Chapter Text
She sat in the corner of the room, dully tracing circular patterns with the condensation surrounding the cool water glass. The woman checked the clock on the wall- she had been sitting there for hours, listening to the same apologies from different mouths over and over again. She hid a grimace as a man approached her and looked up, morphing her expression into a sorrowful one.
“Hey Samantha,” he said, looking down at her. Inwardly she smirked at his awkward pose- his shoulders hunched, his hands in his pockets, sweat glistening his face from the hot August weather.
“Hey, Jack, thanks for coming,” she said quietly, offering him a smile.
“I’m really sorry about Jason. He was a great guy.” His voice trailed off.
Her smile widened, tears forming in her eyes. “Yeah, he was. He would be glad you were here,”
Jack eyes widened at the sight of her tears and quickly looked around for a napkin. He grabbed the nearest one on the table and quickly held it out to her. She gave a small frown at the ketchup stains and began to respond when a hand clasped her shoulder.
“Sam!”
She looked up into her friend’s face. She smiled in relief.
“Zoe,” she greeted, standing up. She glanced down at the napkin and shook her head. “No thank you,”
Jack nodded and put it back down on the table. He nodded at the two women and gave an encouraging smile.
Zoe grabbed her friend’s wrist and began to drag her to the bathroom. “Oh, Sam, you look a mess,” she fussed, reaching her finger to run the mascara around her eyes, enhancing the raccoon look. “Let me clean you up,”
They walked down the hallway with ease, people quickly moving out of the way. Zoe pushed her friend into the bathroom and closed the door, turning on the faucet.
“Hey Zo,”
Zoe ignored the teasing tone and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. “How are you, Root?”
Root sat down on the toilet next to her and began dabbing around her eyes with the water, wiping away the make-up. “Pretty good, all things considered,” she shrugged, “My husband is dead, but at least I got a cool party out of it. With cake.”
Zoe pursed her lips. “Jason was a good agent,”
“I’m better,” she sang.
Zoe sighed. “Root…” she warned.
“Yes?” she hummed, beginning to wet a cotton pad beneath the stream of water.
“Not always do we want to follow orders. But we have to, that’s what makes us good agents,”
“Huh, that’s a funny definition, especially since you just said Jason was a good agent,” Root replied, swiping the cotton around the edges of her eyes.
Zoe looked at the black and white checkered tiles, the water being the only sound. “I’m sorry,”
“Then don’t take me out,” Root’s voice hardened as she turned her head to stare at Zoe.
Zoe shook her head. “You know that’s not up to me,”
“Convince them,” Root growled, standing up.
Zoe stared at her before letting out a sigh. She stood up and squeezed Root’s arm sympathetically. “I’ll try again, but start to pack your bags.”
Root scoffed, shaking her head. “Proshchay,” Root replied sarcastically. Zoe withdrew her hand and began to open the door. “Don’t forget to try the hor d’oeuvres! I spent all morning putting them together,”
Zoe gave her one last look before shutting it behind her. The taller woman turned off the faucet, grunting in frustration. She stared at herself in the mirror, noting how disgruntled she looked. That’d probably add to the effect, she mused as she tucked a strand of stray brown hair behind her ear.
Root had been in America for two years since she had heard the news that her mother had died back home, finalizing her conviction to never return to the Union. It was a nice funeral, or so Zoe had told her, who was told by her higher-up, and so on. Hanna was dead- she had been for years- and now her mother. Why return?
Jason was useless as usual. He seemed to think her wanting to stay in America meant that she would agree to help with his far-fetched plans of escape. And now he was dead- two bullets in the chest and a slash across his thigh- leaving Root alone once more.
She didn’t mind being alone, though. People were idiots, no matter the nation. People only hindered her, if anything.
A knock on the door snapped Root out of her thoughts. She cleared her throat and opened it slightly, coming face to face with her and Jason’s boss at the computer company.
“Hey, Sam,” he said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Everything alright in there?”
Root bowed her head. “Yeah, thanks, Mr. Greene. I’m alright. Just needed a little space, is all,”
He nodded and clasped her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Root fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you want me to clear everyone out? You ought to get some rest- it’s been a tiring day for you. Go upstairs, rest up,”
“Oh, would you? That would be so wonderful,” Root gushed, smiling back at him. “Who would’ve thought putting together a memorial service would be so exhausting.”
“Well, it is beautiful- Jason would be proud. I’m sure he’s up there, smiling down at you,” he said, withdrawing his hand. The words meant nothing- neither her nor Jason cared in the slightest about religion. “And don’t forget- I don’t want you coming in for another week!”
Root smiled at him as he walked away. “Thanks, Mr. Greene,” She sighed in relief as she ascended the stairs, casting a glance at the few people scattered around her living room- neighbors, coworkers, people from the dog-park. Even the local police were here, Root noted, smirking in the irony. Everyone loved The Groves’.
She lay down in her bed, listening to the voices outside from her window as they all got into their respective cars. Thank god for that old sap, she thought. She had been itching to kick those people out since they first stepped in the front door.
Root yawned, suddenly realizing how tired she was. Slowly she shut her eyes as she drifted off into sleep.
The sound of a car door slamming snapped Root out of her slumber. On instinct, she shot up, muscle memory letting her find her gun beneath Jason’s old pillow with one hand as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with the other. She blinked several times, looking around the room. Her eyes landed on the open window and she sighed in relief as she stumbled over to close it.
The sun wasn’t too high, but enough so that she could easily see the family across the street. New neighbors, she reminded herself as she stifled a yawn, lazily tossing the gun back on the bed.
She stared at the sky for a few moments, until deciding on sometime after six in the morning. She glanced at the clock by her bedside- 6:05 AM, it read in bright red. She smirked to herself- many mornings had she spent staring out the window, allowing her to pick up that skill.
“Shaw,” a voice called, snapping Root’s attention back to the family outside the window. She watched as a man strained to hold up a large box. “Help,”
Root laughed to herself at the struggling man, finding amusement in how pathetic he looked. The other woman- Shaw- seemed to think so too, as she rolled her eyes and lazily walked around the car just in time to catch the box right before it fell from his hands. The box was more than half of the woman’s size, but that didn’t stop her from being able to put it back up. The two of them made their way up the driveway as Root watched.
“Shaw! Shaw!” a voice called from behind the moving van. Emerged into sight was a small girl, about ten or so from Root’s guess. She bounded up the steps leading to the porch and stood beside her mother as she and her husband set down the box.
Root watched as Shaw and the girl speak to each other, cursing the grenades from years in America that had ultimately left her deaf in her right ear.
The small woman turned her head, making eye contact with Root in the window. They held their gazes for several moments until the young girl said something, pulling away her mother’s attention. Root decided it was best for her to withdraw from her spot at the window before Shaw looked up again.
Root padded down the stairs into the kitchen, scooping out some of the dog food into Bear’s bowl. The clink of the Malonis’ collar announced his arrival as he waddled over, bending down his head into the bowl. As she squatted down to stroke the dog, she thought about the family.
It wasn’t unusual for Root to watch her neighbors if she woke up too early. Humans were intriguing, even if predicable. The husbands would drive off to work, sometimes accompanied by their wives. The kids would rush to catch the school bus, late from taking those extra five minutes of sleep. It was simple.
Not that Root was envious of them. They were boring- they couldn’t think for themselves, always doing what everyone else did just for the sake of fitting in. She wasn’t meant for that type of normalcy. Still, that didn’t keep her from watching.
“Tick… tick-tick tick… tick-tock tock…”
Root’s eyes darted between her notepad and the key, deciphering the sounds as they sounded. A long beep sounded signaling the end of the message and Root hung up.
Meet 1300 spot 3C
Suddenly, a knock came from her door. Root gave the rip of paper one last look before emerging it in the bowl of warm water next to her, watching as the black ink swirl off of the page.
Once illegible, Root wadded the paper up and tossed it into the garbage bin. She wiped her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door. She opened it.
On the porch stood Shaw and who Root presumed to be her husband and her daughter.
“Hi there! We’re your new neighbors,” the man greeted jovially. “I’m Michael Cole, this is Sameen, and this is Gen,”
“Sameen Shaw,” the small woman stressed in annoyance.
Michael blushed slightly. “Yes, sorry, sorry, Shaw,”
Root gave a bemused look. “And you’re married?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, we are. She just kept her name,” Cole explained, smiling again.
“Shaw’s stubborn,” Gen piped up. Root examined her. She called her Shaw by her first name and was white, where Shaw was clearly not. On closer look- she was Eastern European, maybe even Russian, Root noted with interest. What an interesting family.
“I’m Samantha Groves- but please, call me Sam,” she replied, smiling. She opened the door wider. “Please, come in,”
The family entered in one by one, Shaw trailing in the back. Root smiled at the other woman as she closed the door, amused at what seemed to be her permanent scowl.
“You have a dog?” Gen exclaimed in excitement as Bear ran up to her. She kneeled down, letting the large dog sniff her hand before rubbing his head. At this, Shaw seemed to perk up, gravitating towards the animal as well. A small smile formed on her lips as the dog nuzzled its head against her hand.
Root laughed. “Yep, that’s Bear,”
Michael smiled to her, nodding his head at the girls behind him. “Gen’s been begging for a dog for months,”
“She’s welcome to come over anytime,” Root replied, surprising herself. Usually she’d hate having her neighbors in her house, but this family seemed different. Intriguing.
“That was your husband, yeah?” Shaw asked, nodding at the picture of her and Jason on the wall. Root noted the past tense.
“Yes, Jason,” she said, putting on a sorrowful look. She looked down. “He, uh, died a couple of weeks ago. His memorial was yesterday, actually,”
Gen shot of quick frown at Shaw before giving her a sympathetic look. “We heard, we’re sorry.” The child glanced again at Shaw. “Shaw is sorry, too,”
Root looked at Shaw who in return gave her a nod. Out of all of the reactions Root had faced, it was the most different- the calmest.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Root replied, giving them a grateful smile. They stood around awkwardly, looking at their feet. “Are you guys hungry?” Root suddenly said as a way to fill the silence. “I think I have leftovers from the service- finger food, maybe a couple of cookies? Chicken nuggets?”
Root hid a smile at the uncomfortable look on Michael’s face. “We’re good, thanks,”
Shaw shot him an annoyed look but remained silent.
“But we’d love to have you over for dinner tonight,” Michael offered, “So you aren’t alone.”
Shaw frowned at her husband. “Don’t you have to go to work early in the morning?”
Michael quickly shot her a glare, before smiling again at Root. “It’s fine, it’s fine, we’d love to have you,”
Root smiled at Shaw, who grumbled something in annoyance. “I would love to come over,” she said, smiling wider. “What time?”
“Six-thirty,” Michael said, before nudging Gen to stand up. “We have to finish packing, but please come over,”
“I’ll be there with a bottle of wine,” Root said cheerfully, escorting them out the door. “By the way, Michael, what do you do?”
“I’m an FBI agent,” he replied proudly. Root faltered in her steps, before quickly resuming her pace. Shaw watched her carefully.
“Wow, FBI,” she murmured to herself in disbelief. She cleared her throat. “Wow, impressive,” she said, louder this time.
Michael smiled. “Yeah, well,” he said with a shrug, “It feeds the family. We’ll see you in a few,”
Root shut the door behind them, her mind a whirl. This was it- this was perfect.
A genuine smile spread across her face. Root had found a way to stay in the United States.