"No, no, no. Sameen, wake up. You have to stay awake. Sameen!"

Shaw's eyes had already closed. Root felt around for a pulse, sighing in relief when she felt one, albeit faint. She reached out for her phone, dialling John, Harold and Lionel, but to no avail.

"Damn it!" she hissed, frustrated, looking around for a car to hotwire to drive them back to the subway. "Guess I have to do this like old times, Sweetie," she grunted, dragging Shaw's body to the nearest car.

As soon as she arrived in the subway, John shot up from his place inside the subway car and carried Shaw in his arms as if she weighed nothing, Lionel appearing behind him as he handed Sander over Root.

Sander cooed at the sight of his mother, Root smiling back at him in relief that he was safe.

"Hi, baby," she cooed, Sander babbling in gibberish with a smile on his face, his hands touching her wherever he could reach. Root kissed each hand, resulting to Sander babbling further. "Yes, I missed you too, Sander. Mama missed you, too."

"You're lucky he's mostly behaved and not at all like a nutball, or I would've gotten caught out there," Fusco commented, a victorious, tired smile on his face.

(Root and Shaw had handed Sander over to Lionel before their last fight against Samaritan, knowing out of all of them, he would be safer with Lionel.

"He has better padding," Shaw had reasoned, which Root still chuckled at whenever she remembered. She surely missed Shaw's dry humour.)

"Thank you, Lionel. Really," she said, meaning every word of it.

Fusco smiled. "You owe me dinner, Cocoa Puffs. This whole cyber apocalypse was a huge pain in the ass, ya know?"

Root smirked at him, placing with Sander's fingers in her hand. "I thought you had a lot of padding in there?"

Fusco chuckled, shaking his head incredulously at the reference, ruffling Sander's little amount of hair before leaving, but not before turning around.

"See ya around, but not soon I hope. I need some goddamn massage after this, seriously!"

Root smiled, glad that he survived. Really. Out of all of them, he didn't deserve to die. It wasn't his fight.

"Bye, Lionel!"

She turned around and made her way to the subway car, intent on finding Harold but finding no one in there. Frowning, she went to where John was just placing gauze over Shaw's gunshot wound, a blood bag connected to her.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, Reese looking up minutely, before shrugging.

"Disappeared as soon as the missile hit." At the panicked look on Root's face, Reese added, "Finch is fine. Probably just wanted time on his own, since, you know..." the Machine.

Root felt the same way, but more than anything, she was glad that her family was complete. She was devastated about the Machine, sure, but something told her it wasn't the end of Her. Yet.

Sameen, on the other hand...

"She'll live, Root. She's a fighter."

Root didn't know whether John was referring to Shaw or the Machine, but Root chose to take it as both.

-

The Machine, as Root expected (and immensely hoped), pulled through and actually woke up with a new version of Herself a week after they defeated Samaritan.

The biggest surprise wasn't how She had managed to survive the Ice-9 and revive Herself, but how She had used Root's voice to communicate with them. Sometimes She sounded mechanical, not at all like Root even though She was using her voice. Other times, she freaked Root and everyone else out (especially Sameen) with Her accurate impression of Root -- which the Machine had adapted over the course of the weeks.

Harold came back as soon as he heard about the Machine, looking more fresh and well-rested that Root hadn't been able to help herself but ask.

"You're looking well-rested, Harry."

"Oh, you're looking well yourself, Ms. Groves. How's Alessandro?" He'd asked, obviously trying to deflect the subject to Root.

"He's growing up so fast. I mean, it's not surprising. He takes after Sameen in the eating department after all."

He'd hummed, amused. "I see. That's nice to hear."

"What about you? Anything interesting happen to you?" she'd asked, genuinely curious about Harold's disappearance. She had worried about him endlessly, even to the point of pissing off Sameen.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with, Ms. Groves. The Machine needs us to save numbers, and that's all that matters," he'd answered, a bit terse if not for his kind tone, and Root had eagerly dropped the subject.

Everything went back to normal after that. Normal, but Root could say it was even better.

It had been a month after Samaritan's demise, and Shaw still lived with Root and Sander in one of Harry's safe houses that he had let her use.

Root and Shaw hadn't talked about what it was between them, but they definitely acted like they were together -- kissing, hand holding, taking care of Sander together -- and it was all starting to confuse Root.

Root wasn't expecting anything from Shaw after they defeated Samaritan, except her responsibility for Sander. She expected Shaw to find her own apartment, because it was something Shaw would have totally done already, except she hadn't. And Root was starting to think that Shaw was only staying because of Sander, even though maybe she didn't even want to be there with Root. She didn't like the feeling of trapping Shaw, and it was bothering her.

"What's up with you?" Shaw's inquiry snapped her out of her thoughts, looking up from where she was staring at her laptop screen on the dining table to find Sameen smirking at her slightly.

"Oh," Root breathed, putting on her mask, trying to hide how bothered she was inside. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"That's not a good thing."

Root rolled her eyes, slightly amused by Sameen throwing some jokes at her, before resuming her typing... until the lid closed, her hands trapped on the keyboard. She looked up, and this time Sameen looked serious.

"Seriously, Root. What's with the Eeyore act?"

Root sighed, pulling her hand out from under the lid before closing it properly.

"Where's Sander?"

"Root."

Root sighed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "It's just... You know you don't have to stay here if you don't want to, right?"

"Is that your way of saying you want me to move out?" Shaw replied, Root traced a bit of anger in her tone. "Because if you want to, you can just--"

"No, Sameen. It's just, I thought you were only staying here for Sander, and I wanted to tell you that if you wanted to get your own place, you can. I'm not going to hide him from you."

Shaw stared at her in disbelief. "Are you suggesting that I don't want to stay here because of you?"

"I don't know, Shaw. Do you?" Root snapped, tone cold from the hurt brewing inside of her.

"Goddamn it, Root." Angered, Shaw furiously wiped her face in her hands, pacing around the dining room, before stopping in front of Root, hands holding her face in place. "Listen to me and listen to me hard. If you even suggest that one more time, I'm going to shoot you."

Well, that wasn't exactly comforting, and frankly made her more confused.

"Sameen..."

"Listen, nerd. I'm only going to say this once," she said, looking her straight in the eyes, and Root couldn't get herself to look away. "You saved my life. If you think I'm going to let you and my son out of my sight, then you're dumber than rocks because there's no way I'm leaving you two. Do you understand?"

Root didn't know what Shaw was talking about. And if it was honestly all because of indebted gratitude, Root wouldn't have it.

"But Sameen--"

"Whatever you think is happening between us, nerd, it's happening. Call it whatever you want, but it's happening," she said, emphasizing the last part with a smile.

Did she--? Was she saying that they were in a relationship?

"Is this someday, Sameen?" Root asked, not even hiding the surprise in her tone.

Shaw chuckled. "Sure, Root. Whatever you want to call it. Now stop being an Eeyore, you're creeping me out."

After that, things between them only became better.

-

Shaw was instinctively a great mother, just as Root expected her to be.

At first, when she would make a mistake, she'd be hard on herself and tell Root that she didn't know how to do it. That she was fucking it all up

Root had been quick to reassure her that she wasn't a shining example of motherhood either, and that she, along with Harold and John, learned the ropes from Fusco.

After that, Root knew Shaw was secretly meeting up with Fusco for exactly the same reason -- to learn about how to take care of a kid. Root had only known about it because of a slip-up from Fusco's end, but chose not to mention it to Shaw because she knew Shaw would only feel embarrassed.

Shaw got better not only because of Lionel -- Root was patient enough to teach her what she'd learned over those 3 months -- but also because Shaw was a fast learner, so much so that it didn't take long before Root could leave Sander alone with Sameen for a few hours, provided that she had already fed him.

Things only improved after that. As months passed, as Sander turned one, and as a year passed following Shaw's escape from Samaritan, Sameen and Sander's relationship only became more solid.

Once, Root had arrived home from a mission to find Shaw using Sander as her gym equipment -- using him as a barbell to bench press. Sander had been smiling at Shaw, and Shaw had a grin on her face. But Root had been horrified at the height even though she'd trusted Sameen not to drop him.

"What? He likes it when I include him in my workouts," Shaw had reasoned to her when she had admonished her.

"Still, Sameen. Can you please be more careful?"

Shaw had sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing her cheek as an agreement. "What's for dinner?"

Root remembered chuckling at her inquiry, and the earlier incident had already been forgotten.

It didn't happen again, and that's what Root had always liked in their relationship -- both of them had always claimed that they didn't do relationships, but so far, they had been nailing it; making sure to improve from their past mistakes.

And then Root felt her heart break when she saw Shaw lying in bed -- their bed -- with a stranger, and Root thought that whatever they had was over, for good.

Root and Shaw hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of their relationship. Yes, they were together, but they didn't talk about exclusivity. Root had only hoped that she was enough for Shaw, and so far until that day Shaw hadn't strayed, even though Root had expected that one day she might.

Or so she had thought anyway, but the Machine had told her that she had been drugged again, and Root had felt relieved. The make up sex after certainly made up for the ache she felt in her chest when she thought Shaw had found someone else, and as was always with the both of them, things only got better.

Sometimes, Root thought they were already like a married couple. They fought; sometimes it was petty, other times it was real, shouting, scratching each other's backs during make up sex type of fights, but they always pulled through. They were even better than the married ones, Root was sure.

How many couples get to shoot kneecaps together? Or blow things up? Their relationship was certainly more exciting and predictable than others'.

But there were times when Root couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to get married; to be married with Sameen. She knew it was far from happening. Shaw hadn't even said those three words to her even though Root saw it enough through her actions, what more a wedding?

Still, whatever Shaw could give was always enough for Root. If this was as far as it went for the both of them, she'd take it with open arms.

She'd gladly take Sameen in whatever way Shaw could give herself over anyone else.

-

The first time Shaw said I love you to her, Root thought she was dreaming.

Never in their relationship had Root thought that Shaw would say it to her; she had and has always shown it enough through her actions, and Root knew they were as much of an I love you she would ever get from Shaw, and that was okay with her -- it was enough.

Root had entered this relationship with full knowledge that Shaw may never say it, simply because she believed that she didn't feel anything, even though Root knew otherwise. It was something that Root would never force Shaw to say because she knew the sociopath would feel uncomfortable, and Root didn't like to burden her like that.

And so when Shaw said it, the only thing that Root had come up with was a stupid, baffled 'what?' from disbelief. It didn't help matters when Shaw had gone off on a rush muttering something about owing her dinner before proposing, and that was another shocker. The morphine on her system hadn't helped matters.

(Root almost thought she'd travelled to another dimension; in an alternate universe where Sameen Shaw was open about her feelings and had freely expressed them, compared to this version of her.

Honestly, Root preferred the latter. But that didn't mean it didn't feel good to hear it.)

Root's heart probably stopped beating then or it might have gone haywire, she wasn't sure. The only thing she was sure of was this: Shaw might have only done it for her sake, and not because she wanted it.

She didn't want Shaw to do something she might later regret, something she really didn't want to do, which Root voiced out to her. It may have only been influenced by Shaw's hatred (and fear) for what the incident earlier that night had made her feel.

But Shaw was Shaw when she was determined, and quickly threw Root's doubts out the window when she'd repeated it.

"You're it for me, Root. I'm serious. Will you be my annoying wife?"

Honestly, the word annoying only made the proposal better for Root. She wasn't able to control herself from bursting into tears then as she said yes.

Of course, it was a yes for Root.

The only other moments Root remembered herself being this happy were during Sander's birth and Sameen's return from Samaritan. Even then, this was different.

This was life giving her everything she never thought she'd have in her life because she knew she didn't deserve it. Most of all, this was Sameen giving her a happy ending, even when Root knew it made her uncomfortable.

Root couldn't control herself after that.

The thought of Shaw being comfortable with her and Sander -- of their family -- turned Root on far more than usual that she had found herself jumping her every chance she got. It was like one look her fiancee -- which Root still had a hard time believing -- was enough to fuel her body with desire, finding herself wet and ready for Shaw every single time.

Once, a few days after their engagement, Shaw had come from working the numbers while doing the mission.

She was bone tired, that much had been obvious, but Root couldn't help but think how even in her ragged state, Sameen was beautiful. It helped that she was wearing one of her tank tops, her ripped arms on display that Root couldn't help herself from standing up from her position on the couch, before jumping Shaw. Literally and figuratively.

They had been so into it that when Root was about to come, she had remembered that she left Sander in the living room, who had probably witnessed the whole thing.

Shaw had been angry with her for that, but Root made up for it later that night in the bedroom (as she always did) after persuading Shaw (as usual).

Another time, Shaw had also only just arrived home from working a number, this time with a slice on her stomach. It hadn't been too deep, but the sight of her abs had only aroused Root that she couldn't stop herself from giving her fiancee head while Sander was on the other side of the kitchen bar.

Root didn't know how to explain it if anyone asked. All she knew was that every time she saw Shaw, she wanted to jump her.

-

The wedding was simple, but everything Root wanted -- and what she only wanted was for Shaw to show up.

As soon as she had suggested not to see each other because of a suggestion of the Machine to do it (she hid the part to Shaw where the Machine gave her the idea), she had started having second thoughts.

What if the space allowed Shaw to think this was a mistake? To decide that she doesn't want this? What if Shaw doesn't show?

The Machine had seen right through her anxiety and had calmed her down by reminding her that Shaw had wanted this and that she wouldn't have bothered if she didn't want to; she was a sociopath after all.

When she had calmed down significantly, she had proceeded to practice her little gift for Shaw: a lap dance. Just thinking about doing it had Root aroused that she had to stop a couple of times to collect herself. But throughout the day and night, she had been able to come up with one that was acceptable -- at least, in her standards; she wasn't really much of a dancer (more like, she didn't know how to dance).

It paid off, of course.

Shaw liked it and told her in so many different ways how much she appreciated her gift that they ended up fucking well into the night, only sleeping when the sun had already risen up. The naps they took in between were never long -- one of them always reaching out to the other to start another round. Even after eating snacks, they couldn't help themselves. They simply couldn't take their hands off each other.

Root pulled off of her and collapsed on Sameen's chest, having just finished another round on their second day when she realized they hadn't exchanged their vows yet.

When she had finally caught her breath, she turned her head and leaned her chin on Sameen's chest, looking up at her from her position below.

"Sameen, I realized something."

"That your plan from two days ago sucked? Yeah, I know."

Root swatted her shoulder, Sameen chuckling at her with her eyes closed and hands running up and down Root's back.

"We haven't exchanged our vows yet."

Shaw's eyes closed, her hands stopping its movements.

"I think it's time we did it," Root added.

Shaw burrowed herself further into the pillow. "Maybe later? I'm sleepy."

"No, you're not," Root pouted.

Shaw feigned sleep, prompting Root to swat her shoulders again.

"Sameen!"

"Ugh, you wanna do this shit right now, why don't you go first?" Shaw grumbled, finally opening her eyes to scowl at Root.

"Okay." Root chuckled, pecking her cheeks. "Well, you already know that I love you, so there's no need for that. We have sex enough for you to know that."

Shaw snorted in amusement, but didn't say anything else.

"I promise I'll clean my stuff more," Root started.

"Now that's a vow I like."

Root smirked. "I thought so. I'll give you more massages especially when you're tired. And more if you're in the mood," Root purred, waggling her eyebrows.

Shaw rolled her eyes.

"I'll cook for you when you're especially grumpy, and I'll make sure you'll always have people to shoot and things to blow up."

"I'm liking this so far."

"Our marriage will never be sexless and boring."

"Thank fuck for that."

Root pecked her lips, Shaw biting her lower lip as she pulled away.

"That all?"

Root paused, looking down at her hands on Shaw's collarbone, playing with them.

"And... I promise that when it gets a bit too much for you, I'll give you your space. Or if you leave, it's okay... as long as you come back."

It was silent after that, both of them staring into each other's eyes, until Shaw cleared her throat.

"I, uh, I'll make sure your scrawny ass doesn't forget to eat, because you're an idiot who always forgets."

Root chuckled. "You always say the right words to get a girl going."

"Shut up," Shaw said, before chuckling. "Uh, you won't have to take care of Sander on your own."

Root swooned, hearing the implied I'll be there with you in her words.

Shaw shrugged from underneath her. "I guess I'll patch you up when you get shot, because we all know it's going to happen again."

Root chuckled, Shaw's hand running up and down her back as she looked thoughtful.

"And, uh, I'll probably suck at this a lot. I'll disappoint you and Sander. But I'll try. I..." she paused, rolling her eyes before exhaling. "I choose you, Root."

Root was overcome with emotions, not expecting Shaw to take their vows seriously. Speechless, the only thing Root could do was watch as Shaw unravelled herself.

"And so..." Shaw cleared her throat, her hand stopping just shy of Root's ass. "If you feel like I don't like this, just remember I make that choice everyday."

Root couldn't help herself from exhaling her happiness, tears pooling in her eyes. She was sure Shaw could feel how hard and fast her heart was beating, if her smirk was anything to go by.

"Your heart's beating really fast," Shaw pointed out. "That mean my crappy vow is good enough for you?"

It was far from crap.

"Oh, Sameen," she breathed, kissing Shaw's lips and lingering there before pulling away, fingers caressing Shaw's face. "I love you."

Shaw's face suddenly became serious. "I know, Root."

And then, as if on cue, Root felt the familiar pull of arousal deep in her belly, and couldn't help herself but smirk as she grinded on Shaw's cock again. God, she's never going to get over how good that feels.

Shaw groaned, hands finding purchase on Root's ass to pull her into her. "Again?"

"I hope you can keep up, Sweetie."

Root yelped in surprise when Shaw suddenly flipped them over, smirking from her position on top of her.

"Oh, I can keep up, alright," Shaw growled into her ear, and Root couldn't help but moan from the sound.

If it was even possible, sex between them was better after that.

-

Now, three months into their marriage, things are better in the Shaw household.

Root and Shaw are closer now. After Shaw's threat to not push through with the computer, Root decided to clean up her ac, and has now been cleaning her 'shit' up, as Shaw would say it (with a few lapses here and there, but no longer as bad as before). As a reward, Shaw gave her the computer room, which they christened as soon as all of Root's equipments were in place.

Sander, on the other hand, is growing up in to a bright kid. He's constantly learning new words, and he uses all of them to his mommies. Root has noticed that he has also started differentiating the way he calls her, sounding a lot like 'momma' instead of the way he says it when he's referring to Sameen without Root teaching him to, and Root couldn't be more happy with her son's progress.

He's turning 2 in a week, and Root and Shaw decided to throw a party with his other play date buddies (more like Root forced Shaw). The only bad thing about it is the fact that it entails mingling with parents, and Shaw hates mingling, which means it will be up to Root to entertain the guests.

They've been preparing since this morning as soon as the Machine gave Root the go ahead that She didn't need them some place else -- or, well, Root should have been until now, if she hasn't been spending her time bowled over the toilet puking her breakfast.

It's been going on for a week, and Root knows what it already means. She's showing all the signs, but she can't find it in herself to confide to Shaw for fear of her running away again.

She still remembers how Shaw looked when she handed over the stick to her almost 3 years ago; pale, like she's seen a ghost, like someone just stabbed her in the gut and ended her life. Root doesn't know if she'll be able to take it if she sees that look on Shaw's face again.

For all their time together, even though their relationship is so far off from how it started 4 years ago, never did they talk about having another child into the mix.

Sure, Sameen is the best partner Root could ever ask for in parenthood; an even better mother to Sander. It's because of Shaw that taking care of Sander is easier than it should be, but Root has no idea what Sameen thinks of having another baby.

They may be married -- Shaw may have proposed and married her -- but she still needs her space. She still needs to feel in control of her life once in a while, and Root only fears that the news will scare off Shaw.

But if Root is being honest, in those 5 months of marathon sex with Shaw coming inside of her all the time, it's a miracle they lasted this long without her getting knocked up.

Root wants to keep it of course, Shaw on the other hand...

"Root?"

Speaking of. Root immediately straightens up from her slumped position on the toilet, but the nausea hits as soon as she does, resulting to her puking again.

She hears the door open, and Root knows it's already too late.

Shaw doesn't say anything. The tension in the restroom thickens so much that Root forgets how awful she feels as she sits back on the wall and looks at Sameen, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Root doesn't know how long they stare there staring at each other. Root apprehensive and Shaw... Shaw's face is unreadable, but Root finds comfort in the fact that she didn't look like she was shot at centre mass -- and that she hasn't run... yet.

After a while, Shaw looks away, breathing in deeply before exhaling.

"How long?"

Root closes her eyes. "A week."

It's silent again, and the silence stretches on for far too long that Root's starting to think Shaw has already left her in there. She doesn't open her eyes because of that, scared that she has pushed Shaw away again. But Root's pleasantly surprised when she feels hands on her cheeks.

Slowly, Root opens her eyes, Shaw's intense dark eyes meeting hers.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Shaw whispers, and if Root thinks about it, she looks hurt.

"I--"

"You thought I was going to run away?" This time, there's no mistaking the hurt in her voice, and Root feels like an even bigger asshole.

"I'm sorry," Root mumbles, not sure what to say.

Shaw sighs, nodding to herself as if remembering the way she reacted the first time.

It's silent again, and Root's starting to feel like her tears are about to come out, looking away from Shaw just as she speaks.

"Let's do this."

Root's head snaps up so fast it's a miracle she doesn't get a whiplash, eyes wide in surprise and mouth agape.

Shaw shrugs. "I mean, how bad can it be? We're doing fine with Sander. Plus, I think he needs another friend other than those snobby babies in his play date."

What? What's happening?

Her mind is in a circus. It feels a lot like her mind is buffering, and her Root's mind never buffers.

"What?"

Shaw chuckles. "I said, let's do this, nerd."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Root, finally catching on, nods. "Okay."

"Okay," Shaw smirks, obviously amused with her baffled reaction.

"Wait, are you sure, Sameen? I don't want you to--"

"Root, remember my vow?" Root nods. "This is me choosing you now."

Root breathes out a laugh of disbelief, before it comes out as a full chuckle, the joy inside of her coming out in waves and she can't control them.

"I love you," Root says, can't control herself.

"Yeah?" Shaw stands up and drags her to the living room where they were originally planning Sander's birthday. "If you really do, then finish this whole goddamn party you wanted. It's giving me a headache."

Root chuckles, still staring in awe as she lets Shaw drag her to the living room.

Out of all the reactions she's been expecting, this isn't one of them, and Root sighs in relief as the weight she's been holding on for a week has finally come off.

never again

Chapter Summary

Short filler chapter.

Once again, thanks for all the love. <3 submit more prompts if you want to keep this story alive. I've only got a few left here (like two, I think).

"No. Absolutely not. I'll do it."

"Sweetie, the Machine assures me it's an easy job--plug, hack, unplug, leave."

"It's never as easy as it sounds with you."

"Sameen."

"Plug, hack, unplug, leave, you say? I can do that, too. Why can't I do it?"

"Let's be honest, Sam. You may know how to hack, but brute and guns are more your style. She says this one needs someone with exceptional hacking skills."

She's right in that one. It's not like you're a great hacker; you only know the basics. Hacking is more Root and Finch's style. Still, you don't like the idea of her going out in the field, especially now that you know she's pregnant.

It's been two days since you found her hunched over the toilet. A day since you've had her doctor's check-up confirming her pregnancy. You know you're being overprotective (and frankly, it makes you grimace), but you've always known trouble follows Root wherever she goes, and you can't have that in her state.

"Why can't Harold do it then?" you ask, determined to get her out of doing this stupid mission the robot overlord has her doing.

Root sighs, obviously trying to be patient. You've been trying to get her out of it since both of you woke up this morning from a call from the Machine. It's been an hour since.

"Sweetie, you know Harry can't defend himself."

Easy. "I can come with him."

"Shaw." Root's tone a bit chiding, scowling at you. "You don't like it when I coddle you. I'm pregnant, not an invalid. I can handle myself."

You know she can handle herself. You of all people know that about her. She may be an idiot sometimes, but Root is a goddamn great fighter. But you still don't want her to do the mission. If anything happens to her...

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You know there's no talking Root out of this; she's stubborn when it comes to the robot overlord, and it's making your head hurt.

"How sure is it that the mission is safe?"

"Are you talking about me, Sweetie?" a voice booms through the radio perched on the kitchen bar behind you, almost making you jump. A flash of irritation sparks within you.

"Jesus, does it have to talk like that?"

Root opens her mouth to reply, but the Machine cuts her off.

"I'm offended, Sameen. Actually, Root should be offended. Are you saying you don't like her voice?"

You can't believe this. Why does it have to have Root's goddamn sense of humour? It even sounds like Root when she's pouting, for God's sake. You're half-tempted to shoot the radio down, but you know the robot's just going to find another machine to hack.

Root chuckles sheepishly at the look on your face, addressing the Machine, "I don't think this is helping right now."

"Yeah, why don't you get to the point where you tell me it's safe for Root to be out there?" you snap.

The Machine tuts -- fucking tuts like a chiding mother -- and you almost lose your shit.

"I'm offended by your lack of trust, Sameen. I wouldn't want anything to happen to Root," the Machine supplies seriously this time, before adding, "Probability of Root succeeding even without your wonderful help is at 83.76%. Happy now?"

You sigh, exasperated. "That's 16.24% more trouble than I'd like."

"There's nothing to worry about. I have her back."

"Yeah, but can you shoot guns?" silence. "That's what I thought. I'm coming with her whether both of you like it or not."

Root sighs, throwing her hands up in exasperation before putting on her leather jacket, muttering under her breath in a way you know she's talking to the Machine in private.

You roll your eyes and leave the love birds to it, putting on your black hoodie and zipping it up before stuffing your USP compact at the waistband of your jeans and the Beretta Nano at your ankle. When you leave the bedroom, you see Root carrying a just woken up Sander in her arms, who's rubbing his eyes with his fists.

The sight is enough to make you stop and sigh. You'll never get tired of this. God, you're such a sap, you tell yourself, shaking your head as you make your way down to them.

Sander sees you from the corner of his eyes and lights up, fidgeting in Root's arms. He runs -- as much as he can run -- towards you as soon as Root puts him down, hugging your legs.

"Hi mama," he coos, sleepily smiling up at you that you can't help but smile back as you ruffle his hair. He really should get his hair cut soon.

"Hey, kid. You ready to go?"

He nods. "Bear come?"

You smirk at him before whistling for Bear, who comes bounding up from his bowl in the kitchen. Sander coos excitedly at Bear, seemingly more awake now.

You look up at Root, who's looking at you with an adoring smile. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, Sweetie."

-

After dropping off Bear and Sander in the subway with Harold, you and Root proceed 30 minutes out of China Town via motorcycle.

Both of you almost get into another argument because you wanted to drive and not because she's pregnant (you think, anyway), but after telling you off for coddling her, you acquiesced.

Now, after knocking out three guards to get inside a high security building that Root only vaguely explained belongs to a cyber security firm, you're walking in a stale basement on your way to the door at the end of the hallway.

"So what's next on our to-do list?" you ask under your breath, making sure to look around for threats. You find none.

"Breaking and entering," Root answers. Even without looking, you know she's sporting that goddamn smirk that gets you every time. "Kinda like our first date. You remember that, Sameen?"

You snort. Of course you remember. How could you forget?

You put your hand out for the lock pick set, and she hands them over to you immediately.

"I'd hardly call that a date. That was kidnapping," you tell her as you insert the first metal handle on the hole, before inserting the other.

She hums behind you just as the lock clicks. "Hmm, I think 10 hours of sex is called a date."

"Except it ended with me punching you in the face instead of a kiss," you quip in a whisper as both of you slowly enter the area, finding servers and servers of computer hardware. This is definitely Root's job.

"Did you want to kiss me that night, Sameen?" she asks, sounding like a giddy school girl.

"No." You roll your eyes, gesturing to the servers. "Get to work. We only have 10 minutes left before those guards wake up."

"I really like a woman who takes charge," she purrs into your ear, and you almost fuck her on the desk if you weren't pressed with time.

The room is small enough to ensure you that you and Root are the only two people there, so you spend the better part of her hacking around at the door, peaking through the blinders for threats.

"So," Root starts, and you roll your eyes, already knowing she's going to talk non-stop because multi-tasking is her forte. "If you wouldn't call our sex marathon our first date, then when was our first date?"

You're surprised to find that you're really thinking about it, because it isn't like you and Root went through the typical stages of dating. You sigh, humouring your wife.

"Probably the one where we stole a jet to Anchorage."

You hear Root humming behind you in thought with the tap-tap-tap-ing of the keyboard as she works.

"Fair enough. I still think our zip-ties and hood date is our first date."

You chuckle. "You kidnapped me, Root."

"Yes, and then we kissed and made-up, and even more," she purrs the last part, making you look back at her just in time for her to cast you a wink. You're just about to tell her she doesn't really know how to wink, when the glazed over look on her face stops you.

That only means one thing: trouble.

The whole room blacks out and the alarm blares through the whole building. The alarm stops as soon as it starts, Root typing faster than she did a while ago.

"We need to go," you tell her when you hear shouts coming from outside the room.

"The Machine gave us some time, but we're going to have company in a minute. I need 30 seconds."

That doesn't really make things better. "Faster, Root."

She plugs her USB out with an accomplished smile. "Alright, I'm done."

You make your way out of the basement through Root's instructions from the Machine, taking the emergency stairs two steps at a time and making sure to cover her body with yours as you move. You bypass the ground floor in favour of going off to the second floor, but you're cut off by men going in from both the ground floor and second floor.

You push Root back to the wall and corner her with your body, both of you shooting at kneecaps, guards falling one by one to their knees and down the stairs in a heap. When they're done, you resume your hike and bypass the second floor in favour of taking the third instead via the Machine's instructions.

"Stay behind me," you order just as you're about to open the door.

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere else, Sweetie."

You open the door to an empty hallway, gesturing for Root to come out.

"She says we're good to take the elevator. They're looking for us in the basement and on the ground floor," Root says, but as soon as you press the down button for the elevator, a shot rings out from behind you.

You look behind you to see Root's gun pointed to her right, a man groaning in pain at the far corner of the hallway. The manic smile on her face makes you chuckle in amusement just as the elevator dings open, both of you entering it, guns tucked in the waistband of your jeans.

"Having fun, Sweetie?" Root asks with a grin, and you can't help but grin in return. Her grin, however, doesn't last song and fades.

"What is it?" You ask, just as the elevator stops.

"10 hostiles. I'll guide you through them," the Machine speaks through the elevator's speakers, you and Root nodding.

"Ready whenever you are," Root breathes out with an excited smile on her face, hiding on the other side of the elevator across from you just as the elevator doors open.

"10 o'clock, 12 o'clock, 2 o'clock."

You and Root finish off the rest of the threats in record time with the help of the Machine. You're just about to walk out the front door when someone lunges into Root from the side, putting her down on the floor and knocking the wind out of her.

"Root!"

The sight makes you see red, yanking the guy out of her. With the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you're able to carry his 180-pound ass over your shoulder and to the floor, straddling him as soon as he's down. But he's trained and successfully pushes you over him.

You roll yourself over before you hit your head first on the floor, doing a kick-up from the floor as soon as you're on your back, standing with your arms ready in front of you.

He comes lunging at you with more force that he actually forgets about speed, allowing you to duck and kick him on his back, making him crash to the wall in front of him with a groan. He recovers quickly, wiping the blood on his nose, before lunging at you again.

His ducked head allows you to jump and place his head between your thighs, squeezing it, before bending backwards and flipping yourself, making sure to crash his head on the floor.

It doesn't knock him out though, and you roll your eyes because of course he has a hard head. But he's dazed enough from the hit that it allows you to punch him hard on the nose, knocking him out cold.

Panting, you get off of him and immediately make your way to Root, who's already leaning with her back against the wall, catching her breath.

"You okay, Root?"

She nods. "We have to go. She says there are more on their way."

You grab her right arm, ducking to wrap it around your shoulder, but she pushes you away, making you land on your ass.

"Sameen!"

You look up and see a gun pointed towards her, and you don't think twice. You stand up in record speed just as two shots ring off and feel a burn on your chest and on your hip, falling down with your back on the floor from the pressure.

"No!" you hear Root shout, and then a dull thud of another body dropping to the floor, before you see Root hovering over you with tears in her eyes. "Shaw, stay with me. I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Stay with me."

You try to stand up, but the pain only makes you groan and hiss, before you drop down on the floor.

"Just go, Root," you say through gritted teeth, already feeling dizzy from the amount of blood you're sure you're letting out. "You have to go."

"No, I'm not leaving you!"

Fucking stubborn idiot.

You look down at your chest and see a lot of blood oozing out of it. The hit on your hip was just a graze, so that's a good start. But the one on your chest... It must have only missed your heart by an inch.

"Listen, I'm going to pass out in 30 seconds. I have 15 minutes before I bleed out to death. So if you have an escape plan, now is the time to--ugh, fuck," you groan when Root places a bunched up shirt on your chest, pressing down hard to stop the bleeding. "That's good, keep doing that," you remark, your words starting to slur and your vision starting to blur.

"Sameen? Sameen, keep your eyes open for me, baby," you feel tapping on your cheek, but the feeling is starting to numb. "I'm going to get you out of here, okay? Just stay with me. John is on the way..."

The rest of her words blur as your vision finally blurs, and then you're out.

-

The weight resting on your right arm is the first thing you feel when you come to, before the heavy feeling of the left area of your body registers, specifically on your hip and chest area. You deduce you must have only finished surgery a couple of hours ago, and it's only a matter of time before the pain registers.

You open your eyes slowly, thankful that wherever you are -- must be a hospital from the stale white colouring of the walls and the ceiling -- the lights are closed. The only thing giving illumination at this point is the patient monitors showing your condition. The darkness allows your eyes to adjust right away, but they still feel heavy from the morphine that's probably hooked to you right now.

You try to move your arms, but the weight on your arm moves, until you look down and see Sander coming to.

"Hey, kid," you greet him, your voice hoarse from sleep.

He lights up and lifts himself up with his arms, but his hand lands on your chest.

"Ow!" you groan, hearing someone shift from the chair beside your bed. You know it's Root.

Sander whimpers, thinking he's in trouble, but you reassure him by kissing his forehead.

"It's fine, kid. Just not there, okay? It hurts."

"Owwie?" he asks, and then lifts his right leg, pointing to the healing wound on his knee that he got from running around too much. "Like dis?"

You chuckle. "Exactly like that."

Sander registers this with a nod, looking thoughtful and sleepy at the same time.

"Ok, mama?" Are you okay?

You smile. "Of course, kid. Mama's okay. You can sleep now."

With a satisfied smirk, he lays his head back down on your chest, burrowing his face on your neck as he settles in. You wrap your arm tighter around him as you rub his back soothingly to help him sleep, only then noticing that Root hasn't said a word.

You finally let your eyes wander over to her, feeling uncomfortable with the look that meets you.

She looks tired. And sad, you add, wondering what could've made Root sad.

"Well, that's new," you remark, and Root doesn't even blink or respond. You continue, "Usually I'm already hearing two innuendos from you. What gives?"

Silence. If anything, Root looks like she's about to cry. You try again, making sure to keep your tone light. You don't know what to do to cheer her up from whatever it is that's bothering her.

"Hey Eeyore, where's my perky psycho?"

Her lips wobble, and she sniffs, looking away from you. An uncomfortable twinge in your gut makes its appearance, and you can't help but think of the worst. Did something happen to...?

"Root? Is everything okay? Is--"

"Okay, Shaw? Is everything okay?" She snaps, her cold tone making you feel a pinch in your chest. "I just had to watch you go down again from two bullets, and you think everything is okay, Shaw?"

And then you remember. You close your eyes and sigh. Fuck. What happened earlier must have reminded her of the Stock Exchange, seeing you gunned down like that with two shots because you saved them, just like you got hit earlier from saving her. But you don't regret it. You'd rather it was you than her -- always.

"Root--"

"Do you know how it feels like watching that again? While I'm pregnant with your child, again, Shaw?" Root hisses, wiping stray tears from her cheeks angrily. It's a miracle she hasn't shouted at you yet from how angry she looks.

"Root, I--"

"No, Shaw. You don't get to do that anymore. You don't get to save me, or any one of us, and sacrifice yourself. You can't leave me again," she says, and then whispers in a sob, "I can't do this without you."

You know that, but you can't just let her get hit while you sit there on your ass and watch the whole damn thing. You can't.

"He was going to shoot you, Root."

"I was about to shoot him before you got in my way, Shaw!" she shouts this time, effectively waking Sander up who squirms when he feels the tension.

"Mama? Momma?"

"Shh, it's fine. Go back to sleep, son," you tell him, rubbing your hand up and down his back to sooth him.

You wait until he's fast asleep, before giving your attention back to Root.

"Root, if you're asking me not to save your ass when you're in trouble, then I can't do that. I... I can't let you die."

"But you can't leave me alone with our kids, too, Sameen. Do you understand? You can't leave us."

You sigh. You know she's right, but it's second nature for you to jump in front of your comrades in battle; to offer yourself if it's what it takes to complete the mission. And it's Root, for God's sake. She's not just anyone -- she's your fucking wife.

You nod. "Okay, Root. But I can't promise not to protect you, because it's not happening."

"Just don't do that again," she says with a stern voice, sniffing and wiping her tears away.

You nod, offering your hand to her. "C'mere."

She doesn't, petulantly pouting at you as she wipes her tears. You snort and roll your eyes, moving yourself to the left to give her space, making you groan from the pain that erupts on your left side.

"Stop moving."

"Come here," you pat the space beside you where Sander is sleeping, and Root finally follows, laying herself sideways gently, her chest to Sander's back.

She wraps her arm automatically around both of you, and you grab the hand on your waist, intertwining it with yours and squeezing it as you look at her wet eyes.

"I'm here, Root. I'm not leaving you. Never again."

Root smiles this time, lifting your intertwined hand to her lips and kissing the back of your hand, before placing it in the middle on Sander's back.

You smile at each other, before you feel your eyes drooping, until both of you fall asleep in the same position.

how to appease root 101

Chapter Summary

WHAT? YOU GET ANOTHER CHAPTER FOR THE DAY?

This chapter has a prompt in it from eeyore (I think it was from you, anyway) requesting for Root's Girl Scout uniform to make an appearance. And also a recent prompt from the majority of you -- HORMONAL ROOT, and the story follows how Shaw deals with it. It's going to be the first part of a series of hormonal Root chapters.

HAVE FUN! let me know what you think!

You cackle out loud as Root leaves the subway in a petulant huff with Sander in her arms, looking childish in that girl scout attire she's wearing with her attitude.

Seriously, can she blame you? Root is so determined to fit in with the babies in Sander's celebration later this afternoon that she decided to wear a costume. You didn't expect it to be a Girl Scout uniform. The fact that she has a rainbow badge on her sash makes it even more hilarious.

(Although, there's a small (huge) part of you that really, really appreciates the look. Root may look ridiculous, but she makes it work in a weird nerdy way.)

A throat clears while you continue chuckling as you prepare all the essentials for the number you're going to deal with.

"Uhm, Ms. Shaw?" Harold asks, making you look at him. He frowns. "May I suggest apologizing to Root?"

You snort. "You're kidding, right? It's Root. She can take a joke. She's just being a drama queen."

Fusco chuckles from beside you. "Good luck to you if that's what you think. I'm thinkin' you'll be sleeping on the couch for a week. What do you think, Wonderboy?"

"Try a month," Reese supplies with a smirk.

"Wanna put a bet on that?"

"50 bucks. Plus dinner."

"Deal."

Harold sighs and you roll your eyes as both detectives chuckle at your expense.

"I hardly think it's appropriate to bet on the Shaw's domestic issues, Detective Fusco and Mr. Reese."

"Just sayin', Shaw needs to apologize to Cocoa Puffs before she gets banished."

"Please," you snort. It's Root. It only takes your bedroom eyes before she gives in. "She's a drama queen. She's fine."

"Whatever you say, Maybelline. If I were you, I'd get ready with my apologies," Fusco supplies, tucking in his gun. "Pregnant women are hella sensitive with their emotions."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. Let's just finish the number," you grumble, waving him and Reese ahead of you to the exit of the subway.

-

You, Reese and Fusco easily deal with the threats to the number in record time, and finish up after 2 hours.

It's easy enough that it's a wonder to you why Harold requested the three of you to deal with it, but the company allows you to finish it just in time for your son's birthday, so you can't really complain. The only thing you can't deal with is Root's pettiness.

You've tried texting her in the middle of shooting bad guys, but she hasn't responded even once. The thing is, no matter what Root is doing, she always responds to you. The fact that she doesn't lets you know that her drama earlier wasn't an act.

You don't know whether to feel guilty or annoyed, but right now, it's more on the latter. It doesn't help that Fusco and Reese have been on your case about it since Root left the subway in a huff.

("What did I tell ya?" Fusco said when he noticed you checking your phone once or twice.

"Shut up or I'll shoot you."

And,

"You weren't there the first time, Shaw. She's doing this because she wants your affection. You should give it to her," John scolded you, which you scoffed at.

"Yeah? It's not my fault I was psychologically tortured for 9 months by a goddamn ASI."

You knew it was the wrong thing to say even before John narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at you, before looking away. Whatever.)

You get it, alright. It's not like you wanted to be gone the first time around. It's just... this is a new side of Root that you don't know how to deal with. And frankly, there's this childish part of you that's really finding this amusing. It's like you've gone full circle -- now Root's the one getting huffy while you get the last laugh when it has been the exact opposite for most of your relationship.

As soon as you arrived at the park for your son's birthday, and Root passed by you and completely ignored you in favour of greeting Fusco and Reese ("Hey, boys. Lionel, I have a lovely woman for you to meet," she said, passing by you without acknowledging your presence), you finally had an idea.

Now, dressed in a similar uniform as Root's -- except you're wearing trousers instead of a skirt -- you huff and look up at the camera.

"This better be worth it," you snipe, and the camera winks back at you as if it's a goddamn joke. "If this doesn't work, I'm going to unplug you myself."

"Promises, promises, Sweetie."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, before making your way back to the park.

-

Of course, as soon as you get there, the parents of the other babies congregate around you.

"Oh my god, that looks so cute. Did you and Samantha coordinate with each other?"

"Thank you for inviting us. My twins are having fun. Your wife is a killer host."

"And a killer cook, too! Seriously, you scored a jackpot with that one!"

They all speak in unison that you don't even get to say anything else, smiling tightly at them that your cheeks are starting to hurt from how forced it is.

You try to look around them for Root and see that she's reading a story to the kids with Sander seated on her lap. As if sensing you looking, she looks up and meets your eyes. As soon as she sees your situation, the mischief you see in her eyes is unmistakable, before she goes back to ignoring you. Great. Now you're forced to mingle.

"--and Samantha told us you're expecting! Congratulations!" exclaims Lara, all the other parents joining in to greet you.

Your eyes widen. Jesus Christ. Did Root just... You look back at her and see her chuckling sinisterly, and you glare at her. She knows you don't like it when people are up in your business, and you're pretty sure this is her way of getting back at you.

"Oh, yes, how can we forget that?" says her husband George. "Congratulations, Sam. Sander's amazing, I'm sure your second child will be, too."

"Thanks," you finally get to utter your first word to them, effectively stopping them from congratulating you over and over. "Uh, I have to go greet my wife and son, if you don't mind."

"Of course!"

"Thanks again for inviting us, Sam!"

You walk away and head straight to where Root is even before they finish, flipping the finger at Reese and Fusco who are having a laugh at your expense as you pass them by. Root excuses herself from Sander and the kids with a smirk and stands up to get refreshments, and you follow her.

You stand behind her, seething, and she looks at you once, before chuckling.

"Had a change of heart, Shaw? I thought I looked ridiculous," she quips with a pointed look at your uniform, her tone cold and distant. And Shaw, for God's sake.

You scoff, feeling more annoyed. "You do. We both do. Jesus, Root. Are you seriously mad at me for saying you look ridiculous?"

She scowls, but doesn't say anything back, ignoring you.

You roll your eyes. "Oh, come on, Root. Are you really going to ignore me because of this?"

Root walks away and plonks herself in one of the empty tables. You sit down beside her and watch her eat more than you're used to.

"Silent treatment, really?" you ask, and she shrugs, chewing and swallowing bite after bite. You sigh. "Sorry if I hurt you, okay? You really do look ridiculous--"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, cutting you off.

"But it doesn't change the fact that you look hot." That slows her eating down, and you know you're getting to her. "In a, you know... weird nerdy kind of way, like you always do."

Root looks at you this time, narrowing her eyes. "You're just saying that because you know you're sleeping on the couch."

You shake your head. You can't believe Fusco's right. "What do you mean I'm sleeping on the co--" you stop yourself before it gets worse, sighing. "Fine. I'll sleep on the couch if that's what you want. But I really meant what I said, Root. You're ridiculous and hot."

Root stops eating altogether, her eyes softening around the edges.

"And you're going to have to get my midnight cravings for me."

"Done."

"And you're going to have to cuddle me."

"Is that really--" you stop when she raises her eyebrows, making you groan. "Okay, Root. Midnight cravings and cuddle. Forgive me?" you ask, making sure to put your bedroom eyes.

She practically melts on the spot, before she chuckles sinisterly and the hard edge returns to her eyes.

"You're dreaming if you think it's that easy. You're sleeping on the couch for a week." She walks off, leaving you with your mouth gaping wide open as your eyes follow her until she sets herself down in front of the kids again and resumes her reading, smiling at them as if nothing happened.

Jesus, did Root just play you?

"Pay up, Wonderboy. Told you it's a week," Fusco's voice chimes beside you, and you look at him just as Reese pays him 50 bucks.

Damn it, Root.

-

When you're finally home and when you've finally put Sander to bed (you took responsibility of that; you didn't want Root to be on your case) and fed Bear, you watch Root from your position on the couch as she moves around the apartment before finally entering your room and closing the door behind her.

You can't imagine what it must have been like for her the first time around -- alone and confused, with only the boys to talk to. Even then, you're sure Root didn't open up as much to them. You're aware that out of all the people in your group, you're the person she feels most comfortable with. She trusts you, and Root rarely trusts and opens up at all.

The fact that she kept your son is a miracle on its own. Root is misanthropic; she finds comfort and fun in chaos, almost to the point of being psychotic. Even though she's mostly reformed from that trait of hers, you can only imagine what it must have been like for her to find out that she's pregnant -- and then you ignored her and you were gone.

The realization is enough to hit you hard.

Root never made you feel like an asshole for not being there the first time around; not once did she make you feel you weren't welcome in her and Sander's lives because of your absence. She never complained about being alone that time, but you know with the way she was affected by your incident last week, that it was hard for her, and you feel like you have to apologize for putting her through that.

And so even though you know she's going to get mad at you probably add more to your list of punishments -- you roll your eyes; you still think she's being quite petty, but you're pretty sure it's the hormones acting up -- you enter your room, and she immediately looks up from the book on her lap, her back against the headboard.

"You're on the couch," is the only thing she says, before looking back down on her book.

You sigh. "I know." You clear your throat. "I wanted to say I'm, uh, sorry I wasn't there the first time. I should have been there for you."

She looks up, shocked by the words coming out of your mouth, or something else entirely. You don't know, you can't read her tonight.

"Good night, Root. Let me know if you need anything," you smile, Root still staring back at you, before closing the door behind you and making your way to the couch, where you fall asleep immediately.

...and then, you wake up an hour later, feeling someone shaking you awake. You sit up immediately, "What?" you ask, blearily looking up to see Root, which puts you on alert right away. "Something wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Come to bed?"

Root grabs your hand and drags you to your room before you can answer, and you follow her lead, lying down on the bed behind her and letting her wrap your arm around her. You're still too shocked by the turn of events that you lie rigid behind her, preparing yourself for when she kicks you out of bed, but it doesn't come.

It's silent for a while, but you know from her breathing that she's awake, so you wait until she speaks.

She sighs, squeezing the arms wrapped around her. "Sorry about today. I don't know what came over me."

You squeeze her in lieu of a reply. You don't know what to say to that, and frankly, you're afraid that you might say something that might set her off again.

Root looks behind with apologetic eyes. "Stay with me?"

Those fucking eyes. Damn it.

"You're not playing me again, are you?" you ask, making sure to keep your tone light.

She shakes her head, seemingly sad about what she did to you earlier that you finally relent with a sigh.

You settle yourself comfortably behind her and burrow your head on her neck, kissing her there.

"Sleep, Root. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Good night, Sameen," she whispers back, kissing your hands before burying her back deeper into you.

The last thought you think about is finally, before realizing that you're going to have to learn how to deal with hormonal Root.

Shit.

Whatever, she's worth it.

mayonnaise

Chapter Summary

General prompt from almost everyone: weird cravings in the middle of the night + a prompt from guest Hot damn to have Shaw come in Root's mouth (very brief stint for those who don't like it).

Chapter Notes

Personally, I think the second one isn't the girls' cup of tea, but Root is hormonal and very horny, so let's just say her hormones are making her do things she doesn't normally do (and eat).

Would love to get more feedback from you guys! Thanks for the love <3

You groan, feeling Root shaking you awake for the... Jesus, you don't even know how many times she's done this in the middle of the night in the past 2 months.

"Sam." Her tone is pouty and needy, and you already know what she's asking for: food.

"Five minutes," you mumble, trying to settle yourself comfortably in bed to catch up on some much needed sleep.

She doesn't shake you or call your name out after that, and you take advantage of it. But just as soon as you're falling into the abyss of sleep, you feel her bury her face on your neck, her voice vibrating on your skin as she calls your name out again. The feeling only makes you sleepier.

"Sameen."

You hum, half-asleep, "five minutes, babe."

She says something you don't understand and the bed moves underneath you. You think she's getting up from the bed so you focus on sleep, but that's until you feel your boxers being pulled down.

You look down and find Root smirking, kneeling between your legs. Your sleep-filled brain doesn't register what's happening. Isn't Root supposed to be hungry?

"I really like it when you get the slip of the tongue and call me babe, Sameen."

What?

You don't understand her point -- don't even know what she's talking about -- until she strokes your length and the pleasure that erupts in your body is enough to wake you up, your cock hardening in no time.

"Jesus, Root. I thought you were hungry?" you groan, moaning when she licks the underside of your shaft.

She smirks, "I am." And then, she envelops the head of your cock in her mouth, the warmth of it making you buck your hips involuntarily.

"Fucking hell," you moan, her hand stroking the lower half while she bops her head up and down your shaft, all while looking at you with a salacious look on her face. It's enough to make you throb in her mouth. "Oh, god."

She releases your cock with a wet plop, licking the head of your cock, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

"Holy shit, Root." She swirls her tongue around the head in response, before enveloping you again, this time sucking you harder. "Fuck!" you moan, your stomach clenching and cock throbbing in response.

Root hums, the vibration only making all the blood rush down to your cock, sucking you with more force and speed that you can already feel your way around the edge.

"Slow down, I'm about to... shit!" you moan out loud when she stops on the head, before sucking and licking at the same time, your hips bucking up into her mouth just in time for her to take your length in, her head bopping up and down again, and you can already feel yourself exploding if she doesn't stop.

"I--shit, I'm coming. Fuck... Off, Root." You push her head, but she grabs your hands, all the more making you panic as you try to hold in your breath to stop from coming, but she only sucks you harder. "Oh, fuck," you moan as soon as your cock twitches, spurting jets and jets of come inside her mouth.

You sit up right away, pushing her head away and brushing the hair from her face successfully this time. "Shit, sorry, Root," you say between pants, knowing she doesn't like it when you come in her mouth. You hold out your hand in front of her, "here, spit it out."

Root only looks at your hand briefly, before looking back at you and making a show of swallowing. Oh, Jesus, that isn't supposed to turn you on, but it is.

Root smirks. "You really taste great, Sweetie, but now I need real food."

You stare at her, still at a loss in your post-orgasmic haze. Did that just happen? Were you dreaming?

"Sameen." She pouts, and it's enough to wake you up.

"Right, yes." You shake your head, pulling up your boxers before standing up and getting your jeans and hoodie from the floor. "What is it this time?"

"Honey garlic chicken wings and French fries. Oh, and I think I want some rice in it, too!" She exclaims giddily from the bed just as you finish tying your boots up.

"Sure, yeah," you reply, absent minded, walking to the door and out of the apartment.

It's only when you're standing outside the building that it registers to you that you don't even know what time it is. You feel around in your pocket for your phone, sighing in relief when you find it in one of your pockets. But the relief is short-lived when you pull it out to check the time and read that it's only 2:30am.

Damn it.

Honey garlic chicken wings and French fries? And rice? Where the hell do you go to at 2:30 in the morning to get those? And seriously, those two plus Root's beloved mayonnaise that she's started mixing in every food she eats?

You cringe. You love food more than anything else in the world, but Root's cravings make you want to swear off of it for the rest of your life.

Her cravings were mostly edible at first. And it wasn't so much craving as it was Root just eating more than she usually does. But after the first month, she's gone from ordering whatever you ordered, to eating what you ate -- leading to you making another order usually -- and mixing them with mayonnaise, to craving other worldly food and still mixing them with mayonnaise.

Last week, she craved beef oyster sauce with broccoli. It's a fairly normal meal, until she decided to mix in mayonnaise in it that for the first time ever, you couldn't stomach what was left in your plate.

Yesterday, it was garlic cream fettuccine pasta with shrimp. Another fairly normal meal, only she chose to bathe it in mayonnaise as soon as you got home from the restaurant. You were even thinking of getting a bite in, but after that, it was like you never wanted to eat at all.

You hate mayonnaise -- you can't believe Root and your second kid like it so much. Ugh. But you'll take hungry Root over petty Root any day though.

You've mostly learned how to deal with her being petty over the course of 2 months -- apparently it only takes you being sappy to get her to calm down -- but even then, she's a pain in the ass when she's petty. You don't know how many times you've wanted to punch her in the face for it; you would've, had it not been for your discovery that petty Root likes cuddles.

This whole pregnancy thing is making you soft that you've been craving to shoot someone. Or get into a fist fight with someone. You don't know; anything to get your adrenaline pumping again. It's a good thing the Machine seems to know you too much that it's been providing you with high-risk numbers.

Your phone buzzes with a message.

Turn right into the next alleyway.

You follow the Machine's instructions and find yourself looking at a group of wannabe gangsters trying to scare off a teenager in the middle. Speaking of the Machine knowing you too well.

"Seriously? You want me to do this now? Root will kill me if I take too long."

Save him.

You roll your eyes, already rolling up the sleeves of your jacket as you make your way to them. "Ugh, fine. But you better send me an address for her cravings."

Your phone buzzes once as if to acknowledge your message just as the group notices you.

"Hey, lookie here. Who brought the hoe?"

The wha--the hoe? You shake your head. You're going to remember this long-sleeved the mummy looking dude with the cap on. Fucking jackass.

"Let him go," you deadpan, the group cackling at your guts.

One of them approaches you with an arrogant gait, and you look up at him, already bored.

"You're hot, shorty, but you're going to have to skedaddle because this ain't your business."

"You're right, it isn't my business," you agree, the group nodding in approval. You smirk, "But that doesn't mean I can't have my fun once in a while."

All of them frown. "What?"

It only takes a minute and a half for you to bring down the lot of them, clapping your hands together as all of them groan in pain on the floor. Piece of fucking cake.

You look up and see the teenager looking at you in awe, making you roll your eyes. "Go home, kid. Next time, be careful with the people you talk to."

He nods frantically, before running away completely. Well, at least he wasn't offering to pay you with some non-sense about gratitude and shit.

Your phone buzzes with a message, reading an address in it. It's supposed to be good news, except it's all the way in Brooklyn.

"Seriously?" you groan, making your way out of the alleyway to hot wire a car.

-

"Thanks and, uh, sorry for this."

"Hey, it's no problem. Look, whoever you are, you did me a huge favour. I got a huge buck just for this. Thanks to you I can finally pay my kid's tuition," the chef thanks you profusely, and you nod at him, about to walk away when he stops you. "If you're ever in town, look up Joe's Wings. Imma serve you up some free meals for this."

"Sure," you nod, liking that offer and smiling. "Thanks."

You manage to make the 50-minute drive from Brooklyn into a 15-minute drive thanks to you breaking the laws, and arrive home at exactly 3:30 in the morning.

Shit.

You put down the bag of food on the dining table, before making your way to the room where you find Root fast asleep on the bed. As if feeling your presence, she stirs awake, sitting up and leaning her back on the headboard as she rubs her eyes.

"What took you so long?"

You sigh in relief. At least she doesn't sound mad.

"Robot overlord had me saving someone's ass," you grunt as you remove your hoodie and jeans, leaving you in your tank top and boxers, before lying down and making yourself comfortable on the bed.

Root, of course, straddles your hips as soon as you're comfortable.

"My knight in shining armour. How lucky can I get?" She purrs, kissing you all over your face, and you let her, before pushing her away gently.

"Yeah, well, your knight in shining armour and personal delivery service needs some sleep. Go. Eat your food."

You're trained to last 72 hours without sleep, even more. But even with your years in the service and in the ISA, taking care of pregnant Root is another story altogether. You feel drained to the core, like you haven't slept in a year, and all you want to do when she's occupied and you don't have a number to take care of is sleep -- even so much as foregoing eating altogether.

Root pouts, but pecks you one last time before sitting up with a bright smile on her face.

"Thank you, Sweetie."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You roll your eyes as she stands up from the bed and practically skips out of the room, before finally submitting to sleep.

good morning

Chapter Summary

Did someone say super horny Root?

Plus a specific prompt from alana_banana (and from several others, I think): Shaw appreciating Root's pregnant figure, making her horny.

A bit of fluff in the start, before we go to... well, steamier stuff. ;)

NSFW. Again, if G!P isn't your kink, just read until the half of the story. If it is, have fun!

"Mama!" is the first thing that registers in your conscious brain before you feel the bed bouncing under you.

When you open your eyes, you see none other than your son jumping happily on your bed, no doubt told by Root to wake you up. It's another late morning for you if that's the case.

Normally, you'd be protesting against this new body clock schedule. You've been so used to waking up early in the morning, and it only took a pregnant Root and Sander for that to change. But right now, you count your wins whenever you have them. And sleeping is winning at this point.

"Mama wakey!" Sander says over and over as he jumps on the bed -- or as much as he can, landing mostly on his knees before trying again -- and it's enough to pull a smile out of you. When he notices you looking, he jumps on his way to you before landing on you.

"Ooof," you grunt from the weight as he settles himself on your chest, face close to yours as he smirks.

"Gumonin mama."

You chuckle. He looks so proud of himself.

"Morning, son."

He grins and sits up on your stomach. "Wesling."

You chuckle again. Ever since you introduced wrestling to him, he's always wanted you to do the moves on him, especially when he knows you're not off to leave the apartment any time soon.

"Show me what you got," you taunt him, and then he starts throwing punches.

(You're very much proud to point out that he knows how to throw a good punch at his age.)

You block them with your hands, chuckling when he misses, but occasionally letting him hit you in the face. You act it all out, until he growls and you know it's supposed to be his special punch. When he hits you in the face, you pretend to be out. He chuckles, tapping your face with his hands.

"Again, again!"

"You asked for it."

You sit up from the bed, and he tries to get out of your reach, but you wrap your arms around his waist before he can escape, ending up with him chuckling and fidgeting in your arms.

"No, mama!"

You turn him around so that he's facing you, and put your palm on his chest, the other on his back for a choke slam.

"Game over," you growl playfully, smirking, before carrying him and slamming him down on the bed.

He acts it out, but the huge smile on his face betrays his acting, and soon he's laughing and opening his eyes.

"Again, mama!"

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, you bow him down, and he follows suit, knowing the move you're about to make. You grab his waist from his bowed position and lift him up until his legs are over your shoulder. You take advantage of the position to make farting noises on his stomach, making him squirm and chuckle again, before slamming him down on the bed just in time for Root to come in the bedroom, hair tied in a messy bun and clad in only a t-shirt that stops just below her panties.

The sight is enough to pull your attention away from your son, staring at her form by the door frame, and you can't help but think, damn.

Root is already starting to show 12 weeks in, and somehow, the swell of her stomach only makes her look better. You weren't there the first time, but you're glad you're here now to see this. She's fucking breathtaking even in her disgruntled state, and it turns you on.

"Nice. Again!" Sander exclaims, panting from the bed, grabbing your hand to get your attention.

"Sander," Root sighs, and it's a cross between amusement and exasperation. "I told you not to wake your mama up. Mama's tired, remember?"

Oh, so he wasn't told to wake you up. You don't mind though.

"Momma," he whimpers, pouting at Root, and the idiot softens right away and sighs.

"Come on, Sander. Time to clean your toys."

Sander pouts harder, making you chuckle. This is seriously Root's fault for teaching him how to do it.

"Hey, kid. You gotta learn how to clean up your stuff," you tell him from your kneeled position in front of him.

He crosses his arms, petulant. You almost get distracted by the fact that he looks like you when he does that.

"Tell you what, buddy, if you clean your stuff up, I'm going to make you lots and lots of pancakes."

He lights up immediately as he recognizes the word, sitting up, his wavy shaggy hair becoming messier in the process. "Pancakes?"

"Yeah, with the syrup and butter on it just the way you like it."

He doesn't need telling twice when it involves food, scrambling out of the bed and out of the room in record time.

Root chuckles and saunters to the bed, pushing you to your back as she sits astride your hips, your hands automatically finding purchase on her hips.

"You're spoiling him."

"'m not. It's been a long time," you argue, but Root only chuckles, shaking her head as she leans down to kiss you.

Her peck turns into a heated kiss when you kiss her with more fervour, sitting up in the process, your hands landing on her ass as she wraps her arms around your neck. She hums into the kiss, feeling her smile, until you can no longer kiss her from how big she's grinning.

"Sameen Shaw, a big softie, who would have thought?" she teases you, smirking.

"I'm not soft," you defend yourself, but don't really put your heart into it as you busy yourself nuzzling her neck and nipping at her pulse as you squeeze her ass, making her gasp.

You pull back to get a glimpse of the swell of her stomach, and the unexplainable rush in your chest returns. You can feel your cock twitching ever so slightly in your boxers.

Root covers her stomach, making you look up to see her frowning. "Don't look."

"What? Why not?" You frown, looking back down on her stomach. "It's hot."

"No, it isn't. I look fat."

You roll your eyes, bumping her nose with yours. She's in one of her petty moods again, as it seems.

"You're pregnant, Root. It's really going to swell," you tell her, grabbing her hands and moving them away from her stomach to give you back the view. "Damn."

"You're only saying that to make me feel better."

"Yes," you admit, her brows furrow further. You place her arms around your neck and pull her closer to you, both of you chest to chest, your lips a hair's breath away from hers. "But I mean it. You look hot."

This seems to work as she finally smirks at you, biting her lip.

"Yeah?"

"Uhuh," you hum, pulling her closer to you and bucking up your hips to let her know the effect she has on you, and she instantly lights up.

"Well, hello there," she purrs, attacking your lips, grinding her centre deliberately on your crotch as she does so.

You groan into her mouth as you return the kiss, guiding her grinds by pulling her in with her ass. The feeling of her warmth grinding on your shaft is enough to get you fully erected, making you buck up from underneath her in the process.

"God," She moans, pulling away slightly, but not stopping her grinds. "I like the way you feel against me. So hard and big for me." Oh, Jesus.

Your cock twitches in response, making Root smirk. You kiss her to erase the smug look on her face, the kiss turning heated as you enter her mouth with your tongue, pulling her into you and squeezing her ass with more force, making her grind faster on you.

"Oh, god, you feel so good," she moans when she pulls away from the kiss, and the sound is enough to turn you on even more as you can feel yourself oozing with pre-come.

You let your lips travel to her jaw and to her neck, kissing, licking, and nipping her at her sensitive spot, making her gasp and moan alternatively. You buck up into her in the process, making sure to time your upward thrusts with her forward grind to increase the friction for her. You're not disappointed when you're rewarded with a fucking pornographic moan.

"Oh, fuck, Shaw. Keep doing that, baby. I'm going to come," she moans, eyes closed, and you busy yourself kissing and nipping her wherever you can reach her. "Mmm... god, I'm close, so close," she gasps, grinding on you faster. You pull her in impossibly closer and make sure to hit her on her centre, before she freezes on top of you. "Oh, god!" she screams, and you wrap your arms tighter around her as she comes, feeling her come leaving wet patches on your boxers.

She halts her grind when her orgasm wears off. You pull back to kiss her, and she hums into your mouth in return, before pulling away slightly to give you a salacious smirk.

"You're so hard that you can make me come just like that. That's how much you feel good," she purrs into your ear.

Fucking hell. Your cock throbs, aching to be inside her.

"Jesus, Root. What's with the dirty talk?"

"Complaining?" She asks, kissing and biting your neck, making you groan.

"Fuck, no," you growl, pulling up her shirt and pushing her back to the bed in quick succession, making her gasp in surprise.

The exposed smooth pale skin in front of you makes your mouth water, more so when you realize that her breasts have gotten a little bigger. You pull her in by her thighs until your crotch is on her centre, making her moan at the contact.

"Sameen," she whimpers. "I need you."

You smirk, placing your hands on her breasts and kneading them, making her arch her back in pleasure. You lean down from your position between her thighs, enveloping her left nipple in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the bud, before sucking and biting it, letting it go with a wet plop.

"Oh, god."

You switch to her right, giving the same attention as you did with the former, while your other hand busies itself kneading with her left breast, pinching her nipple between your fingers. Her back arches further in response, her centre hitting your crotch as a result.

"Fuck, Sameen. Stop teasing," she says, making you smirk as you travel from her breasts to her stomach, kissing her bump, before licking your way to her navel and swirling your tongue around it. "Jesus, Shaw!" she gasps, arching her back. "Just fuck me already."

You chuckle and pull back as you hook your fingers on the waistband of her panties, pulling them down on her legs slowly. The view of her luscious dripping sex makes your cock twitch in your boxers, licking your lips at how delicious she looks.

As soon as you've removed her panties, you lie on your stomach, pulling her into you and hooking her legs over your shoulder, her pussy close to your face, the heady smell of her arousal making you groan in hunger.

You blow on her clit and it twitches in response, Root bucking her hips further to your face that it almost touches you.

"Touch me, Shaw. Eat me. God, I need you, please," she moans, and her desperation makes you relent, finally touching her on her clit, playing with the nub using your index and middle finger. "Fuck, yeah, more, Sameen."

"Jesus, you're so wet, Root," you groan, her arousal and come coating your fingers as you play with her labia.

"Mmm, so wet for you, baby," she moans in response, and it pushes you to finally dip your fingers in her entrance, making her hips buck up in the process. "Oh, god, yes!" she screams, eyes closed and fisting her head with one hand, the sheets with the other.

She looks so damn hot losing control like that, that you can't help but pound your fingers into her hard and fast, watching in close range as your fingers disappear in her.

"Oh, oh, oh, fuck me, mmm, fuck, yeah, so good, yes!" she moans in between thrusts. "Your tongue, Sameen." You don't think twice and swirl your tongue around her clit, making her arch her back. "Fuck, yes." You curl your fingers inside of her just as you envelop her clit with your mouth, sucking her harder and indulging in her taste, making her buck her hips further into your mouth. "Oh, fuck, yeah! I--I'm coming! I'm coming!"

You take her word for it and curl your fingers upward inside her as you pull out, feeling her freeze and then quiver as she comes, sucking and thrusting your fingers in and out to let her ride it out.

"Oh, fuck," she moans, shaking as yet another orgasm hits her, before finally stopping.

You pull your fingers out of her but continue sucking and licking her clit, before she pushes your head away when it gets too much, pulling you up to her. She grabs the fingers you used and sucks them, tasting herself on them, and the sight is almost enough to make you come. Goddamn.

Root is a naturally horny person, but this... this is a whole other level, and you feel the lust take over your body as the blood rushes down south.

You growl, pulling your fingers out of her mouth as you pull her in to you through her hips, making her gasp in your show of strength. You remove your tank top and pull down your boxers, kicking them off the bed, your dick bouncing up to your stomach as soon as it's released, making Root moan at the sight.

You smirk, stroking your dick in your hand as she looks at you, biting her lip.

"Fuck. I want you," she breathes, panting in arousal.

"What do you want, Root?" you ask, spreading her legs wider as you position yourself between her legs.

"I want to feel you. On me. In me."

You line your cock on her pussy, both of you moaning at the contact as you grind your shaft on her sex. She meets your grinds with the buck of her hips, coating your length in her arousal.

"You're so wet and ready for me, huh?" you say, teasing her as she whimpers underneath you.

"Please, Shaw."

You smirk. "Please what?"

"I want you inside me, pounding me with your--oh, god, yes!" you thrust into her and sheath yourself fully inside of her before she even finishes, her dirty talk only spurring you on.

"Fuck," you groan, her tight walls surrounding your cock pleasantly as you thrust in and out of her.

"God, yes, mmm!" she moans, clenching around your shaft, making you buck into her harder. "Oh, yeah, fuck me, Sameen. Fuck me with your big cock."

You can't even control yourself for what happens next.

You pull out of her to pull her closer, putting her legs up slightly before spreading them by keeping your legs on her thighs, making her wide open for you. You line up your cock to her opening through your hips, pushing the head of your cock in by sinking your hips downwards, making Root moan louder.

"Fuck!" she gasps at the new angle. You pull out again, before sinking into her deeper with more force. "Oh, god, you feel so full like this," she moans, gasping as you finally find a rhythm, thrusting in and out of her as you anchor yourself by holding her thighs wide. "God, yes, keep fucking me, I'm gonna come again!"

"Fuck! Me, too," you grunt in between thrusts, feeling all the blood building up in your cock with the new angle. You hump her faster and harder, and it doesn't take long before you feel her walls clenching tightly around your cock as she freezes.

"Sameen!" she screams, quivering as you bring her over the edge. You don't stop pounding into her until you feel yourself coming, jerking one last time into her as your cock twitches, spurting come after come inside of her.

The twitching of your cock and the minute your jerking hips send her into another orgasm, Root moaning and panting underneath you. You pull out of her as soon as you're both done, just in time for you to hear someone knocking outside the door and claws scratching the door.

"Mama? Mommma?" Sander yells, Bear whining along with him.

Root chuckles from her position on the bed, brushing your hair away as she looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a satisfied smile.

"I guess the boys are hungry already."

You huff a chuckle, leaning over her to peck her on her lips, before pulling away slightly, speaking on her lips, "Stay here. I'll take care of it," you whisper, pecking her one last time before sitting up and putting on your boxers and tank top.

Root's eyes are already closed even before you leave the room, making you chuckle and shake your head in amusement as you step out of the room, making sure to close the door behind you.

"Alright, boys. I heard you. It's eating time."

Bear's woof! and Sander's loud exclamation of approval meets your ears immediately, making you chuckle as you make your way to the kitchen.

Good morning, indeed.

lost and found

Chapter Summary

I forgot to mention in the last chapter that petty Root's "I look fat" was Anon's idea. So whoever you are, that was your idea.

This chapter has the ff prompts:

Root saving Shaw and going "I owed you one" (skimmonshoot), Sander getting lost in public (a lot of you suggested this; thanks Nicola for the reminder!) combined with Root and Shaw's number kidnapping Sander (badwolffgoddess). The vest that I mention here is also Anon's idea. Thanks, guys!

I tried my best with this one. I hope it pans out!

For what seems like the hundredth or thousandth time in your life, you and Root are trapped in a warehouse full of baddies, having been tasked by the Machine to take care of the New York chapter -- or whatever these idiots call themselves -- of the Gambino's drug business.

It isn't exactly a hard task; most of them don't even know how to shoot a gun properly. But it's only you and Root against more than 20 people, by your count, and it's proving to be a disadvantage for the both of you.

You duck down the barrel for cover to change the magazine of your gun, checking Root beside you, who's doing the same thing as bullets wheeze past your heads.

"You okay, Root?"

She grins. "Never better, Sweetie. We're so good at this together."

You snort at her overused line. "Yeah, say that when we're actually out of here."

"Oh, Sameen. Do you not know by now how prepared I always am?" She teases, retrieving a belt full of grenades -- your grenades -- from within her thick coat. "Brought in a few party favours. I like to keep you entertained."

"So that's why my grenades went missing. You took it!" you accuse her, but find yourself smiling in amusement anyway as you shake your head. Root and her surprises.

"Ms. Shaw? Root?" Finch's appalled voice comes through the speakers. "Did someone say grenades?"

Root shrugs, innocent. "She told me we might need it. I hope you don't mind."

"Is this absolutely necessary?" Finch inquires, sounding for all intents and purposes terrified -- like you and Root are about to burn down a hospital.

You roll your eyes, ignoring him. "Well, there's nothing I can do now, is there?" She chuckles. You gesture for the grenades. "Come on, give me some of that. It's time to end this."

"Ms. Shaw! I--"

You cut off the line, grabbing two grenades and releasing them from their pin, before looking at Root who's already grinning at you.

"On three," you tell her and she nods back. "One, two, three!"

As soon as you throw the grenades, you grab Root and make a run for the exit, making sure to put yourself in the line of fire as bullets follow you.

You grunt when you get tagged on your bicep just before you reach the door, ignoring the burning sensation that spreads on your bicep as you push Root to run faster, feeling her wanting to turn around to check on you.

"I'm fine. Keep running," you tell her between pants.

The bombs explode as soon as you're across the street, and you don't even think twice before you push Root down on the floor and cover her body with yours as several shards of glass and debris fly from the warehouse. Little rocks hit you on your back and shards of glass slice through your jacket but you soldier on, gritting your teeth when a rock hits you in the head.

When the worse is done, you stay there over Root, the ringing of the cars and the panting of your breaths the only thing you can hear.

"You think we got them?" Root asks after a while.

A shot rings from behind you and hits the pavement far from you and Root.

You pull back slightly, making sure to keep your body enveloped around Root as you make a quick assessment for injuries, pleased that you find not a single scratch on her. But as soon as you're done, you're surprised to find yourself pushed back to the floor, groaning at the feel of rocks and glass on your back, watching as Root stands up and wields her two guns with that glazed look on her eyes that you know means the Machine is talking to her.

You feel hot flush of anger run through you because of her recklessness. Not even her pregnancy can stop her from moving. Jesus, what an idiot.

"Root!" you yell, standing up and wielding your gun to assist her, but she shoots all of them down successfully.

"Are we done here?" Root asks in that special tone she uses for the robot overlord, before she nods. "Thank you."

You tuck the gun behind you right away and grab her elbow, dragging her two blocks before pushing her to an alley. You're aware that you're being rough, but you can't control your anger. The fact that she leans back on the wall and smirks at you mischievously only makes you angrier.

"Is this the part where you fuck me against the wall, Sameen?"

Pregnant and still a fucking idiot.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?"

She blinks, surprised at your outburst. "Stop what, Sweetie?"

"Stop doing that--risking your life!" You sputter, getting more and more furious with her carelessness. "Jesus, Root. You're pregnant!"

"I'm fine. That's why you made me wear this CMF vest. Even if I get hit, I'll be fine. I had the Machine's back. Plus, I owed you one from last time." She shrugs as if it's nothing.

Owed you one from last time? Unbelievable.

"That doesn't mean you should be an idiot. You're not invincible with that vest and even with the Machine in your ear."

She smirks. "No, but I feel invincible when I'm with you."

Oh, for God's sake.

You throw your hands up in exasperation, shaking your head and turning around, choosing to walk away.

"You know what? Whatever. Let's just go and pick up Sander from play school."

"Sameen."

Oh, now she actually sounds apologetic and serious? You huff, ignoring her.

"Shaw, we can't pick him up."

You turn around, incredulous.

"Why the hell not?"

She rolls her eyes, doting smile on her face. "Sweetie, we're both covered in dust. And you can't show yourself to him with that." She points towards the forgotten gunshot wound on your bicep, which at the reminder, suddenly aches in pain.

You put your left hand on it -- good thing it's just a graze -- to stop the bleeding as Root grabs your right hand, leading you out of there.

"Come on. I'll patch you up and get food on the way."

Well, you can't exactly argue with that. You'll just have to scold her again later.

-

Something's wrong.

You've been getting the feeling that someone is following you ever since you got Sander from his play school, and your gut is never wrong.

He isn't an amateur, but he isn't exactly a pro either if your spider senses are tingling. Still, you try to keep your cool as you and your family make your way to the ice cream stand near Central Park for Sander, while discretely looking around and checking for threats.

"What do you like, Sweetie?"

"What?" you ask, the question pulling you out of your daze, only now realizing that you're already at the ice cream stand.

Root frowns, equal parts amused and confused. "Are you okay? You've been quiet."

You shake your head. "It's nothing. Just get whatever you want. I'm not hungry."

You are, but you're not exactly in the mood for ice cream today.

"Are you sure?" Root raises her eyebrows, grabbing Sander's collar to stop him from running off, and you nod in return. She shrugs. "Okay. Find us somewhere to sit, would you, baby?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name. How many times do you have to tell her not to use that in public? You're no baby.

You trudge grumpily on your way to the nearest bench, making sure to sit on it horizontally to avoid strangers sitting beside you.

It doesn't take long for Root to follow you with what looks like a banana sundae. It should be a welcome sight, only there's a missing little kid beside her.

A bad feeling settles in your gut.

"Where's Sander?"

Both of you ask at the same time, frowning, and then you see the moment Root panics.

"I thought he was with you. I saw you grab his shirt," you reason, already standing up and looking around the park.

"Well, no. I thought he followed you," she replies, her voice already shaky from the panic.

You walk to the ice cream stand, Root dutifully following behind you, looking around for a shaggy haired two-year old, but you find none.

"He couldn't have gotten far," Root says.

She's right... unless someone got to him.

"Can't you ask the Machine where he is?"

Root pauses and then shakes her head, tears in her eyes. "She says She can't see him."

The uncomfortable twinge that settles in your gut spreads like wildfire, your chest burning with something you can't explain. Panic, maybe? Shit.

You should've grabbed him before you walked off. This only means whoever it is that's been following you has Sander. It's a good thing you've made it a habit to place a tracker on your son.

You pull out your phone, ready to track him when Root's wet sniffles distract you.

"Root?" you ask, and she looks back at you with apologetic eyes.

"This is my fault. I shouldn't have let him go. Now he's lost and the Machine can't even see him and--"

You grab her shoulders and shake her to cut her off, which leads to her sobbing. The unpleasant feeling in your chest expands at the sight. Root looks so distraught, and you hate it.

"Root, we'll find him, okay? We will. Whatever it takes," you reassure her, knowing it's the hormones making her more emotional than she would be if she wasn't pregnant.

She swallows, trying to get her bearings. "I can't lose him, Sameen. I can't lose our baby boy."

You feel the same way. Your kid is your world, and the thought of losing him is only injecting feelings you can't understand except for one: anger.

Whoever that son of a bitch is, he's not coming out of this alive.

"You won't, Root. I won't let that happen, okay?" You lift her chin when her lips continue to wobble, making her look up to you with tear-streaked eyes.

You don't know what to say to make her feel better because you know what you feel is nothing compared to what she's feeling. It's one of those moments that make you hate the fact that you have a personality disorder. You really wish you can reach out to her emotionally, but you can't. So you do it the only way you know how with meaning.

You kiss her lips and linger there, telling her in no words that you're here, before pulling away and kissing her forehead, grabbing her hand and leading her to Sander's pinged location.

-

It turns out the pinged location you follow Sander to is one of the Gambino's listed warehouses near Central Park. Root seems to catch on to this when she realizes where you're leading her, a look of recognition in her eyes before it's replaced by a determined, unforgiving look.

You smirk. Now that's more like it.

After checking your surroundings for threats, you enter the warehouse; finding it empty, save for a bald man standing in the middle and your kid poorly tied to a chair in front of him, crying silent tears.

The sight only makes you see red, and you don't waste time hiding your presence, stepping out of the dark and into the middle with them, stopping a few feet away from them. Your son lights up as soon as he sees you.

"Dada!"

The bald man looks up, and you recognize him as the Gambino's heir. Marcos Gambino. Oh, so this is payback for what you did earlier.

He smirks, sheathing a newly sharpened knife from its cover, turning it around.

"I hope you don't mind. You took something from my family, I took something of yours," he says, his hand lifting up to grab Sander's head. You tense.

"Don't you dare touch him," you growl, and he chuckles mischievously, dropping his hand.

"Oh, she bites," he snipes sarcastically, before frowning playfully. "I was kind of hoping to make this a family affair. Where's the wife?" He asks, and it's only then you realize that you can't feel Root's presence behind you.

You're pretty sure she's trying to get a different angle to hit this idiot. He came alone, that was his second mistake; kidnapping your son was his first.

"Whatever. You'll do." He kneels down behind Sander, bringing the knife to your son's neck, Sander whimpering in response, looking at you with wide tear-streaked eyes. "Any last words?"

Just then, Root lets her presence known to you, positioned at the second level overlooking the middle, well hidden from Marcos' view.

You decide to play it his way, kneeling down to make yourself eye-level with Sander.

"Hey, Sander. Guess what you're going to have for dinner?" You ask in your natural deadpan.

"What?" He asks, sniffing back tears, but he isn't wailing. Good boy. You're glad he takes after you in that department.

Marcos snorts at your attempt at casualty, and you ignore him.

"Pancakes, kid. You're going to have pancakes. And ice cream." They're his absolute favourites. You don't even care if you're spoiling him at this point.

"Pancakes? Ice kweem?" He asks, drooling at the thought of food. He really is your son.

You chuckle. "Yeah. And guess what else?" He starts calming down, your distraction working. "You can sleep with momma and dada tonight. You like that, right?"

"Yeah! And Bear!" He exclaims.

"And Bear." You nod. "Do you know what to do for that to happen?"

He shakes his head no, and you look up and see Root with both guns pointed at Marcos' head; the angle is perfect that Sander will not get hit at any cost.

You smirk. "All you have to do is close your eyes for me, son. Can you do that for me?"

He nods, closing his eyes right away, just as Root's shots ring through the warehouse, Marcos falling down on the floor in a bloody heap.

"Dada?" Sander yells, shaking and closing his eyes tighter than he did after the gunshots.

You run to him right away and cut him loose from the ropes. The close range allowing you to see a bruise forming on his right eye, but other than that, he's fine. Good.

When the rope loosens, Sander opens his eyes and immediately wraps his arms around your neck, only then allowing himself to cry.

"Good boy, Sander. You're safe now. I'm here, kid." You hug him tighter to you and rub your hands on his back to sooth him, feeling yourself relaxing at the lack of threat to your son.

He continues to sob in your arms and you allow him to, knowing this is better than a delayed reaction from him and a possible trip to see a shrink, which you really don't want for your son. You (and Root, you assume) have had enough of that when you were younger.

Root appears, looking all emotional and sappy, and you almost roll your eyes if you hadn't been panicking yourself.

You pull away from Sander and turn him around. Even from behind, you see his shoulders loosen up when he sees Root.

"Momma!" He yells, running towards Root who picks him up easily and wraps her arms around him, both of them sobbing against each other.

"My baby boy," Root breathes, and you can't help the little tug on your lips at the sight.

Sander mumbles something akin to that of an apology, and it only makes Root more emotional. The air thickens around for you, and you decide that's enough emotions for you for the day, and leave them to it for some air and call Fusco.

He answers on the third ring.

"Detective Fusco," he grouches.

"I have a present for you. I'll send you the location."

"Great. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. Don't think I don't know about that warehouse you and Cocoa Puffs blew up a while ago. You know I can file a multiple homicide case against you two for this, right?"

You chuckle. "Cheer up, Lionel. I'm just making your day job fun for you."

"Yeah, well it ain't fun!" He retorts before hanging up.

You turn around, chuckling at Fusco's bed side manner as Root comes out with a calmed down Sander. You move to pick him up from her to lessen the load, but she shakes her head.

"Let's go home?" You ask instead.

Root nods, still looking sullen from the events. You don't hesitate to wrap your arm around her waist, leading your family back home.

-

Fusco rings you just as the three of you have finished preparing for bed, and you already know it's going to be an amusing conversation.

"What's with the killing spree, Winter Soldier? The eye in the sky made you do this or what?"

You wish. You're pretty sure Root and the Machine had an argument earlier about her choice to kill Marcos. You don't know how that conversation ended, but Root doesn't seem like she's in a bad mood, so you assume that they've settled things.

"Guy kidnapped my son, Lionel. What did you want me to do?" you deadpan.

"Jesus. No wonder," he breathes, sounding relieved. "Little guy doing alright?"

You shrug, looking back to the bed where Sander and Root are laughing at something in Sander's book. "He's fine. He's a tough kid."

"Good thing he takes after you, huh?" he says, huffing. "This doesn't mean I'm gonna let you off the hook. I know I said I'm a genius, but story telling takes time."

You chuckle. "Running out of ideas already, Lionel?"

"Hey! You think this is funny? Why don't we switch places?" he grouches, and you roll your eyes.

"Relax. Hand it over to Reese?"

"Yeah, like Wonderboy even knows how to file a report," he scoffs. "Seriously, you weirdoes are going to be the death of me. I should've arrested the lot of you a long time ago."

You snort. "You say that all the time but you never do it. Admit it, Lionel. You like us."

"Whatever. I have to go because someone didn't tell me that I was going to pull a late night tonight," he grumbles before hanging up, ending up with you chuckling.

You place your phone back on the nightstand before lying down on the bed, Root looking at you over Sander's head. You nod to tell her everything's okay, and she smiles, resuming her story telling time with Sander.

You make yourself comfortable, wrapping your arm around the both of them with your hand on Root's stomach, letting Root's hushed voice and Sander's chuckles lull you to sleep.

thick as thieves

Chapter Summary

Did someone say Jealous Root?

Chapter is a combination of prompts from people who want to see a certain someone come back (three guesses who, but you won't need them) and Jealous Root. Angst ahead (I think).

The doorbell ringing through the apartment wakes you up from your afternoon nap with Sander, making you groan and stretch your limbs in bed. Opening your eyes, you look at Sander who's still fast asleep beside you, before carefully standing up from bed without jostling him and making your way to the door, your muscles cracking as you stretch them.

You get the gun from the coffee table just in case, before unlocking the door. Gun at the ready, you open the door slowly, before looking outside to see an unexpected visitor who you haven't seen in three years.

You can't help the chuckle that escapes your lips at the sight of your visitor who still wears the same perfume and the same charismatic smile, but now with slightly longer hair and bigger body, and an even tanner skin. He's still attractive.

"Tomas," you say in greeting as you open the door wider, putting the gun away, and his smile only widens.

"I wasn't sure where to find you, so I thought I'd check this place out. You look even better than the last time I saw you," he says in his usual charm that you almost fell for the last time.

You roll your eyes. That's because you're in much fewer clothes the last time you saw each other -- now only clad in a tank top and your boy shorts. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You're not even going to invite me in?" He asks with a cheeky smirk, and you roll your eyes, gesturing for him to come in before closing the door behind him. He looks around the area, nodding as he takes full stock of the fact that the place is obviously inhabited in. "So you live here now?"

You ignore the question, curiosity getting the best of you. "Your score in Barcelona didn't work out for you?"

"The score was alright. I quit after that. Bought a yacht, travelled the world..." He takes a seat on the couch, pretty much where he sat the first time around, and leans back in a relaxed position.

You take your seat on the couch across from him, raising your eyebrows. "And I assume the reason you're here now is because you're bored of that and you have another score you want me to join in."

Tomas chuckles. "Maybe I just wanted to check up on you."

"Please," you snort. "Pretty sure you have a lot of women to check up on if you've been travelling on a yacht."

"That's true, but maybe you're my favourite."

"Bullshit," you call him out on it, and he chuckles heartily in return.

"But seriously, you should have come with me. You would've been richer. Plus, we could've been a great team... in more ways than one."

Jesus, it's like talking to Root with all the come-ons, except they're all actually respectable whereas Root's is overt to the point of harassment sometimes.

(You don't mind Root's come-ons though. In your time with Samaritan, you've found that her overt come-ons have been comforting. You think it's one of the reasons why she became your place of refuge.)

You chuckle. "I told you--"

"That you had things you cared about here, I remember. And now I think I know why," he says cryptically, looking upwards to his right.

You follow his line of sight and see Sander standing at the banister just outside the door to your bedroom, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. You can't fight the little tug on your lips at the sight of your son. He's growing up to be a really handsome kid.

"Come here, kid," you gesture, setting the gun back down under the coffee table, and he immediately follows, sleepily making his way to you before sitting beside you, leaning his weight on you and you let him, wrapping your arm around his body.

"You didn't tell me you had a kid," Tomas says, smiling at Sander.

"Didn't have him at the time, but--"

The door clicks and opens before you can continue, announcing Root's arrival.

"Honey, I'm ho--oh." Root's customary greeting stops when she catches sight of your visitor. The look of recognition in her eyes is unmistakable when Tomas turns around to look at her, before something else replaces it. Something you can't read. "I didn't know we were going to have a visitor." Her tone isn't exactly helpful either.

Sander lights up beside you, immediately running towards Root. Root picks him up easily from the floor with a grunt, her eyes softening by a fraction as she looks at Sander, having a hushed conversation with him.

You watch Tomas watch all of this happen, before he turns back to you with a smile on his face. "If this is the reason why you didn't leave with me, then I totally understand now."

You chuckle, but you can see Root freezing at the corner of your eyes at the reminder of your almost hook-up with the man in front of you. You look up at her just as she drops Sander, who goes to his bedroom, before putting on a smile -- a strained smile that you need to get to the bottom of -- as she makes her way to him.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Root," she says, extending a hand over to Tomas, who shakes it before pulling away.

"Tomas. I was just catching up with Nadya."

"Shaw. Nadya's an alias," you tell him, before snorting. "And you can tell her shit. She knows I saved your ass last time." And what a damn fine ass it still is.

Tomas raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You save people, too?"

Root shrugs, a bit too smug. "What can I say? It's a family affair. Right, Sweetie?"

You roll your eyes at her cheesiness, shaking your head.

"Then you won't mind if I invite Shaw here to a heist?"

You practically see Root freeze in front of you, before she covers it up with a smile.

The way Root can effortlessly change her appearance still amazes you. It's really no wonder she's survived decades without being caught. But right now, you're worried about her reactions. Surely, she's moved past the fact that you liked Tomas? And it's not like something happened between you two. Right?

"Do you need a hand?" Root smirks, but even if she comes off smug and confident, you know her enough to know that it's strained and that something is wrong, and the fact that you can't do anything about it now frustrates you.

"I'd love to see you in action, but this one requires a lot of physical exertion for a pregnant woman." He turns to you, smiling. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," Root answers politely. "When do you go?"

"Well, these things are much more fun to do at night. Aren't they, Shaw?" He looks back at you with a smirk, but your eyes are focused on Root.

"Oh." Root physically deflates this time, frown on her face, before she settles for a shrug. "It's up to Sameen."

You look at her, trying to get a read of her, but you can't. You sigh, scratching your head. "Can you, uh, leave us two for a while?"

"I'll be outside."

Tomas leaves the apartment without hesitation, and when the door closes behind him, the tension inside the room thickens.

You stand up, approaching her cautiously, but she moves away and makes her way to the bedroom. You follow her.

"Root?"

"You can go," is the only thing she says, her tone distant as she sets all of her things down and removes her leather jacket.

You know it's not fine.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she answers too quickly as she changes into an oversized shirt of yours and shorts.

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to lie to me, Root. I can always say no."

"I'll be fine here with Sander. And I have the Machine if ever I crave for something. Just go, I know you want to."

The answer only annoys you because you know she's forcing herself to agree to it even when you know she doesn't want you to go.

"Root."

"What? I said you can go, Shaw," she snaps, before sighing as she puts on her glasses. You almost get distracted with how beautiful she is, but shake your head.

"You still don't trust me, do you?"

She looks up sharply at that. "What do you mean? I'm pregnant with your second child. I trust you with my life. Isn't that obvious?"

"No, but you don't trust me not to fuck around, right?" you retort, feeling anger and a pang in your chest that feels a lot like pain, but you ignore it.

"What are you talking about? I--"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're jealous," you snap.

"Can you blame me?" She snaps back, and you almost reel back from surprise. "You almost left with him, Shaw. What am I supposed to think now that he's back?"

That does it for you. The fact that she can't trust you to stay faithful to her, even when monogamy and this whole domestic shit aren't your thing, is really hurting you. There, you said it. It hurts.

"Fuck you, Root."

You rush to your cabinet and pull out a clean hoodie and black jeans, putting them on before getting your boots to tie them in. You try. You fucking try everyday and you get this.

"See? Look at this. You're going! Just one word from him and he reels you back in. Jesus, Shaw."

You stop, looking up at her sharply at the accusation, and you don't even do anything about the tears suddenly pooling in your eyes.

"I try everyday, Root. This domestic shit isn't even my thing, but I'm here every fucking day, aren't I?" you say, getting the gun from your bottom drawer before tucking it at the waistband of your jeans. "I take care of Sander. I married you. Jesus, I'm expecting another child with you, Root, and I'm still here. What else do you want from me?"

That silences her, her mouth opening and closing in shock at your outburst. You take full advantage of it.

"Shaw--"

"And you still think I'm going to leave and fuck off with Tomas when I get the chance. Unbelievable." You realize you're panting from anger, and you sigh, trying to calm down, wiping the unshed tears in your eyes. Damn it. "I know I don't feel as much as you do, Root, but fucking hell, I thought I was enough for you?"

Tears fall down her cheeks and you walk off, feeling suffocated from all the word vomit and the emotions you're feeling, wanting to get away and just go and do your business with Tomas.

Root follows you, hot in your heels. "Shaw, I'm sorry. Can we talk about this?"

You ignore her, stopping when you trip over your shoelaces, bending down and tying them, hearing Root sob behind you, before finally reaching for the door knob.

"Please don't leave."

It's said in a whisper that you almost don't hear it, but you're too suffocated to stay.

"Don't wait up for me," you say instead, before opening the door, ignoring her cries behind you as you leave.

-

You don't go home even after you've successfully done your heist with Tomas.

He seems to have caught on to the fact that you and Root aren't on good terms and has offered you to stay over at his hotel, this time without malice and ulterior motives, and you accept it.

For the first time since you married Root, you feel the need to be away from her that you can't even stomach going home yet. The thought alone is enough to suffocate you, and you hate that you're feeling this way again.

You don't go home for two days, and for those two days, Tomas entertains you with as much action as he can -- jewellery heist, simple car theft, anything to keep your blood going. But even the things that make your blood sing aren't working to distract you, and he finally calls you out on it on the third day.

"Go home to your wife, Shaw."

At the same time as he says this, your phone buzzes with new messages from Root that melt the ice in you.

I'm sorry.

Please come home.

Sander has been looking for you.

I miss you.

So you do after saying goodbye to Tomas with him promising to pay you your half of your share from all your activities. And besides, you've been wearing the same clothes for three days -- you need a change of clothes and a much needed shower. And you really need to go back home to your wife.

As soon as you open the door to your apartment, the first thing you hear is your son's voice.

"Mama!" he comes running to you and you crouch down as he barrels into your arms. You hug him to you, only realizing then how much you've missed him in your time away. He pulls back after a while, frowning. "Momma sad."

And that's when you hear it. The sobs coming from your room. Shit.

"Go to your room, son. I'll be with you in a while, alright?" He looks sceptical, as if you'll leave him any time soon and you feel angry at yourself for making him feel this way. "Sorry I left."

That seems to do it as he nods, walking back to his room as you walk to yours. You open the door slowly so as not to jostle Root and you see her lying on your side of the bed, facing away from the door as she hugs herself, crying.

The sight is enough to melt all the anger away as you sigh and push yourself off the doorframe, taking off your boots on the way before lying down behind her and wrapping your arms around her.

She freezes, looking at you with tear-streaked eyes, before wiping them away.

"I--I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming home."

The fact that she puts your discomfort at anything emotional first is enough to make you feel guilty, wrapping your arms around her tighter, feeling for her baby bump, trying to extend your apologies to your kid.

"Sorry, Root."

She turns around in your arms, shaking her head as her hands fly to your cheeks as she looks at you. "I'm sorry you felt like you weren't enough. I didn't mean to hurt you. You've always been enough for me, Sameen."

You turn your face to kiss her palm, wiping away the tears in her face, and it calms her down significantly, sniffing back her tears.

"That night after I rejected him..." you start, clearing your throat. You need to tell her this. You need to let her know. "I... I wanted you to stay, but you left before I could tell you to."

She chuckles wetly, sniffing back her snot and tears. "I remember."

You smile, glad that she's at least laughing. "The only reason why I considered his offer was because he was safe and you weren't. He was safe because I knew it was only going to be fun. You..." you stop, gathering your words. "You weren't. You made me feel things I never felt, and that was too much for me."

"I thought you hated me."

"I hated the fact that you made me feel, but I didn't hate you, Root." You chuckle suddenly. "But you were really annoying. You still are."

She chuckles back. "I couldn't help myself around you."

"Obviously," you snort and roll your eyes, before frowning. "I didn't imagine my life to turn out like this. I always thought I'd spend it alone, die alone somewhere with no one knowing my name. And then here I am, with you, Sander, and, uh, you know, our little kid in here." You touch her stomach, and she intertwines her hand on top of yours. "And uh, sometimes it's still surreal, you know? But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Her lips wobble again, and you know she's seconds away from bursting into tears.

"Stop making this weird, Root," you jest, and she sobs.

"But you keep saying nice things and I can't help it."

You chuckle, wiping away her tears before leaning in to kiss her. "Sorry I left."

She shakes her head, sniffing back her tears. "You're home now, that's all that matters."

You smile, leaning in to kiss her, and you're even happier now that she's returning the kiss.

You seriously don't deserve her.

first kick

Chapter Summary

This chapter is a prompt from Just A Suggestion which I won't specify because it's really long. lol. It's combined with Yves' prompt who wanted to have Root sharing her past with Shaw (which is also part of the original prompt), and cheeseblock446's prompt of Sander not liking his hair cut.

It's short and the chapter switches from Shaw's POV to Root's POV, but I hope I meet your expectations in this one. Thanks, guys!

"What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?"

You can't help but overhear the overly used idiotic line as you assess the Dan Wesson Valkyrie in your hands, testing the grip and the weight of the 1911. You look over at the poor woman being bothered by the gang of three men at your far left, and see that she's holding off fine and actually ignoring them. Good.

"You can have a test run of that inside if you like, free of charge," the old store clerk says from the other side of the counter. "I usually don't charge when people from the Armed Forces come in here. Thank you for your service, by the way."

You haven't been in the Marines since the ISA declared you dead, but it's still pretty cool for you whenever you come across free admissions because of your service. You of all people wouldn't pass out on a free opportunity to try some of these new babies.

"Maybe later," you tell him, pleased with the grip of the Dan Wesson in your hands. But there's something else you still want to test. "Can you hand me the Kimber Desert Warrior?"

"Ah, of course." The store clerk rummages through the sliding glass doors, before retrieving the Kimber inside delicately, and you can't help but swoon at the beauty of it as he hands you the gun. Damn.

"Now this is a real baby. I think you'll like this one. It has a low light tactical advantage; the sight glows in the night..."

The rest of his words become white noise when you realize the idiots to your far left are still bothering the woman, if not more than they did a while ago.

"Come on. We promise we don't bite," you hear idiot number one offer.

"Yeah, it'd be a nice way to test our guns." Idiot number two.

"And maybe other things if you like, we can make a day of it," idiot number three suggestively adds, making you roll your eyes.

You see the woman sigh from your peripheral vision. "I'm really not interested."

"Damn, girl. You a lesbian or something? It's no wonder you're in here alone," idiot number one snaps, and this time, you look to your left to see the woman getting more and more distressed with their advances.

"...and it's already threaded for suppression. It's a complete package, if you ask me. And a Marine like yourself could sure take advantage of the sights in this one," the store clerk finishes his tirade of the Kimber.

You turn back to him with as much of a smile you can muster. "Thanks, uh, can you wait a sec?"

He smiles. "Sure, feel free to have a look around."

You don't waste your time moving towards the woman. Intervening in someone else's business isn't something you normally do, ever, but you don't have a tolerance to anyone -- especially men -- who can't take no as an answer.

"Is there a problem here?" You ask, catching the attention of the idiots and the woman, who as soon as she looks at you, you understand why men are bothering her.

She's the type you would have found yourself having a good time with if you hadn't met Root. She's attractive -- long brown locks, green eyes, curvy, and with an average height -- and the fact that she's into guns is definitely a plus.

She looks at you with grateful eyes as the first idiot finally backs off from the scowl you know is on your face, hands raised in surrender.

"Nothing, nothing. We were just leaving. Let's go," he nods towards the exits to the two men, before the three of them file out of the store. "Fucking dykes," you hear one of them mutter under his breath, and you shake your head at their ego, tempted to shoot three of them in the kneecaps before deciding against it. It's not worth it.

"This is what I hate about going to gun stores alone. Men usually take it as an invitation to take me out as if I went here to shop for boys and not guns," the woman says conversationally, and you nod in agreement. "Thanks, you didn't have to do that."

You shrug, focusing instead on the gun she has on her hands. It's not your type, but you can definitely see the appeal.

"Ruger American Pistol 9mm, huh? You a gun enthusiast?"

The woman grins and both of you spend the next hour talking guns.

Normally, you wouldn't have even bothered staying. But the chance to talk to someone -- other than Root -- about guns is refreshing, and something you honestly missed.

-

Root has never been more stressed than when Sander throws a tantrum.

They're rare even for his age when they're supposed to happen often, but when they do, Root feels her heart sinking in her chest. She knows that the only reason why Sander would throw a fit is because he doesn't like something, and right now, that something is the haircut Root insisted he should have.

As soon as the barber was done with his hair, one look at the mirror was enough to send Sander into a fit, angrily fisting his hair and scowling at Root, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don't want, momma!"

Root sighed, feeling dejected. "Sander, baby, your hair's going to grow again."

"No! I want mama!"

Now, after spending time convincing Sander that there was nothing else she could to do to get his hair back, he's in Root's arms with his arms crossed and a petulant expression on his face as Root walks back to the ammunitions store, feeling sullen from Sander's rejections.

The only person who could talk to him when he's in this mood is Sameen, and sometimes, that fact alone makes Root feel like she's not good enough for her son. It's one of the reasons why Root ignores the growing pain at the small of her back from the weight in her belly in addition to carrying Sander in her arms in favour of getting to Shaw as quickly as possible.

When they finally arrive at the store, Root finds Shaw conversing with another customer -- a pretty customer -- and she actually looks like she's enjoying herself that Root almost finds herself throwing a fit over it. But the bell on the door announces their arrival, and as soon as it does, Shaw takes one look in their direction and it's like she forgets she's having a conversation with someone as she immediately meets Root halfway and gets Sander from her arms, carrying him expertly in her arms.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Shaw whispers to Sander, who just shakes his head and lays it on her shoulder, tightening her arms around her neck.

"He doesn't like his haircut and he's blaming me for it," Root supplies, Sander immediately looking up and scowling at her again.

She sighs sadly, pouting at Sameen who nods in understanding, wrapping her free arm around Root before ushering them out of the store. She notices the lack of shopping bag, and actually makes an effort to stop Sameen from pushing her out the door.

She knows how much Shaw has wanted to buy the new guns she's been raving about, and she doesn't want to be the reason why she doesn't get them in Shaw's rare free time that Root coerced the Machine for.

"Sameen--"

"I can always come back, Root. You're tired. Let's get both of you home."

Root lets herself be pushed out of the store, looking back at the woman Shaw was talking to. The woman smiles at her and points at Shaw's retreating back, mouthing, "she's a keeper."

It's enough to throw Root in a loop that she feels herself stuck in a dreamy daze on their walk back to the apartment, Shaw leading them all the way.

-

Sometimes, Root still can't believe how much a sociopath like Shaw can understand her without so much as hearing a word from her.

As if an unspoken agreement, Sameen takes the reins as soon as they arrive at the apartment. She starts cooking dinner while simultaneously cleaning the house and talking Sander out of his tantrums.

Root watches all of this from a distance, warmth spreading in her chest as her heart beats double time at the sight of Shaw willingly submitting herself to domesticity, and all for the purpose of taking the weight off of Root.

It's not the first time she's done this ever since Root's pregnancy, but every time she does, it still leaves Root speechless to the point that all she can do is watch her wife around the apartment until Shaw rolls her eyes and calls her out for it with a playful smirk on her face.

Root knows -- as she watches Shaw fixing Sander's hair in the bathroom, trimming it to his liking -- that this is Sameen's way of telling them how much she cares for them. The fact that she'd forgone buying the guns she's spent a week raving about to her leaves Root emotional, her chest heavy with love and affection for her compact Persian sociopath.

With a smile, Root wipes the traitorous tears that rolled down her cheeks, before lying down on the bed, preparing for sleep. Sander is as stubborn as Sameen, and so Root knows that whatever she does will only make it worse between her and Sander, even if she wants so badly to kiss her son good night.

She's just about to fall sleep, when she feels the weight that she knows belongs to her son on her left arm. Root opens her eyes and finds Sander looking at her with big brown eyes, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Sorry, momma."

And then everything Root felt in her chest when she was watching him and Sameen comes rushing back, leaving her in tears as she sits up and hugs Sander in her arms.

"Oh, baby boy. It's okay. Momma loves you."

Sander hugs her back, pulling back with a smirk before kissing her on her lips, making Root tear up even more as she smiles back at her son.

"Love you," whispers Sander.

Root can't help but hug him back to her, sobbing now even though she can't understand where all these feelings are coming from. She looks over Sander's shoulder to see Shaw leaning on the bathroom's door frame, watching them with her arms crossed and a pleased smile on her face.

"Thank you," Root mouths to her, and Shaw nods, making her way to them.

"Let's get you to bed, kid. Momma needs to rest."

He pulls back, now with a smile on his face. "Okay!"

"You like your haircut now, bud?"

"Yeah!" He nods frantically, and Root can't help but notice that it's so much better now than when they got out of the barber shop. Again, something she wouldn't have done without Sameen.

Shaw chuckles. "Let's go."

Sander looks back, hugging Root again, which Root willingly takes. "Good night, momma."

"Good night, baby."

Sander is pulled away from her when Shaw carries him in a firearm carry as they leave the room, Shaw slapping his ass playfully, Sander chuckling and fidgeting out of it before both of them disappear from her view.

With Sander and another child coming along, Root suddenly remembers her childhood, which sends her into another round of tears, Shaw coming back not long after with a concerned frown on her face, removing her jeans before slipping into bed with her.

"Root?" Shaw prompts, wrapping her arm around her and using her hand to rub comforting circles on Root's baby bump.

Root didn't grow up with the best upbringing. She promised herself as soon as Sander was born that she'd never let him experience the kind of childhood she'd had. She never met her father, him having left her and her mother as soon as she was born. Her mother, on the other hand, was well into her addiction to even give Root the attention she needed as a child.

Until this day, Root doesn't even know how many times she's had to cook herself dinner, only to burn them so many times but having no choice but to eat them anyway since it was the only way she could eat. Root thinks it might be the reason why she'd grown into the habit of forgetting to eat once in a while after Hanna and finally becoming Root.

Root as a child had never felt what it was like to be loved by her parents; never knew what it felt like to be spoiled. It was a good thing she was good with computers, hacking her way into bank accounts at the age of 13 just to get food on the table for her and her mother.

She doesn't regret anything, but there are times when she finds herself wishing she knew what it felt like to be taken care of by her parents.

And so she tells this to Shaw, almost breaking down but making sure to hold herself together because she knows how uncomfortable Shaw is with emotions no matter how much she's improved in dealing with them, and Shaw ends up wrapping her arms tighter around her with an angry frown on her face.

"You have me, Root," Shaw promises, and it says a lot more that it makes Root smile, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I know, Sameen."

Root leans in for a kiss and Shaw meets her halfway, their lips meeting in a soft, frenzied kiss that leaves Root wanting more before she feels something in her belly that makes her freeze, Shaw freezing along with her as they pull back at the same time.

"Did your stomach just--"

Root feels it again, effectively cutting Shaw's inquiry off, making her chuckle in disbelief.

"Sameen."

Another kick, and both of them look at each other in awe, before chuckling.

"It's--it's moving, Root."

Root tears up in joy, and Shaw looks at her with a grin on her face.

"Jesus, it's not even out yet and it's already cock blocking me."

Root swats her arm, half incredulous and half amused. "Sweetie, our baby just moved and all you can think about is sex."

"Can you blame me?" Shaw quips, smirking.

Root chuckles, both of them with their hands on her stomach, feeling around for the kicks with huge smiles on their faces.

Experiencing Sander's first kick had been exciting and sad for Root. But now that Sameen is here for their second baby, Root's chest spreads with warmth, especially with the look on Shaw's face, it makes everything so much better, and Root couldn't be happier for it.

double trouble

Chapter Summary

Another short chapter, but I think you've been waiting for this one.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Root hums, mirth dancing in her eyes as she lays herself down on the cot in the subway after pulling off her shirt, now only clad in her very distracting black lacy bra.

"Are we playing doctor today, Sameen?"

Technically, you're not really qualified to perform a check-up on Root. You've done your rounds in Obstetrics during your residency, so you know enough of the basics to perform a check-up on her.

Normally, you wouldn't risk it; you'd rather Root have a real professional check on her, but it's been a long time since her last check up -- 10 weeks, to be exact -- and that's too long for you to wait another 2 weeks for Dr. Tillman's friend to be available again. She's already on her 16th week; the fact that she hasn't had a check-up in 10 weeks is worrisome enough if you weren't the least bit knowledgeable about proper care and diet during pregnancy.

It's a good thing Harold kept all the medical equipment he bought for Root during her first pregnancy with Sander, so you really don't have to worry about the lack of equipment, because it's all in your hands.

You ignore Root's question while putting on the latex gloves on each hand, making sure to hear them snap around your skin.

"Oooh, latex," she coos, her eyes alight with ideas. "Are we trying something new to spice up our sex life, Sweetie?" She purrs, and you have to roll your eyes in amusement. She never stops.

"Really, Root?"

"What? A girl can't dream? This whole doctor routine of yours is really turning me on."

You chuckle. You have to give it to her. Root is consistent; she's never stopped pestering you even when you're already married, and you appreciate that, even when they do get annoying sometimes. But you know more than anything else that aside from her libido, Root only does this when she feels particularly...

"Nervous?" you ask, smirk on your face as you prepare the ultrasound and the gel, and she quickly fixes her features, but you can see her swallow inconspicuously, but not inconspicuous enough for you not to notice.

"Me? Nervous? Seriously, Sam, it's like you don't know me at all."

An idea pops in your head and you put up two fingers in front of her, knowing she'll fall for it, and you're not disappointed when her eyes dilate as she smirks at you.

"I already like where this is going. Don't keep a girl waiting," she purrs.

Chuckling, you let your two fingers travel from her thighs, teasing her, before placing it on her neck, making her pout as you check her pulse. It's faster than it normally would be.

"Not nervous, huh?"

"I'm not!" She denies, swatting your hand away. "Just get on with it, Shaw."

You chuckle, opening the gel as you place it above Root's swollen stomach, before squeezing the container, a glop of gel landing on her stomach, making her gasp in surprise.

"Sameen!" she whines, pouting at you.

You chuckle as you finally get the Transducer. This time, you feel something close to what you think nervousness feels like, grabbing one of Root's hands and squeezing it. "You ready?"

She nods, squeezing your hand back harder, prompting you to place the Transducer on her stomach with the other hand, turning to the monitors to see what's inside.

As soon as you hear the heart beat, you frown. You're pretty sure you're hearing what you think you're hearing, but it's been a long time and you could be mistaken.

You move the Transducer around her stomach to get a better view inside of her. It takes a long time, but when you finally get the best view there is, you freeze.

Unbelievable.

"Sameen? Is the baby okay? Is something wrong?" Root asks from the cot, squeezing your hands tighter.

You shake your head, not taking your eyes off of the monitors as you watch the movement inside Root's belly. Holy shit.

"Shaw," Root presses, and this time you look back at her. There's no other way you know how to break it out to her other than...

"Twins."

Root's eyes widen in shock, sitting up using her elbow. "Did...did you say twins?"

"Twins." You nod, finding yourself speechless as you turn off the ultrasound and pack the equipments.

This explains so many things, like Root eating more than you do, how she's more hormonal than the first time around according to the boys, and how she's getting more and more tired with each passing week. Jesus Christ. Two babies. Twins.

Multiple pregnancies, risky, more possible complications, most likely won't complete her full term, most likely delivered through C-section. The facts roll out in your head as you check whether or not the babies share a placenta, before finding yourself sighing in relief when you find that they don't. Less chances of complications, but still complicated.

This definitely means you're not allowing Root to go out on missions anymore no matter what robot overlord says. And you're going to have to bring Root to the doctor's more often now. A real one, this time.

"Twins," Root breathes out, bringing you out of your thoughts. The shell shocked look on her face morphing into a huge smile that you can't help but return. "We're having twins."

"Uhuh." You nod, shaking your head in amusement and chuckling when it finally sinks in. "I seriously hope they don't end up like you."

Root swats your arm, pouting. "That's mean, Sweetie. We can't have all our kids to take after you."

"But two more of you is too much for me to handle, Root. I already have to deal with the robot overlord using your voice," you grumble, Root smirking in return.

"You don't have to pretend anymore that you don't like me, Sameen. You're already married to me."

You smirk back. "Who says I didn't marry you just for sex?"

She frowns, taking it seriously, making you chuckle. Root pouts, "Stop teasing."

You chuckle, helping her to sit up on the cot so that you're face to face, before grabbing her hands and squeezing them in yours.

"But seriously, Root, this means you have to eat more."

"I know."

"And you have to quit moving around too much."

"I know that, Sweetie."

"And no more missions for the Machine, Root. I'm serious. If She needs a hacker, She can use Harold or hire someone else. I don't care. You stay home."

"Okay, Sameen."

Shocked with the lack of resistance, you pull back, frowning at her, making her chuckle.

"I already have the Machine calculating the chances of me having a miscarriage if I continue doing missions in my ear, Sweetie, and I don't like the chances she's giving me."

"At least the robot overlord is good for something for once," you grumble.

"Is that a compliment, Sameen?" the Machine pipes up from the subway car, making you roll your eyes and Root chuckle.

"Does it really have to talk like you?"

Root cackles, wrapping her arms around your neck. "Kiss me."

You surge forward and capture her lips in a kiss, both of you falling on the bed with you on top of her. Root wraps her arms and thighs around you, pulling you into her, making you fall even further down as the kiss gets more intense, your tongues dancing in a fight for dominance.

She arches her back toward you, her stomach hitting you right on yours, and the feeling makes you buck your hips in return, feeling yourself slowly hardening as the kiss continues to intensify, before a yelp makes you pull back from her as fast as you can, sitting on the floor to find Fusco covering his eyes with his hands and a flushed Harold looking anywhere but at the two of you behind him.

"Ah, Jesus! You know you have a room in this bat cave for these things, right? Spare us the nightmare!"

You scowl. "You should have called first."

"Didn't know I had to set an appointment," he scoffs, dropping his hands, before his eyes widen at Root behind you, looking away with a swallow. "And tell Cocoa Puffs to put some shirt on. I don't need to see this."

You look behind you to tell Root off, but she stands up from the cot and walks towards Fusco and Harold with a grin on her face sans her t-shirt like she doesn't have a care in the world, and the image only makes you furious.

"Root! Put your shirt on!"

She ignores you as she leans in teasingly towards Fusco. "Afraid of a little skin, Lionel?"

Fusco scoffs, still not looking at her, and you appreciate it. Harold, on the other hand, is turning into a tomato that you can't help but chuckle as Root tries to walk around in his line of sight.

"Oh, come on, Harry. This isn't the first time you've seen me like this, remember?"

Wait, what?

"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, scowling at Finch whose eyes widen, walking towards you cautiously.

"Ms. Shaw, I assure you it doesn't sound quite like Root would suggest. She had dressed herself in the subway car, and I looked away as soon as I could," he explains in his usual anxiety-ridden monotone.

You continue to scowl, Root chuckling in the background. "Relax, Sweetie. He's telling the truth."

You snap, "Put a fucking shirt on, Root!"

"I'm carrying two people, Sameen. It's hot," she reasons with a pout, unconsciously revealing your latest news to the boys whose gazes switch between the two of you with shell shocked faces.

Fusco shakes his head. "Wait, did I hear her correctly? You're having twins?"

"Yeah! We're having twins this time. Fun, right?" Root claps her hands in excitement.

"This isn't just some crazy psycho trick she's pulling, right?" Fusco turns to you, and you roll your eyes as Finch sighs in exasperation towards Fusco as he walks towards Root, before stopping and looking away when he realizes that Root still doesn't have her motherfucking shirt on. Seriously, the idiot.

"Congratulations, Root. Ms. Shaw. I'm sure the twins are going to be a lovely addition to your family and to our group," he says with a genuine smile, but you can clearly see the concerned look on his face that you already know what he's thinking about, making you chuckle.

"You're kidding, right? Two more of those two lunatics? That doesn't concern you at all, Glasses? Jesus Christ, it's going to be a fucking pandemonium in here," Fusco grumbles, but even then, you see the little tug on his lips.

Root chuckles. "There's no need to pretend you're not excited to babysit for us, Lionel. We all know you like Sander."

He scoffs, playful smirk on his face. "Yeah, that's because he takes after Miss Congeniality over here. I don't know about the twins if they end up like you."

It's your turn to chuckle this time when Root pouts playfully in return, just as you hear Reese's footsteps coming in from the entrance.

"There you are, John! Guess what?" Root approaches him, and you see Reese's eyes widen imperceptibly, before looking away and clearing his throat.

"You can't tell whatever it is with a shirt on?" He asks in his usual husked monotone, looking at you with a frown on his face. "Shaw, do something."

Root chuckles. "Oh, come on, Lurch. You've already seen my lady bits. There's no need to be a prude."

That makes you freeze, looking up to Reese whose eyes widen as they look at you, before he looks back at Root, groaning.

"It's not like we had a choice. No one else was--"

"Wait, wait, wait. What's this about John seeing your lady bits?" You cut him off, narrowing your eyes at the both of them.

Root turns around, innocent look on her face. "Oh, I didn't tell you? John took care of Sander's delivery."

Your eyes widen. On the one half you're thankful, but on the other... Why the hell did you only just find out about this now?

"What the hell, Root?"

"Shaw, there's nothing else to it," John tells you, but you scowl at him. You don't like the fact that he saw Root down there, even if it was under a different circumstance.

"He's right, Sweetie. We didn't have a choice, and that isn't really the point I'm trying to make," she says, turning back to John with a grin on her face. "We're having twins!"

He looks at you to confirm, and you nod at him petulantly, watching as a pleased smile appears on his face.

"Wow, two more, huh?"

"Crazy, right? I'm not sure if I should be scared," Fusco comments, Finch shaking his head at him.

"Don't mind Detective Fusco. I'm sure this is his way of expressing his congratulations," Finch grouchily reasons.

"Well, you have mine. Congratulations, ladies." John gives you both an awkward smile, before moving in to hug Root with a smirk in your direction, making you scowl.

"Hands off, Reese."

"What's wrong, Shaw? We're just hugging."

You scowl, drawing the gun from behind you, Reese immediately pulling away and making his way to the exits as you chase after him.

Behind you, you can hear Fusco and Root chuckling, and Finch muttering under his breath, "I don't know why I put up with all of you."

Chapter End Notes

Let me know what you think! Should I still continue? Are you all still reading this? lol

big brother sander

Chapter Summary

A bit of a prompt from Worldclassbeauty on how she wants Sander to know about his little siblings. This is another short chapter. Hope you like it!

Chapter Notes

Thank you for the overwhelming love in last chapter's comments! I've been feeling dry with words recently, and so it explains why I've been having a hard time writing quality chapters (for me, anyway). Rest assured, I'll write this for as long as I can. Thanks again!

You don't know what it is about Sander today, but he's been testing your patience, which you don't really have in the first place.

He's easy to take care of mostly because he's well-behaved unlike other kids, but right now he's acting like Root, doing the exact opposite of what you've been telling him to do -- which is to stop being so rowdy around Root. The only reason you haven't scolded him yet is because you're in a grocery right now. And normally he doesn't need to be scolded; one look from you or Root is enough to stop him. Right now, that isn't the case, and it's really annoying.

You huff, trying to keep yourself calm as you look at the selection of steak in front of you, while the man waits on the other side of the counter, bored.

"5 steaks. And I want the really marbled ones."

His eyebrows raise at that, but he's smart enough not to say anything else as he dutifully packs 5 marbled stakes into a plastic bag, wrapping it up after putting the price tag, before handing it over to you.

You walk off to the cereals section without a single word with your steaks in one hand, finding Root and Sander just in time for him to run straight to end of the cart, pushing Root who's on the other end who ends up with her back to the shelf, boxes of cereals falling around her to the ground. It's enough to light your fuse.

"Alessandro."

He looks up at the tone of your voice and your use of his full name, big brown doe eyes looking at you as he fidgets with his fingers. Root looks at you and smiles reassuringly, but you can see the way she's massaging her stomach from the impact.

"It's fine, Sameen. I wasn't hurt."

You roll your eyes, returning the fallen boxes to the shelf, ignoring her.

"How many times do I have to tell you to behave, kid?" You ask, and you can't keep the frustration from your tone, Sander whimpering and standing behind Root, who's already frowning at you.

"Shaw--"

"No, Root. He almost hurt you. Jesus, what if it wasn't cereals behind you?" You retort, moving around to get a clear view of Sander who's already looking down at the floor. That won't do. "Alessandro, look at me."

He does, tears slowly pooling in his eyes. It's almost enough to make you melt, but you're too pissed off to relent.

"No TV and ice cream for you later. Do you understand?" Sander nods, pouting lips wobbling. "And you're sleeping early tonight. No toys. You get that, kid?" He nods again, a sob escaping his mouth.

Root picks him up from the floor right away before scowling at you as she pushes the cart to the cashier.

"Was that necessary? You could've waited until we got home, Shaw."

"What, and let him get away with it like always? He needs to learn or he's going to be a spoiled kid."

"And whose fault is that?" Root snaps.

You place the steaks down on the counter before shoving the other groceries from the cart, Root doing the same thing with her other hand as Sander continues to cry in her other arm, sniffing every once in a while.

You're aware of the looks you're getting from the people around you, more so from your attendant, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Oh, so now it's my fault? I'm the one trying to teach him a lesson and you're the one who wants him to get away with it," you snap back, giving your credit card to the attendant so you can fuck off right out of there.

"He's a kid, Shaw. Do you seriously think he won't misbehave every once in a while?" says Root, snatching the bags from the counter and briskly walking out of there.

You follow her after getting your credit card, snatching the bags from her hand as soon as you reach her, leading the way to your black Range Rover Sports.

"I know that, Root, but you could've been hurt," you argue, getting a scoff in return as Root stares you down.

"I wasn't and he doesn't know yet, Shaw. Give your son some credit!" She snaps, going straight inside the passenger seat once you've unlocked the car, leaving you alone to haul all your groceries into the trunk.

You scoff. She does have a point, but that doesn't mean Sander can get away with everything.

You make your way to the driver's seat to see Root comforting Sander, with Root looking over at you with a disappointed scowl on her face, before completely ignoring you for the rest of the ride.

You almost scoff at the pettiness of it all, but then realize halfway to your apartment that you could've handled things better. Sander doesn't know about his siblings yet, and there's a part of you that knows he wouldn't have been so rowdy in front of Root if he knew.

You drop them off in front of your building, Root immediately getting off with Sander without a word as soon as the car's stopped, making you sigh and shake your head as you drive around to the parking building.

You expertly carry the groceries back to your apartment, where you're immediately greeted by Bear who wags his tail happily at you. At least there's someone who's happy to see you here, you scoff to yourself, noting how well Root and Sander are keeping their distance from you, hearing hushed voices coming from Sander's room.

With a sigh, you set the bags down, Bear automatically biting on one to carry it to the kitchen, before coming back for the others. You put all the meat inside the fridge, waiting for Bear. When he's done, he stands in front of you, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he happily stares at you. The look is enough to make you feel better, and you decide to take him out for a much needed run.

You change into your running gear inside your room -- all black sweatshirt, jacket, sweatpants, bonnet, and Adidas running shoes to beat the cold winter -- before slipping out of the apartment easily with Bear in tow without Root and Sander noticing.

You look down at Bear as you ride the elevator, and he looks up at you like you've just given him the best treat.

"I hope you're okay with this, buddy. I'll give you a treat on the way back--maybe buy you some of those cupcakes you want. How does that sound?"

He woofs his approval, making you chuckle as the door of the elevator opens, both of you stepping out at the same time.

You put your earphones on, and you're surprised that your running playlist plays immediately before you can even put your phone out. You already know who the culprit is, looking at the nearest CCTV to nod your thanks, before sprinting off towards the direction of Central Park.

The run provides a welcome change into your routine. You haven't been able to run as much as you did before ever since you found out Root's pregnant. You haven't been able to run at all when you found she's carrying twins, preferring to stay at home and have eyes on her when you're not out helping the numbers, knowing Root's penchant to be stubborn.

Taking advantage of this rare chance, you alternate between running and jogging, never once stopping as you and Bear weave through mass of tourists and locals. Bear matches your pace all throughout beside you, and it's enough comfort for you that you get lost in the rush of your blood and the beat of your heart, ridding yourself of annoying thoughts.

It works. With every step forward, you feel yourself relaxing until you've recovered your Zen. You don't know how long you run for, but you're sure you've passed an hour and a half judging by how sore your calves are, only stopping when you feel your phone buzzing with a new message.

You slow to a stop at the bridge, Bear stopping alongside you as both of you pant, trying to catch your breaths.

You pull out your phone and see that you've been running for two hours, and it's almost dinner time. Shit. No wonder Root's texting.

Where are you?

Took a run with Bear, you text back, and your phone buzzes with a new message right away.

Are you coming back?

The message makes you stop and realize how you slipping away without permission must have felt for Root. Root knows that you always come back, and she only does this when she's anxious.

You sigh, shaking your head at yourself. You're definitely not winning wife of the year for making Root feel like you abandoned her -- or mother of the year for upsetting Sander, and to think you have two more coming. Your phone buzzes with another message.

Sameen?

Well, that definitely means you're out of the doghouse if she's calling you by your given name. You sigh, typing a message. Always, Root.

Buzz. Bring home Chinese? :)

Despite yourself, you chuckle at Root's love for food, before texting back your assent.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket, looking down at Bear who's panting and waiting for your next command.

"Guess it's time for us to go home, buddy. Do you still want those cupcakes?"

He barks twice, and you have to chuckle at his excitement as both of you make your way to get his cupcakes and your Chinese dinner.

-

As soon as you enter the apartment, a bag of take out Chinese in one hand and Bear's red velvet cupcakes in the other, Root barrels into you, wrapping her arms your neck, almost making you drop the food in your hands.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," she whispers, pulling back with a pout.

You shake your head. "I deserve it. I should've handled that better."

She smiles, pecking you on the lips, before pulling away to bite her lip. "I think it's time we told him."

You nod. Definitely. You look around, finding him nowhere in sight.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine, Sweetie. He's taking a nap."

You nod, removing your jacket and placing it on top of the couch, making your way to the kitchen to prepare your son's dinner -- pasta, rice and potato -- with Root in tow. She snatches the bag of Chinese and inspects the food, making you chuckle.

"There's mayonnaise in there, Root. I don't know how you can stomach all of that in you."

She chuckles. "Your children are craving for it, Sameen, and you know Dr. Ramirez said follow my cravings."

You snort. "Except mayo. Damn thing should be banned."

Root chuckles again, setting the table behind you and helping you every once in a while. Before you know it, Sander's dinner is done, and you've set everything up on the table.

You nod to her, telling her in no words to wake him up. It doesn't take long for both of them to join you, Sander still looking sullen as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, and the sight is enough to make you feel guilty. You roll your eyes at yourself. Goddamn it.

"Hey, kid. Come sit on mama's lap for a sec."

He hesitates, looking at Root for confirmation, who nods at him with a reassuring smile on her face. Sander climbs on your lap and you assist him, looking at you with big brown eyes that look a lot like Root's when he's apprehensive, except it's as dark as yours.

You clear your throat, rubbing his stomach with your hand. "Sorry about earlier, kid, but you weren't careful around your momma."

"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath, and you kiss his cheek.

"It's fine, bud. But your momma and I need to tell you something."

He looks up. "Whassat?"

You look up at Root, who nods at you, giving you the go ahead.

"You're going to be a big brother. Momma's going to have babies."

"Babies?" He asks, interested.

"Yeah, kid. Like your friends in play school."

"Like Jasper," adds Root.

He lights up. "Really? Me big bother?"

You and Root chuckle as Root pipes up, "Brother, baby. In here, your siblings are in here." She rubs her stomach, Sander looking on in interest, smirking.

"Two?" he asks, flashing two fingers, amusing you even more.

"Yeah, son. Now you understand why you have to be careful around your momma?"

He nods, eyes alight with excitement. "When?"

Root chuckles. "Maybe four months from now. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah!" he yells, fidgeting out of your lap to walk towards Root, touching her stomach reverently. "Hello!"

Root's mouth turns into an O, before she grins, grabbing one of Sander's hands and placing it below her navel. "They're moving. Can you feel that?"

A pause, and then Sander chuckles. "Babies?"

"Yes, they're saying hi to you," Root answers, effectively making Sander chuckle more.

"More, more! Hi!" he says, tapping Root's stomach with more care, both you and Root looking at each other with relieved sighs, glad that Sander's not throwing a hissy fit.

You eat dinner when Sander's done fussing with Root's belly and everything becomes so much better for your family after that.

mahalo part 1

Chapter Summary

This chapter has a prompt from Yves (sex from behind), Nicola and Rsfschicken (Shaw reluctant to have sex w Root bec of the twins), and someone suggested them to have a vacation. Plus!!! Someone wanted Sander to be a little bodyguard to Root. (Forgot ur name, sorry, but thanks for the prompt!)

Sorry this took too long! Life has been too busy for me lately. This is only part 1 of their vacation, so you can expect more -- and I hope I get to write soon.

The Machine sends you out of the country to take care of relevant numbers after you've settled things with Sander, taking over Root's job before the whole thing with Samaritan blew up.

You don't know what it is about people these days and their desire to blow up the good ol' US of A, but they've increased in the last month and it has worried the Machine enough to call you to take care of them, knowing your history with the ISA. You know the robot overlord wouldn't have you away from Root unless strictly necessary, and it's been necessary for the past month now.

You're pretty sure you've heard one of Harold and Root's many arguments about Finch not teaching the damn thing to favour a person over another, but Skynet favours them both over all of you, and so you're not exactly surprised that it's done whatever is necessary to keep you at home with Root until recently. You appreciate the effort, really, but you can't deny that you've missed the thrill and the adrenaline that comes with dealing with more courageous idiots across borders.

In the past four weeks, you've been in 3 different states; Nevada, Texas and Pennsylvania, and 5 countries; Mexico, Cuba, England, Germany and the Czech Republic. Each trip has taken you more than 2 days to finish, some even more, but that's faster than anyone can ever accomplish -- according to Root's robot lover anyway.

The only thing you don't like about being away for so long and so many times is that you can't keep an eye out for Root and Sander. It's a good thing the boys have taken it upon themselves to visit your apartment just to check on Root and report back to you even without your say so, which you've really appreciated.

Sander has been a big help, too, taking care of his mom when you're not around.

(You still remember the time when you were leaving for Germany to take care of your third relevant number. You'd been warned by robot overlord that you might be away for longer than usual, and so you'd pulled him aside and kneeled before him while Root was in the kitchen preparing his breakfast.

"Where you go, mama?" He asked, still rubbing sleep off his eyes.

"Germany. I'll be gone for a while, so I need you to do something for me."

"Whassat?"

"Take care of momma for me, can you do that?"

He nodded. "'kay."

You smiled, hugging him before standing up. He looked up at you, still following you with drooping eyes, and it was almost enough to make you stay.

"Home soon," he said, and you nodded, before leaving.

Two days later, while you were staking out a terrorist safe house in Germany, Root called you.

"Root."

"Sameen, why is our son following me around with a toy gun?" Root's alarmed voice came in your earpiece, and you'd almost chuckled out loud at the tone of her voice, more so with Sander dutifully following your orders.

"And this is my fault, how?" you replied innocently, trying to keep a straight face even if she couldn't see you -- God knows she could have every CCTV tampered with by the Machine in the city just to keep an eye on you; she's creepy like that.

"He's been following me around with a serious look on his face, Sweetie. He's like a mini bodyguard--he wouldn't let up and leave me alone for a minute! Of course I know it was you."

"That's my boy," you said through chuckles, hearing Root tutting on the other end of the line.

"Sam."

You scoffed, petulant. "What? Sander's with you 24/7 except when he's in play school. I had no one else to talk to."

Root sighed. "I know that, Sweetie, and while you know how much I love it when you're all protective over me, did you really need to rope our son into this?"

"Would you rather it was Reese following you around with a toy hammer?" you asked, can't help but say it sourly. You still weren't over the fact that he'd delivered Sander. It should've been you. Plus, he saw her naked.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" She chuckled.

You snorted. "Sociopath, remember? I don't do jealous."

"Whatever you say, baby," she retorted teasingly, making you roll your eyes. "The big lug wouldn't follow me with a toy hammer, anyway. He would just brood in one corner."

Both of you shared a laugh at that. It wasn't hard to imagine.)

Root, on the other hand, has only gotten sappier and hornier as the Machine keeps sending you out of the country.

(You were in England then -- your third country in a span of two weeks -- cursing the fucking unpredictable weather you didn't sign up for as you tailed a rogue MI5 agent, when Root called.

"Hey, Sweetie. How's my little firecracker doing?" came her usual flirty tone in the earpiece, providing you a much needed comfort.

You scoffed, grumbling, "Cold. Wet."

You realized too late that you'd given her ammo to annoy you, and groaned right away as she chuckled.

"Me, too, Sameen. Wanna have phone sex?" She purred over the phone, and you could feel your member twitching in your pants.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You don't ever stop, do you?"

She sighed, and you could feel her sadness seeping in from your earpiece. "I miss you."

You felt the same way, but you snorted instead.

"It's only been a day, Root. I'll be back before you know it."

"Until She steals you away from me again," she grumbled, petulant, making you chuckle.

"Uh oh, trouble in paradise?" you teased, chuckling as you watched the rogue MI5 agent enter a sketchy alleyway. You followed him.

"It's not funny," she huffed. "And it's more like a Sahara desert for me down there, Sweetie. This has never happened before in our relationship."

You groaned, closing your eyes. You hadn't been able to have as much sex with Root for the past few weeks, and you couldn't deny that you missed being inside her.

"That's not my fault, Root. Talk to your other half about this."

"But I do! Every single day. She says She doesn't have a choice. You're the only one good enough to take care of the relevant numbers for now. Why did you have to be so good at chasing bad guys?" she huffed, petulant, and you could picture the pout on her face.

The MI5 agent stopped and looked around as if sensing a tail. You retreated back and leaned against a wall, counting to 10 seconds.

"I gotta go." You peaked around to see him entering a door to the far wall on your right. You followed him, stopping before entering as you debated whether or not to give Root something back. In the end, you rolled your eyes and sighed. Fuck it. "Miss you, too," you mumbled quickly.

You hung up after that. Your phone buzzed a minute later.

Cute.

You scoffed, typing back a quick text while keeping an eye on your number, cloning his phone. A professional making a rookie mistake; this should be easy.

Fuck you. You sent to Root.

Buzz. Please do ;)

You rolled your eyes, amused, and ignored the text in favour of checking the number's phone, finding all the information you and the robot overlord need to finish the mission by tomorrow, only for you to find a picture message from Root showing you how aroused she was.

You fucked her as soon as you'd stepped foot inside your apartment two days later.)

Honestly, it's all sappy and shit, but you can't blame Root. Every time you leave, every time you're away from them, there's this feeling in your chest that you can't identify -- all you know is that it feels a lot like something's missing.

It's a nagging feeling and you hate it. It's ever present, and you've tried talking yourself out of the relevant numbers once or twice now just to stay behind -- just to get rid of that feeling in your chest -- but the Machine hasn't found a suitable agent to deal with the relevant numbers, which apparently aren't stopping any time soon.

The Machine has just given you another number to take care of for one week, and it almost had Root in hysterics until the Machine announced that it was an all hands on deck situation.

So now, you're on a plane to Hawaii with Root and Sander, Fusco and Lee, Harold, John, and even Zoe -- and it's fucking jam-packed.

You're still pissed about Harold's decision to blend in with everyone else. Seriously, he's rich; you're pretty sure he has a private plane hidden out there somewhere. But you can't deny it makes sense, especially if you trip involves vigilante activities.

It's a good thing Harold had the good graces to put you and Root by the windows. You might have punched someone 5 minutes in if you were seated in the middle row with the other passengers. Sander's seated along with Lee and Fusco a few rows back in one of the middle rows as a compromise to your preference to be away from people.

It's peaceful for the most part, or it should be, if Root would just stop fucking shaking you awake right now.

"Sameen," she whispers, hand on your bicep squeezing and shaking you at the same time.

You try to shrug her hold off, groaning, but she doesn't let up.

"Shaw." Now she's acting distressed, which only makes you open one eye, glaring at her, but you soften right away when you see that she really looks distressed.

You sit up, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"I feel sick." She pouts. "I--I think I'm about to pu--"

"Oh, hell no." You scowl, standing up and pulling her along with you to the lavatory. "There's no way you're going to puke at me, Root. Let's go."

"You really know what to say to make a girl feel better," Root quips behind you, but even then her discomfort is obvious.

"Shut up."

You walk down the aisle as fast as you can without messing with Root's balance, seeing Sander and Lee conversing beside a snoring Fusco. You punch Fusco in the shoulder just for the heck of it, chuckling as he snorts awake before scowling at you.

"You know there's such a thing as being gentle!" He practically yells, prompting some of the passengers to shush him irritably, with him grumbling in return.

You chuckle as you continue to push Root to the lavatory, Root immediately bending over the sink as you're stopped by an attendant.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't go in there with her."

You scowl. Is she kidding? Can't she see how distressed Root is?

"She's my wife and she's pregnant," you snap, the attendant's eyes widening in shock and apology.

"Is there anything we can do to--"

You close the door behind you to shut her off, turning around to help Root when you're suddenly met with lips -- lips you can't help but kiss, arms wrapping around your neck, your hands finding purchase on her hips as both of you pull each other closer, and that's when it hits.

You pull away, Root chasing your lips with hers but you push her off, fingers over her mouth.

"Jesus, Root. Did you just pull me here to have sex?" You hiss, but she overpowers you and kisses you again, and you can't help but return it before pushing her away by her throat.

"Sweetie, you're ruining the plan," she whispers on your mouth, before pouncing on you again.

"Root." You push her back again, tightening your hold on her throat, but her eyes only dilate further, and the desire in her eyes only make you gulp as you feel yourself tightening under your jeans.

"Harder, Sameen."

Jesus Christ.

You let her go as if you've been burned, not trusting yourself not to fuck her inside the small lavatory, but she takes it as a chance to kiss you again, before pulling away with a smirk as her hands travel from your neck down to your crotch, massaging you through your jeans. You groan from the pleasure you haven't had in a while, feeling your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, your resolve diminishing.

"Root, what if I..." You stop, looking at her stomach, and she catches on.

"Sweetie, you're not going to hurt them. You're a doctor--you know it's safe."

"Yeah, but--"

"I know you want this, Shaw. Please, I need you," she pleads. And the want in her voice leaves your throat dry as your resolve finally breaks.

"Damn it, Root," you growl, before kissing her lips, Root returning it with as much fervour as she wraps her arms tighter around your neck. You pull away, Root whining from the loss of contact as you start unbuttoning your jeans. "You really want this, huh?"

"God, yes. Please, I need you inside me," she moans quietly, before you turn her around to face the wall, pushing her against it.

"Yeah? How much?" You hiss, biting her earlobe as your arms go around her waist to start unbuttoning her pants, her hands reach behind her to pull you closer by your ass. You pull down her pants and panties, before grabbing her hands and putting them against the wall.

"Shaw..."

"You better keep quiet, Root," you growl, and she nods, whimpering in need as she turns her head around to the right to kiss you.

You lick her lips, and she opens it right away to grant you entrance. You take over the kiss, pulling your boxers down with one hand, your cock bouncing up and hitting her right on her centre. She whines at the contact, and you don't waste any more time lining up your cock at her entrance, sliding it inside her.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," she pulls away from the kiss, her mouth opening in a silent moan as you pull in and out of her, her tight, wet walls clenching around your cock deliciously, making you bite on her shoulder to stop yourself from moaning.

Root reaches behind her with one hand, and you grab the straying hand right away and place it on the wall again, both of your hands intertwining with hers as you continue thrusting in and out of her faster and harder.

"Fuck, yes," she moans quietly, her head leaning back against yours. "More, baby."

You nip at her exposed neck, Root releasing small bouts of moans and gasps every now and then. It's enough to drive you into her with more force, and before you know it, her walls are tightly clenched around your cock.

"Oh, fuck, I--" you interrupt her moan with a kiss, feeling her quiver as she comes, your left arm coming around her waist to support her weight as you continue to thrust in and out of her, your stomach clenched as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

Her tightly clenched walls help, and after one last thrust, you feel yourself twitching, spurting come inside of her.

"God, I've missed you coming inside me," she purrs into your ear, and you kiss her while you're still inside her, which she lazily returns.

You pull away after a while, sliding your cock out of her and grabbing napkins for both of you, before pulling your boxers and jeans up, Root doing the same with a satisfied smirk on her face.

You roll your eyes. "You happy now?"

"I'm always happy with you, Sweetie," she replies, pecking you once, before chuckling. "I'm not nauseous anymore. Turns out I only needed your magic touch--or should I say... magic stick?" she purrs, and you groan from the terrible punch line, making her chuckle.

"Just go ahead and act like you've just vomited for the past 15 minutes, would you?" You grumble, shooing her off.

"Don't take too long." She pecks you again, smiling softly this time as she squeezes your bicep, before leaving the lavatory.

You walk back to your seat after answering nature's call, passing by Fusco who has a disgusted look on his face. You scowl at him, daring him to say anything about what you just did, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut. Your attention moves to Sander who's now fast asleep with his head leaning on Lee's shoulder.

"Want me to take him?" You ask, nodding towards Sander.

"It's fine. I got it, Shaw," Lee says, smiling, and you return it with a little tug of your lips, ruffling his hair before making your way back to your seat.

He's a good kid. You hope life doesn't leave him astray like his father, even though you're proud Fusco has gone a long way from his days with the HR.

Root grabs your hand and leans her head on your shoulder as soon as you're back on your seat, nuzzling her head further to get comfortable. You would've shrugged her off, but you reckon no one will care anyway if they see you in that position. Well, except for Zoe, who's smirking at you teasingly as she makes her way to the lavatory. You glare and give her the finger, her smirk only widening as she passes by you.

You're just going to have to take back the Beretta you gave her. Or maybe not. Whatever. You submit yourself to sleep not long after.

-

After you've checked in at the Kahala Hotel and Resort, where Finch told you your number was booked for three days, all of you congregate in Finch's suite's living room (except the kids who are sleeping in his bedroom at the moment) -- where all of Harold's and Root's laptops combined have already been set up, pictures and information of your relevant number flashed on their screens.

"You serious? This is our guy?" Fusco complains from the back, and you have to agree with him.

The picture flashing before you is Jason Andrews'; boyish smile, nice hair, no facial hair. Looks like your typical good guy. He's maybe even a nerd. You can just see it. And his records are clean, except for a few parking tickets. But then again, if you've learned anything from your time with the ISA, it's always the people you least expect who want to wreak havoc.

Finch turns around stiffly in his chair to look at Fusco. "Need I remind you that the Machine does not make any mistakes with the numbers, much less with a relevant number, Detective Fusco."

"I don't know, Glasses, something tells me this is a case of mistaken identity. Or, I dunno, maybe blackmailing? Otherwise, he's irrelevant."

"it's always the people you least expect who turn out to be the bad guys, Lionel," Reese pipes up from beside you, and you grunt your agreement.

"What's the plan?" Zoe asks from the couch.

"I'm glad you asked, Ms. Morgan. According to his itinerary, he will be at a Reader's convention at the Waiale Room at 3:00 to 5:00 in the afternoon. Detective Fusco and Mr. Reese will bug his room then. Until then," he pauses, turning around and looking at you and Zoe shyly. "You ladies might want to try out the hotel's pool."

You look at Zoe, both of you raising your eyebrows, catching on immediately. You don't mind luring a bad guy to you, but usually it involves more clothes than what Finch is suggesting here. You're not a prude either, but this definitely means you're going to have to go through the hassle of tucking in your extra appendage.

"You really need the both of us for this? Can't Zoe do this?"

Finch clears his throat. "I'm afraid we need you in this, Ms. Shaw. Mr. Andrews has a certain liking to a..." he pauses, looking for words, and you narrow your eyes at him.

"What, Harold?"

He gulps, Root chuckling in her seat beside him. "He means Jason over here likes little firecrackers like you, Sweetie."

"Little?" You growl, prompting Fusco to cackle behind you.

"That's right, Short Stack. You!"

You turn around and glare at him. "Don't make me shoot you, Lionel."

"You ain't scary anymore, Maybelline." You pull out your gun from the waistband of your jeans, and he gulps. "Jesus, easy!"

Root chuckles, rising from her seat and walking behind you, placing her chin on your shoulder. "Sweetie, you know I don't like it when other people flirt at you, but we need you to do this--preferably without shooting Lionel."

"Fine," you grunt, shrugging her off, which only makes her smirk wider.

She leans in, whispering, "I can't wait to see you in a black bikini looking all sexy under the sun. I'm getting all wet just thinking about it."

You ignore the twitch inside your jeans and frown. "I don't remember packing a bikini."

"No, that's because I did," she replies, looking smug and innocent at the same time as she shrugs. "You know... Just in case of emergencies?"

You sigh, shaking your head. She fucking planned this.

"You nerds got one of those books that I can bring with me for this?"

Root grins. "Why, of course, Sameen. It's in my suitcase along with your lovely bikini."

You roll your eyes and turn to the door with Fusco and Reese chuckling at your expense, Zoe following as both of you change into fucking bikinis.

-

"At least pretend like you're having a good time, Shaw. It's Hawaii!"

Your scowl deepens as you look across the bar to Zoe, who's sipping her Mai Tai's with a smirk on her face. You're both dressed in flattering bikinis that show off your toned bodies.

"You're not the one who has to pretend to be all nerdy and flirt with a total book nerd," you grumble under your breath, Zoe chuckling while looking at her phone.

"Are you forgetting you married one?"

"At least Root's hot."

"Is that right, Sweetie?" Root's voice pipes in your earpieces, making you roll your eyes, ignoring her.

Zoe chuckles. "Don't worry, Shaw. Maybe you won't even have to pretend to be a nerd with how good you look."

"She's right, Sameen. You look delicious."

You roll your eyes, stopping the tug of your lips to show your amusement because of course Root would say that.

"Our guy just spotted you, Shaw. He's coming your way," Zoe says, and you go back to reading whatever this book is you're holding, finishing the Daiquiri in your hands.

It doesn't take long for you to feel his presence, sitting on the stool beside you as he catches the bartender's attention.

"Pinot Noir for me and another Daiquiri for the lady here," he says, and your eyebrows rise inconspicuously. At least the nerd knows how to buy a drink for a lady -- you'll give him that.

"Impressive," Root muses through your earpiece, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

You pretend you're busy with your book, switching pages just as you see the bartender coming your way from your peripheral vision. He drops the drinks in front of him, and it doesn't take long before Jason gets them, dropping the glass of Daiquiri on the bar in front of you.

You look up, feigning surprise, finding a boyish smile, abs, and swimming trunks.

"Another Daiquiri? I know reading can be taxing."

No shit, it's already making you sleepy.

You smile anyway and receive the damn drink, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Wow, thank you. Do you read as well?"

"You've been brushing up on your acting, Shaw? IF I didn't know you, I would've believed this," Reese says, chuckling.

"That's my girl," Root says proudly, and you can hear the smirk on her face.

"Yeah, in fact, the book in your hand is one of the first few books I've read." Here we go.

"No spoilers! I hate spoilers," you reply, faking a chuckle he buys easily as he sips his wine.

"Of course! I wouldn't dream of getting in the middle of a woman's entertainment." You have to stop yourself from cringing. Seriously? "Actually, there's a Reader's Convention at the hotel later at 3. It's an annual convention that they hold here in Hawaii. Maybe, if you're interested, you can come with me?"

You feign thinking about it. "Hm, I don't know. How do I know you're not a serial killer?"

He chuckles and doesn't look away as he does so. He's good. If he looked away, you would've clocked him right away.

"I'm the furthest thing from a serial killer...?"

"Nadya," Harold supplies, and you repeat it to Jason.

"Nadya..." He tests the name, nodding to himself as if impressed. "I like it. I'm Mark. Mark Andrews."

Mark? You didn't read any Mark in his name earlier.

"You heard that, Finch?" Zoe asks, and you can hear Harold's frantic typing on the other end of the line.

"Mark Andrews," you repeat the name for their benefit as you wait for Harold's answer. "How do I know you're not a serial killer, Mark?"

"Well..." He shrugs, his hand inching towards yours, and suddenly he doesn't look innocent anymore. You have a bad feeling about this. "he holds your hand, smirking, "maybe you're just going to have to trust me, Nadya."

"He better not get those hands anywhere else," Root growls on the other end of the line.

You chuckle at Root's line, tempted to break his wrist, but instead you shrug his hold away to finish your Daiquiri.

"Oh, dear," you hear Harold exclaim on the other end of the line. "Ms. Shaw, the man beside you is not Jason Andrews. It's Mark, his twin. Recently divorced from his ex-wife Martina Mendez. Martina is the head of United Nations Human Rights Council Representative for the United States."

"Who apparently also happens to be here in Hawaii," Root adds. "Someone's a bitter lover."

"Now we've got a party," you mumble under your breath, smirking from excitement.

"I'm sorry?" Mark asks, and you smile back.

"I said yes, I think it'll be fun."

He grins back, and somehow you think, by the end of the day, you're going to smack someone in the head before this is all over with.

-

"Nadya! Nadya, please, don't' do this!"

You roll your eyes at Mark's screams as Hawaii's cops take him away from the hotel cuffed, before heading your way to the pool.

Mark turned out to be a huge emotional mess as soon as he saw Martina, pulling out his gun from the waistband of his jeans he dressed in for the convention, and it didn't take long for you to incapacitate him and give him off to the police.

Honestly, you don't see why this needed an all hands on deck situation, much less for you and the rest of the team to head all the way to Hawaii for this, but you can't really complain especially if it's freezing in New York while it's sunny in here.

"We done here, Finch?"

"Yes, Ms. Shaw. Thank you."

"Good. Tell Root I'll be by the pool," you say, before taking out your earpiece and crushing it under your slippers.

As soon as you arrive poolside, you take off your loose shirt, leaving you in your bikini top and swimming trunks you wore earlier before the convention, before diving into the pool expertly.

You take advantage of the contrast between the hot weather and the cool pool, swimming across back and forth, alternating between freestyle and breaststroke, not caring about the other tourists in the pool. Nobody gets in your way anyway, and you continue swimming until you feel your stomach growling its protest, prompting you to go to the sidelines, only for you to see Root waiting on the other side with a smirk on her face and a towel in her hand, and a just woken up Sander beside her.

"Hey, good looking," she greets you as you pull yourself up by your hands. She watches you with attentive eyes. "Harold says all of us are staying here for a week. Honestly, I think he planned the whole thing."

"Well, I'm not one to deny a vacation," you mumble as you walk towards them, catching Sander's attention who lights up when he sees you.

"Hi, mama!" He exclaims, running towards you, and it's then you notice he's in his swim wear.

You chuckle, picking him up from the floor and settling him on your hip as he wraps his arms around your neck. "You wanna swim, buddy?"

"Yeah!"

You look at Root and she shrugs. "He's been wanting to jump in there since you dove in, but I didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"You should have. Right, kid?"

Sander nods again, grinning, and you and Root smile. You look up at her. "Join us?"

"Can I?" She asks, and you roll your eyes.

"It's the best exercise for you. Go, change. Come back here when you're done."

She smiles, already unbuttoning her shirt. "No need, Sweetie. I came prepared."

Before you know it, the three of you are splashing around the pool, with you mostly teaching your wife and son how to swim. Not a bad way to end the day.

mahalo part 2

Chapter Summary

Just a little fun with some Drunk!Shaw and smut.

And, I also want to clarify that I didn't mean to imply that Root doesn't know how to swim. She does, but she only knows the basics. Shaw's a better swimmer (or at least, I think).

In all the times and years they've been together, Root has never seen Shaw drunk in every sense of the word. Shaw has always been able to handle her liquor like no one else, and Root has always wondered with amusement where she stores all the food and alcohol combined in her compact body.

Root always thought it was only a matter of time Shaw gets drunk with how often she would challenge the boys to drink with her whenever they had quiet moments in between missions -- which were, in all fairness, really rare. And now, with the opportunity presenting itself in Hawaii, Root's not surprised that Shaw ended up drunk.

The team found out earlier on their second day that there was a pool party that night, and without hesitation, they'd attended after putting the kids to sleep. Shaw had enthusiastically joined in (and won) all the drinking games, pulling Reese and Zoe along with her, which made for a very entertaining night for Root, Lionel, and even Harold.

Now, not only is Reese projectile vomiting whenever he so much as attempts to sit up, and Zoe nodding off to sleep every couple of minutes, but Shaw is significantly more drunk than Root (or anyone from the team, really) has ever seen her -- and even then, she's still in a better situation than Reese, chuckling as he continues to eject all the alcohol they consumed a while ago.

(Thinking about the amount of alcohol is enough to make Root gag. No one should be able to take that much alcohol, but apparently her wife could.)

"Look at him, Root! He's a fuckin' lightweight!" Shaw slurs with a half smile, her eyes half-lidded as she points at Reese's hunched back over the plants. She pats his back. "Reese, c'mon, we're not done yet. We still have another bottle to drink."

Reese grumbles something incoherent from his position, before vomiting again. Root and Harold all grimace in disgust, while Lionel chuckles. It's a good thing Zoe's asleep, or the three of them might have to take care of two vomiting drunks.

"I suppose it's as good a time as any to put them to bed," Harold suggests.

"That's a thank you and a fuck you for delivering my son, Reese. I'm the only one allowed to see Root's vagina, you hear? Mine!" Shaw yells in a slur, chuckling to herself, ignoring the other party goers looking at her with amused faces.

Root winces, amused and embarrassed at the same time. "I better tuck her in before she says anything more about my lady bits to the rest of Hawaii."

"I second that," Harold agrees in haste, flushing beet red from Shaw's confession, making Root chuckle.

Fusco chuckles and groans half-heartedly. "You kidding? This is the best entertainment I've had in a while! Who knew Tiny could be so talkative?"

Root smiles patronizingly at him, her head tilted. "You're lucky she's too drunk to even care about what you think." She stands up, dusting her sundress off as she rubs her stomach. "Good night, Lionel. Harry."

"Good night, Root. Let us know if Sameen gives you any trouble," says Harold.

Root chuckles. "It's fine. I've got her. You have enough on your plate as it is," she says with a nod towards Reese's knocked out form on the floor.

Before Root could even walk towards Sameen, familiar strong arms wrap around her shoulders from behind, causing her to fall back.

"Ow, Sameen!"

Hands are gone in a second, replaced by worried, wandering hands. "Shit. Sorry, Root. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Shaw pouts, and it's enough to set Root off as she chuckles.

"I'm fine, Sweetie. Don't pout." Shaw's pout deepens, crossing her arms petulantly, looking a lot like Sander. Root chuckles even more as she hooks her arm with Shaw's, pulling her to the direction of their room. "Sam, it's fine. Stop pouting. It's unbecoming of you."

"How come when you do it, it always works?"

Root's heart flutters. She's not sure if Shaw's only saying this because she's drunk, but she knows there's a saying there somewhere that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart... Or something like that.

"Are you finally admitting that you find me irresistible, Sameen?" Root teases instead, and the way Shaw scowls actually relieves Root.

"Shut up. Why do you have to ruin everything?" She grumbles, stomping ahead of Root to their room, losing her balance every once in a while.

Root rolls her eyes, amused, catching up to Shaw and hooking their arms together to keep Shaw upright. "You know you don't have to pretend with me anymore, Sweetie."

To Root's surprise, Shaw chuckles, smirking at her.

"I know, but it's cute when you think I mean it even when you know I'm pretending," she slurs. "And then you pout and become all flirty with me even when I know you're hurt," she continues as both of them finally arrive in front of their room. "Sap."

Root chuckles, inserting her hand in Sameen's pocket to get the keys, when instead lips latch on to her neck.

"Mmm, really like it when you go all handsy on me."

Root chuckles, trying to push her wife off. "Sameen, baby, we can't do this here..."

Shaw licks her neck before pulling back, her arms circling around Root's waist -- or as much as it can with Root's swollen stomach.

"Why not? I thought you missed having sex."

"I thought you didn't want anyone else seeing my vagina? You know, in case Reese shows up?" Root retorts with an amused smirk, and Shaw pulls back right away with a scowl, gesturing for her to make it quick.

"Open the door faster then."

The door clicks and Root swings the door open, Sameen stammering inside and dropping herself on the couch of the suite, sighing loudly. Cute, Root thinks, shaking her head as she makes her way to Shaw.

"Faster, slow poke. I wanna fuck you," Shaw slurs, trying and failing to unbutton her jeans. She grunts, her hands dropping to her sides. "Ugh, fuck it. Just grind on me, c'mon."

Root chuckles, but follows the increasingly impatient Persian by sitting on her lap, grinding on her as Shaw helps her by grabbing her ass, but the lack of friction on her centre lets Root know what she already knows -- which is fine. They may be married, but Root doesn't want to take advantage of her wife like this. They draw the line at consent, always, and Shaw's not in the right state of mind to give one, no matter how much Root wants to push through with it.

"Sameen, you're too drunk for this," she says with a chuckle, and Shaw only shakes her head, stubborn, still trying to get Root to grind on her.

"No, 'm not. I'm hard, can't you feel me?"

Root chuckles again, this time grabbing Shaw by her cheeks to look at her unfocused eyes. "Shaw, you're not hard."

Shaw's eyes narrow at that, moving Root away a little to look at her crotch, before realizing that Root's right. Root watches her find out her predicament with a doting smile, chuckling when Shaw ends up frowning.

"That's impossible. I'm always hard. You always make me hard. I feel hard right now."

"Well, you're not." Root smirks, wagging her eyebrows. "But it's definitely nice to know I have that effect on you, Sweetie."

Shaw groans, leaning back on the couch and covering her eyes as Root continues to chuckle in amusement. She's awfully open today, and Root knows it's all the alcohol loosening up her tongue.

"No need to be shy, Sameen. You know I love you regardless," Root says with an amused tone, but she's surprised with the serious look Shaw gives her.

"I know," she says, and she almost sounds sad if Shaw can even be sad, making Root frown.

"What's wrong?"

Shaw shrugs. "I don't get why you do. I don't deserve it."

Root's heart melts at Shaw's confession, and then just as quickly, she feels a sudden rush of anger in her chest. She knows it's because of Shaw's personality disorder, and whoever made her feel like she doesn't deserve to be loved in spite of it, Root will make sure they can't live another day.

"What? Because you're a sociopath?"

Shaw shrugs again, looking anywhere but at Root. She almost looks childish that Root can't help but wrap her arms around her wife's neck, removing Sameen's already messy ponytail, brushing her hair with her fingers.

"I don't feel, Root. I mean I do, but it will never be the same as what you feel for me."

Root sighs, cupping her cheeks. "Shaw, look at me." Shaw looks up, drowsy eyes looking back at her. "I don't care. I love you for exactly who you are, Sameen, and I never want you to change that for me."

"See, that's what I'm saying. I don't deserve this, Root," she groans, shaking her head. "I think I... love you. I know I said it, but I'm not sure if that's what it feels like. You deserve someone who's sure."

Root's heart flutters, but she rolls her eyes. This is uncharacteristic of Shaw. "Sam, where is this coming from?" Shaw's eyes begin drooping even more, prompting Root to shake her gently. "Shaw."

"...turned way up with you," Shaw slurs incomprehensibly, and it seemed too important for Root to let go.

"What?" Root slaps her lightly on the cheek, Shaw's eyes widening a bit. "Sameen? What were you saying?"

"I said, the volume's always turned up when I'm with you," Shaw says, before dropping her head back on the couch, her eyes drooping.

Confused, Root stares in awe, shaking her head. She doesn't know what the hell Shaw's talking about, and she doesn't think she'll know anytime soon.

"Sameen? What volume?"

Shaw mumbles something incomprehensible, before her head and her hold on Root's ass drops. A few seconds later, she's snoring to sleep, leaving Root equal parts confused and amused.

She sighs, smiling as she shakes her head.

For a sociopath, Shaw's dramatic when she's drunk. She can't believe Shaw feels like she doesn't deserve all the love Root feels, but at the same time, she can't blame her. She knows Sameen speaks the truth; she could have anyone else who could love her more than she does. But Root won't have it any other way.

She stays on Sameen's lap for a while, watching her wife sleep as she caresses her cheeks with her thumbs. It's a sight she's rarely had the chance to indulge herself in ever since her pregnancy, especially with Shaw waking up early to run the numbers. And now that she has the chance, her heart feels full.

When sleep finally calls her, her babies inside her protesting, she finally kisses Sameen's forehead, before climbing off of her.

Root removes her boots and then pushes Shaw's body down gently so that she's lying down on her back, before fetching the trash and putting it beside her head just in case. She fills a glass with water and puts it on the coffee table in front of the couch. Root doesn't know if Sameen gets hangovers, but just in case, she places two pills of Aspirin beside the glass, before finally changing into her jammies and going to sleep.

-

You wake up the next day with the feeling of someone watching over you. You groan at the protests your stomach is making from the previous night -- the previous night you can't even remember a damn thing from after the fourth drinking game.

Damn it.

That's never happened before. Sure, you get drunk, but never to the point where you wake up the next day and have absolutely no clue what you've been doing the previous night. The uncertainty is enough to annoy you to consciousness, opening your eyes to find your son smiling at you.

The annoyance you feel goes away quickly at the sight of your son, because how can you feel annoyed when your son looks at you like that?

"Mownin, mama."

You smirk, ruffling his hair. "Hey, kid."

His nose crinkles, his hands pinching it closed. "'tinky! Eww!"

You suddenly remember that you've consumed a fair bit of alcohol last night, and your breath probably smells like trash. You chuckle then, covering his nose with your hand.

"Mama's gonna brush her teeth first, alright?"

"Okay." He nods. "Milk and pancakes after?"

"Sure, kid," you reply as you stand up, ruffling his hair before making your way to the en suite passing through your room where you find Root asleep.

After brushing your teeth, you remove your pants from last night before crawling to the bed, wrapping your arm gently around Root's body, her back to your chest as both of you lay on your side. You feel around for her stomach and squeeze it, waiting as Root's eyes flutter awake until they finally open, blearily looking at you and smiling, which you can't help but return.

"Hey, you're awake," she says, her voice hoarse from sleep, and it somehow sends the blood rushing down south. Christ, you'll never get over how different Root sounds when she's only just woken up. She reaches behind with her arms, wrapping them around your head and massaging you. "No hangover?"

"Just hungry," you say, your stomach growling loudly as if prompted, making Root chuckle.

"Of course you are." She turns around, lying on her back elevated by the pillows, before smirking at you. Oh no. "You're quite the drunk person, Sameen."

You groan, your head falling on her chest. "Please tell me I didn't do or say anything stupid."

Root chuckles from under you, one of her hands rubbing your back. "Well, you did announce to everyone at the party that my vagina was yours."

You look up, alarmed. "You're joking."

"Afraid not, Sweetie. It was really sweet."

You groan, rolling your eyes.

"Only you would find something like that sweet." You use your elbow to support your weight. "What else?"

She hums in thought, before smirking. "Well, you wanted to get it on in the hallway..."

Your eyes widen. "Please tell me we didn't go all exhibitionist."

"Of course not, Sweetie. In fact, we were supposed to do it, but you couldn't get yourself hard," she says, before her eyes light up in mischief. "And then you admitted that I always get you hard."

You chuckle. "You're an idiot if you didn't know that by now. Explains the kids."

"Touche," she says, chuckling.

The sight before you is enough to entice you, and before you can even control yourself, your body reacts, your cock twitching inside your boxers, Root feeling it on her thigh by the smug look on her face. You return the look.

"So, we didn't do it?"

"Mhm." She nods, pouting playfully. "Kinda left me high and dry there, Sameen."

You turn her to her side, positioning yourself behind her, bucking your hips to her ass, and she grinds back in return with a whine, feeling your member straining under your boxers.

"Guess I'm going to have to make up for it, huh?"

"I guess you will," Root purrs, smirking at you from her position.

You insert your hand in the waistband of her shorts and panties, feeling her arousal coating your fingers right away, Root moaning.

"Fucking hell, you're so wet, Root," you groan at the same time as you continue to buck your hips.

"God, Shaw, fuck me," she says in a breathy moan as you continue to grind against each other.

You follow her lead and pull down her shorts, pulling down your boxers with your one hand, lining up your cock on her centre from behind her, both of you moaning at the contact.

You continue bucking forwards and backwards, coating your shaft with her arousal, Root whining when it takes too long.

"Stop teasing."

You lean back slightly, getting her thigh and hanging it on top of yours, leaving her with her thighs wide open. You line your cock on her entrance next, sliding in easily, her walls clenching around you.

"Oh, fuck!" Root moans. "Mmm, fuck, you feel so good."

"Jesus," you moan, as you slowly thrust in and out, wrapping one arm around her neck, the other going around to play with her clit, making her moan loudly.

"Oh, God, yes! Yes, fuck... keep doing that," she moans, leaning back on you as both of you develop a rhythm.

Her gasps and moans only encourage you further, and you have to cover her mouth to avoid Sander from hearing her. Even then, it's not enough.

"Faster, baby, fuck me--" you give her one fast and hard thrust, making her stop, before bucking in and out of her with more speed. "Oh, fuck, yeah... mmm, so good..."

You play with her clit even more, nipping at her shoulder. The gasps and moans coming from her mouth only become louder as you pump in and out, in and out, groaning yourself when her walls clench tighter around you, and you feel all the blood rushing down to your shaft. It's only a matter of time before you come.

"Keep going, fuck, baby. Don't stop," she moans. You curve your hips slightly to hit her on her g-spot, making her gasp and quiver slightly, "oh, God, yeah, just like that, Sam... God, you feel so good. Mmm..."

You can feel yourself getting closer, so you slow down, savouring the feeling of Root around you, making Root whine in protest.

"Sameen..."

You give her one last thrust, staying deep inside of her, you and Root whimpering at the feeling.

"Fuck, Root. You feel so good around me."

"Yeah?" She purrs, clenching around you, making you clench your stomach in pleasure, feeling yourself twitching inside her. She hums, circling her hips, "mmm, so hard and good."

"Root." You hold her hips to stop her, not wanting to come before her.

She looks behind her to look at you as she continues circling and grinding her hips, "come for me, Shaw."

Jesus, fuck. She's pregnant, but she looks so fucking hot like that.

As if on cue, your hips jerk thrice, before you feel yourself releasing inside of her.

"Fuck..." You groan, Root moaning along with you as her pussy clenches around your length, quivering in your arms.

"Mmm..." She hums, still circling her hips, while you match it with a few jerks of your own as you play with her clit, feeling her about to come again. You buck in and out even with your semi, making her moan. "Ah, ah... Oh fuck, Shaw... I'm gonna... I--Shaw!"

You continue playing with her clit to lengthen her orgasm, only pulling away when she squeezes your forearm tightly, putting your arm around her waist instead, hugging her to you as you pull your cock out of her. Both of you whine at the loss, panting against each other to catch your breaths.

You lie on your back, Root turning around to lie on her side, her hand coming around to your cheek to turn your head towards her before kissing you. You let her take control of the kiss, lazily returning it as she eagerly sucks on your upper lip, biting and pulling away, before pecking you one last time.

She pulls away with a soft, satiated smile that you can't help but return. Root opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a knock comes through the door.

"Mama? Pancakes?"

You and Root chuckle at the sound of your son's voice, sounding a lot like he's waited long enough.

"Coming, baby!" Root yells for the both of you, before leaning in to you for another kiss. You suck on her lower lip, before pulling away with a smirk.

"Think you just did. Twice."

She rolls her eyes, swatting your shoulder, before narrowing her eyes at you. "We're not done yet, Sweetie. We'll see."

You chuckle, wagging your eyebrows, the excitement of doing it again with Root helping to give you a better mood for this shitty morning.

"Sure, Root. But first, we got a two-year old to feed," you say as both of you stand up from bed, both of you pulling up your undies before opening the door with Sander standing guard outside.

"Gumownin, momma!" He grins, and you can see Root melting as she lifts him up by his arm pits, kissing him around his face.

"Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, but want pancakes!" He demands in her arms, prompting a chuckle from Root as she walks to the couch.

You watch them from the corner near your room, small smile on your face.

"Okay. We'll eat first, and then do you want to ride the jetski with us?"

"Yeah! Pwees, momma!" Sander exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement, before hugging Root.

Ideally it's not safe, but Sander's tall for his age. Even then, you know you and Root will never let anything happen to him -- rules be damned.

You sigh with contentment, almost forgetting that you should be well hungover right now with the amount of alcohol you consumed. You groan, Root looking up at you with a frown that instantly turns into a teasing smirk when she figures out why.

You're going to have to get the story out of her later. Preferably when you're done fucking her.

sex on the beach

Chapter Summary

What, Jealous!Root and Protective/Jealous!Shaw in one chapter? Prompt chapter from so many of you in this one, so when you see your suggestion down there, thank YOU. :)

Warning: Smut at the latter part, again. ;)

This is the last part of the Hawaii series (sadly, since I already want to meet their twins!)

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

You feel a warm hand on your thigh, chuckling to yourself when it squeezes you almost painfully, but ignore it in favour of feigning sleep under the hot sun you haven't had the chance to enjoy for a long time.

The weather's a bit cooler than you'd like, but it's heat nonetheless, and it's your last day and night here, anyway. Unfortunately, your wife is feeling it -- a bit too much, you think.

You don't know what is up with Root in the past few days, but she's been snapping left and right. It's mostly directed to other people, only once to you, and never to Sander and Bear (of course).

(You'd been out by the beach then when one of the tourists you and Reese saved from drowning approached you and thanked you again for what you did -- unnecessarily. You know what she'd been up to with how many times she'd bitten her lips, looking you up and down, but you ignored it and just grunted, before going back to Root.

Root had been sporting a frown on her face when you came back to her position sunbathing by the benches, and you chalked it up to the heat.

Later, when you were eating at Steak Shack -- a choice that was obviously yours and not Root's, who only consented -- you'd asked her again if she was sure about it, just to make sure.

"I said it's fine, Shaw. Weren't you listening?" She'd snapped much to your surprise.

You would have answered her back just like you always did when Root still wasn't pregnant. You knew how much Root's hormones mess with her mood sometimes. But it kept happening again and again to other people, and that's when you realized it wasn't the hormones, but something else entirely.)

You look up to confirm your suspicion, and you're not surprised to see a brunette in her early 20's looking curiously at your crotch (you didn't bother tucking it in and just wore the fucking compression shorts you had). When she sees you looking, she blushes beet red and looks away, Root's fingers feeling like it's about to tear through your thigh, and it only makes you chuckle in amusement.

"Maybe you should just pee on me and be done with it."

That gets Root out of her green-eyed daze, releasing your thighs, looking at you with a confused frown.

You chuckle. "You know, to mark your 'territory'?"

Root's eyes widen in realization, before smirking. "I didn't know you had that kink, Sweetie. Maybe I should, so everyone would just keep their fucking distance."

"You're disgusting." You snort, rolling your eyes. "That bad, huh?"

She rolls her eyes, finally relaxing beside you. "Honestly, Sameen. You never notice these things. Someone could be laying it thick for you and you still wouldn't notice."

That's not true. You rise up using your elbows.

"If I didn't I wouldn't have noticed your lame efforts at flirting," you retort in your usual deadpan.

"Well, you did say I was hot," she says with a smirk, and you roll your eyes, lying back down on the sun bed, placing the sunglasses perched on your head back on your eyes before closing them. "I guess that's a bonus, hm?"

You open one eye to look at her, smirking. "Right now, it isn't."

She pouts playfully. "Now that's not a nice thing to say to your expecting wife, Sameen."

You chuckle, more so when she crosses her arms petulantly. "Say I don't notice other people, so what? I don't care, Root. Let them look."

"I don't like it," she growls, and you can't help the tug of your lips.

This type of behaviour would have normally made you run for the hills, but Root makes jealous look hot. Jesus, she looks hot all bothered like that.

"Well, I don't like them." You shrug, feigning nonchalance when you see Root's body lighting up. You try to hide the smirk when you see the perfect opportunity to rile her up.

"Sameen--"

"Rebecca!" You yell, sitting up from the bench.

Rebecca, the girl you and Reese saved, stops on her way to the waves and looks over, smiling and waving shyly at you. You hear Root growling beside you, and you have to stop yourself from chuckling. She walks over, and Root's growls only get louder.

"Hey, Shaw. Are you going to swim?" She asks, her voice sweet and annoying, but you carry on.

You shrug. "Maybe in a bit."

She giggles. "I think that's a good idea. Your skin looks really..." she reaches over and touches your shoulder, gently massaging it. "Burnt. You should--"

Suddenly, her hands are ripped away, and the next thing you know, Root is already in front of the girl, the offending hand twisted in Root's own as the girl winces in pain and cowers in fear at the feral look on your wife's face.

"Touch her one more time and I will kill you using my hands," she growls under her breath, and the girl nods, before running away from the both of you as fast as you can.

This time, you can't control yourself from cackling. Root turns around with an unimpressed scowl on her face.

"Your face, Root. Jesus. I won't touch her. She's not my type."

"I know you don't feel, Shaw, but that doesn't mean you should play with my feelings," she snaps, and with a huff, she walks to her bench and packs her things.

"Seriously?" You ask, still chuckling lightly.

"Apparently, I'm the only one who takes this thing between us seriously," she snaps again, walking off before you can even register what happened.

What the hell happened?

You frown, finding yourself trapped in your bench, thinking to yourself. It doesn't take long before someone comes over, and this time it's someone you know.

"What's wrong with Looney Tunes?" Fusco asks, pointing his thumb to the direction where she walked to. "For the first time Cocoa Puffs didn't say anything crazy to me. That never happens. Trouble in paradise?"

You huff, rolling your eyes. "She's just being petty."

"Don't think so, Maybelline." He sits on the bench Root vacated, facing towards you. "You know that look she has on her face when she really wants to kill someone so much that she's not even enjoying it? It was the look on her face!"

Oh, you know that look well. There's the Root that enjoys killing, and there's the Root that doesn't enjoy it -- but not for altruistic reasons. Still, it's some petty, childish shit.

"It's just the hormones, Lionel."

He huffs, chuckling. "If you say so, but don't come knockin' on my room if she kicks you out tonight. I'm getting me some good nights' sleep for tomorrow's flight and you ain't getting in the way of that."

You snort, rolling your eyes as you relax back on the sun bed. That's not going to happen.

-

It doesn't, but what happens next is even worse.

You were making your way back to your room when you saw it. There, in the lobby, still in her black bikini seen through her beach shawl, is Root, talking to some guy who's obviously hitting up on her.

Root doesn't even care, and usually entertains them when she wants to entertain herself by annoying other people. But Root looks like she's honest to goodness flirting back, and the sight is enough to make you furious.

This is how she wants to do it? Pay back, really?

You growl, not even hiding your presence. As if sensing you (which she, miraculously, always does), she looks over to your general direction until she sees you, and the cold, calculated look in her eyes lets you know of the game she's playing.

The guy touches her on her shoulder, and Root -- the fucking idiot -- laps it up and fakes a giggle, making you grimace as you cross your arms and tap your foot on the floor, waiting for her to stop this bullshit. She doesn't. She lets the guy touch her on her shoulder, to brush her hair back and tuck it behind her ear, and when the guy touches her waist, you finally lose it.

(In hindsight, you don't know why you waited so long to do something. But maybe you were just waiting for Root to stop being a child.)

You grab the offending arm and twist it behind his back, pushing him to the far wall of the lobby, catching the attention of the employees and tourists with the gasps that sound throughout the hotel.

You growl, twisting his wrist. "Touch my wife again and I'll kill you, right here, right now, and I'll make it look like an accident."

"She was flirting back!" You twist the arm harder, and he groans and yelps louder. "Ow! Yeah, yeah, I won't! Fuck!"

You release him as he flees, scowling your way as he massages his wrist. You don't wait for one of the employees to scold you, walking to Root who has an amused look on her face, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the beach that's now mostly devoid of tourists, except for a few people here and there.

When you get to a hidden part of the beach, you put her down on the bed, leaning over her and trapping her with your hands on each side of her head, growling.

She chuckles. "Is this the part where we have beach sex?"

"This is the part where I tell you you're my wife," you growl, before kissing her with so much force that you use your teeth, biting her as she groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your neck.

You can already taste the blood on her lip from your bite, but your anger only fuels you, and it doesn't take too much effort for you to control the kiss.

She pulls back, and you growl from the loss of contact, scowling.

"Root--"

"Prove it," she says in a breathy moan, her half-lidded eyes locked on your lips. "Take me, Shaw."

Your member twitches inside your compression shorts, straining against the tight clothing. That does it for you.

In one swift motion, you put your arms around her back and switch your positions with a grunt from Root's extra weight, ending up with her on your lap, her arms wrapping around your neck as you resume your kiss.

Your hands slip under her beach shawl to touch her skin, scratching her back as your kiss intensifies. Root unties your ponytail, fisting your hair and pulling you further, and you groan at the pain, making you pull her closer.

She starts grinding on your lap, both of you moaning into each other's mouths, and the thin cloth of her bikini is enough for you to feel her wet centre, and you groan from the contact, your cock hardening in full.

You can't wait any longer to be inside her.

"Fuck, Root, I need you."

"God. Me, too."

She pulls herself up, your lips separating as you pull down your compression shorts, your strained cock bouncing free to your stomach. Root unties her bikini bottom, the item landing on the sand beside the bench, before she grinds her wet centre on your shaft, both of you moaning at the contact.

She pulls herself up immediately, grabbing your cock to line it up on her entrance, before dropping herself down in one smooth motion, your shaft fully engulfed by her walls.

"Root."

"Sam."

You both moan at the same time, both of you panting from the pleasure. She doesn't move, trying to get used to the feel of you inside her. When you feel her relax, you start bucking her lips when she doesn't move, prompting her to place both hands on your shoulder.

"Fuck... I'll do it," she purrs, reaching for your lips for a peck, before slowly grinding herself forwards and backwards, before finally bouncing up and down. "God, yeah, you feel so full like this."

You put your hands on her hips to guide her, squeezing when she goes too slow, but doesn't relent. It's not enough for you.

"Root," you groan, wanting to pound into her.

"Patience, Sameen," she replies with a wink, before finally abiding your wish as she picks up speed that you can't help but meet her hips as she goes down.

"Fuck, yeah... Fuck me, Shaw!" She moans out loud, and it fuels you as you start bucking up from under her with more force, Root's mouth opening. "Oh, oh... Oh, God, yes, fuck, so good." She starts circling her

hips around your cock, and the wet sounds her arousal is making on your pubic bone is enough to fuel you even more. "Mmm, fuck..."

God, she's so hot like this. Desperate, on top of you, lost in the lust and the feeling of your cock in her delicious pussy with her eyes closed, lip between her teeth.

You can't wait for her to come undone.

You wrap as much of your arms as you can around her body, her bump making it slightly difficult but you manage. You let the arms around her anchor you as you buck your hips up and down, up and down, pounding into her.

"Oh, god, oh, fuck... Yeah, yeah, oh, oh, fuck, don't stop..." You try to circle your hips when it meets with hers, and she lets out a pornographic moan that you know for sure other people are probably hearing right now. "Don't stop, baby. Keep fucking me with that big cock. Take me like you mean it--" you pound into her slowly but harder, and she moans, "oh, God, just like that... Fuck me just like that, oh!"

Your cock feels more and more trapped with every thrust, feeling all the blood rushing down to your shaft. You clench your stomach in an effort to hold back your come, feeling Root fluttering around you, letting you know she's nearing.

"Don't stop, I'm about to come..." You use one hand to pull down one of her bikini cup, trapping her nipple in your mouth, nipping and sucking it, making her moan. "Oh, God, Shaw, I'm gonna... Oh, fuck, I'm coming!"

With one last bite and thrust, she quivers on top of you, prompting you to put your arm back around her to support her weight as she continues circling her hips as she shakes from her orgasm.

"Mmm, you feel so good inside me, baby," she purrs, still circling her hips before she stops. You pant, waiting until she relaxes, before thrusting into her again. "Oh, oh, oh fuck, yes!"

You can feel yourself ready to explode, and this time you don't fight it. You thrust into her one last time, before jerking from under her as you release your load.

"Jesus..." You groan, Root moaning on top of you at the feeling of your come.

She grabs your cheeks, kissing you, and this time it's softer than your earlier kiss. She massages your scalp, and you can't help but whine at how good it feels, prompting her to chuckle as she pulls away, your lips a hair's breath away from hers.

Root smirks. "That was one of our best make up sex ever."

You chuckle. You agree. It may be a bit softer than your usual make up sex, but it fucking did the job.

You stay inside of her and she lets you for a few minutes, until you feel yourself softening and you have to pull away from her. You lie back down on the bench, bringing Root along with you as she lies on your chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

It's silent for the most part, and it isn't uncomfortable or awkward, until Root sighs.

(You won't admit it, but you almost fell asleep. That's how intense sex with Root always is.)

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," she whispers, and you snort.

"I don't even remember what you said."

"About not taking this thing between us seriously, Sameen. That," she says almost exasperatedly but with an amusing tone.

"I know you didn't mean it," you tell her as you run your hand gently on her back, Root sighing and pecking you, before lying back down on your chest.

"You said you don't deserve me, but it's the other way around. I don't deserve you."

You sigh. You're not really in the mood for the feelings talk, mostly because at a rate of 1 to 10, you're at 15 right now. It's too much. You might not be able to breathe.

"How 'bout let's just agree that we're good together? Is that okay, Root?" You compromise.

Root rises from your chest and beams. "I love you, Sam." And just as quickly, her mouth turns into an O, before beaming brighter as she rubs her stomach. "And your kids love you, too."

You touch her stomach reverently, and chuckle when you feel movement. You can't wait for them to come out.

"We haven't even thought of names," you realize, and Root rolls her eyes affectionately.

"Duh, Sameen. They're both going to be Sams."

You groan. "Please, don't. Let's stop at Sander, okay? You don't even use your name."

She pouts. "Fine, but don't blame me either if their names end up too nerdy for you."

"Whatever." You roll your eyes. "Just not Sam." She smirks, and you narrow your eyes. "Don't make me regret this."

She chuckles, her eyes alight with mirth.

"Oh, Sweetie, don't you know by now that you can always trust me?"

Jesus, you're going to regret this.

Chapter End Notes

Let me know what u think!

so near, yet so far

Chapter Summary

A bit of angst prompt courtesy of badwolffgoddess (I don't even know if I succeeded, but here you go, anyway!) and another one that I wouldn't mention because I want it to be a surprise!

Chapter Notes

This is part 1 or a two-part chapter. I wasn't really going to split them up, but I feel like the second part needs a chapter of its own. You'll know when you get to the end. ;)

One of Reese's lines here came from The Day The World Went Away.

"Ms. Shaw, is everything alright?"

You look down at the blood oozing out from your shoulder wincing in pain when you cover it with your hand as bullets whiz by your hiding place.

It's a fairly easy number since all the perps don't know how to shoot, but one of the perps got lucky and tagged you on your left shoulder -- and it isn't even a through and through at that.

"Just dandy, Finch," you tell him through gritted teeth as you stand up, biting your lip as you prepare yourself to raise the hand connected to said shoulder to start shooting at the perps.

"I'm on my way, Shaw. Stay put," Reese says, and you roll your eyes. He should've been here sooner, but alas, you're about to finish this all by yourself.

Once the sound of bullets cease and you hear the sound of reloading, you duck out of your hiding place and start shooting, hitting two perps on their shoulder, three on their kneecaps, and the boss on the tip of his ear, prompting him to scream and release his hold on the number -- Colton; a fucking kid -- who runs towards you crying. You put him behind you, not wanting to risk him getting hurt, before shooting the perp on both hands and knees just to make sure the asshat doesn't dare touch kids again.

You'll never understand why some people prey on children. If you're going to prey on someone, prey on someone on your level. Christ, it pisses you off. You would've killed him off if it didn't mean an impending lecture from Harold, who's now panicking over the comms.

"Ms. Shaw? Are you alright, Sameen?"

"It's done, Finch," you grunt with a slight slur, feeling slightly dizzy from the blood loss, looking down at the whimpering kid who's 2 years older than Sander. "I have the kid."

"Oh, thank goodness." Harold sighs, and the relief is obvious. "Oh, thank goodness you and Colton are safe," he sighs again, and you can hear the tap-tap-tapping of his keyboard. "I've tasked Detective Fusco to give him back to his parents. He's on his way with Mr. Reese."

You grunt before turning off your earpiece, still looking at the kid whose wide teary eyes are gazing at you. You ignore the flame in your chest at the memory of Sander's kidnapping. You don't know what it must be like for the kid's parents, but if what you felt that day is anything to go by, then you know it's so much worse -- you're sure it's a feeling that will suffocate you, and you don't like that.

(Briefly, you think about what it must have been like for your mother to receive the news of your "passing", but you throw away the thought as soon as it appears.

You don't want to know.)

You grab Colton's hand and make your way to the exit. You're almost there when you're pulled back, making you look back at him.

Colton points at your shoulder. "You're bleeding, miss."

No shit.

You tug him. "Let's go, my friend will take you back to your parents."

An unfamiliar car rolls around as soon as you exit, and you groan to yourself. You don't have the energy to deal with another set of goons. Your vision is blurring; you're ready to faint anytime soon, but you raise your gun anyway, ready to shoot when Reese comes out with his hands raised from the passenger seat.

"Relax, hot shot. It's the cavalry, come on!"

You let out a sigh and cross the road, but as soon as you do, you feel your hand slipping from Colton's, his sobs the only thing you can hear as you fall on your knees. You would've fallen face first on the ground if it wasn't for Reese putting himself in front of you, arms wrapped around your torso.

"I've got you, Shaw," he says in his gruff tone, and this time, you let unconsciousness consume you.

-

Reese takes you home after fixing you up in the subway. You try to reject his chivalrous offer -- you're fine; this is nothing compared to what you've suffered in your time in the Marines and the ISA, and more especially your time with Samaritan -- but he insisted, telling you that it's the least he could do for being late.

When you open the door to your apartment, the first thing you expect is Root angrily telling you off for letting her worry so much, but what you didn't expect is your son running towards you with tears running down his cheeks.

"Mama!" Sander sobs, hugging your legs, burying his face on your thigh as sobs continue to wrack his body.

You frown. You've never seen him breakdown like this, and you hate the feeling that it incites in you. You ignore the pulsing pain on your shoulder and pull him off of you in favour of kneeling down in front of him, cupping his cheeks.

"What's wrong, kid? Where's your mom?"

The question seems to only push him further, and his sobs get stronger.

"Momma blood! Babies blood!"

Root and babies with blood is enough to make your heart beat double time. You don't wait for any more explanations. The word 'blood' enough to get you on your feet and quickly carry Sander in your arms as you make your way to your bedroom, putting him down on the bed.

You've never felt as much fear as you are feeling now, and you don't like the feeling. You hate it. If anything happened to Root and the twins... You might as well go on a killing spree.

You kneel in front of Sander, cupping his face. "Stay here. Mama's gonna take care of it."

He nods, still sobbing to himself.

You stand up and follow the little specks of blood on the floor to the direction of the bathroom's slightly ajar door.

For a while, a feeling akin to panic comes over you. It's a typical scene from the movies. But you know Root could handle herself; the Machine would've warned you if something had happened, and that's enough to calm the storm raging inside of you as you push open the door. You hear sniffles from the inside.

"Root?"

You're met with an image of a distraught Root, looking up at you from her seated position in front of the toilet. Before you know it, her lips wobble, and then she's sobbing. Oh, Jesus.

You quickly kneel down in front of her.

"Root..."

She sobs, hands reaching out for you. "I'm sorry, Sameen. I'm so sorry."

You frown. You don't what she's sorry for, but when you look down, you finally see the problem. Little specks of blood mark her panties, and just as quick, your mind catalogues every medical knowledge you have with regard to pregnancy.

Spotting. Root's spotting.

"I don't know what I did--it just happened. I--oh, god, our babies, Shaw."

You look up and cup her cheeks, rubbing them. You hate seeing her like this. "Root--"

"I'm sorry, Shaw. I--I know we didn't ever plan to have kids, and I know you don't like them, bu--but, I know how much you love Sander and--"

"Root." You try to catch her attention, but it's like she doesn't hear you at all, lost in her thoughts.

"--I know how excited you are for the twins, and oh, god, I ruined it. I ruined it. I'm so sorry, Shaw. Please don't leave me."

"Root," you say louder with a stern voice, shaking her head, effectively catching her attention as she looks at you with tear-stricken questioning eyes.

"Sameen?"

You roll your eyes. "You don't ever shut up, do you?" She pouts, lips wobbling again. You curse yourself. You're obviously not doing a great job of comforting your wife. "Stop. It's not what you think."

"But, Sameen--"

"Root, it's spotting--you're spotting. That's all there is to it." You hope, anyway, but you're pretty sure you're right.

"But--" she tries to reason out, but you cut her off just as quick.

"Was there a lot of blood?"

She pauses, and then a sob escapes her mouth before she bites her lip. "The fact that there's blood is a bad thing, Shaw."

Yes, but not necessarily, you answer in your mind.

"Okay," you sigh, but with the amount you've seen so far, you can tell it's only a little and that's good. "But, was it continuous? Is there still blood?"

She pauses, before shaking her head.

You nod. "Good, that means the twins are fine. Did you do anything physical before this?"

"No, I just got out of bed a few minutes ago... I think."

You roll your eyes, because of course the idiot wouldn't have any concept of time when she's too emotional, but also because of the fact that you already know how this happened.

"Any pain? Any discomfort?"

She shakes her head again, seemingly calming down from your questions alone.

You sigh, almost chuckling from realization.

Ever since Hawaii, you and Root have had more sex than you've had in a while. It's like Root's hormones are triggered whenever you're around, and just as well, you can't help yourself from admiring Root's form, ending up with both of you fucking each other's brains out. You've had a lot of close calls from Sander catching both of you in action, but miraculously, you've both avoided that situation altogether.

Sometimes the sex is rough, sometimes it's soft, but it's always intense -- and last night was particularly rough.

(You'd been doing it in the shower with Root's back on the wall as you carried her form, her legs folded in as you pounded into her.)

"Sam?" Root prompts, and you realize she must have been waiting for an explanation. "Sam, please tell me--"

"They're fine, Root. You're spotting because I think I was a little rough with you last night," you say, and almost smile sheepishly at her.

She blinks and gets that far away look on her face, her eyes dilating as you watch her remember what happened last night, before her eyes focus on you again. This time, she wipes her tears, a smile slowly tugging her lips.

"That's a shame. I really like it when you're rough," she purrs, but the playfulness isn't fully there yet. You decide to ride along with it, huffing in amusement.

"Of course you do," you reply, smirking. "But I think we should keep it down for a while."

This time, she pouts, and it's more playful. "Are you banning sex, Sweetie? I'm starting to feel like this marriage isn't worth it."

For your part, you chuckle. If Root's joking, it's a sign that you've calmed her down significantly.

"Idiot. I'm not saying we can't have sex. I'm saying we shouldn't be rough for a while."

Her eyes light up, beaming at the news, but there's still a worried line on her eyebrows, which you try to sooth with your fingers. She bites her lip, looking at you.

"A--are you sure our kids are fine?"

"We don't lie to each other, Root."

She smiles at that, but she still looks a bit hesitant. You can't blame her.

You let one of your hands travel just below her stomach, her hand intertwining on top of yours, holding you there.

"There's increased blood supply in your pelvis, and your cervix is softer than usual. So, you know... Whenever we get rough, you're really going to bleed," you explain, and she squeezes your hand.

"So no rough sex?" She pouts, and you chuckle.

"No rough sex, Root. But you're okay, and the kids are fine. We can go to the doctor's tomorrow just to make sure."

"Okay." She smiles, and you feel your heart doing weird shit in your chest. You look away, clearing your throat as you stand up. She pulls you back to her, worried frown on her face. "Where are you going?"

"Gonna get you some new clothes. You can't show yourself to Sander all bloodied," you say, squeezing her hand before letting go. The kid's probably traumatized by now.

You come back half a minute later with fresh clothes for Root from the walk-in closet. When you walk out of the bathroom with a newly-dressed Root, you find Sander knocked out on your bed with his mouth open.

You and Root chuckle as both of you drag him to the middle with him grumbling in sleep.

Just when you're about to drift into sleep, Root squeezes your hand that's placed on her stomach, prompting you to open your eyes blearily.

"I thought I was going to lose them and you today," she whispers, and she almost looks like she's about to cry.

You squeeze her hand. "We're here, Root."

"I know."

The last thing you feel before drifting off is the feel of lips on your forehead, and the breath of your son on your neck.

-

You don't let Root out of your sight after that just in case. You talk yourself out of the numbers, and Harold, John and Lionel understand enough not to call you even when you know they need help.

You've been told to take it down a notch by Dr. Ramirez with the sex. But you decided for Root -- much to her annoyance -- that it's better to skip it altogether for a while. You don't want Root to have another scare. It's a notch too much, sure, but you'd rather lose the sex for now than lose Root and the twins.

Sander, on the other hand, gets traumatized after that. He's seen blood -- blood coming from your and Root's wounds before -- but you understand with Root's pregnancy, it could've meant something else to him and you don't blame him. But he's always been intelligent, and so you try to explain to him as best as you can why that happened to his mom -- minus the sex part. He understands, and has since been doubling his 'bodyguard duties' (as Root calls it with equal parts doting and amusement for your son) even when you're around.

It's been two weeks since, and you've missed being out there more than anything. At the same time, you've also had more time with Sander; taking him to playschool, helping him take a bath, and teaching him a few words every now and then among others. You've also had the chance to clean the house (and yours and Root's pistols), and more importantly, catch up on some sleep.

Afternoon naps have been a rare luxury all your life, and you've started to see the beauty of it ever since Root's pregnancy. You're trying to catch up on one now, that is, if your phone would stop fucking ringing through the bedroom.

You groan, burying yourself under your pillow, trying to fall back asleep, but it doesn't work. You reach out a hand for your phone and throw it all the way across the room, sighing when you hear it crack before the ringing stops. You're almost asleep when it rings again.

"Shut up!" You grumble from under your pillow, encasing your ears with it, but it's too fucking incessant that you give up and put away the pillow just in time to see Root come through the room with a frown on her face as she searches for your phone.

You watch as she retrieves it from the phone, flashing it towards you. "It's Harry. Do you want me to answer it?" You grunt, and she takes it as a yes, putting it on speaker phone for you to hear. "This better be important, Harry. You just disturbed Sameen's afternoon nap."

"I apologize, Root, Ms. Shaw. I know we agreed that Ms. Shaw would take a back seat, but I'm afraid I received a number that only Ms. Shaw can take care of."

That catches your attention, sitting up from bed. The Machine wouldn't do this unless it's a personal number -- or someone you know from the past.

"Who is it?" You ask as Root sits down beside you.

"The Machine won't tell me. The only thing she's divulged so far is that it's imminent and she wants you to take care of it."

You roll your eyes. The Machine and her never ending riddles and guessing games.

To your surprise, Root gives you the phone and walks off, angrily muttering under breath. You know she's arguing with the Machine, so you do the inevitable: dress up and prepare yourself to deal with the number.

"Ms. Shaw?" Harold asks, sounding anxious.

"Still here, Finch. Nothing on our number so far?"

"Nothing. I'm afraid I don't even know the number's number. The Machine is on a need-to-know basis, and you're the only one who needs to know about this," he says as you pocket extra mags in your pockets. "She's told me she'll give you everything you need to know through a private line."

You sigh, putting on an earwig. "Alright, Finch. I'll keep you posted."

"Please do, Ms. Shaw."

You turn around just in time for Root to come in with a disappointed scowl, softening once she sets her eyes on you, before her features turn predatory as she approaches you.

"Looking good, Sweetie. Sure I can't do anything to make you stay?" She says, hands on your shoulder, but even you know she's only trying to make herself feel better.

You squeeze her waist, kissing her lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

-

The Machine sends you to the Bronx. Robot hasn't told you anything about the number, just that she lives within the area, and that you have to wait.

You've been staking out for three hours now, and you're just about to tell the Machine to fuck off with its games until you catch sight of the number in question exiting an apartment.

You'll never forget that face; wrinkled with age, but still with that ever present unimpressed scowl on her face.

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your whole body tensing at the sight of the one person you haven't seen for over a decade. The one person who always pushed you to your limits. The one person who didn't give up on you even when your heart turned into stone from your father's passing.

You've got to be kidding me.

"Maman."

long time no see

Chapter Summary

Part 2.

Chapter Notes

Not particularly happy with how this chapter went. This was really hard to write, so apologies if it was disappointing! Will respond to your comments tomorrow (I'm too damn sleepy to function.)

Thanks for reading!

"Maman."

As soon as you say it, the familiar rush of anger comes through you, and you can't help the growl that escapes your mouth.

"Is this a joke?" You growl, panting in anger as you continue watching your mom watering her plants outside. You almost chuckle at the predictability, if it wasn't for the Machine's fucking games.

(You always thought it was a habit she'd soon grow tired of, but here she is, still watering plants.

Once, you'd asked her why she insisted to keep the damn ugly plants around the house.

"I need some nice things to look at if I'm going to keep up with that sour look on your face," she'd said, and it was a lot like the pot calling the kettle black that the both of you had laughed the whole night.

It was one of those rare nights you'd seen your mother smile ever since the death of your father.)

"Sameen, I--"

"This is your best idea of a joke? You think you're funny, sending me to see my mom and--for what, huh?" You growl, your vision blurring as your anger eats you.

"Shaw, I sent you here because Anahita Afshin is really in trouble."

"Bullshit. You could've sent John instead," you snap.

Jesus, you really want to unplug the Machine right now. Everyday, you fight the urge to not see your mother, even when you know there's an ASI looking over your shoulder. It's not like your time anymore in the ISA, sure, but you've led a bad life. You're towing bad news with you, and you don't want to bring that to your mother -- it's not something for her to be proud of.

"Sameen, I'm sorry. I just thought--"

"You thought what, huh? That it's time for a family reunion? Jesus, you're supposed to be smart--how do you think would she feel if she found out the daughter she thought was dead is still alive?" You growl, and you're pretty sure if anyone's within the vicinity of the car you stole -- a sleek black Hyundai Veloster -- they can hear you from outside.

"I thought you'd want to be the one to save your mom. She really is in trouble." Fucking idiotic robot overlord. "She really misses you. I watch her everyday, and she's really proud of you. She'd be happy to know you're alive."

"Shut up. Stop talking," you grit through clenched jaw, trying to keep yourself calm but it's not working.

"Sameen, please breathe. Your heart rate's too high." Jesus, and the damn thing keeps using Root's voice. God fucking damn it.

"Stop using her voice! Shut up!"

Silence. The only thing you could hear is the sounds of your pants and the thud-thud-thud-thud of your heart in your chest. You don't remember the last time you've felt this angry.

"I'm sorry, I could call in John right now, or even Lionel to take over. I'm sorry, Shaw, but please breathe."

"It's too late for that, idiot. You said it was imminent," you snap, feeling angry tears pooling in your eyes and wiping them away just as fast. "How could you bring me here and tell me my mother is in trouble, and expect me to leave it at that? Fucking Christ. You're an idiot for an ASI."

Damn Machine. And damn whoever it is planning to murder your mom. How dare they? You've done everything to keep her out of trouble by staying away, and now she is and you have no choice but to save her.

You get out of the car, and immediately, the Machine buzzes in your earpiece.

"Wait, Sameen. You might do something rash."

You growl. "You should have thought of that before playing your fucking games."

"Shaw--" you pull out your earpiece and throw it down on the ground, crushing it, before heading to the alleyway to get another view of your mother -- somewhere well hidden from her.

-

Root wakes up from her nap with a buzz in her ear, and thinking that Sameen's hurt, she sits up right away, wincing at the kicks of her twins.

"Is Sameen okay?"

"I'm afraid I've done something really terrible."

Root frowns, feeling herself panicking. "What is it?"

"Sameen's fine. She's not hurt," the Machine assures her, and it relaxes Root a little. "But she's angry. I advice to tread lightly when she comes home."

"Did something happen?" Root asks, worried.

Her cochlear implant continues to buzz, but she's met with silence, knowing it's the end of the conversation.

The Machine almost never tells her this because Shaw being angry is a normal occurrence. Whatever it is, it isn't for usual reasons. Something about this makes her gut twist.

Without thinking, Root grabs her phone and types in a text.

Can you get some milk for Sander on your way home?

She goes for normalcy, not wanting to tell Shaw that the Machine has ratted out on her again. She bites her lip as she waits for her wife's response, watching as the clock ticks. One minute. Two minutes. Three--

Ok

Root sighs. At least she knows Sameen is fine and still alive if she's texting back. She only hopes that whatever it is, she'll come home to Root and let Root take care of it for her.

-

It turns out whoever wants your mother dead hired seasoned hit men to kill her. Not long after you'd found the backyard of your mother's apartment, they'd arrived in the same alleyway.

You'd tried cloning one of their phones during the short time before their ambush to know what it's all about, but it took too long, and you'd been busy shooting kneecaps left and right.

You're down four men groaning in different places, and you would've shot the last one down to get it all over with had it not been for your mother going out of the backyard to check what the fuss was all about. You'd let off a warning shot before the last hit man could take a shot at her, prompting your mom to get back inside the house, the bullet ricocheting off the steel screen door.

"Damn it."

You probably have a minute or two to get this over with before the cops arrive. You would know if you still had the Machine whispering in your ear, but you don't really regret getting rid of your earwig. You only hope Skynet's doing its best to cover the calls.

The only way for you to lure him out without your mother seeing you is to regroup; make him think you've retreated. And like always, it works. 10 seconds later, you watch from behind one of the neighbors' cars as the last hit man comes out from his hiding place, looking around him as he makes his way to the steel door. When you see his body relax, you make your move.

With silent footsteps, you approach him from behind and reach him just as he tries to pull open the door. You jump on his back and wrap your arms around his head for a headlock as he turns away from the door, trying to push you off of him and managing to throw you over his head to the floor.

You stand up quickly and kick him to the head, hitting him right on his ear and making him lose his balance as he falls down to the ground. You straddle his hips and punch him on the face for good measure, his eyes rolling back as blood spurts out of his nose. You grab the collar of his shirt, your face inches away from his.

"Who hired you?" You growl under your breath, feeling irritation rise up to your chest when he looks at you with an evil smirk.

"I won't tell you nothin'," he slurs, and you punch him again for that answer. "That all you got?"

You smirk. "I'm glad you asked." You pull out your gun and stand up, shooting him on the knee, before pressing down on it with your foot.

He screams, and you have no choice but to muffle it by putting the collar of his shirt on his mouth, clamping down on it with your hand.

"You gonna answer me now? Because I don't really care if I have to kill you." He nods, frantic eyes begging you to spare his life. "Try anything and the next bullet will be between your eyes."

His eyes widen, before nodding frantically.

"I--You have to understand. I have a family--"

"I. Don't. Care. I need a name," you growl, pressing down on his knee when he doesn't speak.

"Okay, okay! Senator Andrew Garrison! He has a harrasment case and he hired us to kill the victim's witness!"

You pull away, punching him on the face to knock him out just in time for you to hear the steel door of your mother's back door open behind you. You put your hood up quickly to hide your face, tensing as a strange feeling overwhelms you, knowing your mother is a few feet away from you.

Shit.

You walk, ready to bolt out of there and disappear.

"Wait." Your mother says in the same old accented English she used to speak in, making you stop dead in your tracks.

You close your eyes. You never thought you'd missed it until now.

"Who are you, child?"

You bite your lip hard, tasting blood on them as you take another step forward -- another step away from your mother -- but stop when a familiar hand clamps on your shoulder.

The strange feeling in your chest intensifies and suffocates you, and just as you're about to run away, she turns you around. You don't know why you let her, but you put your head down when you're face to face.

It's too much. Why does it feel like you're the one who lost her, and not the other way around?

You feel her hand removing the hood of your jacket, and not long after, you hear her chuckling. The sound makes you frown, looking up to see her uncharacteristically torn between chuckling and crying.

"Of course you only show up when you have no choice but to save your maman."

Your frown deepens. "What do you--"

"I always knew you were alive, Sameen," she says, and this time she sounds like she's about to breakdown from the happiness you can see reflected in her eyes, but she's holding it back -- like she always has because she knows you'll never understand. The thing is, you do now. Sort of. You think it's what you're feeling now anyway.

You shake your head, feeling lost. And before you can voice out your question, she chuckles again, wiping away her tears, but a new set pools in her eyes again.

"Nothing hurts you, azizam."

It's been a long time since anyone called you that -- and the last time someone did, it was around the time you told her you'd be joining the Marines.

You don't know what to say to that. Part of you wants to say how much you wish that were true: you've had a lot of close calls over the decade, more so recently with your fight with Samaritan. You can actually feel now -- or you always have, but now you've learned how to listen to them -- but not as intensely as they do.

The thing is: you feel now. You've always believed the same thing -- that nothing hurts you -- but now, that's not true anymore.

The realization is enough to suffocate you.

You blink, walking away. "I gotta go."

"Where do you think you're going, child?" She admonishes you, hands on her hips. "I don't see you for 12 years and you try to escape?" She exclaims, but there's mirth in her eyes and a bit of playfulness in her tone. She knows you're suffocating. "You haven't even given your old maman a hug. Honestly, azizam, did I teach you to be so disrespectful?"

You scowl, groaning. "Maman..."

You're not the only one who isn't fond of public displays of affection. If not for your sociopathy, you got it from your mother. She rarely showed you affection -- your father was the affectionate one -- but that didn't mean she didn't care for you in her own way; she did.

She chuckles, approaching you before wrapping her arms around your shoulder. The effect is instantaneous; your traitorous body melts into your mother's arms, and before you know it, you're sighing, even when your hands remain at your sides.

"My stubborn child, always pretending you don't like things, no?" She says as she pulls away. You roll your eyes, but your lips tug a little at the sides. She walks back to the back door, gesturing for you to follow her. "Come. You will not go until you talk to your maman."

You groan. "Maman..."

"Is that the only word you know? I taught you better than that," she jests again, chuckling to herself, before leaving you in her backyard.

You look around, the last hit man still passed out behind you, before looking at the door. You sigh. It's not like you have a choice now, right?

As soon as you enter, you take stock of the house. It's averagely sized for one person. The design is simple, with the interior a mix of modern and antique design, and covered in white and brown. Aside from your mother's plants, the antique collection of plate glass that you never understood the point of, and the pictures of you and your father adorning the place, everything else is simple.

You follow the familiar smell of green tea your mother always used to brew and find yourself in a kitchenette with a small dining table in the middle, where your mother sits, pointing to the chair across from her.

You take the seat, shrugging of your jacket as she pours you a cup, passing it on to you. For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room are the shouts from the neighbors outside and the odd sips from you and your mother.

You relish the silence; if there's one thing your mom understood, it's your need for it, and you know the offer of tea and the silence is her way of making you comfortable. It's working.

You put the cup back down on the plate, and she does the same, opening her mouth, but you cut her off.

"I'm not telling you anything until you tell me why a certain Senator Andrew Garrison sent 5 men to kill you. What did you see?" You ask, and she mocks offense.

"You think I care about other people's business, Sameen?"

You roll your eyes impatiently. "Mom."

She sighs. "It's nothing important. You've dealt with it, and for that, I am grateful, child."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer you're getting," she retorts with a raised eyebrow and you back down, grumbling to yourself as you scowl at her. She chuckles. "It's not as important as knowing what my daughter has been up to. So?"

You shrug. "So?"

She sighs, exasperated. "Sameen, do you still not have friends? Because if that's the case, I'm no longer surprised. You have always been independent."

"I have friends," you reply, and you don't know why you sound defensive; you're telling the truth, anyway. Bear is a close friend, right? And well, okay, Harold, John, Fusco, Zoe and Gen are, too.

She raises her eyebrows at that, and you roll your eyes.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, azizam. You were gone for 12 years, what have you done?"

Killed people to save the people of the good ol' U S of A. And then met people who made you save people instead. Had a dog. Met a perky pyscho. Got her pregnant. Got yourself psychologically tortured. Killed an ASI. Raised a kid. You say all of these things in your head, but you shrug and choose to deflect.

"What have you done?" You ask, and you're really curious to know.

She gives you a knowing look -- a look that says she'll get you later for trying to deflect -- before sighing. "Bought myself this apartment after I received the pension from your death. I still help out in the hospital. Same old."

"Yeah? What's it now, Doctor...?"

She chuckles. "I am not married, azizam. No one can ever make me love like your father did."

You nod, sipping from your tea before pouring yourself another cup. You understand. Somehow, you think, it's the same for you for Root.

It's silent again, and your mother breaks it a few minutes later.

"Are you ever going to tell me about that ring?" She asks, and you tense, almost dropping the glass from your hands. Shit. You're wearing your ring. She chuckles. "Oh, come on, Sameen. You're not even going to tell me about him? Or her?"

As if prompted, your phone vibrates inside your jeans' pocket, pulling it out to see Root calling.

For a while, you debate whether or not you should take the call or ignore it. But then again, it's Root, and it's always going to be important.

"Answer it," your mom says, and you scowl. No one orders you around. Not even her. She chuckles at the realization, rolling her eyes. You clear your throat, looking away as you answer the phone.

"Root," you mumble under your breath, not wanting your mom to hear your side of the conversation, hearing Root sigh in relief on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Sweetie. Just wanted to check in," she says, and you can hear Sander giggling on the other end of the line. "Sander, baby, I'm not a canvas."

"But momma look good!"

Root tuts playfully. "This is going to take a long time to clean up, Sander."

"Washy washy later!"

You find your lips tugging up in a smile when you hear their playful exchange. Suddenly, you already know why Root's calling. She wants you to clean her up so both of you would end up having sex. Typical.

"Not doing what you're asking for," you say with a chuckle, and you can hear her pouting on the line.

"Fine," she huffs. "How's the number?--Come on, baby, eat your dinner first then you can draw on momma again."

"Okay!"

You chuckle, before you hear someone clearing their throat. You look up and see your mom waiting with a smirk on her face.

You clear your throat. "Uh, I'll tell you about it when I get home."

Your mom's eyebrows rise at that, her smirk widening, and you know you have no choice but to tell her now. You shake your head exasperatedly at her as you hear the end of Root's question.

"...alright?"

"What was that?"

"Is everything alright?" She asks, sounding worried.

You grunt. "Be home soon."

"Okay. Don't forget Sander's milk!" She hangs up, and you put your phone away, but it buzzes before you can do so.

You open Root's message and you're immediately met with a thumbnail of what looks like Root covered in different colours of crayons on her face sporting a playful pout, while Sander grins beside her, with the caption: This is the reason why I didn't want you to go earlier.

You chuckle, but your mom clears your throat, making you choke and clear your throat -- but instead of coming from across you, it comes from behind you.

You look behind you and find your mom looking at the photo with a fond look on her face.

"Uh, sorry."

She chuckles, getting your phone from your hand. You scowl at your hand for not gripping your phone tighter, before standing up.

"This little boy looks like you. Is he my grandson?" She asks, and you've never heard her voice sound more fond and in awe than it does now.

You nod, and she smiles.

"And is she the one?"

You snort. "Don't make it sound cheesy. I'm not in love with her," you lie, but feel yourself flushing from the neck up.

Your mother chuckles. "Mhm, of course you're not." You scowl, and she sighs, a serious look taking over her face. "I'm happy you found someone, azizam. I always worried that you were going to end up alone. Who would keep up with that sour face and attitude of yours, no?"

Despite yourself, you chuckle. "You make it sound like I'm terrible."

"Because you are, azizam. She must be one of the smart ones, yes?"

You shrug. "She's a nerd, yeah."

"She has to be if she has to keep up with that stubborn smart tongue of yours."

"Give me that." You roll your eyes, groaning and swatting your phone out of her hand. "I'm going," you huff.

She chuckles. "Oh, don't be like that, Sameen. You have to make me meet them."

You scoff, but inside, you'd like nothing more for your mother to meet Root. Or vice versa. But you know it's something you have to talk about with Root. She's done her best to keep you out of uncomfortable positions, and it's only right you do the same for her -- even when you know she'd like to.

"Do I even have a choice?" You say instead, and she rolls her eyes, shooing you away playfully.

"Go. I've had enough of this attitude of yours. But I expect you to show up, azizam. If you even think--"

"Yes, maman," you cut her off with a sigh, shrugging on your jacket. "I'll text you." You're pretty sure you can have Root hack into her files. Or Harold. Or that damn Machine for putting you in this position in the first place.

"You don't even know my--" she stops, rolling her eyes playfully as she huffs, "Nevermind. You and your secrets. Just like your father."

You chuckle, already making your way out the front door. You're about to push it open, when you stop and turn back, seeing your mother smiling at you. You return it.

"I'm glad you're okay, maman."

She smiles, almost tearing up. "I'm glad you're alive, azizam." You turn back to the door, hearing her final words as you leave, "And don't you try another one of your disappearing acts again, Sameen. I will find you!"

You roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself, before making your way home, feeling drained all of a sudden.

You're already unlocking the door to your apartment when you realize you weren't able to buy Sander's milk.

"Fuck."

You've been distracted and startled by the overwhelming feelings that had surfaced during your conversation with your mother that you forgot Root's request. At any other day, you would have gone out to get it, but you want nothing more to get into bed.

-

As soon as Root catches sight of Shaw, she immediately knows that something is wrong. There's a thoughtful look on her face, and the fact that she forgot to buy Sander's milk is a plus.

Root watches her from the couch, seemingly feeling like she's in a trance herself as she watches Shaw drop her gun on the coffee table, before dropping beside her on the couch. Root doesn't initiate contact, knowing that whenever Shaw is in one of her moods, physical contact is something she dislikes.

To her surprise, Shaw initiates, dropping her head on Root's shoulder, burrowing them on her neck as one of her hands travel to her bump, before sighing.

Root frowns at the behaviour, but hugs Shaw closer to her. "Sameen?" She prompts, Shaw only tightening her hold and burrowing further on her neck as she sighs.

Whatever the Machine had her do today, it definitely did a number. She's going to have a conversation with her about this, but first...

"Did something happen with the number?"

Shaw sighs again. "T'was my mom," she mumbles under her breath that Root almost doesn't hear it.

"What?" Root squeaks. In all their time together, not once did Shaw mention her parents even in passing. Immediately, she worries that something went wrong. "Is... Is she okay?"

God, no wonder she got mad at the Machine if that's the case.

"She's fine," she says, a bit tersely, before she pulls back to smile at you. "She wants to meet you and Sander."

Root's heart flutters at the revelation. She doesn't know what to think of; doesn't even know what she's reacting to. If her heart is jack hammering in her chest because Sameen told her mother about her, of it's because she's nervous about meeting her mother.

"Root? You know we don't have to if--"

Root shakes her head, cupping Sameen's cheeks. "No, it's not that, Sameen. I want to meet her. I'm sure Sander would. It's just--" she shakes her head, the information finally sinking in to her as she smirks. "I can't believe Sameen Shaw is taking me to see her mother. Who would've thought?"

Sameen rolls her eyes. "Jesus, I swear you two would get on like a house on fire."

The information only makes Root's chest lighter, beaming in excitement.

"I can't wait to see your baby pictures, Sameen. I wonder... do you look grumpy in them like you always do, now?"

"Don't even dare," Shaw growls, and Root chuckles at her expense.

Deep inside though, Root can't believe this is happening.

B1, B2, B3

Chapter Summary

Just a fun short chapter similar (or a bit similar) to somethingpunny's prompt (which I won't specify) before we move on to possibly the last chapter before Root's birth (PLEASE! HAHA).

"That's mine, Shaw."

You look up, smirking at him as you raise your hand and shoot at the number's knee without looking. It doesn't take long for you to hear what's grown to be a familiar sound to your ears; the thud of a body on the floor and the groan of pain. Only this time, it's accompanied by a chorus of whines from the little friends you've had to rescue today.

Reese almost looks like he's going to roll his eyes at you but instead, he shakes his head at your showing off, before tucking his gun at the waistband of his trousers.

"Who says you have a say in this, Reese?" You do the same, raising your eyebrows as you make your way to the chorus of whines. "How about let's let our little friends decide who they want to go home with?"

The whines turn into a colourful chorus of barks as the dogs -- a bunch of German Shepherds -- woof their agreement, all of them wagging their tails with their tongues lolled out of their mouths as they look at you. You smirk, you already know you're getting the dog you want today.

Reese sighs beside you, shrugging like he has no choice, before bending down and calling out his favourite (which also happens to be yours) -- the one he's already named Buster.

"Hey, Buster."

The German Shepherd in interest tilts his head at the name, looking between you and Reese, its tail seemingly wagging with more speed as he makes his decision.

Reese gestures for him to come over. "Come on, Buster. Come here."

Buster stands, sniffing the ground as he cautiously makes his way to Reese, still looking between you and him.

Apparently, the Machine likes Bear to the point of giving you numbers that need you to rescue dogs. But there's also a part of you that knows this is robot's way of apologizing for surprising you with your mother. You're pretty sure it's the only reason why Root had willingly let you go this morning, when she'd all but fought with the Machine all the other times she'd sent you out to deal with numbers.

You had rejected the number at first, telling the Machine that Reese could handle them. But Reese had to call you himself to convince you.

"Shaw," he'd said by way of greeting through the phone. "Wanna come?"

You'd sighed. "I already said no to the Machine, Reese."

"Yeah, well, I think you're going to regret it."

You'd snorted.

"No, really. You're missing out on a chance to rescue another Bear."

That had caught your attention, frowning. "You saying we're rescuing trained dogs like Bear?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Shaw."

You had never dressed as fast as you did after Reese confirmed it. No one hurts Bear, or any dog for that matter.

As soon as you had arrived at an abandoned factory downtown and caught sight of all the trained dogs that were apparently either being used by rich assholes for illegal underground dog fights or by being sold off to the fuckers who see them as food, Buster had immediately caught both of your attention.

Averagely sized, a bit thinner than Bear, he'd been calm during your raid, looking on with inquisitive eyes and only attacking at the right time.

Since then, you and Reese have been staking your claim on him.

Buster stops walking just as he's two feet away from Reese, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes, before looking at you again, and then looking back.

"Come on, buddy. I know you want to come home with me," Reese urges him, patting his knee, Buster's tail wagging in excitement.

Damn it. Reese is getting him.

"You don't want to come home with her," Reese points at you, and you raise your eyebrows. So this is how he wants to do it? "She already has another one like you, and I don't have one. That's not fair, is it, Buster?"

The dog looks at you as if to confirm, and you roll your eyes.

"Really, Reese? You're going to play dirty?"

"Not playing dirty. You already stole Bear from me," he says, indignant.

You scoff. "Excuse me? Bear likes me more than he likes you."

"I seem to remember Lionel saying Bear's the only one who likes you in the group," he retorts, smirking, unintentionally giving you more ammo.

"Apparently, Bear's not the only one," you say with a smirk, referring to Root.

He frowns. "She wasn't even part of the group yet."

You sigh, losing your patience. This isn't really the point. You're talking about Buster, for God's sake.

"Just--get him, Reese. Get him if he really wants you," you scoff, before bending on your knee, smiling at Buster. "But I don't think he does, do you, Buster buddy?"

His ears go up and his tail wags faster that it almost looks like it's about to detach from his behind, his feet moving forwards and backwards, as if stopping himself from walking towards you.

Ha! Hook, line, and sinker.

You give a smirk Reese's way, before looking back at Buster.

"Come here, buddy!" You pat your knee, and immediately, Buster trudges forward to your direction, making you fall to your ass as he licks your face, whining in happiness.

"That's cold, Shaw," Reese huffs with a sad frown on his face, looking like a kicked puppy. "You cheated."

You roll your eyes. Such a child. "I didn't cheat. I didn't even do anything."

His frown deepens. "I saw him first. I'm the one who brought you here."

"What can I say? Even dogs can't resist my charm," you say, chuckling as he frowns at Buster. "Besides, there are plenty of other dogs in here for you to choose from," you mockingly gesture towards the herd of dogs waiting in one corner with one hand, watching you and Buster in interest as you continue petting Buster with the other.

Reese sighs, acquiescing, looking at the dogs. You follow his line of sight and see one at the back of all the other overeager dogs. Both you and Reese have similar tastes, and so you won't be surprised if Reese chooses that dog.

He walks forward, making his way to the back just like you'd guessed, bending in front of the dog in interest. You see the dog's tail wag, before you hear Reese murmuring something under his breath. Soon, he's standing up with the dog walking beside him, looking up as if waiting for his master's next words.

"Who's this?"

Reese looks down at the dog, before looking back up at you. "Meet Bruno."

You sigh, exasperated. "Seriously? We're really going to have all the dogs' names start with B?"

"Can you think of something better?" Reese challenges you, and you roll your eyes.

"It's your dog, Reese."

He shrugs before looking back at the rest.

"What are we going to do with them?"

You smirk, having an idea. There's no way for sure that you're leaving all of them here.

-

"Good boy!" You say, patting your leg to bring Buster back to you as he brings back the ball you just threw over the other side of the subway.

As soon as he puts the ball down on the floor, you hear the gates to the subway open, uneven footsteps following soon after.

"Oh, dear..." You hear Finch's signature exclamation, before his footsteps becoming louder and louder with every step. "What the..." You look up, and see Finch with a horrified expression on his face as he looks at Buster, Bruno in Reese's arms, and the 10 other dogs you had to bring over to the subway. "What on earth happened? What is this?"

You and Reese look at each other in panic as Harold's face turns red with every second, looking at the both of you with accusing eyes. He opens his mouth, but before words can come out, another set of footsteps comes over your general direction.

"Jesus! Why does it smell like a fuckin' zoo here?" Fusco exclaims, stopping when he sees the herd of dogs looking on in him in interest.

Harold huffs. "I'm wondering myself, Detective Fusco. It seems Ms. Shaw has something to say."

You scowl. Why do people automatically think it's your fault?

"Why me? Reese has a new dog, too."

"No offense, Maybelline, but you're the only one who can get dogs to come with you--Superpowered Nutball aside," Fusco says, chuckling, making you roll your eyes.

"I figured you and Finch would want to choose your own K9 before we bring them to adoption centers." You shrug, Finch sighing as he scratches his head in exasperation.

"I appreciate the thought, Ms. Shaw, but couldn't you have called me to inform me about this... impulsive decision before turning the subway into a dog farm?"

"We figured we could surprise you, Finch," Reese pipes up, and you look at him in relief for finally contributing.

"Yes, but I would rather see all my equipment intact, Mr. Reese."

You light up. "No one has touched anything they shouldn't touch. Right, boys and girls?"

Woof! All of the dogs bark in agreement, Fusco chuckles and Finch sighs.

"No thanks, Ms. Shaw. I'm quite contented with Bear, and now...?"

"Bruno and Buster," you supply.

Fusco chuckles. "What's this? B1, B2, B3?" You and Reese scowl at him, but doesn't take its usual effect as he only chuckles further. "Jesus. Remind me not to trust the two o' you crazies in the creative department."

Finch's brows furrow at the names, before shaking his head. "Yes, well, I'm sure the three of them will be quite handful enough, thank you. Now," he says, looking at all the other dogs. "Should we take them to their respective adoptions, please?"

-

You get home a little past midnight, having travelled to the farthest places in New York to drop off the K9s in different adoption centers scattered around the state.

You sigh, unlocking the door and gesturing for Buster to come in. Bear comes bounding in soon after from your room, making you wonder what Sander and Root had been up to the whole day.

Bear approaches Buster cautiously, and Buster looks up at you as if to confirm if he's an ally. You nod, gesturing for them to do their thing, and soon they're both smelling each other's behinds. It doesn't take long before both of their tails are wagging, biting each other and barking playfully.

You chuckle as you watch the both of them get along, only stopping when Root clears her throat. You look up at her and see her with her arms crossed at the banister, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

"Really, Sameen?"

"What?" You shrug, looking down at him. "He's trained, don't worry."

Root rolls her eyes, exasperated and playful at the same time. "I mean, did you really have to add our kids? We're already expecting twins and you add another?"

"Exactly, Root. I need another four-legged companion if I'm going to keep up with the twins. I can't just leave them unprotected, can I?"

She smirks, looking at you with heart eyes at the sentiment, before shaking her head and sighing. "Oh, Sweetie, you're really making it hard for me not to call you cute."

You scowl, but end up smiling anyway when she approaches you and kisses your cheek.

"But seriously, Sam, you could've told me about this."

You shrug, suddenly feeling sad at the possibility of having to let go of Buster. You're only just starting to warm up to him. "I can take him back if you really want?"

"Not what I meant. You can keep him, but maybe next time tell me?" Root tilts her head, looking at you with a soft smile you can't help but return.

You kiss her lips. "Okay, Root."

She smiles before introducing herself to Buster, while you and Bear watch on with interest. You with a smirk and Bear happily panting beside you.

slow comfort

Chapter Summary

Prompts: slow, tender sex (anonseven), and false labor and Shaw talking to Root's bump to sooth the twins' kicking (Alexandria Groves).

"Stop moving."

You hear Root sigh beside you, before the sheets rustle as she tries to settle herself again. You count to 10, no longer trying to get some goodnight's sleep with all the moving Root is doing, and right on time, Root moves again, whimpering silently.

You sigh, before rolling to your back to your side facing her, hand landing on her bump that's too hard and moving at the same time.

It's been like this for the past week since Root reached her 8th month; she's been having contractions left and right especially at night, so much so that she's been having trouble sleeping, and by extension, you as well.

(Once, you were at the grocery with Sander, when Root had suddenly stopped and groaned, holding onto her belly.

"Sameen, I... I think I'm--"

She'd looked so much in pain that you'd immediately forgotten about the steak you were waiting for, thinking that she was about to give birth.

You didn't even bother getting all the groceries. You'd grabbed Sander and dragged Root gently along with you to the car, taking her to see Dr. Ramirez.

It turned out to be a false alarm; Root's dilation had only been 1cm, her contractions 30 minutes apart and mostly only happening during mid afternoon and night.

You and Root had been relieved to know that the twins weren't coming out premature, but later that night, while experiencing one of her contractions, Root held on tightly to your hand as she confessed.

"This is harder than the missions, Sameen."

You'd chuckled, brushing away the hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead. "Just a few more weeks, Root."

"I can't wait for this to be done. I miss shooting kneecaps... Or tasering people," She'd said through gritted teeth.

"There's no way in hell you're going back to doing the missions after you give birth." You'd narrowed your eyes at her, and she'd had the gall to pout at you, making you chuckle.

"Sameen..." She'd whined, but you'd only kissed her, trying to comfort her through the pain.)

You hear her whimpering again, making you sigh as you sit up from bed. You might as well try something that might potentially help Root get through the night.

"Shaw?" Root whimpers.

"I'll be back," you're quick to reassure her, squeezing her hand before making your way to the walk-in closet, opening one of the hidden drawers and retrieving the oil you've been meaning to use.

You sit down beside Root, whose face has already scrunched in pain. You lift her shirt up, open the bottle of oil, and apply enough amount on the palm of your hand, before applying them on her belly. Immediately, Root's whimpers lessen, her eyes looking at your hands curiously.

You smirk. "Feeling better?"

"Have you been holding out on me?" She says with an affectionate smirk, making you chuckle as you continue caressing her belly.

"It's warming oil. Figured it would calm the twins down."

"It's helping," she sighs, closing her eyes in relief. "Keep going, and then maybe you can let your hands travel further south after that," she purrs, her breathing starting to even out from exhaustion, and you chuckle. She's insatiable.

"Sleep, Root. We can do that tomorrow." It falls on deaf ears as Root finally succumbs to sleep.

You soften your movements on her belly, smiling when you feel movement inside.

"Hey," you whisper, and then frown, suddenly feeling stupid for talking to unborn twins. But as if reassuring you that they can hear you, you feel two kicks at the same time that makes you wonder how Root even sleeps through this. "Easy. Your mom needs to get some sleep."

The kicks lessen, but they continue to move inside as you continue to caress Root's stomach.

"You two have to take it easy, alright? You need to stay there for a few more weeks, so you two'll be healthy. Got that?" Two kicks are what you get, making you chuckle. "Good, now stop moving and giving your momma a hard time." You settle yourself down with your head beside Root's bump. "Good night, kids."

It doesn't take long for Shaw's breath to even out, Root's teary affectionate smile unbeknownst to her as she falls asleep.

-

The first thing you come to is the feeling of your stomach clenching from a pleasurable sensation coming from the southern region of your body. Next, the warm wetness surrounding your cock as it bounces up and down. Third, the whole thing registers to you as you open your eyes and look down to see Root in an awkward sideways position to accompany her bump as she gives you head, her eyes alight with mischief and seduction when she sees you looking at her, deepening the suction.

You feel yourself reaching your full erection as your hips arch involuntarily from the pleasure that erupts in your groin, making you close your eyes as you place your hand on Root's head to slow her down.

"Jesus, Root. What's this for?" You groan, and she hums, the vibration sending all of the blood running to your groin, feeling yourself about to come.

She releases your cock with a wet plop, smirking at you. "Just a little reward for being the best wife ever," she purrs, before enveloping your head in her mouth, her tongue poking at the tip as she sucks you, your hips arching up in response.

"Oh, God. Jesus Christ. Oh, fuck, yeah," you can't help but gasp as she sucks more of your length, before her head bounces up and down your shaft. That and the way she's looking at you as she does it... So hot. "Fucking hell."

She deepens the suction as she goes down your length, the tip almost at her throat, before going back up again. Her moans and the explosion of pleasure are enough to push you over the edge, feeling all the blood accumulating in your groin.

Not wanting to come in Root's mouth, you sit up and push her head away just in time for you to come. She doesn't fight you this time and sits up, watching as your cock continues to jerk in her hand as you release.

"Fuck..." You sigh, lying down and panting from the experience. Until now, you still don't know how Root can turn you into a panting mess even with you not doing anything. She's the only one who's ever made you feel satiated and overwhelmed at the same time.

"God, Sameen. That was so hot," she purrs from below you, and your already softened cock twitches in her hand, making her smirk. "I'm so wet just from watching you come like that, baby."

Fucking hell.

"C'mere," you growl, pulling her up as she straddles you, surprised to find that she's not wearing anything under her sleep gown, moaning at the feeling of her wet arousal on your shaft.

"Mmm..." She moans, grinding her pussy on your hard shaft, back and forth, the feeling making your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

"Jesus, Root. You weren't kidding. You're wet," you grunt as your hands find purchase on her hips, guiding her as she grinds and bucking your hips up.

"Mmm, fuck, Sam. You feel so good like this," she moans, and you can't take it anymore. You need to be inside her.

"Root..."

"Shhh..." She grabs your hands, intertwining it with hers as she takes control of the pace. "Patience, baby. I wanna do this slow."

Slow. You can deal with that.

"I can't feel you from here. Need to feel you," you whine, tugging her down with you to the bed.

She obliges, lying on her side to your left as you lie down on your left side, positioning yourself behind her as you wrap your arm around her torso, one hand holding on to her shoulder, the other you use to line up your cock on her entrance, bucking back and forth as you collect her wetness on your shaft.

"Sameen, please. I need you inside me," she whines, bucking her ass back to your crotch for contact, her hand wrapping around your head placed on her shoulder.

You line up your cock on her entrance, pushing forward and wrapping your other arm around her to anchor yourself. You thrust forward slowly until you're fully sheathed inside her, feeling her walls fluttering around your shaft.

"Root..." You gasp, the sensation on your cock making your stomach clench, looking up to see her already looking at you with dilated eyes full of want, need and affection all in one.

You find yourself transfixed as you look back, getting lost at the intensity of Root's eyes as both of you pant from the pleasure. You used to drown in all the feelings reflecting in them, but now, you swim in it. The intensity of it makes you lean forward as you catch her lips, your height difference making you bury your shaft deeper inside of her as you reach for her lips.

Root moans as her lips lock around yours, making you deepen the kiss as you pull her further into your arms. She pulls away after a while to catch her breath, her lips touching yours as she looks back up at your eyes.

"Sameen..." She breathes out, her eyes pleading you to take her, and you do.

Slowly, you pull out your length, before burying yourself slowly inside of her, Root meeting your thrust with the buck of her own hips. Together, you build a rhythm, continuing your ministrations as you stare each other down.

You're both quiet except for the occasional moans from Root when your cock touches her g-spot and groans from you when she clenched around your length, both of you lost in each other's eyes as your bodies connect.

"Shaw..." She breathes out just as you feel her clenching tightly around you, knowing what she's asking for.

You thrust in a little faster, enough to increase the friction for her as she clenches tighter and tighter, feeling your groin getting full as you near your release, one of your hands travel down to her centre, playing with her clit.

"Fuck, yes, right there," she moans, her hand around your head pulling you closer, which also makes you bury yourself deeper into her. "Mmm, fuck Shaw, I--I'm gonna..." You pull out until only the head of your cock is inside her.

Root whines in protest, "Samee--" you give her one hard thrust, "oh, fuck!" She screams, quivering in your arms as she comes, her walls clenching and unclenching around you as you continue to thrust in and out, pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck, Root..." You groan, your cock jerking inside her tightly clenched walls, still with your eyes locked against each other.

The love you see in Root's eyes overwhelms you, and you reach up and catch her lips in yours, Root deepening the kiss with a moan as both of you try to pull each other closer, her hand fisting around the hair at the nape of you neck. You pull back after a while to catch your breath, your lips a hair's breadth away from hers as you look back up to her eyes, and the feeling that overcomes in your chest makes you feel lighter and fuller at the same time.

"I..." You say, blinking, only now realizing you've opened your mouth. You feel like you want to say something, but you don't know what exactly. But Root only smiles knowingly at you, eyes full of love and affection. Somehow, she always knows.

You've found that to be one of her annoying traits when you first met her. But with every meeting, every fuck, every walk in the sidewalk after missions, you've found it's one of the things you've appreciated the most about her. As a sociopath, you're not good with words; you never were, so to find someone like Root who doesn't need your words makes you feel really lucky.

Now, you have a kid with her, and you're expecting two more. It's still not your ideal life, but then again, everything about your life right now isn't ideal, but you like it anyway. You think, all in all, you wouldn't have it with anyone else but her.

"I love you, too, Sam," she says with certainty against your lips, and you peck hers again softly.

Both of you pull away with you pulling out of her, whining at the loss of contact around your shaft before sighing and lying back down. She lays her head on your chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths from your earlier activities.

You feel your eyes drooping as Root's breathing even out on your side, both of you succumbing to exhaustion when you feel Root suddenly freezing.

Your eyes open immediately, looking down at her. "Root?"

"Sam, fuck, I... I think they're coming out already," she groans, clutching her belly.

"Are you sure you're just not having contractions?"

She shakes her head frantically, one of her hands squeezing your arm for emphasis, making you wince as you feel a different wet texture on your thigh. "This feels different," she says through gritted teeth.

Well, shit.

the more the merrier (?)

Chapter Notes

This chapter honestly felt like I was writing one of those 10k worth of words. It was THAT difficult to write. I'm not really pleased, but figured you'd appreciate what I would upload anyway. It's been long enough and you guys deserve this for being so nice!

(Do yourselves a favor and don't read the end note. Don't spoil yourselves.)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

She's okay. They're okay.

...right?

Damn it.

You stand up, pacing around the hallway as you wait outside the OR for Root and the twins to come out.

You don't know how you ended up here and it's stressing you out. None of this is supposed to be happening; Root wanted a normal delivery and she's only on her 35th week -- Christ, the twins weren't supposed to come out yet, but now here you are, waiting for Root's C-section operation to be done. And the worst thing about it isn't even how early the twins are coming -- because really, if you think about it, 35 weeks is already an average length for a twin pregnancy like Root's.

(Everything had been fine this morning until Root had tensed from her contractions, and everything went downhill from there.

You'd brought her to the hospital as soon as you'd seen the wet texture on your thigh, calling the boys (and your maman, after some hesitation on your part because they had yet to meet) about Root's situation.

Fusco had been the first one to rush from the 8th precinct, telling you as soon as you'd seen him in the hospital that he would take care of Sander and the dogs. From there, Dr. Ramirez met you, taking Root to the delivery room once she'd checked that Root would have no other choice but to take the twins out if her contractions continued. And they did.

You'd stayed alongside her the whole time, trying to provide comfort to Root who would normally smile her way through discomfort because she's a fucking psycho like that -- she lives in them -- but this time, she hadn't been smiling, which rattled you to no end.

"Jesus Christ, Root. You trying to amputate me?" You'd said with a light hearted tone when Root squeezed your hand tightly as she endured another contraction. She'd been having them frequently since this morning after you had sex, and they were already 10-15 minutes apart.

"Of course not, Sweetie. I like your fingers where they are," she'd purred, before her eyes clenched and body tensed as another contraction hit her. "Fuck, Sameen," she'd groaned through gritted teeth, panting from the exhaustion. You wiped away the sweat pooling on her forehead with your free hand. She gave you a pained smile. "I think they take after you with all this kicking."

"That's better than taking after you."

"That's not nice, Sam."

You chuckled just in time as Root moaned in pain, louder than she had in the past five hours. This caught Dr. Ramirez's attention, immediately checking Root's centre for her dilation, your eyes widening when her gloved hands pulled away with black texture. Immediately, you felt the hard thudding of your heart inside your chest, your mind running a million miles as you thought of all the possibilities.

"Shaw?" She'd asked from the bed, seeing the look on your face. Before you can reassure her she's okay, the nurses around her move in sync as they started the preparation, Dr. Ramirez rubbing soothing circles on Root's shoulder as she looked between you and her.

"I know I promised I'd try my best to give you a normal delivery, but I'm going to have to bring you to the OR and cut them out of you right now."

Root's lips wobbled. "Are they okay?"

"They're stressed, but they're fine for now. A normal delivery isn't ideal at this point," the doctor explained.

"Sam?" Root looking at you for a second opinion, fear etched in her eyes.

You nodded, knowing Dr. Ramirez was right, and squeezed her hand reassuringly, leaning down as you whispered, "you and the twins will be fine, Root."

"Okay," she'd said her voice shaky, and then as if realizing this, she cleared her throat, nodding. "Okay. Do it, doc."

Dr. Ramirez nodded at the rest of the staff, all of them whisking Root off to the OR. As soon as you exited the delivery room, Fusco and Sander stood from their seats, Bear and Buster standing up in attention as they see Root being wheeled off, worried eyes following the movement.

"Momma?" Sander asked, voice shaky as he ran towards the bed, trying to get a hold of Root's hand and resulting in all the nurses stopping.

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, making him stop and look up at you with a pout. You nodded to Fusco to follow Root with the dogs, before kneeling down in front of Sander.

"She's fine, kid. The doctor's are just going to have to take the babies out another way," you explained without having to scare him.

"Are they okay, mama?"

"Your siblings are fine. They will be. Okay, son?" You pressed, wanting to believe it yourself. So many things could happen in multiple pregnancies, but you trust Dr. Ramirez with Root's and the twins' lives.

Sander nodded, and you took it as your cue to follow the nurse that had stopped and waited to point you to the right direction with your son's hand in yours.

Naturally, with Dr. Ramirez's knowledge of your medical stint (Root is a fucking blabber mouth, as usual), she invited you into the OR to watch and hold onto Root. It had been okay at first; the nurses and Dr. Ramirez were all precise in their movements -- not too hard, not too soft, not too fast, not too slow -- and they had already injected Root with anaesthesia.

"We're starting. Are you ready to meet your twins?" Dr. Ramirez had said when she appeared by Root's side.

Root's eyes widened, her heart rate beeping double time as it spiked. You knew then she was feeling nervous with how tight she had been holding on to your hand.

"You have to calm down, Root," you'd said, squeezing her hand back even if it hurt.

"I--I just want everything to be okay, Sameen."

You kissed her forehead instead, finding yourself speechless. Root's heart rate spiked again, making you frown and look at her. But what you saw only made you chuckle, Root blushing and looking away from you.

"That happens all the time?" You'd asked, a little smug at Root's reaction.

"There's more if you want to find out," she'd purred, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. Unbelievable. She sighed, "Can we get on with it already?"

"Don't worry. We'll do it as fast as we can. Your twins will be fine," Dr. Ramirez had piped in from Root's other side.

And that had been that before they started the procedure.

It was smooth sailing at first. You and Root had been trading insults back and forth just like old times to get her mind off the operation, until Root's eyes had started drooping, which wasn't even supposed to happen. She needed to be awake. But you thought nothing of yet, opting to brush it off with a chuckle.

"I know you're losing, Root, doesn't mean you can sleep it off."

She smirked, mumbling something incomprehensible. That was when you frowned and started hearing the alarming fall of Root's and the twins' heart rate.

"Root?" You'd said, trying to shake her out of it, but her eyes only closed. You wouldn't forget the panic you'd felt then. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Her heart's collapsing!" You heard someone shouting, your eyes widening.

"Root?" You'd tried to call her out, reaching for her and shoving aside all the nurses trying to push you out of the OR. "Root!"

You didn't know what happened next; all you knew was you were trying to get to Root, and the next thing you knew, you were already outside the OR where you've been pacing around the hallway for the past hour and a half.)

"Shaw," you hear Reese's gruff voice and silent footsteps, getting you out of your thoughts, turning around to see his usual pristine suit in a mess, Harold by his side, both of them panting. "Sorry. Got here as fast as we could."

You nod. You don't know what to say to that except you're thankful. You know John probably wants to rest -- Harold, too -- but the fact that they're here means a lot. You wouldn't be caught saying that to them.

"Any news, Ms. Shaw?" Harold asks as he removes his hat from his head.

You shake your head, frustrated, as you resume pacing back and forth in the hallway. You can feel the team looking at you with weird expressions on their faces -- even Sander is looking at you like he's seeing a new side of you. You can't blame them; you're never fazed by anything, but this situation has you tied up in knots that you can't stop fretting.

"What the hell is taking so damn long?" You grumble under your breath.

As if prompted, Dr. Ramirez comes out of the room with a smile on her face, feeling the rest of the team gathering around you. That should be a good sign, right? She sighs, almost sounding relieved.

"Two healthy baby girls. Congratulations!"

You sigh in relief, hearing the boys around you doing the same, patting you behind your back while Sander grabs your hand, squeezing it.

"Can I see?" Sander asks from beside you excitedly, Dr. Ramirez kneeling down to his level with a tired smile on her face.

"Of course, but only through a window because we have to put your sisters inside an incubator first so they could be healthier," she explains.

As if on cue, a cart with two swaddled babies inside -- one of them crying their lungs out, the other letting out silent sobs -- exits the OR, pushed by two nurses. Already, you know they're yours and you can't take your eyes off them. You can feel your feet wanting to follow them, but something stops you, and then you remember Root.

"What about Root?" You ask, trying to look behind her, but failing to see anything beyond. "Is she okay?"

"She's okay. We got her heart beating again after it collapsed. But..." She pauses, her brows furrowing as she looks at the boys around you.

That can't be good. But you'd rather she become straight forward about whatever it is Root is in.

"Just say it," you say, losing your patience.

She sighs. "We couldn't stop the bleeding of her placenta during and after we got the twins out. She's lost too much blood. We had to perform an emergency post-partum hysterectomy. I'm sure as a doctor yourself, you know what that means. I'm sorry, we did everything we could."

You nod, knowing Dr. Ramirez wouldn't have performed a hysterectomy if it wasn't necessary. Still, you don't know what to feel about that. It's not as if you and Root ever planned to have kids in the first place; both instances being accidents. But for some reason, you already know Root's not going to like it.

Whatever, you think with a sigh, all that matters right now is that she's alive and the twins are fine.

"Where is she, doc?" Fusco asks.

"Can we see her?" Reese adds.

"She's in the recovery room, but we will be transferring her soon to room 41F. The rest of your family can visit her then while Sameen here visits the twins," she says, turning to you with a smile. "I can take you there right now. I'm afraid hospital rules only allow the parents to see the child up close."

You feel a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see Reese smiling at you.

"We'll be with Root and the dogs until you and Sander come back. Congrats, Shaw."

"Yes. My heartfelt congratulations, Ms. Shaw. I can't wait to meet your twins," Harold adds with a smile, which you return, nodding your thanks.

"Hope they don't turn out to be like Cocoa Puffs or we'll have some trouble I'm already not looking forward to," Fusco says, all of you chuckling. He shoos you off, "Go. See your kids. We'll be with Cocoa Puffs then."

So you do. The next thing you know, you're inside the nursery, wearing a gown and mask as you look down at your twins inside the incubator -- watching, staring -- feeling full in your chest.

You never understood people when they say that a new born looks like one of their parents. To you, they've always looked like a tomato. But now, you understand why they insist; your twins look a lot like Root -- like she fucking impregnated herself, that's how uncanny it is. You're pretty sure you have a huge grin on your face, but you don't care. Root would be happy to know that the twins look like her.

One of them cries. You suspect it's the same one a while ago, making you chuckle as you reach for her hand through the hole, your touch immediately calming her down.

"Hey," you say. "I'm here, kid."

The baby coos, making you smile. You reach out for the other baby, who coos as well from your touch. You didn't even know it was possible for someone else other than Root to make your heart beat; to make you feel like you're just like everyone else when you've always believed you were different. But now you have Sander and the twins in addition to Root, and the familiar surge of protectiveness rises in you. You'll do anything to protect them. Anything.

You don't know how long you stay there for, holding on to your twins -- wondering if this is how Root looked like as a new born, imagining Root's reaction -- until you feel a pat on your shoulder.

Dr. Ramirez smiles. "Visiting hours are over. You can visit them again tomorrow if you wish."

You nod. You of all people know the necessity of following hospital policies. They weren't made for nothing.

"How long are they going to stay here for?"

"I'd like to keep them here for a week. Run some tests, see if everything is as fine as it seems. Just to make sure you get out of here with healthy twins."

You nod, looking back at your twins one last time before leaving with Dr. Ramirez.

As soon as you get out, you hear Sander's voice.

"Momma says I look like mama. But mama says I look like momma sometimes."

Frowning and wondering who he could be sharing this to, you turn the corner as fast as you could, and then immediately relax when you see the culprit.

As if sensing you, Sander turns his head and looks at you, lighting up and running towards you.

"Mama, look! I saw your mama!" You chuckle, lifting him and hoisting him on your hip as you make your way to your mom who has a huge smile on her face.

You roll your eyes, making your way to Root's room, maman following close behind.

"I see you've already met Sander."

Maman shrugs. "What was I supposed to do, azizam? Disturb your time with your children when your child here is perfectly capable of holding a conversation?" She asks with a teasing tone, making you scowl at her. "I assume he got that from his other mother, no? You were never a conversationalist. And I'm glad you put manners in this one. Not like you."

"Maman..." You groan, rolling your eyes. You're too old for this chiding thing she's got going. "How'd you know where I was?"

"By asking, of course," she says. You have to roll your eyes at the sarcasm. There's no wonder where you got it from. "Well, three fine gentlemen pointed me to this direction, all of whom your son tells me are your friends."

Sander giggles in your arms. "Why maamaan bozorg talk funny?"

Your eyes widen in surprise, looking up at your mom who only shrugs like she didn't have anything to do with it. Have you been in there with the twins long enough for her to teach him how to call her?

"It's an accent, kid. People have that when they're born and live in other countries."

He frowns. "Accent?"

"Yeah. You'll understand soon enough," you say, putting him down on the floor once you reach Root's room. "Ready to see your mom?"

He grins. "Yeah!"

"Be gentle with your momma, alright, kid?"

"I know, mama," he says, before disappearing inside the room as you close the door behind him.

"What's wrong, azizam? Am I not invited here?" Your maman asks with a cheeky tone, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

You roll your eyes. "Take it easy on her."

Maman mocks offense, hand on her chest. "Why, you make me sound like I'm a horrible guest, child."

"Maman," you snap, making her chuckle. "I know you. You'll ask unnecessary questions."

"Of course, I will. She married my daughter. I deserve to know who in their right mind decided to do that and have kids with her," she says, chuckling to herself, making you shake your head in exasperation.

"Just take it easy, okay, maman?"

She sighs, rolling her eyes. "Loud and clear, Sameen."

You don't waste your time opening the door then, wanting to see for yourself how Root is doing. As soon as you enter the room, you see the boys standing scattered inside the room, Bear and Buster standing on each side of Root's bed, while Sander is lying beside Root. All of them are chuckling while Root stops mid-chuckle and grins when she sees you.

"Hey, Sweetie. Did you miss me?"

You chuckle as you walk over to her, leaning over her so that only she and Sander can hear your inquiry.

"You okay? It was a bit touch and go there for a while."

Root nods, smiling gently as she takes one of your hands. "Sorry. How are they?"

"Two girls. They look like you," you say, chuckling when Root grins. "God, I don't know how to handle two more of you." Both of you chuckle at that.

You hear your mother clearing her throat behind you, Root's eyebrows rising in question at the unfamiliar sound, making you roll your eyes. You stand up and move aside, Root's eyes widening when she sees who's behind you. You're about to introduce them when you feel Root's hand connecting on your shoulder with a loud whack!

"Ow! What was that for?" You grumble, scowling at Root who's now wincing in pain from the effort while the rest of the room chuckles. "Jesus. You're an idiot. You shouldn't be moving too much."

She fists your hoodie, pulling you in as she hisses, "You didn't tell me your mother was coming. I look like shit, Shaw. I could've prepared better."

"Yeah? Like do your make up while giving birth? Curl your hair more?" You retort sarcastically in a whisper. "It doesn't matter, Root."

"It matters to me! She's your mother, Shaw!" She hisses back.

"Do they always talk like this?" Your mother's inquiry sounds through the room before you could even reply, making you stand up straight, Root's hand falling down by her side.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely, Mrs. Shaw. You haven't seen anything yet. They're both a bunch o' crazies," Fusco replies, chuckling.

Mrs. Shaw? You facepalm yourself, shaking your head. Fusco is one clueless dunce. You see Reese elbowing him for the mistake, Fusco grumbling back, clueless. Thankfully, your mother looks like she's going to let it slide as she stands beside you, looking between you and Root.

"So? Are you going to introduce your wife?"

You clear your throat, looking at the boys. They get the message, and immediately say their goodbyes. As soon as they leave after giving you their congratulations, you clear your throat again.

"Maman, this is R--"

"Samantha, but you can call me Root. It's nice to meet you...?" Root cuts you off, making you scoff.

"Ah, I see my daughter neglected to tell you about me," maman says, huffing in amusement when Root's gulp sounds through the room, which makes you chuckle. "Anahita, child. I see you're into computers, if that's where your name came from?"

"Uh, yes, I--yes, definitely. I'm definitely into computers," Root stutters, making you chuckle. This is the only time you've only seen her not sure of herself.

"Ah, Sameen wasn't kidding when she said you were a smart one, then?" Root looks at you to confirm and you roll your eyes playfully in return. Anahita huffs, impressed as she nods. "I'm glad my azizam found you, dear Root. If she hadn't, I don't think she'd be able to raise a child as well-mannered as Sander, no?"

"I don't know... Sameen can be really sweet sometimes." You scowl at Root for that. Did she have to say that?

"Oh? Such a shame she doesn't know how to care for her mother!" Anahita exclaims playfully, Sander and Root chuckling at her. You scowl at your mother.

"I saved your ass, maman."

"And you let me think you were dead for years, azizam."

"Mmm, Sameen has a habit of doing that," Root hums, eyes dancing in mirth.

You scowl. Indignant. "Hey, that wasn't--"

"But I think your daughter is perfect the way she is," Root adds, cutting you off.

"Well," your maman exclaims with a clap, walking to Root's other side and grabbing her hand. "I don't know of anyone who will think that way of my Sameen. I always thought it was impossible. So thank you, azizam. Anyone who can love my Sameen for who she is, is also family."

Root's eyes water at the acceptance, making you roll your eyes amusedly. What a sap.

"Thank you, Anahita."

"Oh, heavens. Please just call me maman, okay?"

Root cries tears of joy, you and your maman sharing a glance and a chuckle.

"Why are you crying, momma?" Sander asks sleepily from her side, Root hugging him to her.

"Your mom's a sap, that's why," you say, Root pouting at you from the bed as you and your mother continue chuckling.

"Don't listen to her. I'm just happy about your siblings and your grandmama," Root says, sniffing back tears.

Sander, at the mention of his siblings, seems more awake as he lights up, sitting up beside Root's head. "Names, momma!"

You and Root look at each other at the same time. You haven't talked about names, except that one time in Hawaii where you told her not to make you regret it. You're still willing to trust her with the names of your girls.

"Root?" You prompt, Root raising her eyebrows.

"Are you sure?" She asks, and you nod in return. "I--I wanna call them Hanna and Ada."

Hanna and Ada? That's not half bad. Not half bad at all.

Chapter End Notes

Initially, I planned from the beginning (yes, BEGINNING) to have the twins come out as one boy and one girl. But then most of you wanted two girls, so I gave in (albeit, hesitantly. lmao). The name Hanna, of course, came from Root's dear friend. And Ada from Ada Lovelace, sometimes considered (or really regarded as) the first computer programmer. Got this from reader AlienMachine (thank you!!) and someone else suggested (sorry, i couldn't back read that much to know who you are, but thanks!) naming the other one with one of their fallen comrades, in this instance, I chose Hanna.

Please let me know what you think! I know I haven't been able to get back to you guys for the last 2 chapters (I've been really busy and tired), but I want you all to know that I appreciate and love all your comments! They're probably the reason why I still get to write this story, so thank you! <3

domesticated sociopath

Chapter Summary

Just a short interlude (?) from Root's perspective about Shaw.

Chapter Notes

I have a few chapters left in mind for this. If you still want me to continue, y'all drop in your prompts! It will be REALLY helpful. I'm getting dry with ideas already. Haha. Thanks, guys!

In the past 2 weeks since Root, Hanna and Ada have been released from the hospital, Sameen has been the best partner Root could ever ask for.

The last 2 weeks would've been harder if Shaw wasn't there with her -- which, if Root thinks about it, is the situation she would've imagined if someone told her before that Sameen would impregnate her twice. While Root had been mostly misanthropic all her life -- thanks to the Machine, Harry, Lurch, Lionel, Sameen and her kids, that's now part of the past...well, slightly part of the past -- there were few times in between hacking, destroying the reputations of and killing (for) corrupt personalities that Root wished a normal life for herself. Even then, she knew her life was never going to be normal, and that was something she'd long accepted and was okay with.

The thing is, Root's pretty sure Shaw never thought of those things; never let herself imagine what was normal for her simply because it wasn't up her alley and she knew it wasn't going to happen, which was a life Root knows Shaw had no problems living in.

Sometimes, Root catches Shaw shaking her head in disbelief ever since the twins arrived; as if she can't believe how she ended up domesticated with a wife and three kids. It still feels surreal to Root herself; she still has a hard time believing that she gets to see and be with this side of Sameen, much less with a Sameen who's willingly doing all of this of her own volition -- because she wants to and not because she was forced out of a sense of responsibility.

Root has to remind herself that Sameen is a sociopath often because of how good she is with her and the kids, even when the words are rarely spoken by Sameen. Her ability to connect emotionally even when it's not really in her is something that Root will always appreciate.

(Root would never forget the day after the birth of the twins. She'd been having a great laugh with Sander goading the dogs to play dead, when Sameen had cleared her throat on the chair beside her bed, indicating she'd wanted to talk.

"What is it, Sweetie?" Root'd asked, smiling when Sameen looked like she was hesitating. Whatever she was going to say was important enough to make Sameen hesitate -- which she never did.

"It's about yesterday," she'd said, pausing.

Root suddenly felt nervous, and it was obvious that Sameen knew because she'd reached out for her hand and squeezed it immediately to reassure her. Root knew that she'd almost died yesterday giving birth, but the specifics were yet to be explained by Dr. Ramirez -- even the Machine -- which she'd already suspected had something to do with Shaw.

"Tell me," Root'd told her.

Shaw had sighed, and then softly explained, "Your heart collapsed before they got to the twins, but they were able to get you back right away. And then they couldn't stop your placenta bleeding, so they had to perform a hysterectomy to save you."

Root's eyes closed of their own accord. Deep inside, she thought she already felt that something felt missing besides the obvious bump of her stomach that she'd been carrying around for 8 months.

She never planned to have kids. She dreamed of it, maybe even let herself imagine what could've been if her life wasn't fucked up from the get go, but she didn't plan them, much less to have them with Shaw. But for some reason, the news made her heart sink to her stomach, feeling tears pooling in her eyes.

She wiped at the tears right away, frustrated that it was getting to her this much. So what? She told herself, you never even planned to have kids in the first place and now you have three, so why are you crying?

"Root." You heard Sameen calling out for you, and you could hear the concern in her voice.

You refused to look her way, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, but it was useless.

"Root, look at me."

And Root did, but her lips wobbled with the threat of more tears, making her close her eyes until she felt Shaw's hand cupping her cheek, wiping the few stray tears that escaped. She'd opened her eyes and found Shaw looking at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Sorry," she'd said, making Root frown. She didn't know why Shaw was apologizing. It wasn't her fault. "I know we didn't plan all of them, but, uh, you know, I like where we are."

"I know." Root shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying."

"It's okay, Root," she'd said, squeezing her hand, and then smiling a little. "The good news is you still have your cervix. Sex is still on the table. That's not so bad, right?"

And that had been the end of Root's sadness, chuckling at Sameen's sly way of cheering her up.

"I can't wait, Sweetie," she'd purred, returning Sameen's smirk. Sameen had kissed the back of her hand in return.

Later that day, when Root had finally been able to fart and poop -- a requirement the nurses, Dr. Ramirez and especially Sameen had told her was necessary -- they visited the twins together for the first time.

As soon as Root caught sight of them, she stood up from the wheel chair, Shaw immediately assisting her as she broke down in tears.

Inside the incubator, there were two little girls holding onto each other as if the other was a lifeline; two little girls who looked exactly like Root. The nose, the shape of the head, the mouth...

She couldn't help herself but reach for both of their hands, both twins crying at the touch of their mother. Shaw started chuckling beside her, especially when it was very obvious one of them was more of a crier than the other.

"You know," Shaw'd started as Root continued crying tears of joy, "I think the noisier one really takes after you."

Root'd chuckled in between tears. "That's definitely Ada."

Shaw'd snorted. "Of course the noisy one has to be named after a nerd."

"Didn't know you knew the reference, Sweetie," Root'd teased. "Does that make you a nerd, too?"

"Shut up," Shaw'd grumbled. "See if I'll help you with the twins if you call me nerd one more time."

"Nerd," Root'd teased, Shaw shaking her head, but the little tug of her lips wasn't lost on her.

Safe to say Shaw didn't follow through with her threat like Root already knew she wouldn't.

Shaw took responsibility for changing the diapers of the twins even without Root's say so, especially in the middle of the night. She'd also insisted that Root pump bottles of milk for Hanna and Ada in case they get hungry in the middle of the night -- it has worked wonders since. For a whole week, Root would have 5 hours of sleep thanks to Shaw. She'd tried talking Shaw out of it, but Shaw had only cut her off.

"You did the hard part. Let me do this, okay?"

"But Sweetie, you can't lose sleep all the time. I should be the one losing sleep," Root'd reasoned with a pout, but that had been the end of the argument.

That didn't mean Root didn't stay up some nights. But Sameen's hands-on role with Hanna and Ada definitely helped lessen the load. Root thought it was one of the reasons why it worked -- why they worked.)

Root sighs, smiling as she lays down Hanna and Ada on Sander's old crib after letting them burp. She watches them fall asleep with a fond smile on her face, satisfied from her milk, when she hears giggles coming from the restroom.

Amused and curious, Root makes her way there, walking through the walk-in closet, and stopping on the door when she finds the culprits.

She chuckles at the scene before her, leaning herself on the door frame and shaking her head in disbelief.

In front of her are Sander and Sameen peeing at the same time, Sander standing on the rim of the toilet with a huge grin on his face.

As if sensing her, Shaw looks at Root's direction, smiling.

"Hanna and Ada okay?"

"They're sleeping. What are you kids up to?"

Sander looks up when he hears her voice, grin widening when he sees Root.

"Hi momma! Look!" He says, pointing at their members.

Root chuckles. Ever since they explained Shaw's situation with Sander, Sameen has been more open about it. Root's thankful that Sander has been nothing short of amazing and accepting about it, shrugging it off as if it was no big deal.

She sighs. "Just make sure the two of you shoot that inside the toilet. I'm not cleaning after the two of you."

Sander salutes -- a real fucking salute that Root's sure Sameen taught him. "Yes, momma!"

Sameen and Root share a chuckle, until they hear the cries of Hanna and Ada. Root sighs, ready to get them and change their nappies, when Shaw tucks her member in and makes Sander do the same, before carrying him down on the floor.

"I'll take care of it. Stay here," Shaw says, kissing her cheek, before fleeing out of there.

Root can't stop herself from smirking at Shaw's domesticity. Who knew they would end up here?

It doesn't take long for Hanna and Ada to quiet down -- again, thanks to Shaw.

new beginnings

Chapter Summary

Several prompts included in this short chapter. (If it's yours, hope you like it!) Someone suggested I do a chapter where I answer the reason why Sameen's mother's number came up, which I apparently wasn't clear about. This also contains Sameen watching Root breast milk Hannah and/or Ada, and a conversation between Root and maman.

Chapter Notes

As always, thank you for the lovely prompts! I appreciate them. Keep them coming if you have more!

"Wanna taste, Sweetie?"

You roll your eyes, smirking as you watch Root breastfeeding Hanna in Root's obnoxious room in the subway. You don't know what it is about watching Root do this, but it's fucking relaxing -- and you find yourself not realizing sometimes that you can't blame Root for even making a silly offer.

"I already know what it tastes like," you say absent-mindedly, not even realizing what you've just said may be misunderstood as you focus on Hanna until you feel a resounding smack on your head.

You look up at Root from your lying position on the bed to her seated position against the wall, scowling.

"What the fuck?"

"Whose breast milk did you taste?" Root growls. "I don't remember feeding you mine, Shaw."

Oh, you think, and then roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of it.

"It's nothing, Root. It tastes nothing."

"Whose. Milk." She grits through her teeth, and you shrug.

"Just some random I hooked up with when I was still in the Marines," you say, Root narrows her eyes in doubt. "What? It's true," you say. "I didn't even know she just gave birth until I sucked her tits."

"Let me guess: you didn't listen and talk to her," Root says, smirking knowingly.

"Why would I? There was nothing to talk about. Just a good fuck; no muss, no fuss."

Root sighs, shaking her head in amusement.

"What?"

"Nothing, Sweetie. I just feel lucky I got to marry you," she says with a doting smile on her face.

Sap. You roll your eyes, smirking. "You bet your skinny ass you're lucky."

"Ms. Shaw, are you there?"

You stand up from the bed and make your way to Root's makeshift door, careful not to push aside the cloth too much as you make your way out, surprised to see Harold standing so close with a worried frown on his face.

"Finch?"

"Sorry, Ms. Shaw. But we have a number--it's an old one," he says, slowly, and you roll your eyes.

"Please tell me this isn't Leon?"

"Fortunately, it isn't, Ms. Shaw, but worse: it's your mother," Harold says, and your body immediately goes to full alert.

"Goddamn it," you growl, making your way to the weapons cabinet. You knew this would happen again; you should've taken care of Senator Andrew Garrison when you already had the chance.

"Ms. Shaw?" You hear Harold's crooked footsteps behind you as you're tucking in a knife in your boot, an extra Beretta Nano in your ankle, and your Heckler & Koch USP Compact at the waistband of your black jeans. "Do you know who the perpetrator is?"

You turn around. "Get me everything you can get on Senator Andrew Garrison. E-mails, text messages, everything. Including whatever fucking case he's in on."

Shocked by the sudden onslaught of orders, Finch nods frantically, "O-of course, Ms. Shaw," he stammers, and then firmly, "You should go. The Machine told me it's imminent."

You scoff. Of course it fucking is. You make your way to the exits, but you stop when you hear the familiar clicking of Root's boot heels following behind you.

"Root," you grunt, turning around, coming face to face with your wife who's wearing a blue loose t-shirt, leather jacket, black skinny jeans and 3-inch heels. You look at her up and down with a raised eyebrow. "You're not coming."

"You need back-up."

"No, I don't. Just stay with the kids. I'll be back as soon as--"

"Too bad, Sweetie. The Machine says I can get you there faster by 10 minutes if I drive you there by motorcycle," she cuts you off with a smirk, making you growl. Some fucking help the Machine is.

It's been 6 months post-partum for Root, and technically she can already do the missions. But you'd rather she stays with the kids instead -- you know she has a tendency to be reckless at times, and you can't have that. But then again, you guess this time it isn't too bad -- she'll be your back-up, and both of you work well together anyway; like a well-oiled machine.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. "Fine, but none of that reckless stupid shit you used to pull off or I'll shoot your ass myself."

She chuckles, encircling her arms around your shoulders and pecking you on your lips. "That's really comforting, Sweetie."

"And you're only back-up, got that?"

Another peck.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" She gives you a sloppy salute which you bat away with an annoyed huff, moving past her and shoulder checking her as you make your way outside to Root's motorcycle, hearing her chuckling behind you, grumbling to yourself how you can't always say no to Root.

-

With Root's help (and the robot in her ear, of course), it doesn't take long for the both of you to take down two batches of hit men sent for your mother. According to the Machine, there are more coming, and your maman still insists it's nothing you should be worried about as soon as you told her what you and Root had to do -- which annoyed you to no end.

Apparently, you'd pressed maman hard enough for Root to banish you from the kitchen with one look, shooing you off and telling you to cool down and watch out for more intruders.

You've been pacing around the living room as you hear Root and maman's hushed conversation from the kitchen, feeling really impatient for some action and news from Finch. It's been 10 minutes since you neutralized the first two batches; you would've expected the next to come soon.

You press the earwig to open the comm line. "Finch? Anything?"

"Several, Ms. Shaw," he says, and you can hear the rapid typing on his keyboard. "Safe to say Senator Garrison is a man not to be trusted. Not only is he facing a case of sexual harrasment, where Mrs. Afshin is a witness, but he's also siphoning millions of dollars from a charity called Feed the Children."

Huh, figures. No wonder he really wants your mother dead. Too bad you're eager to let the opposite happen.

"What about e-mails and text messages?"

"Well," there's a pause, and you think Harold sounds a little smug about what he's going to say next. "I have enough to make the Senator resign. By sending these information to the right authority--"

"No, send them to me," you say, a plan forming in your head, smirking.

A pause.

"I beg your pardon, Ms. Shaw?"

"Send them to me. I'll take care of it."

"I understand the temptation to deal with the situation given the circumstances, Ms. Shaw, but need I remind you that we do not--"

You roll your eyes. "Don't worry, Finch, I won't kill him," you say, and then pause. On second thought... You smirk. "If he plays his cards right and I feel charitable."

"Ms. Shaw!" Harold exclaims, clearly aghast, before you hear him sigh. The next thing you hear is the buzz of your phone. "I've already sent them to you. Please remember why we're doing this, Sameen."

You close the comm line, no longer in the mood for more lectures from Harold, walking into your maman and Root in the middle of... You groan, taking huge strides to the table and closing the damn scrapbook.

Both parties look up, stopping mid-chuckle.

"Really, maman? Your life is in danger and you show my baby pictures?"

Maman shrugs. "Is it so bad I want to share my pride and joy to her wife?"

You roll your eyes, scoffing.

"But Sameen," Root squeaks -- actually fucking squeaks -- and grins. "You look so cute! Look," she shows you her phone's screen with Sander's baby picture, "you looked exactly like Sander!"

Despite yourself, you swat Root's phone out of her hands, looking at a naked Sander grinning at the camera with chocolate smudges around his lips.

"And this is you, azizam. Like back to the future, no?" Your mother points to a picture of you in the same state and hair as Sander, except the smudges around your mouth are milk.

You smirk at the similarities between you and your son, but stop when Root's chair scrapes as she stands up, looking up to see a far-away look on her face. You don't need her to say the words, immediately drawing your USP Compact from the waistband of your jeans, marching to the windows and flicking down the blinds to see two black vans arriving.

You position yourself by the front door, one hand on the door as you lean back on the wall, looking at Root who has a manic look on her face, two guns at the ready. God, she's fucking hot.

"Cover me?" You ask, getting a smirk from her.

"Always."

You open the door and soon three bodies drop in quick succession, three more bodies drop with Root's help, leaving you with a chorus of groaning bodies on the floor in no time.

You look behind you to Root who has a smirk on her face, returning her smirk.

"Amateurs," you say at the same time, both of you chuckling. You've definitely missed working with her.

You look at your surroundings, making sure there's no one left, before making your way back to Root who's standing by the door.

"Take maman to the subway. I don't think they're going to stop coming."

She frowns. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to end this," you say with an evil smirk. "Go, take her to the kids. I know she'll love it."

You turn around, when a hand around your wrist stops you. You look back just as Root leans in for a kiss.

"Be careful, Sameen."

You nod and make your way to the Senator's pad in New York.

-

Root passes by Sander in his playschool on the way back to the subway, resulting to a delighted grandma and an even more delighted Sander.

After telling maman about his day in playschool, which he had done the whole ride to the subway, he's now lying on his stomach on Root's bed, giggling at the pictures of Sameen in the scrapbook Anahita brought with her, his eyes switching between the scrapbook before her and Hanna in front of him. Root can't help but smile fondly at the caring nature of her son.

Ada cries in her arms, Root immediately tries to shoot her nipples through her mouth, and before long, Ada's silent again as she feeds. In front of her, maman chuckles.

"Sameen rarely cried as a child. I thought something was wrong with her--the doctors, too, because she wasn't crying that much."

Curious, Root smiles, "what was she like?"

"The same, but less angry," maman says, a sad smile tugging on her lips. "She was easy to take care of; not fussy unlike other kids. But it got worse when her father died," she says. "It's like she became empty, yes? Like an empty can, she's there, but the feelings only echo."

Root nods; she'd thought of the same once when she was wondering what it was like to be Sameen.

"I tried several doctors, until one day Sameen got angry. I think she thought I thought something was wrong with her," maman continues, shaking her head. "I only wanted to help her. But as you know, she's a stubborn child--she doesn't want help."

Root chuckles in agreement as she unlatches Ada, positioning her head upwards and over her shoulder to help her burp.

"I can see now that isn't the case. I can see what she feels in her eyes when before they it was like staring into an empty void; like a radio with the volume at zero."

Suddenly, Root's mind flashes back to that time Sameen was drunk in Hawaii, when she'd mumbled something about being 'turned way up' when she's with Root.

"She did say that something was turned way up when she's with me," Root says with a thoughtful tone, only getting out of her daze when maman chuckles.

"It's her volume, azizam. You are her trigger."

Root's heart flutters in her chest at the thought, her lips tugging into a smile. Ada burps loudly in her arms, prompting Root and maman to chuckle as maman stands up with her arms open, asking to carry Ada. Root transfers Ada easily, maman handling her with expertise.

"Go on, child. Rest. I will look after my grandkids," Anahita says, and it's only then that Root feels the exhaustion overcoming her body as she lies down beside Sander and Hanna on the bed.

The last thing Root feels is a faint kiss on her forehead, and the warm feeling that spreads on her chest at the thought of having a mother she never had.

-

You scoff, clapping your hands together after dropping the last of the Senator's security surrounding his loft. Bunch of amateurs. You didn't even break a sweat.

You step over the latest body, entering the apartment, and you're immediately met by a sweaty, wide-eyed Senator who has a gun pointed at you. From a far, you can see that the safety is still on. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you walk around, taking stock of the apartment.

It's mostly sparse, but the furniture taking some of the spaces is obviously expensive. The apartment is obviously only used as a rest house to sleep in whenever the Senator is in New York. The lack of family pictures, which Finch had divulged that he had, tells you one thing: it's either he's not sentimental or he's a cheating prick on top of being a corrupt public official.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He screams, distracting you from your tour.

You turn around, mocking innocence, shrugging. "Don't I look familiar to you?"

He narrows his eyes, before they widen in realization, and then as if this is what he wanted to happen, he smirks.

"Ah, you think this is going to scare me? How many people do you think I have killed?" He answers.

"10," the Machine whispers in your earwig.

You snort. "I've killed more than 10 people. Your point is?"

He stammers, before recovering. "My point is, I won't let a nosy old hag destroy--" you cut him off with a shot to his knee, making him fall to the ground. "Fuck!"

You crouch down, making sure to keep one foot on said knee, squeezing as you lean down and show him everything you have on him.

"You're going to call your men off, or I'm going to spread every dirty little secret."

"Ms. Shaw?" Harold's voice comes through your earwig.

"Kinda busy here, Finch," you grunt, closing the comm line, squeezing the Senator's knees. "So, what will it be?"

"You won't do shit," he spits out, making you smirk.

"Watch me," you say, facing the phone to him, and showing him that you only need to push one button.

His eyes widen. "Okay, okay!" He holds his phone up, showing you the text calling off the hit, sending it. "There, I did it!"

Too easy. You chuckle, standing up, squeezing his wounded knee as a result, making him scream, before walking away.

"Wait! How do I know you're not going to spread it?"

You smirk, sending the information off to the NYPD, before showing it to him. "Oops. Looks like my thumb slipped."

"What? No! Come back here, bitch! Come ba--ah!" He screams when you shoot him on his other knee without looking, before closing the door loudly behind you, chuckling as you make your way back to the subway.

Mission accomplished.

-

Maman's asleep in the cot when you get back to the subway, Ada cuddled in her arms. After rubbing your hands on your daughter's back, you make your way to Root's makeshift bedroom, finding her, Sander and Hanna all asleep. You chuckle at the sight, sitting down at the edge of the bed, Root waking up at the movement.

"Sameen?" She mumbles sleepily, looking blearily at you.

"Hey," you say and you can't help but smile as she reaches out for you. You intertwine your hand with hers. "So I was thinking... I think it's time we move to another apartment."

Root seems more awake now, sitting up, disturbing Hanna in response who whimpers, while Sander remains asleep. You scoop her up in your arms, Hanna immediately relaxing as you shush her.

"Are you sure?"

You shrug. "Hanna and Ada need a room of their own soon."

Root nods, squeezing your hand. "What about your mother?"

"We'll have to find her a new place. There's no way she's living with us."

Root pouts. "Why not?"

"On top of the kids, do you really want this marriage to be sexless?"

She chuckles, nodding. "You've made your point. We'll just have to find her a place near ours."

"Think robot overlord can find a place for us?"

"She can do anything, Sweetie. Of course she can."

You smile, looking down at Hanna in your arms and Sander on the bed, before looking back up at Root. You can't help but feel that this is another accomplishment on your part -- for your family.

it was only just a dream

As soon as John looks at you, phone still on his ear, there's a part of you that already knows. But you hope that isn't the case -- and then when he shakes his head, confirming what you've dreaded 7,000 times while you were in the hands of Samaritan, and then you feel numb.

Actually, you think you feel a pang of ache in your chest -- a stinging, aching, drilling sort of pain -- before the overwhelming numbness envelops your chest that you forget that you felt what pain really feels like for the first time in your life.

Root's dead. Your safe place gone in the wind just like that, and the worst thing about it is you haven't even had the chance to tell her one more time what has been brewing inside your chest -- God, you love her, but you know she loves you more and she would've loved to hear that from you.

Already, you can imagine the devastated cries from Sander, Hanna and Ada, but you can't get yourself to feel for them because you're already numb. Besides, there's still a mission. You can worry about how to take care of your kids without Root -- which is impossible, really, but saving your employer's ass, Reese, and Fusco, they're your next priority.

You only visit her grave when you've finally won -- from what, you don't even remember anymore -- Reese, Fusco and Harold a few paces behind you, respecting your space as you look down Root's grave, while Sander, Hanna and Ada are crying as they hug the cross, all of you drenched in rain.

The worst thing about this is you can't mourn her like your kids are doing; mourn Root like she deserves to be mourned, because if there was a hero to call, it was her. She's the reason why you're all alive today.

"Sorry, Root," you hear yourself mumbling, shaking your head. "This just isn't my thing."

A hand squeezes your shoulder, you look back, but see nothing but feel wind. And then,

"Sameen..."

You blink. You know that voice, looking around for her.

"It's okay, Sameen."

You shake your head. It isn't okay. It's not fucking okay. And that's when you feel it, like all at once, your cold heart cracks, and you can feel the breaks all over your body.

"Root..."

"I'm here, baby. I'm always here."

"Root, I..." This time, you feel a tear drop from your eyes. The next thing you know they're dropping like waterfalls down your cheeks. God, you can't believe you're sobbing, and it has to be because of Root. "Root, please..."

"Sameen, it's okay. I'm here."

It's really not okay and she's not here. You shake your head more, and then, much weirder, you feel your body shaking along with it.

"Shaw, please!"

Root's cry makes you open your eyes. This time, you're no longer soaking wet under the rain, you're no longer hearing anything except heavy breathing -- which you only now know is yours as you look around and realize you're in the comforts of your room with Root's arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind you.

"It's okay, Sam. It was just a dream," she soothes, one hand running up and down your arm gently.

Yeah, a dream that has your volume turned way up, where Root's dead and you're alone with the kids and your friends. The feelings still linger, like you're the one who died and not Root -- and Jesus, this is such a complete turnaround from who you've always been (or who you thought you've always been), and you hate it.

You wrench yourself away from Root, feeling suffocated.

"Shaw?"

You pick up your tank top from the floor, eager to get away from Root, and before you know it, you're already outside your apartment -- Harold's almost empty apartment from the boxes of things you've already transferred to your bigger apartment -- panting and breathing heavily, feeling tears stinging your eyes.

The realization that you're crying again only makes you furious; a hot surge of anger rushing from your heels to your head, and all you want to do is to let it all out.

"Damn it!" You growl, punching the wall across from you over and over again, before you grow tired, your forehead and body leaning against the offending wall as you try to catch your breath, tears still freely flowing down your cheeks.

How can Root make you feel this way? How dare she make you feel, at all? Fuck. You punch the wall again, not feeling the ache of it yet as tears continue to fall down your cheeks.

You're not used to this -- this pain that's aching all over your chest, your body, your whole fucking existence. If this is how pain feels like, if this is what normal people feel, then fucking hell you're grateful you're a sociopath.

"It's not real," you mumble, trying to wipe out the remnants of your nightmare. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real."

For what feels like hours, you stay outside calming your breath, telling yourself it's not fucking real. It's only when you've significantly calmed down that you go back to the apartment, even then you avoid your room at all costs, sitting down on the couch. You're not sure whether you want to kill Root or fuck her senseless right now -- mostly, you want to kill her for making you feel this way; for making you feel at all.

Your alone time doesn't last long, however, and soon Root comes out of the bedroom, kneeling before you. You avoid her eyes -- it's her eyes, you think; chestnut orbs that reel you in and make you feel too much and too little at the same time -- looking anywhere but at her.

"Shaw, please look at me," she whispers, and she sounds so distraught that you sigh and hang your head in guilt, before slowly looking up at her. She gasps as soon as she sees your eyes, hands cupping your cheeks, wiping the few traitorous tears that fall down your cheeks. "Sameen..."

You clench your jaw, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her in as you bury your face on her neck, not wanting her to see you like this.

"Talk to me, please," she says, and you let out an involuntary whine, before clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth tighter.

"I hate you," you growl, and then as if it's the perfect opening you've been waiting for, you repeat it all over again. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," you say, but find yourself meaning it less and less, and find yourself meaning the opposite more.

Root, for her part, only pulls you in closer, shushing you softly in your ear, one hand on the back of your head and the other running soothing circles on your back.

"Fuck," you sigh, pulling away and angrily wiping at your eyes, before looking at her.

She doesn't say anything, but you can see worried chestnut orbs looking back at you. They're so expressive that you already know what she's saying. I don't know what happened, but I'm here, it says, and I love you, it says, I'll never leave you.

But you did, you answer in your head. You died in my dreams when I've been preventing you from doing so for more than 7,000 times and everyday of my life since then.

She gasps, tears welling in her eyes, and it doesn't take a second for you to realize that you said it out loud, looking away from her.

"Sameen, I'm not going to leave you. I'm here. I'm alive, and it's thanks to you," she says, her voice breaking, giving you a playful smirk. "You're stuck with me until we're both old and grey and the kids are all grown up sleeping with other people," she says, and that finally pulls a smile out of you.

"God, Root," you sigh, shaking your head in slight amusement as you look at her eyes. You don't want the day to come when you can't look at those damn mesmerizing eyes. Your safe place. "I can't lose you--God forbid I actually wanted you dead before."

You've gone a long way from where you started out with her.

She chuckles, blushing as she leans her forehead against yours, her thumbs making soothing caresses on your cheeks. "I'm here. You won't lose me."

You nod, finally feeling yourself relax as you soak in the words. She pulls away, standing up and grabbing your hands, pulling you along with her.

You follow her as she lays you down on the bed, wrapping herself around your back. Her body warmth is enough to get the nightmare out of your head as your body finally relaxes, until you let yourself fall asleep to Root's steady heartbeat and breathing.

samuel alessandro

Chapter Summary

Lots of prompts in this one! A little bit of jealous!Sander because we all know kids tend to do that, Sander/Shaw bonding, and Sander/Buster bonding.

If you're the one who suggested them, thank you for the prompts and I hope you like it!

Sander loves his mommies.

Some people in his new school tease him because he doesn't have a father. They call him a loser and gay, because he has gay mothers. He hates them and he really wants to punch them like mama taught her, but momma said not to because they don't know anything. He believes her.

The kids bullying him don't know anything because having two mommies is really fun. Sometimes, he wonders what it's like to have a father, but then he thinks about his mama and immediately rids of those thoughts altogether. His mama is enough, and he thinks she is the best father and mother he could have.

At first he was confused. How could a mother be his father at the same time? But mama explained that she was different. She was an... It starts with an I... an intersex, he thinks? He still doesn't understand that much what that word means -- mama says he'll understand when he grows older -- but he knows enough to know that mama is different and not like everyone else. And that's okay, he still loves her.

Sander thinks it's one of the reasons why the new kids in his new school bully him. They tell him he doesn't have a father figure, that he's going to end up gay (he doesn't understand what's wrong with being gay), but that's not true. He has Uncle John, Uncle Lion, Uncle Harry and Lee. They're just jealous because her family is big and they are all awesome, including Bear, Buster, maamaan-bozorg, Hanna and Ada.

He thinks his little sisters love momma and mama, too. Because they always cry and every time momma or mama holds them, they stop crying. That's love, right? Momma and mama used to do that for him when he was a kid. He still remembers that one time a strange, ugly man took him and his mommies saved him and made him feel better after because he loves them. He doesn't think other parents can do what his mommies can do, so every time the other kids bully him, he only thinks about that and he feels better.

But lately Sander has been feeling sad. He's really proud of Hanna and Ada, and he talks about them non-stop to the few kids (three) who don't bully him. Of course the other kids who bully him hear him talk about them -- he doesn't care -- but now they're saying his mommies don't love him anymore. He doesn't believe them. But ever since Hanna and Ada came, his mommies have been giving him less attention, and maybe they're starting to be right after all.

Once, when the sport he and his mama watch -- football -- came on TV, he tried calling mama from their bedroom. Mama followed him to the couch and they sat together there, with his head on her shoulder and mama's arm around his shoulder. And then he heard a ringing sound from mama's phone. He felt warm, tuning out mama's conversation because mama said it's bad to listen to other people's conversation, but mama didn't even last long until she left.

"Sorry, kid. I have to go. I'll make up for it later, okay?" Mama said.

He was sad, but mama never lied to him. He knew she would make up for it later so he nodded, and was left alone to watch the football game -- the guys in red won over the guys in white. At least his favourite team won.

But when mama came home, Sander had been excited, but mama only ruffled his head before walking straight to Hanna and Ada's room where mama spent a lot of time changing their diapers with momma. He shrugged. He understood -- he was a baby once, right?

But then even his momma didn't have that much time with him anymore.

Once, he'd tried to force his momma to wake up so they could do their morning ritual in the shower and brush their teeth together, but momma only slept longer. He was sad, but he understood; momma was tired from Hanna and Ada, that's why, right?

But momma (and mama) didn't have time for him anymore; they didn't help him take a bath anymore, they didn't brush their teeth together anymore, they didn't watch TV together anymore, because Hanna and Ada needed them more. His mommies still talked to him, but he noticed it would only last for a while before their attention was on Hanna and Ada again. He needed them, too, why can't they give him their attention?

He stopped trying when 7 days passed and his mommies were still busy with Hanna and Ada.

Now, after eating dinner -- even when it's his favourite and even when his mama offers to watch TV with him -- he goes straight to his room and lies down on his bed with Bear and Buster.

He talks to them all the time and he thinks even though they don't talk, their whining and barking means they understand. It seems silly to think about sometimes, but Sander thinks Bear and Buster understand him, so he doesn't mind. He loves them. He thinks they love him too because every time he's about to sleep, Buster lies down beside him and nudges his nose against his, while Bear lies down on his legs.

He doesn't mind. At least they make time for him.

-

When he wakes up the next day -- the day they're finally moving out to the bigger apartment he likes better -- he still doesn't feel better. But that only lasts for a while because the door to his room opens, looking up to see mama smiling slightly at him as she sits down on the edge of his bed.

"Hey," mama says.

"Morning, mama," Sander mumbles back sadly, still feeling sad about his mommies not having time for him.

"I have a surprise for you," mama says, and that catches Sander's attention. It's been a long time since mama has surprised him. "Come on, let's give you a bath so we can get there faster, alright?"

He nods, somewhat feeling energized by the idea of spending time with her mama, and follows her to the shower where mama gives him a bath after a long time. He missed it, really; when mama dresses him up in his sweater, jeans, and rubber shoes, he smiles all the way.

"Where we going?" He asks, and mama only smirks at him.

"It's a surprise, remember?" she says, and then, "Wanna bring Bear and Buster with us?"

"Yeah, please, mama!" He exclaims, and mama only chuckles as she attaches the leashes to Bear's and Buster's collars, before giving it to him.

"Let's go?"

He nods, wearing a grin on his face he hasn't worn in a long time.

-

When they get to the surprise, Sander is surprised to see a lot of dogs in the park. He thinks there's a game because there are referees like the ones he sees in TV wearing those striped t-shirts, and that alone is enough to excite him. He likes games.

One of the referees looks at him and smiles, waving him over. Sander looks up at mama who only nods.

"Go ahead, son."

So he does, Bear and Buster following behind him as he walks towards the officer.

"Hi, there. Are you and one of your dogs joining the game?"

Sander immediately lights up. So there really is a game? And he can bring Bear and Buster with him? He looks up again at his mama, asking if this is what they're doing today. Mama only nods and he looks back, smiling at the officer tentatively.

"Yes," he nods, and the officer smiles.

"Great! What's your name?"

"Sander."

"That's a nice name. And what are your dogs' names?"

"This is Bear," he says, raising Bear's leash, before raising Buster's. "This is Buster."

The officer chuckles. "That's really cute and really fitting. So, do you know what games we're playing today?" Sander shakes his head no. "Well, welcome to the dog Olympics, kid," the officer says with a grin. "Today, you and your dogs are going to race against all the other competitors. Easy enough, right?"

Sander nods, grinning. He likes running. He wants to play football someday.

"So, who do you want to play with you? I'd like for both of them to join, but I'm afraid you can only choose one."

Sander thinks about it really hard. Bear is a fast runner. Mama says he's a trained military dog. Buster, on the other hand, is the same. But he hasn't seen him in action, so he thinks it's right to only choose him.

"I think I want Buster to play with me."

"Alright. I'll leave you here to prepare with your mother. We'll be starting in 5 minutes. Good luck! But it doesn't seem like you need it."

When the officer leaves, Sander looks up at mama who quickly kneels down to his level.

"You excited?"

"Yes, mama!"

"Okay." She chuckles, kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to tell Buster what to do so he can follow your lead, alright, kid?"

He nods, and soon the whistle blows, Sander looks around at the other participants going to the direction of the sound. When mama nudges him forward, getting Bear from him, he follows them until all of them are on a horizontal line facing another direction. He can see there are a lot of obstacles, but he thinks Buster can do them.

There is a lot of talking. Sander can't catch up, but mama explains it to him by telling him what to do.

"So, when you hear the horn, you run as fast as you can and bring Buster with you. Got that?"

He nods. People count down from 5 to 1, and before he knows it, he hears the horn.

"Come on, Buster!" He runs as fast as he can, Buster running alongside him until they reach the first obstacle: mud crawl.

"Crawl, Buster."

Sander and Buster take their crawling position, careful not to let their heads touch the net above them, going through the mud easily while Sander hears the other owners struggle with their dogs because some dogs wouldn't listen. He chuckles, standing up when he reaches the end of the net, running to the next obstacle. This time, it's only for Buster who has to jump over the fences.

He runs ahead, gesturing for Buster to jump. "Jump, Buster!"

Buster jumps easily over the three fences while Sander waits at the end, and soon, they're running off to the next obstacle, which is a good distance away from them compared to the other two.

This time, they have to run up a plane, which is hard, but Sander tries to gain momentum, running at full speed as Buster runs alongside him. They successfully get to the top, before sliding down a slide. He has fun with it, chuckling as he and Buster go down the slide, landing on his butt on the floor.

He stands up right away, Buster waiting on him before running alongside him to the last obstacle. It's like the things he sees on TV when the football players are practicing. He knows how to do it, but he doesn't know if Buster can do it. So he takes the lead, running diagonally with every cone, careful not to hit them, and Buster easily follows him without Sander's say so. They both go through the obstacle easily, and soon, he can see his mama and the officer a while ago on the finish line smiling at them.

"Mama!" He shouts, running towards her with Buster, and as soon as he crosses over the finish line, his mama carries him in her arms.

"And we have a winner! Sander and Buster!"

He pulls back from the embrace after that, looking around and realizing that the other dogs are still stuck on last obstacle. He looks back at his mama.

"We won?" He asks, mama nodding her answer, which only makes him grin as he raises his fist. "Yes! Good boy, Buster!"

Woof, woof! He hears the dog answer, panting happily beside mama's feet.

"Good job, Sander," he hears his mama say before she brings him down on the floor again. "What do you say we spend your prize on some ice cream and cupcakes for Bear and Buster?"

He grins. "Okay, mama!"

-

Sander is tired, sated, and really happy. He wants to spend some more time with mama but he's really tired.

As soon as they arrive at the new apartment, his excitement over his new room leaves him, overwhelmed by the exhaustion as he automatically makes his way to his room without fanfare. But when he opens his room, momma is waiting there for him with a grin on her face.

"Hey, baby," she says, and Sander smiles again.

"Momma!" He runs and jumps over her as he hugs her, momma hugging her back tightly. "Momma, we won!"

"I heard, darling," she says, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him on his lips. "Congratulations. Did you have fun?"

"Yes, but you should be there next time." He missed his momma today.

"I know, darling, but momma had to take care of your little sisters," she says, pouting. "I'm sorry mama and I haven't had time with you, but you know momma and mama love you no matter what, right?"

He thought they didn't, but after today, he thinks he knows that they'll always love him even if their time is now divided between him and his little sisters. That's okay. He loves his sisters anyway.

"I love you too, momma and mama," he says, and he's awarded with a grin and a kiss on his lips, and another one on his head from his mama.

Momma lays him down on the bed, his mommies surrounding him as they lie down beside him in his bigger bed.

"Since mama and I have been really bad parents, what do you say we have a sleepover in your room tonight?"

"Okay." He grins even when his eyes are already drooping, reaching out and hugging his momma with his single arm. "Thank you, mama and momma."

He falls asleep to the feeling of his mommies beside him, his breathing evening out as soon as he relaxes in bed.

"Thank you, Sameen," Root says over his head to the other occupant, who only smirks.

"Sure, Root."

trouble finds him wherever they go

Chapter Summary

The one where Hanna and Ada stress the hell out of Finch.

Prompt: Boys take care of our favourite twins!

Sometimes, Harold still finds himself at a loss of words when he thinks about Root and Sameen and the family they've built together. If anyone ever told him that's where they would end up when he first met the both of them, he would've been aghast at the information. Root and Sameen together would never be good, and he would've feared for the worst.

But now, almost 6 years after Sameen had shot Root on her shoulder, Harold only finds himself smiling fondly at the ladies' transformation; from bordering on psychotic and misanthropic (which was frightening to say the least) to being reformed members of society (mostly reformed, anyway).

It's only when Harold walks in on them unnoticed during their silent conversations, when they think no one's around in the subway, that he truly sees how good they are together and for each other -- aside from how well-mannered Alessandro has turned out to be.

(Once, he had been away attending a required Teachers' Convention as Professor Whistler in one of the finest Universities in Boston, leaving the subway to the care of his friends for a week.

He visited the subway as soon as he'd set foot in New York, wanting to check if the subway was still in order given the careless tendencies of his colleagues. He knew that Mr. Reese was working a number, which meant that Detective Fusco was assisting him from the subway, knowing the ladies might be taking care of their children at home.

What he didn't expect was to see Root and Sameen conversing from the subway car's window, Sameen sat on Harold's desk and Root stood in front of her between her legs, Root laughing while Sameen was smiling. It was such a rare sight that Harold had found himself smiling and stopping, not wanting to interrupt the ladies who were obviously unaware of his presence; never mind the fact that Sameen was sitting on his desk, which would've irked him easily.

Harold was never one to eavesdrop in other people's conversations, but for some reason, the rare sight drew him in as he silently walked to the door, still hidden from the ladies.

"...takes after you."

"Damn right, she should. Ada's already a troublemaker. She needs Hanna to call her out on her shit," Harold heard Sameen's colourful but amused retort, resulting in Root's chuckle.

"Don't you think it's cute? It's like they're a smaller, sibling version of us."

Harold nodded with raised eyebrows. It's true.

Sameen huffed in amusement. "That's not exactly a good thing."

"What are you trying to say?" Root asked, Harold thought she sounded kind of whiney.

"I'm saying, if Ada really takes after you, then we're in for a lot of headaches. I'm already feeling sorry for Hanna."

"If this is a metaphor about me giving you head, Sam--"

"Shut up," Sameen said, chuckling. Harold sighed in relief, not wanting to hear whatever it was Root was supposed to say. "Jesus, you don't ever stop."

"This is what happens when I'm sexually deprived, Sweetie."

Harold cringed, starting to regret his decision to eavesdrop. He didn't need to know about their bedroom activities.

Sameen snorted. "Please. You've always been disgusting whether you're deprived or not."

Harold chose that moment to make his presence known, stepping into the subway car and clearing his throat. Sameen looked up, pushing Root a few distances away before clearing her throat.

"Finch."

Root smiled knowingly at Sameen's way, before giving Harold a tilted look as if to say 'isn't it cute how she still pretends she doesn't like me?'

"Hey, Harry. How goes your trip?" She'd said instead.

He almost chuckled. Sameen continued to pretend in front of them, but it was nice to see her in a different light once in a blue moon -- to be comforted that the two of them were really good for each other.)

It's easy to forget all their previous dispositions and behaviours with how different their life turned out to be. But for Harold, it only takes Hanna and Ada for him to remember how much of a headache Sameen and Root used to be for him.

Don't get him wrong, he is as fascinated at Hanna and Ada as he still is with Alessandro, but he cannot deny how much harder they are to take care of than Alessandro. Alessandro was low maintenance for the most part -- and still is -- while Hanna is as much the same given how she looks like she's inherited Sameen's nonchalance at everything, Ada is another story altogether.

It would've been better if Ada was the only twin they all had to deal with, but Hanna follows her in whatever trouble she finds -- not out of attention, Harold notes, but out of protecting her sister (again, another characteristic he sees a lot from Ms. Shaw). Sometimes, Hanna follows Ada simply because Ada is doing it and she should be doing it, too, which can be attributed to Ms. Shaw's competitiveness.

Harold remembers vividly this one instance where he thought Sameen was going to chop him into pieces and make him her dinner.

See, Harold understands how important it is for parents to witness their child's -- or in this case, children's -- first steps. It just so happens that Ada and Hanna's first steps happened in his presence, while their parents were working a relevant number outside of New York.

He'd remembered trying to stop Ada from standing up too much because he knew that she was trying to take her first step forward. But she had, and the next thing he knew, Hanna was taking hers already. The second Harold realized that he'd failed to record the whole thing was enough to induce more panic in him, knowing Sameen's tendencies.

Luckily, when he had told the news, albeit anxiously, Sameen had only chuckled.

"Thanks for taking care of them, Finch. We owe you," she'd said, before smirking at him. "I'm sure I can ask the robot overlord for the tapes."

Harold had been shocked enough to be speechless, expecting the worst. But after Sameen had walked away with Hanna and Ada each in her arms, giggling, he'd sighed in relief and wiped the sweat that had pooled on his forehead.

But now, they're much worse.

Not only are John and Detective Fusco being useless around the subway as he helps Root and Sameen work a drug number in Miami, but Hanna and Ada have chosen this day to touch everything that absolutely cannot be touched around the subway.

He doesn't know how many times his computer and lines have been disconnected because Ada thought it was funny and Hanna thought it was amusing enough to warrant a smile from her. Harold has tried telling either one of the boys to amuse them, but all he gets are chuckles.

"Let them be, Finch. They're at an age where they want to explore."

"I understand, Mr. Reese, but if these 'explorations' mean the subway catching fire, then I'm wont to let them explore."

"Relax, Glasses. We'll know when they're up to something. They're usually quiet when that happens."

He huffs, shaking his head as he remembers that particular conversation just in time to hear giggling from Hanna and Ada, and a sparkling sound that's not too comforting.

He stands up from his chair immediately, casting an annoyed look at a dozing Detective Fusco and John's amused face. As soon as he exits the car, Harold feels his heart plummeting to the ground as Bruno whines.

"Oh, dear. Girls!" He exclaims, walking towards the direction of the girls, Ada holding a taser in her hand.

When she sees Harold walking towards them, she chuckles, putting the end of the taser on Bruno's neck, the dog whimpering and pleading with Harold to save him.

"No, no, no, Ada, please! That's not a toy!" He exclaims, snatching the offending item from her hand and sighing.

How many times do these things need to happen before his colleagues learn where to put their weapons?

He looks down at Ada who's now pouting at him, while Hanna is scowling at him. Oh, boy -- it's like looking at two little Roots, one of them with Sameen's attitude.

He kneels down, flashing the taser. "Listen, girls. This isn't a toy. We only use this to neutralize perpetrators or enemies, but it's not for children. And Bruno," Bruno whines at the mention of his name, "could have died if you had continued using this on him. Do you understand? It's not safe," he explains slowly, making sure to make eye contact with the two girls.

Hanna seems to understand, looking at Bruno and hugging him as if to say sorry. But Ada continues to pout as if he's just stolen her favourite toy, which only makes him sigh and shake his head as he stands up and turns around to see Reese smirking at him.

Harold narrows his eyes, snapping, "How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you place your weapons?"

"I don't have a taser, Finch. It's Root's," John shrugs, and Harold only rolls his eyes just as a groggy voice pipes up.

"What's happenin' over 'ere?" Lionel asks, rubbing his eyes off sleep.

"Ada tasered Bruno is what happened, Detective Fusco," Harold snaps, feeling his irritation rise at the unnecessary stress that could've been avoided if his colleagues were more careful.

"Oh," Lionel says, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, was s'pposed to put it back. Must have forgotten."

Harold throws his hands up in exasperation, rolling his eyes as he makes his way back to his seat.

Sometimes, he doesn't know why he still says yes to babysitting when it never ends well.

fever rush

Chapter Summary

Lots of prompts in this one! Shaw/twins, a little smut, and Sander almost catching them at it. HAHAHA.

"Ma-ma!"

"I'm coming!"

You rise up from your position beside the bathtub, running out of the en suite as you make your way to Hanna and Ada on your new king-sized (you insisted; Root respected your space enough to buy you a big bed), both of them red in the face as they continue to cry their discomfort.

"Shhh, I'm here," you shush, picking Ada up since she's the louder of the two, before picking up Hanna who's silently letting out whimpers and sobs every now and then. You rock them both in your arms as you make your back to the en suite. "We're going to give you two a bath so you can feel better, okay?"

Both of them nod in your arms, but Ada continues sobbing from her discomfort. You put them down on the floor carefully once you reach the en suite, starting to undress Hanna before Ada to finally get rid of their high fever.

You sigh. This would've been a lot easier if Root was around, but she's been busy working missions -- what specifically, you don't know; you leave the both of them to it -- for the Machine in Colombia for 3 days now, and the kids only started showing their symptoms early this morning.

It's not like you can't handle them both. Compared to the first time you handled an ill Sander on your own, you know what to do this time. It's just that Hanna and Ada, you've found out today, are really clingy when they're sick.

(You'd been on the phone with Root this afternoon to update her and she'd been checking in once in a while since. She'd been pretty much convinced that you were the same when you were sick. You'd denied it, of course. You're not clingy.)

This would've been easier if Root was here. Plus, you're pretty sure Hanna and Ada already miss Root in addition to their fever.

Once you've undressed them, you put them inside the bathtub half-filled with lukewarm water, the twins sitting down on the tub as you get two sponges, soaking them in inside a smaller tub, squeezing them, before you give the girls a sponge bath at the same time.

You start on their torso, gently running your hand up and down their front, before gently running it up each of their sides, squeezing the sponge every once in a while to lather their body wash. Ada starts whimpering before you finish, giving you a perfect duplicate of Root's pout. You would've laughed if the circumstances were different, but you know better than anyone that Ada's pout is the signal to her crying.

"Almost done, kid," you say, rinsing their bodies off of lather, both of them shaking from the feel of the water. After two more rinses, Hanna looking a lot like she's ready to combust, you pull them out at the same time before finally wrapping each of them in their towels. They whimper at the same time, and you shush them.

"It's okay. We're done."

The reassurance silences them as you finish wiping their bodies, working on each of them as you dry their chin-length, straight blonde hair. Once you're done, you put the towels in the laundry bin, getting their fresh clothes from the counter before dressing them up. It doesn't take long for you to get them both dressed -- which under normal circumstances happens rarely because Ada is a piece of work just like her other mother -- and soon you're sighing in relief.

Like clockwork, their eyes start drooping, and you pick them up, making your way to your bed where you place both of them in the middle. As soon as you rise up, intent on washing the dishes in the sink, both of them cry as they reach out for you.

"Ma-ma!"

"Alright, alright," you sigh, shaking your head in amusement as you finally lay down beside them. That isn't enough of course, as Ada lets out another cry of displeasure prompting Hanna to whimper, and you have to roll your eyes and chuckle, wondering if Root was this much of a cry baby before because you certainly know you weren't the type.

You fix the pillow by the headboard before retrieving the twins, lying down on the bed and placing them on each side of you, the three of you sharing your large pillow. It works; you feel both of them relaxing on each side of you as both of them reach out a hand each, placing them on each of your arm.

It doesn't take a few minutes before you feel Hanna's breaths evening out to your right, while Ada is still whimpering every now and then, her furrowed brows obviously telling you she's having a hard time falling asleep.

It reminds you of a time when you were a kid, feeling hot and ill and really uncomfortable under your blankets, with your father right beside you, whispering comforting things in your ear.

You think it's one of those moments where you realized you were different; you remember not feeling any sort of comfort at all from his words. Sure, they told you he was there, and it made you feel like you weren't alone. But ultimately, it didn't work. What worked, however, was the hand he'd placed on your head, slowly massaging your head until you'd fallen asleep.

You decide to try it out on Ada, hoping it would work and quiet down your daughter as you place your hand gently on her head, before making circles on her temple and scalp. Ada's whimpers stop immediately as she relaxes, feeling your lips tugging at the effect.

"My father used to do this for me when I was sick and it was really effective," you whisper to Ada, making sure to keep your voice low so as not to disturb her and Hanna. You hear a sound from the back of her throat, as if telling you she agrees, making you chuckle. "Sleep, kid. I'll be here when you wake up."

She mumbles incomprehensibly, and soon, she's asleep. You follow her soon after.

-

You wake up hours later when you feel movement from your left, your hand immediately grabbing out on impulse, catching an all too familiar wrist as you open your eyes.

Root smiles at you, still wearing her leather jacket. "It's me, Sweetie."

"Root." You release her right away, rubbing your eyes from sleep as you watch Root kissing Ada on her forehead. "You're home early."

"Got home as fast as I could. Sorry I wasn't here," she whispers, and the soothing lilt of her voice makes your eyes droop. You fight it, trying to inspect Root for injuries, but so far she looks good -- or as far as you can tell with your eyes almost closed. "I'm okay, Sam. Go back to sleep."

You grunt, the bed shifting from her weight the last thing you feel as you fall asleep.

-

You wake up a few hours later with the feeling of someone staring at the back of your head, immediately knowing it's Root watching you sleep.

"Anyone ever told you that's creepy?" you grunt, feeling her pause behind you from the shock of knowing you're awake, before she chuckles.

"Just enjoying the view," she says, squeezing your ass for emphasis. You chuckle as you feel her moving closer behind you, until you can feel the heat coming off in waves from her body.

"Yeah? Not much to see in Colombia, huh?"

"Well, the view's nice. It's a nice country--a bit on the hot side, but," she pauses, and you can hear her smirking. "This one's hotter," she continues, squeezing your ass again for good measure.

You turn around quickly, pinning her down on the bed, making her smirk at you.

"I already like where this is going, Sweetie," she purrs, and the sound makes your cock twitch. Her smirk only widens, "Well, good morning."

You chuckle, bucking your hips to her centre to shut her up, her eyes closing as she moans, before looking back at you as if you'd been naughty.

"Don't start something you can't finish."

You insert your hands on the waistband of her panties, smirking when you feel her wetness as you circle your finger around her clit, making her moan. "Been thinking naughty things while watching me sleep?"

"Oh!--You know I--ah, oh god, keep doing that--can't help myself around you, Sweetie," she moans in between sentences as you continue circling her clit slowly, making you chuckle as you pull away your hands to pull down her panties, removing it from her ankles before pulling down your boxers, not wanting to waste any more time for fear of the kids interrupting your time.

She smirks from the bed, licking her lips as her eyes switch between your eyes and your erection. "Someone's in a hurry."

"Someone told me not to start something I can't finish," you say, lining up your cock on her centre, groaning at the contact as Root gasps. You buck back and forth. Root follows your movements with her hips, her legs around your waist, hands finding purchase on your hips, lips between her teeth as she watches the movement. "This is me finishing you."

You insert your cock in one hard push, making Root cry out in a moan, eyes rolling at the back of her eyes as you stay inside her, fully sheathed.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she gasps, squeezing your hips, making you thrust slowly into her, leaning down with your elbows on each side of her face. "Oh god, Sameen, keep doing that. You feel so good." You follow her lead, keeping your pace slow as you thrust in and out of her, hiding your face on her neck, nipping and biting the moans you're tempted to let out. "Mmmm, fuck, I've missed this..."

Her hips buck back and forth along with yours, both of you forming a rhythm as she slowly adjusts to your size, and soon, her hands travel to your ass, squeezing you.

"Faster, baby. Fuck me faster," she moans, and you pull out of her completely, making her whine, before slamming back in and pulling out with more speed again and again. "God, yes, just like that! Mmmm, yes, yes!"

The feeling of her warm wetness surrounding your shaft and the sounds of pleasure coming out from your mouth only invigorate you, making you pound into her with more speed, feeling the tightness in your groin as the blood travels down south.

"Fuck, Root," you grunt on her neck as you continue thrusting in and out of her with her hands on your ass guiding you into her. "So wet and so tight..." you groan as she clenches around you, which only makes you pound into her faster.

"God, mmm, yes... fuck me with that huge cock, Sameen. Mmmm, so good..." Jesus. Her dirty mouth only spews you on, making you pull out of her, pausing as she whines as she claws your ass, before slamming back in deeply inside her, making her gasp. "Don't stop, oh god, don't stop..."

The sounds of your activities echo throughout your new room; the slick wetness of your connection filling it as you pull in and out, Root's gasps and moans, and your grunts as you push harder and faster into her, feeling her walls clenching tighter and tighter around your shaft.

"Fuck," you groan, the feeling only making you feel full down under as you continue thrusting in and out.

"Shaw... Fuck, Shaw, I--I'm about to--" she moans, and kneel up, still inside of her as you spread her legs wider. Using her thigh as an anchor, you keep your hands there as you thrust in and out, her moans growing louder. "Oh fuck, yeah, yeah, mmmm, you feel so full like this, baby. Don't stop. I'm about to--" you thrust in faster, and when she quivers, you pull out, before slamming back in again. "Oh! I'm coming!" she practically screams, before quivering as her orgasm hits her.

You continue thrusting in and out slowly, milking her out and trying to get yourself to come off, when you hear the door knob moving. You look back at Root who's still enjoying her orgasmic haze, and immediately grab the blanket behind you, covering the both of you just as the door opens, Sander coming inside.

The sound of the door opening prompts Root to sit up, and you hug her to cover her up as Sander looks at the both of you panting with a tilted head, like a dog trying to understand what's in front of him.

"Hey, kid."

"Good morning, baby."

You and Root greet him in between pants, still feeling Root's walls fluttering around your cock, both of you still connected under the blanket.

"Morning, mama! Morning, mom!" He grins, still looking at the both of you as if he knows you've been doing something and he's caught you red handed. "What are you doing?"

Your mom, you answer in your head, but Root's slap makes you realize you said that out loud. Oops.

Sander tilts his head. "You're doing mom?"

Root sighs and chuckles at the same time in exasperation under you, as you make an excuse.

"Uh, I mean, I was trying to wake your mom up."

"Oh," he says, "She likes it?"

"Listen, baby," Root interrupts this time when you can't keep the smirk off your face as she blushes. "Can you wait for us outside? We'll be out in a minute."

"Okay! Can you make me pancakes?" He asks, and you nod, subtly pulling out from Root under the blankets as you settle yourself down beside her.

"Sure, kid."

"Yes!" He exclaims on the way out, you and Root sighing in relief as he closes the door behind him.

You look at each other when he's gone, before smirking as Root chuckles. You're pretty sure Sander heard Root moaning.

"That was close," you say, Root nodding in agreement as she continues chuckling, looking down at the tented part of the blankets on your centre. You shake your head. "s'fine. You don't have to."

"I could..." she suggests, but you'd rather clear things up with Sander because you know he has a lot of questions about what he almost saw, even though you're dying to ejaculate.

"Later, Root. We have to get to him--make sure he understands," you say, and she sighs, before smirking at you as she leans into you.

"I guess I'll just have to make it up to you later, hmm?" she purrs, before pecking your lips. You bite her lower lip as she pulls away, making her moan as she sucks on your upper lip, your kiss becoming heated in an instant.

You pull away when breathing becomes an issue, pecking her once before standing up from the bed. She follows your lead, and soon, you're both out, Root checking up on Hanna and Ada, while you make Sander's pancakes. Once they're ready, you set them down on the table, calling out for him, and soon, the three of you are seated as you eat breakfast.

You and Root can't help yourselves and chuckle once in a while at what almost happened. Sander, of course, catches on. Smart kid.

"Mama, what did you mean when you said you're doing mom?"

"It's adult stuff, kid," you say, not wanting to bullshit him. He pouts, doesn't like your answer. You roll your eyes in amusement.

"There are things adults do to each other when they really like each other," Root explains instead, and Sander nods, looking thoughtful as he munches on his pancakes.

You and Root watch him closely, waiting for the next question.

"You mean I can do it to the person I like?"

Jesus Christ. You choke on the water you've just drank, Root chuckling, making you narrow her eyes at her to take it seriously. She bites her lips, before grabbing Sander's hand.

"Not yet, baby. When you're older, you'll understand, okay? But for now, no doing other people, alright?"

He looks sad, but he nods. "Okay." And the subject's dropped.

You and Root sigh in relief, more so when Sander leaves the table and drops his plate to the sink, before resuming his TV time on the couch.

Root chuckles again, making you smirk.

"Really, Root? Things adults do when they really like each other?"

"What? It's true. You love me," she says, and you roll your eyes.

"I hated you when we did it the first time."

She smirks, her head tilted in that condescending way. "That's not true, Sweetie. At least, a part of you really liked me."

You groan, feeling your cock standing up in attention inside your briefs. Root, knowing her effect on you, runs her leg up your thigh, until they're at your crotch.

"Root," you growl. "Don't start. The kids are awake."

"Hmmm, then I guess it's time for a shower, don't you think?" she purrs, standing up, letting you see her in her oversized t-shirt with nothing but her panties underneath as she walks to the sink, before walking past you and casting you a wink, your eyes following her as she makes her way to your room adjacent to the kitchen.

It's only when she disappears from your sight that you realize you'd been practically drooling all over her. Goddamn it, you stand up, dropping your plate on the sink, before following Root in the shower, where you have a damn good shower for an hour and a half.

into the future

Chapter Summary

A prompt chapter from Rania9 who suggested a flash forward of the Shaws. I decided it was a good idea as a temporary (hopefully) end to the series.

This is mostly just Shaw and Root bonding with their children.

Chapter Notes

Before anything else, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has religiously read through this story since the start! I hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as I did.

As much as I want to continue this, I've gotten to the point where I feel burnt out. And yes, that means the criticisms I received in the deleted chapter aren't the reason why I'm ending this. I was going to end it after part 2, so don't feel bad! Hahahaha. I wanted to continue with part 2 so bad; I tried writing for either decisions, aka (a) Shoot adopts James or (b) someone close to Shoot adopts James instead (I'll leave who to your imagination!), but I couldn't come up with ANYTHING at all. Plus, the fact that I snapped at a few of you (apologies again) was a glaring sign that I needed to rest.

I'm not sure if I'll be back, I hope to, but I don't want to give you false hope. (Honestly, I had so much fun writing this that I almost didn't want to rest. HAHAHA.) Nonetheless, I want to thank you all for embarking in this journey with me. It garnered a lot of attention I never expected this story to have, and that's more than enough.

17 years later...

"Don't forget to call us when you need anything."

"I know, mom. I won't."

"And I know we have the Machine to keep an eye on you, but we want to hear from you or I'm going there to see for myself."

You chuckle at the grimace on Sander's face. If maman did this to you, you think your reaction wouldn't be far off to his.

"Mom, please don't... It's just an immersion. I'll be back before you know it."

"And it's not an excuse for me or your maman not to hear from you, do you understand?" Root huffs, arms crossed. Sander chuckles and shakes his head, hands on his mom's shoulders.

"Seriously, mom. Relax."

Root pouts, uncrossing her arms to cup his cheeks. "My baby's all grown up now."

Sander groans again, looking at you over Root's shoulder as they hug, mouthing, "help me" to you.

You chuckle and shake your head in amusement. He's a lot taller than his mom now, but his looks have totally transformed into a boy version of you. It's only right, you think. The twins look exactly like Root at the age of 18 and it's disturbing; it's like living in with triplets, not twins.

"Root, stop tormenting the kid."

Root pulls away and continues anyway. "I've got something for you. Wait here," she says as she runs off to your room.

Sander chuckles to himself and looks at you. "Is mom going to be okay?"

"I'm going to have to deal with her, no thanks to you," you jest, and you both chuckle. "But she's fine, kid. She's just--" You stop when Root comes out of your bedroom with a plastic bag, giving it to Sander.

Sander opens it and the stupified reaction on his face is enough to set you off. You have a high suspicion of whatever it is Root placed in there.

"Mom, seriously!" He exclaims, blushing. "Ma, please, talk some sense into her!"

Root's hands find purchase on her hips. "I'm serious, Alessandro Shaw. I'm not ready to be a grandma yet."

"But--condoms, mom?!"

You cackle louder from the couch. The look on Sander's face is picture-worthy.

"Jesus, what's up with the noise in here?" You hear an additional voice coming out of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, finding Hanna standing there, looking for all intents and purposes disturbed in her sleepwear.

"I can't believe this. Mom just gave me a box of condoms!"

"You're freaking out over a box of condoms?" Hanna deadpans, and then, chuckles. "Hand them over to me then."

"Hanna," you, Root and Sander say at the same time with a terse voice, narrowing your eyes at her.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding... Christ, I'm one with the holy spirit," she says, hands up in surrender as she takes her place beside you. "And for God's sake, I hate men. It's Ada you should be talking to."

"I heard my name!"

"Speak of the devil," Hanna mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"You guys having fun without me?" Ada says as she appears from the hallway, sounding exactly like Root as she looks around and observes, before her eyes land on Sander. "Oh," she says, pouting. "You're leaving already?"

"You gonna miss me?" Sander cheekily retorts, smirking at Ada.

Ada pouts playfully and squeezes his cheeks. "Of course I will, doofus. No one's going to give me massages while you're away."

"Ugh," Hanna groans beside you when the other three proceed to hug, rolling her eyes as she turns to you. "Why is everyone so dramatic?"

You chuckle. "Amen."

"Ooohh," Ada cooes at the box of condoms. "Can I have some?"

"You better be using them, young lady, or..." Root begins and you tune her spiel off when you notice Hanna suddenly fidgeting with her fingers.

The thing with this particular daughter of yours is she never fidgets. She's not a sociopath like you are, but she's definitely inherited most of your traits; pragmatic, mostly observant, and a bit on the 'I don't like people' side. She feels though, that's for sure. Compared to you, she does get affectionate every now and then to the people she's closest to (or at least to you and the rest of your family). And she doesn't freeze when someone touches her.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her in. "What're you thinking about?"

She smiles sadly at you before looking down, shrugging. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever meet someone like you met mom."

"Where is this coming from?" You frown. Granted, it isn't really a conversation you want to be having; you weren't exactly the type of person who wondered if you'd ever end up with someone. But you could see how much it's bothering Hanna.

She shrugs again. "I don't think people like me, you know? I mean, look at Sander and Ada, people are practically falling over their asses for them."

That's true. It's one of the reasons why Root is hell bent on giving them the contraceptives talk. It's hilarious when she gets in one of those moods. You're actually surprised they haven't brought home anyone yet, but that may be because of how you and Root terrorized Hanna and Ada's male friends when they were younger; guns and tasers out, waiting for them to fuck up.

"Ada says you ignore everyone who likes you," you say.

"That's because I don't know what to do! Like, I don't know if I can like them the way they like me, you know?" She replies, making you chuckle.

"Oh, I know," you say, looking towards Root who's still busy fussing over Sander and Ada. "I still wonder when your mother will leave because I can't give back what she feels."

She frowns. "I don't think mom will leave, that's the point. She loves you to the point that she doesn't care about that," she says, and then pauses, pulling away from you with a curious look. "How the hell did you guys meet anyway? You never told us."

"No, we haven't, have we, Sweetie?" Root suddenly interrupts with an amused tone over your shoulder, making you roll your eyes.

"Trust me, it's nothing special," you deadpan, trying to get yourself out of this situation you've found yourself in. So much for trying to be a good parent.

"Come on, Sam, you can't just say that," Root retorts with a teasing tone, and you're really tempted to wipe off the smirk on her face.

"Yeah, maman, tell us!" Ada says as she takes her place on your other side, now engulfed by the twins as Sander and Root take their place on the couch opposite.

You groan, standing up. "I need a drink."

"Then let's make a night out of it!" Ada says.

"Yeah, come on, ma. We want to know," Sander adds, and you have to roll your eyes.

"God's sake, fine," you grumble, getting the drinks from the cabinet perched on top of the kitchen as every one of your family cheers on the couch. If they're going to get that story out of you, they're going to have to make do with the hard drinks.

A smirk tugs on your lips. You retrieve a bottle of Hennessy, Jose Cuervo, and El Hombre, skipping the beers altogether. Besides, if you're going to be forced to tell a "love" story, then you're going to need harder drinks.

You come back with the bottles in your arms, and then come back with glasses for each of your family, every one of the ladies frowning at your choice of drinks, while Sander's eyes only light with mirth.

"Jesus, ma," Hanna says, looking at the drinks with a perplexed expression, similar to that of Ada.

"Do you want the story or not?"

"Fine!" The twins relent, muttering under their breaths how they didn't plan to get drunk tonight, making you and Root chuckle.

You look at your wife with a smirk. "You're not getting out of this, lightweight."

"Oh, I know," she coos, mirth in her eyes. "If it means you get to carry me to bed, Sweetie, then I'm game."

"Jesus, this is disgusting," Hanna groans playfully.

"Oh, please, you're just jealous," Ada retorts from your other side.

"Kids," Root chides with an amused tone, stopping Hanna from retorting altogether, making her grumble beside you.

You chuckle, pouring a finger of Jack in each glass. "Drink up, losers."

All of you drink; Root, Ada and Hanna all wincing from the taste, while Sander only smiles. Out of all your children, Sander is the only one who can keep up with you.

"Come on, ma. How did you two meet?" He says, and you sigh.

"Long story short--"

"Oh, no. You can't get away with that. We need the long version!" Ada protests, Hanna and Sander nodding in agreement, Root smirking across from you.

"Want me to do it instead?"

A lot of things can go wrong with Root leading the storytelling, but fuck it, you really couldn't be bothered.

"Go ahead," you say, narrowing your eyes at her. "And for God's sake, don't make it cheesy, Root."

"Once upon a time..."

"Root."

She pouts, before smiling fondly. "Your mother and I didn't really get off in the right foot." You snort. No shit. "I...was, well, let's just say I wasn't the best of me yet. I was hell bent in finding the Machine I knew existed, when I stumbled upon a case that your mother worked on with her previous employer."

The kids have known about the Machine for a while now, but they don't know enough about your past before the Machine. You and Root have both decided to leave that part out for obvious reasons, which robot overlord had seconded. Although sometimes, you think, they have a clue anyway. How else could you and Root have survived years of saving numbers around New York and the rest of the USA?

"Safe to say there was a mix up with Sameen's employer and the case she was working on, and she and her partner were caught in between it. They decided to get rid of your mother and her partner, but they only got to her partner."

"You mean they killed your partner?" Sander asks, frowning.

You and Root look at each other, hesitating. Do you tell them the truth of the nature of your previous work?

"It's okay, maman. We know you don't do that anymore," he adds, Hanna and Ada nodding in agreement.

You sigh. "Yeah, okay, they killed my partner. Bad news for them they couldn't kill me."

"I was working undercover with the agency of Shaw's employer," Root continues. "That's when I heard her name. They couldn't kill Shaw, she's one of their best agents, how it would be hard to catch her, etcetera, etcetera. But with a little hacking--"

"You mean stalking," you deadpan.

"It's not stalking if you're gathering information," Ada and Root say at the same time, prompting you to roll your eyes. Hackers.

"What the hell difference does it make?" You grumble, Hanna sighing beside you.

"Losing track here, guys."

"Anyway, I was able to pull up your mother's confidential files. Security is surprisingly lacking in our government," she whispers mischievoulsy, before continuing, "Safe to say I was impressed with what I read. Straight A student, did her medical residency, Marines, high performance rate as an operative..." She's gushing now, making you roll your eyes.

"Root."

She chuckles. "Patience, Sweetie. It's all part of the story," she says, smiling. "I think I admired you then. It gave me extra motivation, so when I heard you were meeting Veronica, I found a way--"

"What she means is she pretended to be Veronica by restraining that person inside the bathtub of her own hotel," you say, drinking one full glass before refilling it.

All of them hand you their glasses to refill as they chuckle at the information, and you pour them the same amount, before handing it over to them.

"Come now, Sweetie. We're not there yet. You're killing the suspense."

"So, this hotel..." Hanna brings you both back. "This is where you first met?"

"Yes. I tried getting information out of her, but it turns out she was clueless about the Machine, thought all the numbers came from Guantanamo."

You scowl. "Yeah, and then when I caught her hiding someone, she tasered me and tied me up to a chair. Nearly burned my face with an iron."

Root chuckles as do the rest of your children.

"Seriously, mom?"

"Give me some credit, Sameen, I wasn't going to burn your pretty face."

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Yeah, right.

"Wait, what stopped you?" Ada asks, genuinely curious. Like two peas in a pod, those two.

Root sighs. "Your Uncle John came to the rescue and interrupted our girl time."

"So you're the bad guy?" Hanna asks.

"Well, in my defense, I was thinking about the good of the Machine. Of course your mother was really determined to hand my ass over to me. She shot me on the shoulder the next time we saw each other," she says, nonchalantly taking a sip of her drink.

This time, you're the only one who chuckles. "You deserved it."

Root shrugs, smirking. "I mean, I realize you could've killed me on the spot, but you chose not to. I think your mother liked me then."

"Please." You roll your eyes. "There was nothing to like. You were just hot and smart."

"Is that the reason why you slept with me in the CIA safe house?" Root counters, prompting Sander and Hanna to let out disgusted groans, while Ada only chuckles.

"The two of you had sex in a CIA safe house?" She exclaims, sounding for all intents and purposes amused.

"For almost 10 hours, darling," Root answers, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"Root."

She snorts. "They're grown ups, Sameen. They can take it."

"Can we just skip all the sex stories? We've heard the two of you enough growing up, thank you," Sander says, grimacing.

You and Root look away this time, clearing your throats. Guilty as charged. In all the years you've been together, especially after Hanna and Ada have grown into toddlers, your sex life with Root has only gotten better. You don't know why that's so; you're supposed to grow tired of it, but every time you do it, Root makes it exciting.

Of course, you can't say the same for your children. You don't even know how many times they've almost caught you at it as toddlers and how many times they've begged through your doors as teenagers and now young adults to stop what you were doing.

In your defense, Root is really great in bed.

"Unfortunately, we can't move forward with the story without them, baby," Root retorts patronizingly.

"Fine, fine," Hanna sighs, gesturing with her hands. "Can we just skip to the part where you realized you love maman? And vice versa?"

This time, Root suddenly becomes serious. You already know what she's thinking about before she says it.

"I...I was in denial, I think. Your mother isn't really the type of person to be committed. She only likes one night stands; three if you're good enough," she says, chuckling humourlessly as she stares at her finger running over the rim of her glass. "But after the first time we slept together, I already felt different."

You raise your eyebrows. You didn't know about this. "Seriously?"

She nods, smiling but you can see that there's no amusement in it. "I fell in love all at once, Sameen. But I only realized how much when Samaritan--" she stops, looking away from all of you.

After all this time, what happened in the Stock Exchange remains a nerve for Root.

"Mom? What happened?" Sander asks, his hand grabbing one of Root's, squeezing it.

Root smiles at the comfort. "I was pregnant with you then, but Sameen and I haven't talked about what we were going to do with you."

"You're saying I'm an accident, is that what it is?" Sander asks, chuckling.

"I don't regret it, baby boy," Root coos, prompting Sander to groan.

"Mom, please..."

Root chuckles. "Anyway, yes, I was pregnant. 1 month, I think, when this rival AI of the Machine, Samaritan, had us trapped in the basement of the Stock Exchange. I honestly thought it was the end of all of us, but your mother came like a real knight in shining armour," she says, her face suddenly becoming serious. "We were on our way out and the elevator wouldn't work. Your mother, of course, thought it was a great idea to sacrifice herself for us."

"It worked," you say.

She nods, but her lips have suddenly turned upside down. "I'll never forget that; watching you getting gunned down while the rest of us get away from it all. I think that's when I realized how much I couldn't live without you. Those were the longest 10 months of my life."

It's silent after that, all of your children drinking that in, while you watch Root try to relive it in her mind.

"Root, it's okay. I'm here," you say, getting her out of her thoughts.

She smiles. "I know, Sweetie."

As if on cue, all three of your children empty their glasses, pouring themselves a new helping, before emptying it again in one go.

"That shit was heavy," Hanna says, Sander and Ada nodding in agreement.

You take a drink of your own and pour yourself the last bit of Jack. You didn't even realize you've emptied one bottle until now.

"What about you, maman? Why did you decide to stay with mom?" Ada asks.

"Trust me, I didn't want to," you say, and all of them chuckle except Root who pouts at you. "Not at first. She was overbearing, annoying, a narcissist, thinks highly of herself, and a psycho. I don't know why it had to be her."

They frown. "What do you mean?"

You roll your eyes. "Why I had to... you know, feelings," you stammer, not wanting to talk about this in front of your children even though they know about your condition. "It's like suddenly walking inside the club, it's noisy, right? And you can feel the bass thumping everywhere. That's how it felt all of a sudden."

"And you decided to stay because of that?"

"No," you snort. "No. I don't think there was a single time where I decided I would stay. It was a process. But I realized how, err...special your mom was when I was with Samaritan," you say, and they frown, but don't say anything. You sigh. This is the first time you're going to talk about it, ever, in what may be considered detailed.

You continue, "they tortured me, psychologically. Made simulations--virtual realities--for them to find out where the Machine was. It felt real; your Uncle Harry, John, Bear... Your mom," you say, remembering how you wished every single time it was real. "I think I've been through more than 3,000 when I realized I'd always seek your mother."

They're all staring with their mouths agape, and you take your chance to continue.

You huff. "It's funny, actually. Every time they would get smarter and use your mom against me in different ways, all to find the Machine. I guess nobody really expects a sociopath to care, huh?" You chuckle, shaking your head. "My previous employer taught me that if we were ever tortured to take our minds somewhere else. Some place safe," you say, and leave it at that.

(You're pretty sure you've said that particular line to Root one too many times during your simulations.)

"Mom?" Hanna asks beside you with wonder, and you nod.

"She, uh," you clear your throat, looking away. You can't believe you're saying this in front of your whole family, but fuck it. "Your mom... She was my safe place."

Root suddenly drinks her whole glass, placing it on the coffee table separating the couches before walking towards you, straddling your lap as she folds in on herself, wrapping her arms around you like a child.

You wrap the arm not holding your glass around her waist to keep her in place, continuing (you're pretty sure it's liquid courage doing the talking by now), "And when I came back and I saw Sander... I don't think I thought of anything else except I needed to be there. So I stayed."

It's silent, all of them drinking that and their glasses in, and the next thing you know, your children look like they're trying to get themselves drunk.

You chuckle. "Easy with the drinks."

"You can't expect us to be sober taking all of that in, ma," Hanna says.

"I don't even care if I get drunk anymore," Ada adds.

"Nobody's going to take care of your ass when you do," Sander jests, and before you know it, the three of them are already busy bantering with each other like you and Root aren't there.

"You okay, Root?" You whisper. It wasn't exactly lost on you that Root had been sniffling quiety on your lap.

She nods, before pulling away, her face close to yours. "I didn't know."

"You saved my life," you say. "If it wasn't for your message, I wouldn't be back."

She smiles and sobs softly at the same time, pecking you on the lips, before wiping away her tears and joining in on your children who are halfway to being drunk... Or well, Hanna and Ada are.

You spend the rest of the night talking about lighter things then, until Ada stands up and sways, Hanna doing the same, and it's obviously time to go.

Sander helps you bring them to their respective rooms while Root waits in your room, tipsy herself. You take a longer time calming Ada down as she spends half an hour puking and half an hour after that yapping away, thanking you for staying.

You try to massage her head to calm her down, which has always worked wonders ever since she was a baby, and it does its magic.

Before she loses consciousness, she mumbles something that suspiciously sounds like, "love you, maman."

You smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Me too, kid."

You visit Hanna next and find her already asleep. You have to chuckle at the consistency; she's always been less of a fussy kid than Ada.

The last room you visit is Sander's, where you find him placing the box of condoms in his suitcase with a look of amusement and disgust. You chuckle, catching his attention.

"Hey, ma. Is Ada asleep?"

You nod. "You alright, kid?"

"More than okay, maman."

"Don't do anything your mom would get a heart attack for, alright?"

He chuckles. "I promise, mom. I'll be back in 3 months in one shape."

"Good," you say, about to leave when he calls you. "You need anything else?"

"Thank you... For staying with mom. For staying with us. I know it's not easy, but--"

You cut him off with a shake of your head. "I like it here, kid."

He gives you a boyish grin, walking towards you and engulfing you in a hug, before letting go.

"Goodnight, maman."

"Night, son," you say, before leaving his room and making your way to yours and Root's room, where you find your wife in a fetal position.

You tuck yourself behind her, making her turn around and smile at you.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," you say. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nods. "It feels like it hasn't been long since all of them were little kids."

"Mm." You nod. "And now they're all leaving."

"Has Hanna said anything about what she wants to do?"

Your daughters have only just graduated high school, with nothing less than the Valedictorian (Ada) and Salutatorian (Hanna) awards. Ada has decided to help out with Machine stuff, while Sander is still in college, wanting to pursue a medical career. Hanna, on the other hand, has been quiet until the other day.

"She wants to be a Marine," you say, and Root frowns.

"You think she can do it?"

"Don't underestimate your children, Root. They were both raised by a psycho and a sociopath," you jest, and she chuckles, cupping your face.

"Plus, she has you as her baby daddy."

You roll your eyes, chuckling as you peck her lips, before both of you stare at each other.

Even after almost two decades, Root still looks young. Both of you have made an effort to stay in shape even when you're no longer working on the field for the Machine. While you and Root are stubborn and still want to work the numbers, your body isn't as young as it used to be. That doesn't mean you can't help in anyway you can from the subway, aiding Ada and the rest of the Machine's new assets with the numbers. The new arrangement has made your marriage a lot better, to be honest. More time together, more time for sex...

Root chuckles, smirking at you as she looks down. You follow her line of sight and see that your thoughts have led to, well, more enticing thoughts.

"Are you happy, Root?" You ask instead, and she gives you a grin that has never lost its light over the years.

"Absolutely."

You don't regret choosing Root everyday. Never.

Afterword

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