waltzed over to Shaw. “We should be thankful, Fusco isn’t here himself doing a karaoke version.”

“Where the hell did you come from?” Shaw looked over to Root with wide eyes. Her eyes betrayed her, raking up and down Root’s body in a way that made her cheeks feel warm.

“Over by the ‘ocean,’ which is an inflatable swimming pool,” Root nodded to the far end of the subway. “Which I’m guessing Bear is going to love once he sees it.”

Both women stared at each other. Shaw broke eye contact first to look around again. They stood wearing heavy winter coats, scarves, and hats while a fake beach surrounded them. It was definitely warmer in the subway, too. Huge heaters had been brought down along with all the decorations and sand.

Root walked over to the monitors and looked into the camera. “Are you in on this too?”

The hacker continued to glare at the blank screen. Then some words appeared on the screen in a continuous scroll with musical notes, “Let’s get together, yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you and I combine. We could have a swingin’ time. We’d be a crazy team. Why don’t we make a scene together.”

“Not funny,” Root stood up and crossed her arms against her chest.

Shaw walked over with a fruity drink in a big pineapple cup; she proceeded to spill the contents all over the monitor and keyboard. Then she tore off her coat, the room and the nearness of Root making everything insufferable warm.

“God. You make me crazy. This isn’t my life,” Shaw growled out in frustration as she went back to the table to get another fruity drink.

“I’m not the one that set this up,” Root put her hands on her hips and said defensively. She took off her coat too; she threw it over some monitors, covering some of the cameras.

Shaw took another big fruit pineapple drink and downed the whole thing, then slammed it on the table in frustration. She looked at Root.

“I’m not around people all the time like this. I’m not used to being around someone all the time like we were in Hawaii, and I didn’t get tired of you, which was really…annoying. I don’t do relationships because they require work that I can’t do. I can do about anything from taking out your appendix to dismantling a hydrogen bomb, but making someone happy is not in my skill set.” Shaw rushed out all at once. She breathed heavily and quickly looked at Root for her reaction. Her eyes were a little wild, almost as if she was on a dangerous mission.

Root started back at Shaw with a warm smile.

“You haven’t re-evaluated your skill set in a while because you do make people happy. Look how happy you make Bear. You make everyone on this team happy, whether you like it or not. And you make me tremendously happy, Shaw.” Root put her hands up to emphasize. “Without even trying.”

“Root…” Shaw looked defeated like she had been punched in the gut, and the wind knocked out of her.

“Shaw…you make me happy just being a part of my life, and you save my life on multiple occasions, which also makes me happy. Then, sometimes, I get to save your life, which makes me happy, and then there was the sex.” Root had a dopey look on her face now.

Shaw just stood motionless, not knowing how to respond.

“Shaw, I want you for more than three nights, that’s why I left. I only left because three nights will never be enough concerning you and that pain was worse than any bullet.” Root felt breathless now, trying to say everything to Shaw she needed to say.

Root could feel her emotions building stronger and bubbling to the surface; she fought back oncoming tears. She wanted to continue on; she didn’t know if she would ever get a chance to talk to Shaw like this again in this somewhat creepy, poorly made, beach luau setting.

“You told me never to take a bullet for you. The same goes for you. Don’t you ever do that for me.” Root had a crazed look in her eyes. “I’m so uninterested in a world that doesn’t include you, Shaw.”

Shaw stared back at Root. She could tell Root’s eyes were watery and threatening to spill over and run down her cheeks.

“In any capacity, friend or foe. Clothed or unclothed.” Root gazed intensely into Shaw’s eyes. “Just you in the world. In my world in some small or big way.”

“I can’t make that promise.” Shaw stared back and moved closer to Root.

“I can’t make that promise, Sameen. I’ll step in a hail of bullets for you if the time comes.” Root knew she was about to let loose, and she didn’t want to cry in front of Shaw.

“Root…” Shaw said in a hoarse voice.

It was too late; Root had already stormed out of the subway luau.

*****

Fusco poked his head in the subway and then slowly crept down the stairs to see if Root and Shaw were still there. He almost hoped to be scarred for life by seeing them reconcile in whatever scary chick way they were going to. Yet, when his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lights, he saw Shaw sitting by herself in the sand. She was running her hands back and forth, making circles in the sand. Fusco sighed heavily and made his way over to sit by his friend and teammate.

“I know you don’t do relationships, but you might want to take another look. She took care of you when you got stung, and it was gross, and I know you like her on some level, some kind of Shaw level, or you would probably have killed her by now.” He smiled at Shaw.

Shaw didn’t look up at him. She took a sip of her fruity drink and continued running her hands in the sand.

“Look, you two…are odd ducklings. You don’t fit in with other ducks. Have either of you ever gone out to party or group of people and thought to yourself, ‘those are my kind of people’?” Fusco raised his eyebrows.

“No,” Shaw looked up at Fusco this time. She noticed he was wearing a terrible Hawaiian shirt.

“I’m willing to bet that Root is the only human being you can stand being with for a long stretch of time. Same goes the other way, too.” Fusco said softly with warm eyes towards Shaw.

“If you don’t stop the loop of Kokomo playing, I’m going to murder you in your sleep and bury you in that hideous Hawaiian shirt,” Shaw growled at Fusco.

*****

Hours later, Root sat in her apartment and realized she still hadn’t been able to write any successful code, so she gave up and went to bed. She changed into a tank top and a stolen pair of Shaw’s boy shorts. As she was brushing her teeth, she heard a knock on her door. The Machine hadn’t alerted her that someone would be knocking on her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so the knock could be good or bad. She grabbed her gun and held it behind the door, just in case.

When she opened the door, Root was very pleasantly surprised to see Shaw on the other side. Root watched Shaw’s eyes glance up and down her body, no doubt clocking the stolen underwear with a sneer, but the petite primary asset’s eyes also deeply darkened. The hacker let a tiny smirk tug at her lips for the effect she had on Shaw.

“Do you usually open your door in your underwear?”

“Only for you,” Root smiled at Shaw.

Shaw brought out a canvas from behind her back. It was Root’s collage vision board from the arts and craft therapy session, her good code people vision board.

“This ended up in my suitcase…” Shaw offered it out to Root to take.

Root couldn’t believe Shaw had her vision board from the art therapy session. She willed herself not to cry, but her eyes watered up anyway. She turned her head and forced a hard cough, a hard cough was good for warding off fainting, and in some cases, she found crying.

“I’ve got a nice companion piece in here to go with it,” Root motioned to the table where Shaw’s vision board was propped up against the wall.

Shaw walked into Root’s apartment while the hacker beamed out a smile and closed the door.

“Root…” Shaw paused; she couldn’t stop starring into Root’s eyes. She never wanted to look into anyone’s eyes as much as Root’s. And stupid kissing. Here she stood wanting to kiss Root again, always wanting to kiss her. She never wanted to kiss anyone as much as Root. “I don’t do relationships.”

“Shaw, I like you just the way you are.” Root moved a little closer to Shaw in the living room now.

“You deserve a relationship,” Shaw said sternly as if this was a fact.

“Who says?” Root’s eyebrows shot up and furrowed as she continued to stare hard at Shaw.

Shaw shrugged.

“What I probably deserve…” Root drawled out, moving yet closer to Shaw.

“Is a swift kick in the pants” Shaw didn’t move away.

“I would prefer a long lick in the pants.” Root was a few inches from Shaw now, and she could feel the heat coming off her body.

Shaw rolled her eyes.

“What I deserve and what I need are different things. Also, what I want. And…actually what I want and what I need are finally aligned for the first time in my life, I think.” Root smiled warmly at Shaw.

Root waited and watched Shaw. Her stomach felt like a swarm of butterflies were having a rave.

“What do you want?” Root asked Shaw, afraid to hear the answer yet desperate at the same time to hear the answer.

“I want to have sex with you a lot. And I don’t want you to get killed. Well…not by anyone other than me.” Shaw stared at Root’s lips.

“That’s all I want. Plus, I want to kiss you a lot. Have you seen your lips? They’ve got a great shape.” Root licked her lips as she stared at Shaw’s great shape.

Shaw didn’t want to leave; all she wanted to do was spend the night with Root. Her brain tried to wrap around how to process this new aspect of her life—this life change. Then, something clicked in her head.

“So…we had like an island agreement in Hawaii, right?” Shaw asked as she ran her tongue over her lips.

Shaw shifted her weight from one leg to another leg. She felt heat sweeping through her body. Things made more sense to her now.

Root stared at Shaw anxiously, afraid and excited at the same time waiting to hear Shaw’s next words. Knowing they could go either way.

“You know…Manhattan is an island,” Shaw stated the fact as she stared at Root with a slow smile spreading across her face.

Root’s face lit up with a smile so big it could power Times Square if there was a power outage.

“You’re right. Manhattan is an island.”