PART III

She hadn't expected Shaw to come for her.

Root had resigned herself to the reality of her situation, and she understood that the chances of her own survival in order to protect everyone else weren't exactly stellar. Still, someone needed to get those corrupted servers into Decima, and the Machine had estimated that out of everyone, she had the best individual odds to do so. So Root made a careful effort not to promise Shaw anything when she spoke to her, not wanting her to believe that she would come back if she couldn't. In the end though, that must have struck something in the other woman, because she came out of nowhere at exactly the right time.

And suddenly, their odds of survival drastically spiked.

Root had known that they would improve should more than one of them go in, but both she and the Machine were so concerned about Harold's welfare that she thought it would be better if she just went in alone. Apparently, Shaw readily disagreed with that, if how fast she got there was any indication.

Which was strange, and utterly unexpected, because while Root had come to terms with her 'job' situation, she had also resigned herself to accepting her personal one as well. Nine out of ten, when the smoke cleared they were either going to be dead, or would never see one another again. So what use was it, dwelling on something she would never be able to have? So Root tried not to think about it; tried to do nothing else but focus on the mission in front of her, and yet Shaw's recent actions caused her attention to once again divert, because they didn't make sense.

After they had sex, Shaw had made it very clear that it had only been a one-time occurrence, and immediately distanced herself; emotionally as well as physically. She refused to sleep in the same bed with her, opting for the couch instead despite the king sized bed having more than enough room. Root tried to entice her with a promise of being woken up in a very enjoyable way if she stayed, but that was when Shaw reminded her that while the first was fun, she really wasn't interested in a second time as she didn't want to give her the wrong idea, and that had, unfortunately, been the end of it. She had been rather straightforward with her, terse bordering on aggressive, which had almost been like emotional whiplash for Root after the night they had shared. Still, she let it go. What else could she do?

Since then, Shaw was back to being irritated-slash-defensive with Root's incessant come-ons, which had become almost second nature to the hacker by then. Part of her knew she should stop, as it was obviously rubbing Shaw the wrong way, but in the end it had become rather habitual, and words were constantly out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them. Root was certain that if they had had a moment to actually talk, Shaw would tell her to knock it off, but after she had returned to New York the only thing that mattered was the beta test of Samaritan, and trying to survive it for when it truly went live.

It was because of this though – Shaw's constant irritated and dismissive attitude towards her – that Root was surprised that she had come. And she had tried to pull it out of her that she must have been worried about her, but of course Shaw shut down that theory the moment it left her lips. But in the end, why else would she come? Why else would she drop everything, in what had to have been not seconds after she had gotten off the phone with her, and risk Harold's safety over Root's own? It had to have been out of concern for her; it had to be.

But in the end, would Shaw even recognize if it was? She did have quite a hard time distinguishing not only other people's emotions, but her own. Perhaps it had just been an instinctual reaction, and as she didn't know how to begin to decipher the reasoning behind it, she gave Root the most generic answer she could think of. The mission; it was about the mission, she had said. But Harold had been the creator of the first God; and at the end of the day, he was far more important to the mission than Root was. Shaw had to have known that.

And yet she came anyway.

Root didn't know what to think of that, but it didn't much matter in that moment; they had a job to do, and so very little time to do it in. And so they embarked into enemy territory in order to infiltrate the corrupted servers, and a little while later everything was in place. They were running, hiding, gathering up their belongings and putting the finishing touches on what would soon become their new lives. And quite suddenly, when Root glanced at Shaw in the passenger seat of her car, a sharp pain shot through her chest as she realized that this would probably be the last time that she ever saw her.

She had known; known that it would be hard, to walk away from not only Shaw, but the rest of the team, but she hadn't actually expected for it to physically hurt. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she dug Shaw's new life out of the center console with her hand that wasn't holding on to the wheel, handing the woman a manila envelope with a wide variety of paperwork and a hefty amount of money to get her started. "Everything should be there."

Shaw shuffled through it, her expression dark and focused as she asked emotionlessly, "And the guys?"

She wouldn't look at her, and Root was almost fooled into believing that this abrupt change didn't faze her. But then with one glance, Root took note of the restlessness of Shaw's left leg, and the incessant chewing the other woman was doing to her inner cheek as she looked over the contents of the envelope, and quite suddenly she didn't look alright with this at all. In fact, if Root didn't know any better, she might think that Shaw was experiencing a fair amount of anxiety. Perhaps, in the end, she had laid down more roots in this place than she had originally thought.

"Reese already knows where to find his and Harold's." Implying that there was no more left to do, no more left to say; from here on out, it was radio silence between the only family Root had ever really known. They didn't even get to say their proper goodbyes, and it was terrible. In the end though, they knew they didn't have time; and the four of them together, even for just a few last words, was far too risky to attempt. They all had to go their separate ways.

Shaw was silent for a moment, her gaze still fixated on the paperwork in front of her. She looked as though she was more staring through it, rather than at it. "…Why do you have mine then?"

"What?"

"I should have been with them, right?" Shaw asked her, her thumb absentmindedly flicking the edge of one of the papers. She still wouldn't look at her; instead she exhaled a long breath as she shuffled the papers back into the large envelope. "I mean, that was your plan, right? For you to go off alone and probably get yourself killed while Reese and I play hero and save Finch. So then why did you keep mine, instead of leaving it with them?"

Because I wanted an excuse to see you, at least one last time. Because I'm stupidly sentimental, even though I know it'll never be reciprocated. Because I'm flawed, because I'm foolish, because I'm human.

Because of so many reasons, and yet Root didn't voice a single one of them. She didn't know how to answer that without telling her the truth, and that was the very last thing she wanted to do. She knew it wouldn't be received well, and so she kept herself quiet while she tried to form a viable excuse.

One never came to her.

Shaw exhaled a disbelieving laugh, glancing at her for a moment before shaking her head and staring out the car window. But instead of ripping into Root about feeling more than she should, Shaw just asked her, her voice rising a little, "And what if you had died, huh? You fucked off by yourself; you must have known your odds weren't great. I would have been left without a backup plan. This is exactly why I don't like complications, Root; they screw everything up. They cause people to make mistakes."

She was trying so very hard to sound angry with her, but in the end she only seemed frustrated with herself as she refused to meet eye contact and was practically tugging out her hair as she obsessively redid her ponytail. Root pursed her lips, watching her for a moment before she admitted, "I told Reese where to find yours, in case I didn't make it back."

She wasn't stupid, and she didn't make mistakes; at least not dire ones. Shaw would have been taken care of either way, but there was no hiding anymore that she had kept hers in order to see the other woman again. It was blaringly obvious at this point, even to someone who couldn't read others very well.

Shaw didn't say anything to that, apparently a little frustrated that her point had slightly backfired as she placed her elbow on the windowsill, pressing a hooked finger to her lips as she looked out at the rest of the world. The normal, seemingly unchanged world, where everyone went about their business, with no idea that nothing would ever be the same again. Ignorance truly was bliss, and unfortunately she and Shaw had neither.

"I just wanted to be able to say goodbye."

The silence that followed that was deafening, and Shaw's restless leg became a little more predominant. "Why?" The question was flat, direct. Root still was not graced with eye contact, and she bit her bottom lip as she continued to drive.

"Because you're my friend, Sameen."

Shaw scoffed at that answer. "And Finch and Reese, they're what?"

"—Different."

"Because you didn't sleep with them," Shaw guessed, her voice holding a defensive edge to it as she continued to watch the world pass them by. By this point, Root wondered why she couldn't look at her; what was she afraid she'd see there? Or worse, what was she afraid that she'd show?

In an effort to lighten the tension though, Root forced herself to chuckle and respond coyly with, "What makes you think I didn't sleep with them?" And that, at least, rewarded her with a disbelieving eye roll. It was something at least; a nostalgia Root never believed she would grow attached to, yet found strange enjoyment in all the same.

She was really going to miss those.

The voice in her ear suddenly chimed in, and Root immediately pulled the car over as a heaviness began to weigh down the pit of her stomach. A feeling of finality. "This is our stop," she told Shaw, putting the car into park before opening the door and stepping out. Shaw's brow furrowed as she took note of the designated parking space and the crowded streets.

"We're ditching the car here?" It seemed a bit public.

"Hiding in plain sight," Root explained, coming around the front of the car to get to the sidewalk as Shaw stepped out of the vehicle. "That's our new motto, so try not to do questionable things in back alleys anymore; might draw some unwanted attention." She smirked then, unable to help herself as she leaned against the brick building and amended, "But if you need one last hurrah to get it out of your system, I'm sure I could find a blind spot and a long list of ways we could fill your questionable activities quota."

Shaw just shot her a look like she had to be kidding her, but Root just bit her bottom lip and continued to smirk at her, until Shaw finally just exhaled an impatient breath and rolled her eyes, pursing her lips as she tried not to look amused by Root's incessant flirting. And it hurt more than it gave her joy, realizing that despite Shaw's constant show of annoyance there was actually a part of her that seemed to enjoy it, as she knew this would be the last time they would ever be able to do it.

The silence that fell between them then was awkward, both not really knowing how to say goodbye. Shaw's reluctance to just leave made Root's heart ache, as perhaps regardless of what the other woman said, she had probably found a friend in her as well. It wasn't often that that happened; for either of them. And now they had to walk away from it.

Root had never hated Samaritan more than in this moment.

"You know, you'd probably make him pop an aneurism," Shaw said after a moment, and when Root furrowed her brow in confusion the woman explained, "Finch. If you tried to sleep with him."

Root smiled, recognizing Shaw's referral to an earlier conversation as what it was; an excuse to talk, an excuse to stay, even for just a moment longer. Root had to wonder if she even realized why she was doing it. "And Reese?" she asked, curious as to Shaw's opinion on what would happen should she try to get him into bed. Shaw curled up her lip in disgust.

"Ugh. That's like thinking about my brother fucking my—" But she stopped, and Root's eyebrows rose.

"Your what?"

Shaw paused, a strange expression passing over her face for a moment. "—My coworker," she answered finally, flatly, shooting Root a look like she better not try to dispute that. Root smiled though, and it was soft; genuine. It was responded to with another eye roll, but it didn't matter; Root knew she was just deflecting it. Shaw might not feel the same way that she did, but there was a part of her that obviously cared for her. She just didn't seem to know what to do with it, or how to label it.

Not that it mattered anymore though.

The Machine's voice filtered into her ear again, and Root's stomach dropped. "We need to—we have to go," she told her, disappointment and apology in her tone. "Our covers aren't supposed to know one another, and we've spent too much time here as it is."

Shaw pursed her lips and nodded, her expression masking over into one of neutrality; distancing herself, even before they walked away from one another. Silence passed between the two women for one last moment before Shaw spoke, saying goodbye in the only way she knew how. "Try not to do something stupid and get yourself killed. If you let Samaritan win, I'm gonna be pissed."

It wasn't exactly a, 'don't die because I care about you,' but it was close enough for Root. She smiled softly as Shaw turned to leave, saying her goodbye in a much more straightforward way than the other woman. "…I'll miss you too, Sameen."

Shaw stopped at those words, hesitating for just a moment. But she didn't turn back around; didn't look at her. In the end, she had decided against complicating things further and began to walk away, leaving Root to watch her go before she finally turned around herself, and began walking in the opposite direction.

[x]

She couldn't stay away.

Root understood the need to lay low for the time being, but the lack of both numbers and any other form of communication from the Machine was inflicting a terrible loneliness within her. Still, she pressed on with her mission, unable to just sit around and wait for orders when Samaritan was quickly destroying a world that was not it's to change. She inserted herself close to the people she believed to be Samaritan's pawns; unwitting participants that were unknowingly doing its bidding, and kept tabs on their activities. It wasn't enough, but it was something; and it was far safer than trying to go deeper into Samaritan's operations, especially when she was utterly alone in this.

And in the end that was what gnawed at her; being alone. Root tried to ignore it, but the feeling relentlessly continued to consume her with each passing day, until it finally caused her to do something that was no doubt very stupid; visit Sameen at work. It had been months since they had seen one another – since they had parted ways with every intention of never speaking to each other again – and yet Shaw addressed her as though she had been expecting her; like she knew, at the end of the day, none of them would be able to sit back and just let Samaritan have this world.

That just wasn't how they were built.

Shaw asked about a number, and Root hated having to tell her that she didn't have one. That in all honesty, she didn't have a reason for being there; that she just wanted to see her. So she conjured up the excuse of having a job interview, and let Shaw think that the Machine was still very much present in their lives, giving the former operative the hint about Angler, even though She hadn't told her to do so. It was just something Root had heard about through the grapevine, and she didn't want Shaw to be unhappy; which she clearly was at this job. And in the end, Root made herself rationalize that criminals were rather ordinary in New York, so why would Samaritan look twice at petty thievery?

She hoped she was right, but Root resigned herself to believe that if she wasn't, that the Machine would have ceased its radio silence and told her. They were Her assets, and She wouldn't knowingly let them walk into danger unprepared.

She should have just left it at that – one visit – but Root never did have much self-control. She took it upon herself ages back to keep tabs on all of her former colleagues, and thus was very much aware of where Shaw went when she wasn't at home; a small bar on the outskirts of downtown. It wasn't much; frequented by old timers more than anything else, but there must have been something about it that Shaw liked, because she visited it at least three times a week.

And it was nearly a week after their last meeting that Root found herself there against all intelligent reasoning. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" she asked coyly, sliding into the seat next to Shaw before leaning her elbow on the bar, tussling her fingers in her hair.

The eye roll at the terrible line that she was fed came before her surprise over who had said it, apparently having some kind of second nature when it came to Root. But when she glanced at her, the fact that Root was very much here when by all accounts she shouldn't be anywhere near her, was immediately addressed with, "What the hell are you doing here, Root?"

"Getting a drink; what does it look like?"

"You don't think that's a little risky? We've already been seen together once."

"Yes, and… who was I that day? Jane, I believe her name was. Well, she was very interested in you," Root responded playfully, winking at her before she waved the barkeep over. As he approached, she finished, "And now she just so happened to have run into that hot saleswoman that she met last week at the department store, and is deciding to take her chances with buying her a drink." The bartender approached then, and Root told him, "Martini; gin, extra dry. And another one of whatever the lovely lady is having."

Shaw looked exasperated by the 'lovely lady' comment, yet didn't say no to Root buying her a drink. Apparently, she wasn't nearly as bothered by her presence as she liked to let on. As the bartender left to prepare their order, she asked, "What is this, some kind of kinky role play for you? Because I'm pretty sure we already had a conversation about repeat performances, Root."

"Repeat performances?" Root asked, feigning confusion before she smirked and finished, "Because correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Sameen Gray and Jane Porter have ever slept together before."

Shaw's expression indicated that she wasn't amused with Root's little technicalities. "—Cute," she deadpanned. "But still no."

Root placed her tongue beneath her incisors, lightly twisting the hair at the base of her neck; completely undeterred, despite Shaw's blunt refusal. As Shaw had never been the most forthcoming about what she was feeling, Root had decided to implement a three-time rule before she completely dropped the subject. She didn't want to push too far, after all. "Why; afraid you'd like it too much?"

"Afraid you will," Shaw corrected, unapologetically direct. She paused for a moment though as the bartender returned with their drinks, and after Root had paid she exhaled a hard breath before downing the rest of her previous shot. As the glass hit the table, she told her, "You shouldn't be here; you know you shouldn't be here. This is exactly the kind of shit I'm talking about, Root."

"You read too much into things," Root tried to deflect, casually twirling the olive skewer in her drink as she tried to ignore the tightening of her abdomen. "And besides, like I told you, our covers have a perfectly good reason for being here, so I don't know why you're worrying."

"Yeah, if by 'perfectly good reason' you mean that your cover stalked mine."

Root shrugged after she had taken a sip of her drink, looking rather unperturbed by the accusation. "Stalkers are rather ordinary, Sameen."

"—Romantic," Shaw deadpanned, looking at Root like she couldn't believe she just used that as an excuse, of all things. "Maybe your cover gets off on that, but mine doesn't. So if I don't go home with you tonight? It wouldn't exactly be a red flag."

Root chose to ignore that, a slow smile stretching across her face as she crossed her legs and told her, "You know, this is kind of fun; pretending to be other people. We should play this game more often."

Shaw just stared at her. "…You need professional help."

"Tried that; it didn't exactly pan out." Shaw shot her an unamused look as Root took another casual sip of her martini, trying to hide her smirk. "Relax," Root told her. "I'm aware of your little rules, and I'm not asking for anything other than a drink; and seeing as you haven't walked out on me yet, I'm assuming you're not exactly against that."

Shaw pursed her lips, her fingers gently tapping the glass of her beverage. "Fine," she conceded finally, making it sound like some huge burden to her, even though she was pretty quick to answer in Root's favor. Maybe the hacker wasn't the only one who had been getting lonely these past couple months. "One drink."

One drink quickly turned into two, then four, and then seven. Root only had to push for the second one; the rest was all Shaw, who had implied that no matter what Root said she could easily drink her under the table. And although it was a challenge that was no doubt extended just so she could have Root stay without explicitly asking for it, she wasn't wrong. Shaw could drink her under the table, as indicated by the fact that Root's inhibitions had now gone completely out the window while Shaw's seemed to be only mildly affected.

"Why don't you want friends, Sameen?" Root asked airily, leaning heavily against the pool table as Shaw lined up her shot. She didn't even have to squint, which was more than Root could say in her own favor at the moment.

"Didn't say I didn't," Shaw told her, voice flat and focused before she hit the cue ball dead center, pocketing another two balls in the process. Root's brow rose, impressed. "I just don't want any complications in my life; we got enough shit going on right now."

"And you think I'll be one?" Root asked, watching Shaw walk around to the right side of the table to line up her next shot. "A complication?"

"You already are one," Shaw told her evenly, her voice sounding almost distracted as she continued to absolutely destroy Root in a game of pool. Root didn't miss the implication in that though and turned towards her, intrigued; almost encouraged. But then Shaw deflected it back on her and finished, "Pretty sure that's why you're here right now."

The balls smacked together loudly as she took her next shot, and she only narrowly missed sinking in another one. As Shaw straightened up and looked at her, Root pursed her lips in mock thought as she moved around the table to try to find the best angle. Not that it mattered much though, as she doubted she would get any in anyway; right now, this game was more for Shaw's entertainment than her own.

"You think I want to date you?" Root asked as she began to line up her own shot, trying to keep her voice light and disbelieving, because it was just easier to lie. She really didn't want to be shot down completely; not now, not when she was already feeling so abandoned and alone.

"Don't you?"

"I already told you, I just want us to be friends," Root responded lightly, almost innocently, squinting a little as she tried to see the cue ball a little clearer. "I can think you're hot and want to fuck you without it being anything more than that, you know."

Interestingly, Shaw didn't have a retort to that. In fact, it seemed she was actively considering that theory, if her expression was anything to go by; which it wasn't, not really, as Shaw rarely showed what it was that she was feeling, but by now Root would like to think that she had learned to read the other woman's subtle signs.

Of course, in the end, Root was hammered and may just be seeing what she wanted to see. Who knew anymore.

She tried to hit the ball then, but the cue stick completely missed it, scratching the green part of the table instead. Root practically doubled over with laughter, suddenly finding her drunken failure incredibly funny for some reason. She didn't even know why, but it just… it was. It was downright hilarious.

Shaw tried to sound exasperated with her, but honestly all it came out sounding was amused as she watched Root lean her elbows against the table and try to stifle her laughter. "Yeah, I can definitely see how you could drink me under the table," she told her sardonically. "You're totally fucked right now, aren't you?"

Root licked her bottom lip suggestively as she pushed herself off the table, putting all of her weight against the far wall as she tried to steady herself. "Not like how I want to be, unfortunately," she answered, running her fingers through her tussled hair. Looking at the woman across from her, Root shot her a devious grin and finished, "Care to fix that, Sameen?"

Shaw quirked an eyebrow and smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Walk in a straight line for me right now and maybe I'll think about it."

"—Really?"

"No." The immediate crumpling of Root's expression then made Shaw laugh, no doubt thinking she was being overly dramatic in her inebriated state. She wasn't entirely wrong, but still. Throwing her pool stick on the table, Shaw announced, "Time to go, Lightweight; get your coat."

For once, Root didn't argue with her. Clearly she was three sheets to the wind at this point.

After the hacker had done what she was told and Shaw paid for the rest of the bill, the operative escorted her out of the building. But instead of Shaw walking her towards her car, or pulling out her phone to call her a cab – which probably would have been the smarter of the two ideas, given the circumstances – she just told her, "Come on," and began walking down the street. Root's eyebrows rose, standing stock still for a moment before her brain seemed to catch up to the situation and she jogged to catch up to her, surprisingly managing to not trip over herself in the process.

"Wait—was that an invitation?" she asked, surprised enough not to lace the question with crude innuendos, even though that was still the first place her brain went. Shaw's place was only a few blocks from there, which was probably why the woman went so often; the convenience. If she got too drunk, she could always walk home; like now. Even though, by comparison, she didn't seem nearly as drunk as Root was in that moment.

"Yeah well, this is what 'friends' do, right?" Shaw asked, her tone holding a fair bit of sarcasm despite the look on her face making it seem as though the question was actually entirely serious; like she wasn't really sure, but maybe wanted to learn. "Make sure their drinking buddies don't end up in a ditch somewhere. Besides, I'd never hear the end of it from Finch if you did, so this saves me the headache."

Root grinned, unable to hear any other part of Shaw's obvious downplay of her admission that she, in fact, wouldn't be opposed to the idea of having her as a friend. Maybe, in the end, Root wasn't the only one who was feeling lonely; maybe she wasn't the only one who found some sense of permanency in their merry little band of misfits, and found she craved to have it back once it had been taken from her.

"Careful, Sameen; you almost sound as if you care," Root teased, looping her arm in the other woman's as she fell into step with her. Shaw side-eyed her, shooting her an irritated look. And yet, unfathomably, she didn't untangle herself from the other woman. Perhaps she was a little more drunk than Root had originally thought, because there was no way a sober Sameen would allow her to practically hang all over her.

"Less and less as this conversation goes on," Shaw commented dryly, but Root just smirked knowingly, leaning into her just slightly as they turned the corner. "Look, just—don't make this into a thing, okay?" she requested, untangling herself from Root as she stopped in front of her apartment building and dug her keys out of her pocket. "I don't like people in my business, so just do me a favor and keep this to yourself."

Root's brow rose, wondering if she was just imagining the implication in that, or if Shaw really just didn't want people to know that she actually cared about another human being. Both scenarios seemed plausible. "Keep what to myself, exactly?" she asked, leaning against the stairwell railing; mostly to steady herself without Shaw's help. "Last I checked, friendships weren't exactly 'dirty little secret' material."

"Yeah well, I thought yours came with strings attached."

Root's expression masked in surprise. Well, she certainly hadn't been expecting that. But Shaw was… Shaw was fairly hard to read; she always had been. It was why Root had found her so fascinating in the first place. She didn't really go about things like normal people did; didn't go through the regular range of emotions before eventually settling on one and expressing it. In all honesty, Root wasn't sure how or when Shaw had reached the decision that yes, she might want to be Root's friend, and yes, she wasn't entirely opposed to the unique benefits of that, but she wasn't about to complain about thinking she was ten steps behind where she actually was because, well, she wasn't an idiot.

"Perks," Root corrected, not wanting Shaw to think that the only way they could be friends is if they were fucking one another. She wasn't that much of an asshole. "Ones that we don't have to have, if that's not what you want." She paused then, tilting her head to the side curiously as she watched Shaw unlock the door and push it open. "But… do you?" Root asked, needing to know; at least before they went up there. "Want to have them?"

Shaw turned around, looking at her for a fairly long time, expression relatively unreadable. "Tell you what," she responded finally. "You stop looking like you're about to fall over, and I'll let you know."

Root scrunched up her nose in grumpy protest at that blatant runaround, despite the fact that maybe, just maybe, Shaw was only saying that to her because she didn't want to take advantage of her when she was clearly drunk. Which, in her rather inebriated state, Root found utterly ridiculous, because hadn't she been clear that even when she was sober she would love to be bent over by this woman? Still, she had to squint to even look at Shaw clearly right then, and maybe… alright, maybe she was able to recognize that now wasn't the best time, despite that being irritating as hell, because she had gotten this close.

Her sullen mood didn't last very long however, once Root realized a very important piece of the conversation. "Fine. But you know what I couldn't help but notice?" Root began, a slow smirk beginning to cross her face as she climbed the stairs. As she went to pass Shaw in the door way though she stopped, practically pressing herself entirely against the other woman for a moment as she breathed pointedly in her ear, "You didn't say no."

Shaw chuckled softly, apparently finding something amusing in Root's little display, before she deliberately pressed her hips hard against the hacker's, nudging Root out of the way so she could close the door behind them.

"You're right," she admitted, turning around and lightly trailing her fingers over Root's abdomen as she passed her to go up the stairs. It was so gentle that it could have been an accident, but they both knew that it wasn't. "…I didn't."

TBC…