Sleep Therapy
The anger coming off one petite primary asset was enough for the rest of the people in the room to steer clear of a small radius around her.
"Ms. Shaw, tonight is finally a substantial enough time to check the Roth's room thoroughly. And with you and your teammates taking part along with them, they won't suspect any of you," Finch tried his hardest to reason with Shaw.
Shaw stood in front of him in Root and Reese's room with her hands over her chest and an extremely grumpy expression on her face, bordering on murderous glare towards the man in glasses. Her Mayhem Twin came to stand next to her with his arms crossed over his chest as well. Zoe, Fusco, and Bear were milling around the kitchen area.
"Where is Miss Groves?" asked Finch, the hacker had disappeared after the luau not returning back to her shared room with her fake hubby as quickly as the rest of the team.
"Well, obviously, she didn't want to take part in this silly ass mission anymore and took off," Shaw said in her most surly, salty tone and if that was truly the case she was going to spank the hell out of Root, not that she would enjoy that; okay maybe a little she admitted to herself.
Root entered the room, and everyone looked at her.
"Please, tell me you got enough evidence so we can skip this next session and go kick some serious ass," pleaded Shaw to Root.
"No, but I did get matching pajamas for John and me," smiled Root to her fake hubby. Reese turned his head to Shaw for a moment of pain and shared mutual annoyance.
"Try and take it easy on him tonight in bed," Zoe said rather suggestively to Root while Reese raised his eyebrows to both women in mild surprise.
"Hey there, Buttercup, did you get us matching pjs?" grinned Fusco to his fake wife.
"Baby, you would do well to wear chainmail tonight to bed," Shaw winked to Fusco.
Root wanted Shaw to call her baby, even if it was under false context.
Finch let out a heavy sigh; he had a feeling this was going to be a long night for everyone, except maybe Bear.
*****
Shaw and Fusco walked into the large conference room portioned off into four separate bedrooms, thankfully each cubicle like room had soundproof walls. Shaw did not want to hear what the other couples sounded like during the night, not even the one she was supposed to be watching or Root and Reese.
Joan followed behind the fake couple into the room with her clipboard and a very pissed off look on her face.
"You two are in room 3," Fusco walked into the room, then the pesky assistant whispered so only Shaw could hear, "…unless you want to join Sam and John in room 1."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Shaw with a scary tone and face back to Joan, who was shocked how fierce the shorter woman appeared now; it was if she was a different person.
Dr. Tinswell walked into the room and could feel the tension between the two women, "Joan, what is going on?" she asked thoughtfully and with curiosity.
"Nothing, just going over protocol here with Sammy," Joan gave a plastic smile to her boss.
Shaw squinted her eyes at Joan.
"Let's get you all tucked in with your husband Sammy," said Tinswell with a warm voice, she put her hand on Shaw's back and guided her into the room with Fusco; Joan followed behind them with her clipboard.
Tinswell instructed for Shaw and Fusco to lie down on the bed on their sides facing each other, they were instructed to keep gazing into each other's eyes, so they also tried not to shake their heads and add snarky comments.
"Let's practice some physical closeness," Tinswell said to the fake couple, Shaw and Fusco looked at each with their eyebrows raised.
Shaw leaned over and whispered in Fusco's ear, "I'm not spooning you, Lionel. And don't you dare spoon me."
Fusco then leaned over to his fake wife and whispered back to Shaw, "Believe me, no spoons or forks are going through my mind, only knives for this malarkey crap."
Tinswell smiled, thinking the fake couple were whispering terms of endearment to each other.
"First, Lionel and Sammy…I want you both to keep facing each other, look deeply into each other's eyes…take three deep breathes…exhale completely…make the whoosh sound," repeated Tinswell with big hand gestures.
Shaw rolled her eyes to Fusco, who smirked back while making an overdramatic whoosh sound. His firecracker fake wife followed suit, with an over-exaggerated whoosh.
"That's excellent. Now close your mouth and inhale…count to four…"
Tinswell observed Shaw and Fusco to make sure they were holding their breaths, "hold the precious breath of life for a count of seven."
"You know what I would like to inhale for a lot longer than four seconds…you," Shaw's eyes opened wider than she expected when Root's voice filled her head and, with just a few words, started overwhelming her senses.
Damn it Root, thought Shaw, who wished she had taken out her earpiece before starting this crap therapy session.
"Release the whoosh of life for a count of eight," Tinswell said while leaning over her participating couple, "…one…two…three….four…"
"My whoosh would last a lot longer than eight…mmmmmm…." Root moaned and did heavy breathing straight into Shaw's ear and smack into her groin.
Even the multi-tasker, extremely skilled petite primary asset Shaw was having a hard time focusing on Tinswell's breathing exercises with Root's lascivious breathing in her ear.
"…five…six…seven…and eight. Excellent," said Tinswell while giving a light pat on the arms of Fusco and Shaw. "You two have created four beautiful human beings…take deep breathes and remember the lovemaking that created these four humans occurred…step into that moment, savor it. Recreate it."
It took all of Shaw's strength not to let out the biggest snort, Fusco gave his fake wife a 'hey, it's not that ridiculous' look which made a wicked grin spread across even further across his partner's face.
"For this mental exercise of visualizing lovemaking with beloved Lionel, you can swap me in if it helps," Root chimed in, "No offense to Lionel, but I don't think he can make you scream like I can," the hacker croaked out hoarsely while her petite primary asset shifted uncomfortably on the bed with her fake hubby.
Tinswell moved Fusco's hand to place it on Shaw's chest over her heart and then the therapist did the same with Shaw's hand over Fusco's heart.
"Feel all the love between your two hearts," the therapist moved away for the couple to have some privacy and to share a moment.
"Or feel the wet heat between my…" Root teased in Shaw's ear.
"Root," Shaw gritted out very softly, her fake hubby heard it and got a bemused look on his face.
"Thinking of Cocoa Puffs?" whispered Fusco to Shaw with an amused grin, Shaw gave her fake hubby a death glare back.
Tinswell leaned and asked, "What was that? Lionel, is that a nickname for your wife?"
"My wife likes a bowl of cocoa puffs before she goes to sleep," said Fusco while his fake wife rolled her eyes.
Shaw then kicked Fusco hard in the back of his leg under the covers, which caused the detective to hold down a yelp slightly.
"Sammy, are you hungry? Do you need a snack or perhaps some cereal?" asked a concerned Tinswell to Shaw.
"Sameen, are you hungry? I am…" Root breathed heavily and added thick with innuendo, "….I like to be full of you."
"No, I'm good," Shaw said in hopes of shutting up both annoying woman.
Tinswell turned to Joan and said discreetly, so only her assistant could hear, "Write in the notes that Sammy does seem obsessed with cereal despite being possibly lactose intolerant."
Joan nodded and scribbled away on her clipboard. The therapist then moved back to Shaw and Fusco; she tried several attempts to get the couple to spoon successfully. The therapist tried many variations; however, the couple was very stiff together. It was as if the two people had never touched each other before despite been married for years and having conceived four children, a quite perplexing couple for the therapist.
"Shaw, you seem to be having trouble getting spoony. I'll have her play some mood music for you," chimed in Root in between Shaw, trying to listen to Tinswell on how to spoon her fake husband lovingly.
Then suddenly, Shaw's one ear was filled with Coldplay's music; she held down an epic grimace. Shaw wanted desperately to tear her earpiece out, but couldn't do so at the moment because of the close proximity of Tinswell.
Tinswell tried many variations between Fusco and Shaw then decided perhaps the couple sleeping with a few feet between them was good enough; she did convince them to hold hands.
The sappy Coldplay songs continued to play in Shaw's ears; Root was going to get it thought the petite non-spooner. Then suddenly, the music tapered off, and the petite primary asset heard the analog interface's voice again.
"Hey, Sweetie. Did you brush your teeth and floss? I could help you with flossing…well, a certain kind of flossing," Root's voice took an even more husky, heady stance.
Root's voice made Shaw's skin burn more; she rolled over and punched her pillow. The petite primary asset wanted to leave the room and find the hacker to floss her up or whatever. Root's stupid nonsense was now invading her brain.
"I need a little backup. Side entrance, two hallways over from where you are."
Shaw's mouth lifted into a little smile; finally, some action, she thought. She whispered to Fusco and slipped out of bed. As soon as she closed the partition behind her, boom Joan popped up, asking where she was going.
"Forgot to brush my teeth, is that okay?" asked Shaw in her most saccharine suck up approach and batted her eyelashes, she was going to prove to Root and stupid Joan she could be just as charming.
"If you're not back in four minutes, I'll come looking for you," Joan said very accusingly to Shaw and wrote something down on her clipboard.
Shaw wanted to break that clipboard in half but refrained.
"Peachy, thanks," Shaw said as she moved past the annoying assistant and down the hallway, looking for the exit that Root mentioned. She didn't want to leave the building in the hideous pajama pants she was wearing. When she got close to the door leading outside, she checked the area then slipped out. As soon as the door closed, she checked, and it locked. Damn it Root, she thought; now she was locked out and would possibly have to go through the main lobby to get back in.
"Hey," whispered Root as she appeared to Shaw's left side.
"Where the hell did you come from?" asked Shaw, annoyed. She looked up and down at Root, who was wearing demure, old 1940s style classy pajamas, which she imagined Reese to be wearing a matching pair.
Root looked up and down at Shaw's pajama pants and tank top. "Awww, Sameen. You're wearing my pajama pants," Root's smile beamed across her face as she put her hand on Shaw's hip and tugged at the Grumpy Cat pajama pants.
"Yeah, I figured my boring cover identity would probably wear some hideous pajama pants like yours, considering she's wearing matching tracksuits with her husband. So, where's the threat?" Shaw swatted Root's hand away from her hideous pajama pants, especially considering that the hacker was thirty seconds from slipping her hand down the front. "Are the scientists doing something? Cause The Roths are still trapped in sleep therapy hell."
Root had that faraway, concentrated look in her eyes when The Machine was talking to her; Shaw waited to make hurry up hand gestures a few times. The hacker looked in both directions and did a quick scan of the area.
"We got to hurry…this way," Root started running at a surprising speed that Shaw struggled to keep up in the hideous pajama pants.
They both ran down the beach, quite far until they finally stopped in front of the bar located next to the resort; the same place Shaw had shown off her crazed jellyfish karaoke skills. Root lead them around to the back, where they snuck in and saw two guys wearing ski masks holding guns, cleaning out a small vault, and a scared man bound and gag in an office. They both crouched, near the office door; lining the hallways were all kinds of memorabilia relating to boating, fishing, and Hawaiian culture.
"Just a small irrelevant matter She asked us to take care of. She also thought we needed some action," Root looked up and down Shaw's body, and then licked her lips.
Root nodded to Shaw, who locked eyes with her and they both grabbed a decorative boat oar off the wall, snuck up and smacked each guy in the face. Both bad guys fell down but got up pretty quickly. Shaw kicked him in the stomach, grabbed him by the collar, and punched him a few more times until he passed out. Root looked to her co-worker crush with an admiring smile while she went over and untied the captive man.
"Thank you both so much, they were going to take everything," the saved irrelevant number looked between both women with such gratitude, Shaw was busy finding some rope and tying up both perpetrators until the cops could arrive. The owner man then looked closely at Shaw, "Do I know you?"
Shaw stood up and looked to the owner, as both perpetrators were successful secured, "No, I don't think so." The petite primary asset was suddenly conscious of her hideous pajama pants.
"Got it! You look like someone who did a legendary karaoke set here the other day. Dude! We are still talking about her!" the owner looked star-struck at Shaw, then turned to Root before having a similar, less excited response to her face, "You look kind of familiar too."
The owner then turned around and rummaged through a bookcase full of tapes, CDS and DVDs; knocking over ones he didn't want. "You're the one she was singing too! Dude, when you jumped off the stage and lunged for her and the crowd went wild, knocking over those guys stopping you," the owner was clearly having fun recalling this memorable karaoke performance.
Shaw looked uncomfortable and gave a pointed look to Root.
"Well, we gotta run." Root paused to talk directly to the owner. "We would prefer you not mention us to the authorities," the hacker bent down and stilled the owner. He was still rummaging around shelves looking for something. Root gave him one of her truly mega watt smiles with her powerful brown magical eyes casting a spell over him.
The owner did look transfixed by Root, and then he snapped back to the bookcase, and as Root and Shaw were walking out the door, he yelled out, "I found it!" He ran over to them and pressed the DVD into Shaw's hands, "Here's the DVD of your performance the other night, one of our best. Do you mind if I use the video in social media marketing?"
Shaw seethed and was about to snap the DVD in half before Root yanked it out of her hand. The petite firecracker immediately reached for it, but the hacker raised her hand as high as she could, out of reach of the shorter woman. Shaw promptly tickled one of Root's overly sensitive spots roughly in her side. Root doubled over where Shaw grabbed back the DVD.
The owner watched the two women leave with a very puzzled look on his face. Then he yelled after them, "Thank you both! Free karaoke anytime!"
Shaw stormed out of the bar and started running back to the resort. She paused when she got close, and Root caught up to her. "I'm not going through the main lobby," Shaw huffed out, still holding onto the DVD with a death grip. Root reached for it and got her hand slapped.
"No, Joan is roaming the halls looking for you," Root grabbed Shaw's other hand and dragged her to the side entrance again.
"How does she not care that you're gone?" asked Shaw, not wanting to think that holding Root's hand was just as exhilarating as beating up those bad guys.
"Because I'm conditioning my hair," Root said, raising both her eyebrows with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I told her it was a twice-weekly ritual, and I couldn't change my beauty regime, then I offered for her to comb out my hair later," said Root while licking her lips, casting her magical brown eyes at Shaw.
Shaw squeezed hard on Root's hand, clearly not liking this motivation for Joan.
The Machine unlocked the side entrance for her analog interface and petite primary asset; they crept down the hallway towards the big conference room until Root pulled them into a dark empty room.
Root pushed Shaw down onto one of the tabletops in the dark empty conference room, and then pulled down the hideous pajama pants and Shaw's black boy shorts very aggressively. Root ran her hands up Shaw's thighs, dragging and digging her nails along. She lowered her face and started a trail of kisses up Shaw's thigh, as she got closer, she dragged her tongue across the flesh.
It all happened so fast, Shaw felt like her head was spinning, not that she was complaining; fast was needed in this situation. "Root…uhhhh…what about Joan?" Shaw croaked out in between begrudgingly labored breathing.
"The Machine is diverting her," Root replied quickly before going back and finally devouring her petite primary asset.
When Root's mouth finally landed where Shaw needed it the most, she thought her petite firecracker was going to squirm off the table from bucking her hips so roughly; she gripped and held on tighter. Root pushed her tongue deeply into Shaw, she felt Shaw shudder and then briefly, very unexpectedly quietly shout her name. The hacker was pretty sure her petite firecracker would never admit to shouting her name and so quickly.
Shaw's breathing barely calmed down when Root broke the silence, reluctantly. She unwillingly withdrew her face from between Shaw's legs.
"We gotta go. Joan is on the hunt again. She's pointed out once again we're both gone at the same time, despite my hair conditioning. I thought that orange thing would have helped."
"It helped in the way that she wants more orange time with you," Shaw scoffed.
"Well, you know…" Root replied back, "…your orange is the only one I want to squeeze the juices from."
They were both still for a moment; they locked eyes then locked their lips. The petite primary asset tangled her hands in the hacker's hair and held tight, Root wasn't getting away from her yet. The petite primary asset then ran her hand down to grab hold of the hacker's ass. Root held onto Shaw's hair tight as she opened her mouth wide to capture the petite asset's tongue between her lips and suck on it.
Root looked down at Shaw before moving off her, Shaw stared at her confused, still slightly calming her breathing and still completely turned on.
"I get it Sweetie, you have spent the last four nights with me. Are you going to miss me?" Root smirked at Shaw while grinding her hips hard into her petite primary asset.
"Yeah, that's not it," snapped back Shaw to Root, pushing harder into the hacker.
"Are you sure?"
Root looked at Shaw somewhat smug.
"Uh…just no time to…your know your taco…" Shaw cringed a little saying it because even though the words stung to say, she wanted to do the action, "didn't get…sauced."
"Well, who knows…I am about to get into bed with a tall, virile man."
Shaw didn't like this statement at all, so she reached down, slid her fingers through Root's pajama pants and underwear to find the hacker soaked through and through. Root lowered her head onto Shaw's shoulder; she acted as if she was going to lose balance even though she was lying on top of Shaw on a table. A loud whispered moan escaped the hacker's throat. Shaw didn't linger; she circled slowly and then swiped up and pulled her hand out from Roo'ts pants. Root whimpered at the lost. Shaw's fingers glistening in the dark, completely coated by Root's arousal where she put her fingers in her mouth and sucked on them. The hacker watched with glazed eyes hungrily. She then kissed Root hard, swirling her tongue in the hacker's mouth to make sure she could taste herself. Tasting herself on her favorite primary asset's lips almost made Root come undone completely. She didn't know how she was going to sleep at all tonight, except for fevered dreams of one sexy compact Persian primary asset.
They both got off the table and tried to make themselves presentable quickly.
"Don't let Reese hog the covers," Shaw glared at her, "Or better yet, you sleep under the covers, and he sleeps on top. So you're both not uh…under the covers at the same time."
Root couldn't help high wattage smile at her petite primary asset for not wanting her and Reese to be under bed covers together. She grabbed Shaw hard and kissed her again. She reached into her pocket and pulled out something and put it in Shaw's hands.
"A few things that might help you get through the night. Safety first. Later, sweetie."
*****
Joan was getting more and more confident and agitated, going up and down the halls looking for one cheating spouse. She had already checked the bathroom five times and still hadn't found Sammy yet. She checked her room, and she wasn't there either.
Tinswell appeared in the hallway in front of the conference room where the sleep therapy was being conducted. "Where is Sammy?"
"Well, she said she was going to brush her teeth, but she's not in the bathroom or anywhere else to be found. Once again, Dr. Tinswell, I have to point out that Sam is also absent…going back to my theory," Joan continued on while Tinswell walked to the bathroom. "She's not in there," said Joan with a smug face.
Tinswell opened the bathroom door, and Shaw was brushing her teeth. She turned to both of them and spat out. "Sorry, got a lot of pig from the luau stuck in my teeth," said Shaw as she started flossing.
When Shaw made it back to her assigned room and got back to her bed with Fusco, her fake husband woke up a little and whispered to her, "You smell like Cocoa Puffs."
Shaw could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. "I was brushing my teeth, asshole."
She then brought out what Root had given her, wax earplugs and a sleep mask. She inserted the wax earplugs and put on the mask. Shaw smelled herself discreetly, she did smell like Root, and she hated to admit that the smell might have helped her finally fall asleep while blocking out decibel breaking sound barriers of Fusco's snoring seeping in despite the wax earplugs strength.
*****
"Did you give Shaw a good night kiss?" whispered Reese to Root as she slipped into bed with him.
"In a manner of speaking. Did you want one, John?"
Root flung her leg over John's hip since he was under the covers, and she was on top; it was just the way Shaw wanted it. She wrapped her arm around his chest; he lifted up his head and raised his eyebrows to the hacker.
Suddenly, Dr. Tinswell's voice came over a speaker, "We can turn off the cameras if you need immediate, intimate time with each other."
Root smiled at John and raised her eyebrows to her male teammate.
"No, we're good," Reese replied to Tinswell while Root smirked at her fake hubby.
"My husband has a headache," said Root fake pouted as she flopped back down on her side of the bed.
"Well, clearly, their sexual problems are with John," said Joan to Tinswell, who nodded in agreement.
Root did have a fair amount of fun annoying John for the next few hours with flailing her arms across his face, kicking him with her legs and talking in her sleep, perhaps whispering 'Zoe' to him a few times. She threw in some moans saying 'Zoe' too for good annoyance measure.
*****
When morning finally rolled around, everyone participating in sleep therapy wandered out into the hallway looking exhausted with bags under their eyes; the older couple Betty and Fred were the only that looked remotely refreshed.
Fusco turned to Shaw, "Do you want to know that you were talking in your sleep?" the detective said in between yawns.
"Lionel, I'm a trained operative. I don't talk in my sleep," said Shaw, somewhat confidently.
"It was more like moaning. There was only one word repeated over and over," joked Fusco as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
"Lionel, stop right there. I'm shocked you could hear anything over your snoring," Shaw hit back just as Tinswell and Joan called out for the fake couple to talk privately.
Tinswell and Joan escorted Fusco and Shaw into a smaller room off the hallway that was set up with monitors for surveillance for all the makeshift rooms all throughout the night. They were seated; Tinswell told them she wanted to show them some footage from their sleep therapy session. Joan stood off to the side with her clipboard and a judgmental stance. For some reason, she didn't look tired, which made the annoying assistant even more annoying.
All Shaw wanted was a steak and a hot shower, yet she was once again in a private session with her fake husband and the two most irritating people in the world. Pancakes. She also wanted pancakes. Root. She wanted Root. No, she shook her head; she wanted steak pancakes. The petite primary asset realized she wasn't paying attention. Tinswell started the playback of the footage and motioned for the fake couple to watch.
The footage showed Shaw and Fusco sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. Shaw was on her side with the sleep mask on and hugging a pillow; Fusco was flat on his back, snoring up a storm. Then Shaw started moaning on the footage, very faint, but she was definitely moaning something and dreaming. And she hugged the pillow tighter.
"Sammy, it's hard to make out what it is you're repeating over and over. Boot or moot? Or root? It appears to be a dream of a sexual nature," said Tinswell speculating on the footage before them, she squinted her eyes as she studied.
Shaw wanted to smash something with her hands so violently or crawl under the table, or better yet smash the table to pieces. And throttle one insatiable hacker who invaded not only her personal space but also her headspace now. Damn Root, getting under her skin enough to have some silly ass wet dream. She could barely watch herself moaning the hacker's name over and over. It wasn't like they hadn't had sex; they had now. At least one and a half times, and it was too quick, and there needed to be a few times to get the hacker out of her system. Maybe a few long times with no interruptions. And maybe a few times that involved tying up the annoying hacker. And maybe a few times where Root could tie her up, but then that's it. The petite primary asset couldn't believe her brain was playing highlights at night, like rerunning the Olympics at night for the people who had to work during the day. Or a favorite TV show someone wants to watch over and over again. Shaw turned and looked at Fusco with a confused face.
The detective had a soft look on his face when he spoke to the therapist and her assistant; clearly, his teammate needed help on this one. "Okay, I admit…my baby cakes gave me these kick-ass boots for Christmas last year. They really get her going when I wear them if you know what I mean," Fusco said while gesturing with his hands.
Shaw was going to murder her fake husband.
"So sometimes, when we make whoopee…I wear them…because she gets really really really…"
"They get it," snapped Shaw to her fake, yet somewhat helpful husband.
Shaw was absolutely going to kill Fusco. Then Root. Then Dr. Tinswell. And Joan just for fun. She didn't know what was worse, listening to a fake account of her having sex with Fusco or that her fake persona thought he was hotter while wearing cowboy boots while knocking boots.
"Actually, it sounds like she's saying root to me," said Joan while squinting her eyes at Shaw. "Doctor could also be dendrophilia."
Fusco gave a wild, confused face to the doctor and assistant.
"True, I suppose it could be dendrophilia, however not all cases are sexual in nature, but this one could be," said Tinswell while thinking out loud and Joan writing down notes on her clipboard.
Joan could tell Fusco didn't know what the term meant from his bewildered expression; she directed her comment at him, "Dendrophilia is…."
"No, it's the boots…those damn boots," Shaw gritted out with her teeth before the words could leave her mouth. Before Tinswell could explain the definition of dendrophilia, Fusco just kept staring with bewildering looking between the three women. Shaw felt an intense hot rage at Root for the stupid sex dream she had about the hacker. She couldn't wait to find her and throttle her, but then again, that might be something they both enjoy.