Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2023-02-10 05:49 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2023-02-10 05:49 pm
Fanfiction: Pressure Valve (Person of Interest, Reese/Shaw)
I had a dream where Shaw straddled Reese just to screw with him, and I woke up doomed to write this, in which the two of them have platonic sex(?) and Finch gets an earful.
Title: Pressure Valve
Fandom: Person of Interest
Rating: 15
Pairing: Reese/Shaw (with references to Root/Shaw, Reese/Zoe and Reese/Kara)
Wordcount: 1,400
Summary: Shaw zips up her suitcase, looks over the room for a moment. Looks at Reese. “You want to get some use out of this bed?”
Notes: Set around season three.
“Okay,” Shaw says, packing away her guns. “Number’s been saved, and we’ve got the hotel room for another night.” She zips up her suitcase, looks over the room for a moment. Looks at Reese. “You want to get some use out of this bed?”
Huh. Probably best to feel out exactly what she’s saying before making any assumptions.
“Kind of early to sleep,” Reese says, cautiously.
“We’ve just been in a shootout,” Shaw says. “Don’t know about you, but that doesn’t make me want to sleep; it makes me want to fuck.”
He knows what she means. But she hadn’t really registered as an option. He comes away from shootouts kind of generically horny, maybe with Zoe or Kara on his mind; he doesn’t come away thinking about sex with Shaw. “Didn’t think I was your type.”
“Yeah, I looked through Finch’s records from your old numbers,” Shaw says. “Saw the time you spotted that a suspect had a boyfriend, so you figured he couldn’t be in a relationship with a woman. Assumptions like that are gonna bite you some day, you know that?”
This feels dangerous. “You’re saying I am your type?”
“You’re not,” Shaw says. “And it’s not ’cause you’re a guy; it’s because you’re you. But you’re here and you’re convenient, so you wanna fuck or what?”
“Is Root going to kill me if I take you up on that?”
Shaw shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like we’re in a relationship. It’s like you and Zoe; we just hook up when she’s around.”
That may technically be true. But Reese gets the impression Root’s been angling for something more serious, and that might complicate things. “Doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Look, Root and I have an arrangement,” Shaw says. “This is definitely within the terms of that arrangement. Will she try to kill you anyway?” She spreads her hands. “Maybe. She’s Root. But we both know you can take care of yourself, so are you stalling because you’re scared of Root, you’re scared of me or you’re just not interested?”
Yeah, now that she mentions it, he’s stalling. Honestly, he’d be more at ease right now if she’d just pulled a gun on him instead. But Shaw’s not the only one who’s still wound up after that gunfight, and her offer isn’t exactly reducing the tension. “It doesn’t seem like a great idea.”
Shaw folds her arms, just barely starting to smile. “Sounds like the kind of thing you’d say if you’re interested.”
“Maybe,” Reese allows.
“Here’s how it is. Root’s out of town. It’s not like I’m swimming in options. Are you up for this, or am I gonna have to ask Finch?”
Reese raises his eyebrows.
A moment later, Finch’s voice comes through on his earpiece. “Ask me what, Ms Shaw?”
“Got the wrong person, Finch,” Reese says.
“As you seemed to be in conversation with each other, I’m speaking to both of you.”
“You’re watching us?” Shaw asks. “We don’t even have a number.”
“My systems are designed to alert me if you or Mr Reese mention my name,” Finch says.
“I mean, pretty crappy employer conduct,” Shaw says, “but you’re still not the worst boss I’ve had. What, you can’t take the idea we might be gossiping about you behind your back?”
“Hardly. It’s a measure to ensure I can offer assistance quickly when required.”
“Well, stay tuned,” Shaw says, “because you might be required. Depends on whether John here is up for the challenge.”
“What is it you need?” Finch asks.
Shaw sends Reese a smirk. “Got all this energy and nobody to fuck it out of me. Thought John might lend a hand.”
There’s an extremely long pause.
“Oh,” Finch says.
“Well,” Reese says. “If it’ll spare Finch.”
-
“First time you’ve slept with a colleague?” Shaw asks, tossing her tank top onto a chair. Reese is used to some level of undressing each other, the mutual intimacy of that, but Shaw’s just moved straight to stripping off with single-minded focus.
“Are we colleagues?” Reese asks, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Well, I don’t know what else you’d call us.”
Friends, maybe. But he wouldn’t call them that in front of Shaw. “Fair point.”
“So?” Shaw asks. “First time with a colleague?”
That level of focus again. Another person might have forgotten the question by now, moved on; maybe that’s what Reese was hoping for. But she’s still asking, and it’s Shaw, so he might as well answer. “No.”
It was similar with Kara. Hotel rooms, amped up after a shooting, sometimes covered in their own blood, sometimes covered in other people’s. A mutual understanding that this was just sex, that it would be stupid to expect anything else.
But he and Kara would kiss. Shaw’s already laid down a no-kissing rule. If you kiss me before Root gets the chance, she actually might kill you.
It’s probably simpler that way. He hadn’t realised Shaw was still holding Root at that kind of distance, though. No wonder there’s that weird contrast, Root still acting like she’s trying to win Shaw’s heart even when the two of them keep vanishing with a wave, a wink and a box of cable ties.
“Okay.” Shaw throws herself down onto the bed. It’s an impatient movement, all practicality and no seduction. “Let’s see why you come so highly rated.”
“Highly rated?” Reese asks, and then, “You talked to Zoe about me?”
“Yeah, well, don’t flatter yourself; I didn’t ask. She’s the one who brought it up.”
It’s a spotlight on the situation, it somehow throws how weird this is into sudden sharp relief. The people he’s slept with before have had clear lines drawn between them, different women at different stages of his life. They haven’t known each other, they haven’t talked to each other. But of course Zoe has talked to Shaw, and it makes sense that Reese would come up in the conversation; Shaw is his friend.
He’s standing here, half-undressed, and Shaw is sitting on a bed and waiting for him.
“This is a bad idea,” Reese says.
“Ugh, agreed,” Shaw mutters. “I’d better at least come to make up for it.”
They look at each other for a moment.
“If you want to leave, leave,” Shaw says.
There’s a line of blood along her cheekbone, under her right eye. One of the guys had had a knife, managed to graze her with it. She’d slammed him to the floor, held him down while Reese lined up his shot.
“I just said it was a bad idea,” Reese says. “I didn’t say anything about leaving.” He unbuckles his belt, pulls it out through the loops, holds it up for Shaw to see. “You think we can make use of this?”
Shaw grins.
-
“Hey,” Shaw pants out. “If we mention Finch’s name right now, do you think his system’s gonna make him listen to this?” She throws back her head and lets out an exaggerated moan.
They get their answer a moment later, in the form of a scandalised “Ms Shaw!”
Shaw collapses in silent laughter on top of Reese, and Reese doesn’t entirely manage to keep the laughter out of his own voice when he responds. “Looks like you’re learning a valuable lesson about giving us our privacy.”
“I’d already disconnected,” Finch says, indignant. “Ms Shaw intentionally and maliciously connected me again. I think your attitude to your own privacy is what warrants examination here. And I don’t know why you’re still wearing your earpieces in this situation.”
“What if we get a number?” Reese asks.
“I appreciate your dedication to the cause, Mr Reese, but I think this is one context in which we can afford to delay. I’m quite happy to take our next number on single-handed if it means I don’t have to hear any more of this.”
There’s the quiet blip of Finch ending contact.
“Finch?” Shaw asks, and then, “Hey, Finch?” and, when there’s no answer, “Fine. You’re gonna regret it if guys with guns burst in on us.”
It’s an image that sparks something in Reese, presses him to pull her toward him. No kissing, he remembers at the last instant, and he bites her shoulder instead.
“Oh, you like that?” Shaw asks. “Want me to hold you at gunpoint while you eat me out?”
Wouldn’t be the first time. She’s so like Kara sometimes, and it’s jarring whenever he notices it.
He can’t find the words. He just nods.
Title: Pressure Valve
Fandom: Person of Interest
Rating: 15
Pairing: Reese/Shaw (with references to Root/Shaw, Reese/Zoe and Reese/Kara)
Wordcount: 1,400
Summary: Shaw zips up her suitcase, looks over the room for a moment. Looks at Reese. “You want to get some use out of this bed?”
Notes: Set around season three.
“Okay,” Shaw says, packing away her guns. “Number’s been saved, and we’ve got the hotel room for another night.” She zips up her suitcase, looks over the room for a moment. Looks at Reese. “You want to get some use out of this bed?”
Huh. Probably best to feel out exactly what she’s saying before making any assumptions.
“Kind of early to sleep,” Reese says, cautiously.
“We’ve just been in a shootout,” Shaw says. “Don’t know about you, but that doesn’t make me want to sleep; it makes me want to fuck.”
He knows what she means. But she hadn’t really registered as an option. He comes away from shootouts kind of generically horny, maybe with Zoe or Kara on his mind; he doesn’t come away thinking about sex with Shaw. “Didn’t think I was your type.”
“Yeah, I looked through Finch’s records from your old numbers,” Shaw says. “Saw the time you spotted that a suspect had a boyfriend, so you figured he couldn’t be in a relationship with a woman. Assumptions like that are gonna bite you some day, you know that?”
This feels dangerous. “You’re saying I am your type?”
“You’re not,” Shaw says. “And it’s not ’cause you’re a guy; it’s because you’re you. But you’re here and you’re convenient, so you wanna fuck or what?”
“Is Root going to kill me if I take you up on that?”
Shaw shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like we’re in a relationship. It’s like you and Zoe; we just hook up when she’s around.”
That may technically be true. But Reese gets the impression Root’s been angling for something more serious, and that might complicate things. “Doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Look, Root and I have an arrangement,” Shaw says. “This is definitely within the terms of that arrangement. Will she try to kill you anyway?” She spreads her hands. “Maybe. She’s Root. But we both know you can take care of yourself, so are you stalling because you’re scared of Root, you’re scared of me or you’re just not interested?”
Yeah, now that she mentions it, he’s stalling. Honestly, he’d be more at ease right now if she’d just pulled a gun on him instead. But Shaw’s not the only one who’s still wound up after that gunfight, and her offer isn’t exactly reducing the tension. “It doesn’t seem like a great idea.”
Shaw folds her arms, just barely starting to smile. “Sounds like the kind of thing you’d say if you’re interested.”
“Maybe,” Reese allows.
“Here’s how it is. Root’s out of town. It’s not like I’m swimming in options. Are you up for this, or am I gonna have to ask Finch?”
Reese raises his eyebrows.
A moment later, Finch’s voice comes through on his earpiece. “Ask me what, Ms Shaw?”
“Got the wrong person, Finch,” Reese says.
“As you seemed to be in conversation with each other, I’m speaking to both of you.”
“You’re watching us?” Shaw asks. “We don’t even have a number.”
“My systems are designed to alert me if you or Mr Reese mention my name,” Finch says.
“I mean, pretty crappy employer conduct,” Shaw says, “but you’re still not the worst boss I’ve had. What, you can’t take the idea we might be gossiping about you behind your back?”
“Hardly. It’s a measure to ensure I can offer assistance quickly when required.”
“Well, stay tuned,” Shaw says, “because you might be required. Depends on whether John here is up for the challenge.”
“What is it you need?” Finch asks.
Shaw sends Reese a smirk. “Got all this energy and nobody to fuck it out of me. Thought John might lend a hand.”
There’s an extremely long pause.
“Oh,” Finch says.
“Well,” Reese says. “If it’ll spare Finch.”
“First time you’ve slept with a colleague?” Shaw asks, tossing her tank top onto a chair. Reese is used to some level of undressing each other, the mutual intimacy of that, but Shaw’s just moved straight to stripping off with single-minded focus.
“Are we colleagues?” Reese asks, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Well, I don’t know what else you’d call us.”
Friends, maybe. But he wouldn’t call them that in front of Shaw. “Fair point.”
“So?” Shaw asks. “First time with a colleague?”
That level of focus again. Another person might have forgotten the question by now, moved on; maybe that’s what Reese was hoping for. But she’s still asking, and it’s Shaw, so he might as well answer. “No.”
It was similar with Kara. Hotel rooms, amped up after a shooting, sometimes covered in their own blood, sometimes covered in other people’s. A mutual understanding that this was just sex, that it would be stupid to expect anything else.
But he and Kara would kiss. Shaw’s already laid down a no-kissing rule. If you kiss me before Root gets the chance, she actually might kill you.
It’s probably simpler that way. He hadn’t realised Shaw was still holding Root at that kind of distance, though. No wonder there’s that weird contrast, Root still acting like she’s trying to win Shaw’s heart even when the two of them keep vanishing with a wave, a wink and a box of cable ties.
“Okay.” Shaw throws herself down onto the bed. It’s an impatient movement, all practicality and no seduction. “Let’s see why you come so highly rated.”
“Highly rated?” Reese asks, and then, “You talked to Zoe about me?”
“Yeah, well, don’t flatter yourself; I didn’t ask. She’s the one who brought it up.”
It’s a spotlight on the situation, it somehow throws how weird this is into sudden sharp relief. The people he’s slept with before have had clear lines drawn between them, different women at different stages of his life. They haven’t known each other, they haven’t talked to each other. But of course Zoe has talked to Shaw, and it makes sense that Reese would come up in the conversation; Shaw is his friend.
He’s standing here, half-undressed, and Shaw is sitting on a bed and waiting for him.
“This is a bad idea,” Reese says.
“Ugh, agreed,” Shaw mutters. “I’d better at least come to make up for it.”
They look at each other for a moment.
“If you want to leave, leave,” Shaw says.
There’s a line of blood along her cheekbone, under her right eye. One of the guys had had a knife, managed to graze her with it. She’d slammed him to the floor, held him down while Reese lined up his shot.
“I just said it was a bad idea,” Reese says. “I didn’t say anything about leaving.” He unbuckles his belt, pulls it out through the loops, holds it up for Shaw to see. “You think we can make use of this?”
Shaw grins.
“Hey,” Shaw pants out. “If we mention Finch’s name right now, do you think his system’s gonna make him listen to this?” She throws back her head and lets out an exaggerated moan.
They get their answer a moment later, in the form of a scandalised “Ms Shaw!”
Shaw collapses in silent laughter on top of Reese, and Reese doesn’t entirely manage to keep the laughter out of his own voice when he responds. “Looks like you’re learning a valuable lesson about giving us our privacy.”
“I’d already disconnected,” Finch says, indignant. “Ms Shaw intentionally and maliciously connected me again. I think your attitude to your own privacy is what warrants examination here. And I don’t know why you’re still wearing your earpieces in this situation.”
“What if we get a number?” Reese asks.
“I appreciate your dedication to the cause, Mr Reese, but I think this is one context in which we can afford to delay. I’m quite happy to take our next number on single-handed if it means I don’t have to hear any more of this.”
There’s the quiet blip of Finch ending contact.
“Finch?” Shaw asks, and then, “Hey, Finch?” and, when there’s no answer, “Fine. You’re gonna regret it if guys with guns burst in on us.”
It’s an image that sparks something in Reese, presses him to pull her toward him. No kissing, he remembers at the last instant, and he bites her shoulder instead.
“Oh, you like that?” Shaw asks. “Want me to hold you at gunpoint while you eat me out?”
Wouldn’t be the first time. She’s so like Kara sometimes, and it’s jarring whenever he notices it.
He can’t find the words. He just nods.
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Glad to hear you've found a way to watch the rest of the show, too! I hope you enjoy it.