Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shaw took a sip from her glass of whiskey - straight from the bottle, none of that fruity crap - and casually swiped a finger over the cleverly concealed bud in her ear.

"Care to tell me what I'm doing here, Finch? Did we get a new number?"

She let her eyes roam over her surroundings, taking in all possible threats and calculating how fast she could get to the exit if things went south.

The bar was packed, bodies filling every nook and cranny of the two-floor building, which would make it harder to pull off a quick getaway.

It also meant more casualties when shit went down.

At the very least, the music was of a quiet sort that still allowed some measure of normal conversation.

Finch's voice crackled to life in her ear.

"I'm afraid I am not the right person to ask, Miss Shaw."

Shaw arched an eyebrow, but otherwise concentrated on her drink. "You were the one who told me to come here."

"Not quite," he muttered.

A sense of unease crept up the back of her neck and she didn't even need to ask the obvious question. The purred 'Hello, Sameen' that replaced Harold's voice didn't come as a surprise, but it did force a grimace onto Shaw's face.

The bartender glanced at her, but wisely decided to go back to polishing glasses when she shot him a dark look of her own.

"Oh look, it's the psycho. Can't even be bothered to kidnap me yourself anymore? "

Root sighed theatrically and the sound crackled uncomfortably in Shaw's ear. "Believe me, I'm just as disappointed as you are. Helpless is such a good look for you."

Shaw growled. She was never helpless.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it," the hacker tutted, in the same high-pitched tone she used when she lured Bear towards a doggie treat...or was about to tie you to a chair and maul your face with a flat iron. "I like every look on you."

"Yeah?" Shaw whispered, not even caring that the bartender was probably peeing his pants at the glare she aimed in his general direction. "Then maybe we should see how you like my 'about to tear out your entrails and choke you with them' look."

Root hummed in the back of her throat and it sounded entirely too appreciative. Like she was tasting some really good wine or was about to have some really good...-

Shaw downed the rest of her whiskey in one gulp.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Shaw. A girl can only take so much."

The tone was joking, but there was an underlying tension that Shaw studiously ignored.

A pointed cough from Finch's end put a stop to their banter, at least momentarily.

"As I was saying, I believe Miss Groves will be better able to relay the...objective of this mission."

Shaw raised her hand and ordered another whiskey, most of which ended up on the counter in the bartender's haste. "Does it involve the bartender's head on a pike?" she grumbled, shaking droplets of alcohol from her wrist.

"As stimulating as I find your work," Root said, her emphasis on the word 'stimulating' causing Shaw to roll her eyes. "This is strictly a reconnaissance mission. We're just here to watch."

"Then what the hell do you need me for? John is the guy who likes standing in one spot for hours to watch people." She stopped, realizing what Root had said. "Wait, we?"

Shaw registered movement in the corners of  her vision, and then Root settled down into the seat next to her, idly sipping from her glass - something foamy and pink and no doubt disgusting.

Root smiled brightly at her, licking the left-over foam from her bottom lip. "Did you really think I'd let you have all the fun?"

"One can hope," Shaw muttered gruffly. "So what are we here for?"

The hacker's grin grew impossibly wider and experience told Shaw that whatever came out of Root's mouth next would make her want to rip that smile right off her face.

"For our romantic date, of course." She fluttered her eyelashes, shifting closer and laying a hand on Shaw's forearm.

Shaw was right. She did feel like ripping off Root's face now. Mindful of the people around her, she settled for pulling her arm away from the other woman and sending her a glare instead.

Root lowered her head, speaking quietly. "Careful, Shaw. You'll blow our cover."

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck right now," the agent whispered, flexing her fingers around the glass of whiskey.

There wasn't even a single twitch in Root's face as she reached out again and threaded her fingers through Shaw's. She gave a silvery laugh, like Shaw hadn't just threatened to kill her (again).

"I promise it's just us tonight, baby. Don't be mad at me anymore," she pleaded, loud enough for the people around them to hear. Shaw's cheek twitched and it took an immense amount of self-control to keep her stiff fingers beneath Root's, at least temporarily.

She ground her teeth as Root leaned in close, lips almost touching her ear, strands of brown hair tickling the tops of Shaw's shoulders. One wrong word and Shaw was going to deck her so hard, even the goddamned machine would feel it.

"We're here for someone named Walter Stills," Root murmured, sending warm breath over the shell of Shaw's ear. The agent shivered.

"And what? We're supposed to save him?"

Root hummed, lightly nuzzling into the space behind her ear. Shaw forced a smile and squeezed the hand in hers hard enough to hear the bones creak. She took great satisfaction in the small, pained gasp Root breathed against her neck.

"Not quite." Root wisely decided to not risk Shaw's ire for now and stopped her unwelcome fondling. "He's a successful investment banker who has recently come to Her attention for having a bit of an unusual hobby."

Shaw raised an eyebrow. "What does he do? Hack into government feeds? Build little baby machines that could put us out of business?"

"Nothing so sophisticated. Try stalking. Apparently, dear Walter has a thing for lesbians ever since his wife left him for one two years ago."

The agent looked around subtly. "Does he kill them?"

Root shook her head, wisps of her hair brushing against Shaw's cheek. "Not yet. Beyond following them and taking a few photographs, he's been acting quite tame."

"Then wouldn't his number have come up if he was planning on killing someone this time?"

"Yes, but we're not here for that."

Shaw glanced at Root, frowning. "Care to elaborate?" she growled, frustration rising at Root's ever-evasive answers.

The hacker smirked, running her thumb over the back of Shaw's hand. It twitched nervously.

"Walter Stills isn't just a stalker. He also happens to be one of the people providing funds for Decima."

Shaw's eyes widened in understanding. "So we're playing bait in the hopes of..."

"...killing two birds with one stone, yes."

Root finally pulled back (not without another purposeful puff of hot breath in the agent's ear, of course) and emptied her glass with a long drag.

Shaw shuddered, eyeing her warily. "How can you drink that stuff? It's disgusting."

The hacker gave the bartender a bright smile and he coughed, cheeks reddening, before hurrying to bring her another foamy pink monstrosity.

Shaw scowled at him. The guy was starting to grate on her.

"I like it sweet."

Shaw rolled her eyes at the smoldering look Root directed at her. Then she smiled. "Or maybe you just can't handle a proper drink."

Root shrugged and slipped from her stool to stand. "She wouldn't want me to lose my focus during a mission."

The reason seemed sound, but Shaw didn't feel like letting her off the hook. "In other words, little Root can't handle her alcohol and has to stick to the girly stuff. That's cute."

For the first time that evening, a hint of annoyance crossed the hacker's features. Shaw barely kept the smug smile from her face. Serves her right for being so damn obnoxious all the fucking time.

She was dismayed to see Root's expression turn from mildly annoyed to mischievous in the span of a few seconds.

"Not as cute as you thinking you can provoke me." Root plucked the almost full glass of whiskey from Shaw's fingers in a single, fluid motion and brought it to her lips. The hacker's eyes never left hers as she closed her lips around the rim, right where Shaw's had been just a few moment before, and tipped her head back.

Shaw gulped, mouth dry as dust, watching the slow, even movement of Root's throat as the hacker swallowed gulp after gulp of the sharp liquid.

Root made a satisfied sound when she'd finished and caught Shaw's eyes again. A single droplet of liquid still hung onto the rim and Root opened her mouth, tongue darting out to lick it up.

"Satisfied?"

Shaw hated the heat that trickled down her spine and pooled low in her belly at the display, hated the image of Root’s tongue paying attention to something entirely different that ran rampant in her mind, and she hated the knowing look on Root's face even more.

"I'm not paying for that whiskey, just so you know," she growled and took her glass back, banging it on the counter with way more force than necessary.

"Didn't expect you to, Sam," Root grinned and grabbed Shaw's arm. "Come on, She tells me he'll show up any minute."

Shaw followed the other woman and couldn't help but notice that despite Root's unaffected manner, she wobbled on her high heels, just a tad. Maybe goading her hadn't been such a good idea.

The crowd had thickened in the last few minutes and only now did Shaw notice that there were a lot of same-sex couples about. Not exclusively, but more than enough to provide a tempting target to a psychopath bent on revenge.

With a smug raise of her eyebrow, Shaw snagged herself the last free seat, sinking into the soft leather cushion with a satisfied sigh and looking up at Root through lowered lashes. She didn't like having to crane her head anymore than she usually did, but the look of indulgent annoyance on the Hacker's face was entirely worth it.

"No seat left," she intoned monotonously. "Pity."

With a blinding smile, the kind that made Shaw want to rip her apart at the seams, but also made her pants feel uncomfortably tight – and thus made her thirst for violence just that much more prominent – Root draped herself over Shaw’s lap.

“Don’t forget, we’re supposed to be a happy couple,” she breathed, shifting until she’d found a comfortable position for her long legs.

Shaw gritted her teeth. “Get off me, Root.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetie,” Root trilled, once again loud enough for the nearby patrons to hear. “I promise to make it up to you when we get out of here later.”

The thought sent an uncomfortable shiver of arousal up Shaw’s spine and she willed her cock to stay soft. She’d rather send all her guns to Decima in a gift basket than get a boner in the middle of a crowded bar just because Root’s ass happened to be not quite as awful as her personality.

Just because it was pressing and brushing against her every time Root shifted around to get a better look at the people streaming into the building.

“Shit,” she grumbled.

“What was that, Sweetie?”

Shaw scowled at her. “I said, sit still. All your wiggling around is fucking annoying.”

When Root merely smirked and took a sip of her drink, Shaw’s expression darkened and she glared over to the bartender until he broke off his conversation and hurried over to bring her another glass of whiskey.

If she had to spend the evening with Root on top of her, she’d damn sure not do it sober.

“Is he here yet?” Shaw asked tersely, her fingers twitching around her glass. “If I don’t get to shoot something, I’ve got better things to do than sit around here with you.”

Root leaned down, trailing a hand up Shaw’s stomach and pressing closer to her. “He’s over at the bar. Watching,” she whispered into her ear, and Shaw’s cock stirred despite her best intention.

Subtly, she let her gaze wander around the bar until she’d caught sight of him. It wasn’t hard. The dude was about as subtle as a brick to the face with his mismatched jacket and pants, unkempt appearance and nervous, shifty eyes.

He screamed revenge murder.

“Great, we got him. Do your thing so I can get out of here.”

Root frowned, her lips twisting into a disappointed pout. Shaw hated the disappointed pout. “No reason to be so impatient, Shaw. I need the laptop in his briefcase, but doing it here would draw unnecessary attention. We’ll have to catch his eye and get him out of this bar.”

One of her hands slid around Shaw’s neck to play with her hair as she shifted again, making Shaw huff through her nose.

“It shouldn’t be difficult. His wife just so happened to be a tall brunette and according to his…rather colourful browser history, he also has a bit of a thing for the exotic type.”

Shaw grimaced. “Wonderful.”

The thought of some creeper getting off on watching her and Root wasn’t her idea of fun, but it did make her beginning erection wilt back into nothingness.

“Let me use my weapon and he’ll give us the fucking laptop.”

Shaw blinked and jerked when Root tugged sharply at the strands of hair between her fingers with a quiet ‘tsk tsk’. “All in good time.”

She gave another pull and Shaw attempted to ignore the pain – and more importantly, how it made the blood in her brain travel decidedly further south. She’d just gotten rid of that pesky arousal and she was in no mood to give Root more ammunition.

“Fine,” Shaw groused, sinking further into the leather chair. It only pushed her hips harder into the curve of Root’s ass. “What do you wanna do?”

The Hacker raised a mischievous brow. Her palm cupped the back of Shaw’s neck and her nails pressed threateningly into the side of her throat, the fingers of her other hand resting against the Agent’s waist.

“Well, we could-“

“Forget it.” Shaw pulled the hands away from her body with a glare, just so stopping herself from shoving Root right off her lap. She’d probably look good on the floor, kneeling between her legs- Shaw shook her head. “You’re lucky I haven’t broken one of your limbs yet.”

The expression on Root’s face turned from perky to mock-hurt. “Are you accusing me of taking advantage of my position?”

“Bingo.”

There had never been a moment in which Root had not taken advantage of every possible angle – it was something the Agent reluctantly admired about her.

Root hummed in the back of her throat. “Well then, I hope your acting skills are better than your people skills.”

And suddenly she was all but on top of Shaw, her face pushing almost close enough to touch and her hair falling to cover them both. Root didn’t try to kiss her – thankfully, as Shaw was already contemplating murder as it was – but her lips hovered close enough to make the distinction invisible to the people around them.

“Move, Shaw,” Root murmured, her breath – sweet and alcoholic, way too much of that fruity crap – fanning over Shaw’s lips. “Or dear Walter is gonna think you’re not interested.”

“I’m not.” Shaw knew her growling was ineffective at best, especially since her fingers started moving on their own accord to spread one hand over Root’s back and grab her thigh with the other.

Root chuckled.

“You know what they say about lies, don’t you?”

“What?” Shaw shifted and dug her fingers into Root’s flesh. She wasn’t particularly interested in whatever the nutcase had to say, but it was better than remembering that Root’s dress was short enough to pose absolutely zero resistance to wandering hands or that the bar was packed enough that no one would notice if Shaw decided to take advantage of it.

“The worst ones are those we tell ourselves.”

On any other night, that kind of nerdy-ass pretentious shit would have earned Root a glare and an eye-roll, but Shaw was hard-pressed to do anything but suppress a groan when long fingers slipped between them and cupped her newly-formed erection through her pants.

“Root, I will break your hand,” Shaw warned. They both knew that it wasn’t an empty threat – Shaw would and had broken bones for much lesser offences than groping her in public. Root was skilled and agile, but not very strong.

If Shaw felt like it, she could push her away and to the ground without breaking a sweat. She could grab her hair and order her to suck her cock and Root wouldn’t have much of a choice – or much in the way of protest, Shaw wagered.

She didn’t move to get Root off her and a part of Shaw was angered that a nutcase like Root somehow managed to keep her still and tame in her seat.

“You can break me as much as you want.” The hand on Shaw’s crotch tightened, blunt fingernails dragging along the course material of her pants. Her jeans were getting to be uncomfortable – too tight, too warm and too restrictive. “But only after little Walter decides to come out and play.”

Shaw grimaced at the image. Unfortunately, it did nothing to lessen the pulsing in her lower abdomen or the sudden quickness of her breath.

She threw a quick glance at the bar under the pretense of shifting to give Root better access, scanning the throng of people – he wasn’t there.

“Root,” she growled, steadfastly ignoring the fingers massaging her rock-hard length. “The dude is gone.”

There was the slightest hitch in the Hacker’s movements – proof that she’d gotten caught up – before Root straightened and stretched one leg over Shaw’s to sit astride her lap. “Don’t worry, Sameen, I’ll take care of it.”

“This is your idea of finding him?” Shaw’s jaw twitched at the new position as her eyes inadvertently darted down to take in the expanse of skin revealed by Root’s hiked-up skirt.

“So little faith,” Root tutted, reaching up to pat Shaw’s cheek. “He’s right over there. Watching us, I might add.”

She gestured subtly to a spot behind Shaw and smirked, rolling her hips slowly.

“Well, watching me.”

“Don’t tell me you get off on being watched by some creep.” For Root’s sake, Shaw hoped the answer was a clear no – otherwise this mission was gonna end right there.

The Hacker pursed her lips and smoothed her palms over Shaw’s chest, pretending to think about the question for a few long moments. Far too long, Shaw acknowledged with a glare down at Root’s lazily rotating hips.

“Hmm, no,” Root finally decided and stopped the movements of her body completely, rising on her knees to rob them of all contact. Shaw cursed under her breath. “Although you seem rather happy to be where you are.”

Shaw opened her mouth to respond with the most cutting insult she could think of (except she hadn’t been able to be truly mean to Root in some time, regardless of how fucking annoying she was), but stopped short at the sound of the button of her pants popping open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed, head snapping around to see if anyone had noticed Root pulling down her zipper. The people around them were absorbed in their drinks or in their conversations and the arm rests served to hide the object of Root’s attention – mostly.

Root grinned brightly. “You’re very hard, Sweetie. That can’t be comfortable.”

She was and it wasn’t, but neither did she feel comfortable giving anyone who cared to look a free peep-show. Or giving Root cause to think that she was free to feel her up whenever she wished.

She caught the Hacker’s wrist in a crushing grip before it could slip beneath her waistband.

“If you think I’m gonna let you jack me off in some seedy bar, then-“

Hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear as Root leaned in. “We have to keep our mark’s attention somehow, Shaw. He needs to be blinded enough to follow me out when I leave.”

Shaw found it very hard to argue – or comprehend what Root was saying – when the Hacker’s lips traveled down the side of her neck, teeth closing around her pulse point.

Root bit down hard and Shaw stifled a groan even as her straining erection did the talking for her.

When she felt cool fingers start to wander beneath her waistband, she let them. She jerked, uncontrolled, as Root’s cool skin made contact with the hard, aching flesh of her cock and wrapped around it, both soothing and stoking the flames of arousal licking at Shaw’s spine.

The thrum of voices and music in the background merged into a quiet, continuous drone.

Shaw looked down to watch as Root plucked the fabric of her underwear away from her skin to pull her erection free with a gentle tug.

A half-lidded stare and a quirk of her lips was Root’s only reaction as placed the tip of a finger on the swollen head, happily making the appendage sway to and fro.

“Root,” Shaw warned darkly and buried her nails into the leather of the arm rests to avoid forcing the Hacker into action. Root was toying with her and Shaw was tired of it – they were in a bar full of people who only had to look down to see what was going on, some asshole was probably far too interested in what they were doing and Shaw didn’t care.

She was horny and impossibly hard and Root better stop playing.

“What is it, Sweetie?” The grin on Root’s face didn’t waver as she swirled her finger around the tip of Shaw’s cock, spreading pre-cum around the hot flesh.

Shaw didn’t answer. She bucked her hips as best as she was able and grunted for good measure – she wouldn’t give Root the satisfaction of voicing what she wanted. Not when it was all Root’s own fucking fault with her goddamn smirk and her too-goddamned-short dress.

“Well, if you want to play It like that,” Root sighed and suddenly slim fingers closed around Shaw’s length and squeezed, pleasure rippling up her spine in waves. “I suppose we’ll skip the foreplay.”

Shaw jerked and drove her teeth into her lower lip – no one was paying attention to them, not yet, and Shaw wouldn’t admit it, not ever, but Root was good at what she did (because of course she was) and for the first time in her life, Shaw got why some people were moaners.

The Hacker’s palm was soft as it glided from base to head, although the callouses Shaw knew all too well – evidence of a life spent holding and firing guns – provided a pleasing contrast as they swept over her skin.

The pace was slow. Frustrating.

Root’s eyes were bright and interested as she seemed to commit the slopes and bumps of Shaw’s cock to memory. Her fingers trailed back down to close around the base and when she repeated her earlier upwards movement, her wrist twisted in a way that made the heat in Shaw’s belly coil dangerously.

As much as Shaw hated admitting it, she’d been ready for this from the moment Root had sat down at the bar and it showed in her tense shoulders and stiff spine, the force she had to use to stop her hips from rocking.

The ball of fire growing in her belly and threatening to spill over far too soon.

“I wonder how long you could last like this,” Root pondered idly, ducking her head to brush her lips over Shaw’s earlobe. “Do you want me to go slower?”

The slide of her hand slowed to a crawl and Shaw’s jaw locked, teeth pressing together so hard she thought they might break. “Don’t.”

There was a spark in Root’s eyes that told Shaw that she’d made a mistake, that she’d somehow lost the little game they’d been playing. Root’s lips parted in a wide, happy smile and Shaw knew she shouldn’t have let this gotten so far, should have bolted the moment Root had come up with this shitty pretend date idea.

“Faster, then?”

And suddenly Root’s hand was moving, hot and wet from pre-cum, tight and firm as she established a rhythm that made the edges of Shaw’s vision turn a blinding white. Shaw groaned and barely had enough presence of mind to affirm that she hadn’t just alerted the entire bar crowd to the hand-job taking place in their midst.

Whether out of a sudden awareness of the people around them or by accident, Root leaned forward to better hide her movements from sight, putting them almost face-to-face. Her eyes held a spark that might have been caused by the alcohol or her enjoyment of torture or both, Shaw couldn’t be sure.

“Like that better, Sweetie?”

Shaw growled and turned her head to the side. The sparks shooting up her back were making it hard to speak, the sensation of a warm hand squeezing – milking – her driving the pounding in her gut higher and higher. Her hips trembled.

With every expertly timed twist of Root’s wrist, the feelings intensified, multiplied until the zaps of electricity turned into a constant stream of sparks. Shaw’s mind was clouded and the people around them faded into nothingness as her focus drifted back to the heat between them, to the bare legs on either side of her and the inviting space between them.

She didn’t give a shit that it would most likely get them thrown out, she wanted to pull Root forward and fuck her properly – and she would if her arms didn’t feel like jelly or if the tight grip on her member didn’t keep her rooted to the spot.

Or if she didn’t think any more movement would make her come.

“Oh? What is it, Sameen?” Root asked, the false worry in her voice creating an angry pounding in Shaw’s head. “You’re not close yet, are you?”

Root’s rhythmic movements didn’t falter as she spoke, the pad of a finger now swiping over the sensitive spot on the underside of Shaw’s cock with ever upwards glide. There was no doubt in Shaw’s mind that Root knew exactly how close she was and that she took great joy in mocking her for it.

Her climax bubbled just underneath the surface – just another few strokes and Shaw would make a mess of both of their clothes. No way to hide how much Root affected her then.

The pulsing in her gut contracted, centered to a single spot before expanding as Root drew it out with every slippery slide of her hand.

Shaw clenched her eyes shut.

Her balls drew up, hips lifting off the seat in preparation of her orgasm, teeth pressing together to starve off the moan of release and Root didn’t slow down, didn’t say another word until the concentrated knot of arousal at the base of Shaw’s spine loosened and uncoiled-

And then she stopped.

The hand around Shaw’s length vanished, leaving her cock – wet, angry red and impossibly hard – to twitch uselessly in the suddenly cool air.

“What-“ Shaw’s eyes flew open, the blood rushing to her face an effect of both arousal and rage and Root wasn’t even looking at her, her eyes focused somewhere above Shaw’s shoulder.

“Hmm, I think we caught dear Walter’s attention,” the Hacker hummed merrily, ignoring the death glare aimed at her. “Guess it’s time to complete the mission.”

Root straightened and tugged her clothes back into a semblance of order, or as much as she could while still sitting on Shaw’s lap.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Shaw’s disbelieving gaze flitted between Root’s disgustingly self-satisfied expression and her own cock – still painfully ready for that final bit of attention.

The Hacker cocked her head to the side. “To get Walter’s laptop, of course.”

“You can’t just-“

“Aw, Sweetie, don’t be a killjoy.”

Shaw was very ready to show her just how much of her joy she could kill – preferably with one or two of her favourite guns – but it was hard to appear threatening when her balls were blue enough to glow in the dark.

She was too flabbergasted to fend off the kiss Root pressed to her cheek.

“Might want to cover up, Shaw,” Root whispered, the hot breath in Shaw’s ear causing a frustrated tick in her cheek. “Public indecency is a crime, after all.”

There was barely enough time to stuff her dick back into her pants before Root climbed off her and shook out her hair as though nothing had happened.

“This is not over,” Shaw snarled, back bent awkwardly in hopes of making her situation less uncomfortable – or at least less obvious.

Root stretched languidly. “You said you didn’t want me to jack you off in some seedy bar. And I would never want to make you uncomfortable.”

The words dripped with the childish kind of innocence Shaw so very much hated and her hands twitched, bones itching to show Root just where she could shove her games.

“Besides,” Root said, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s all for the mission, right?”

Before Shaw could decide that the consequences were worth the pleasure of springing from her seat and taking Root down that instant, the Hacker had already turned on her heels and swaggered out of the bar – followed closely by the uneven gait of their mark.

Not minutes later, her ear piece buzzed to life.

“Miss Shaw, might I inquire as to why Miss Groves has decided it is in her best interest to ‘lay low’ for the next few days?”

Shaw bared her teeth at the nervous timbre in Finch’s voice. “That’s all she told you?”

“Well,” he said and cleared his throat. “She did mention a…personal disagreement?”

The tick in Shaw’s cheek returned.

“You better hope she does stay away for a while. Because next time I see her, she’s dead.”

Finch squeaked.