Cold Feet
There were lots of things Shaw loved about Root. She was brilliant, confident, and sassy as hell. She could handle a gun (or two or three) and hold her own in a fight. And she looked and walked like a freakin runway model (well, sometimes. Other times she was as gangly and clumsy as a baby giraffe. Shaw will never admit it out loud, but it’s kind of adorable).
There were also a few things that really bothered Shaw. Like the fact that Root threw herself headfirst into danger without thinking. Or how she delighted in seeing how riled up she could make Shaw in public. Or how she was constantly leaving computer parts all over the apartment. However, there was one thing that bugged Shaw more than any of these:
“Jesus Root! You do this every fucking night. Go buy some damn socks or something.“
Root giggled from behind Shaw, but didn’t move her feet. Which were fucking freezing. And currently resting against Shaw’s bare back. You would think a queen size bed would mean plenty of space. But Root liked to cuddle and Shaw didn’t mind. However, Shaw absolutely did mind that Root was always using her as a foot warmer. Because apparently having such long and graceful limbs meant a lack of circulation to Root’s extremities. There was simply no other explanation for the fact that Shaw could not seem to escape Root’s constantly cold feet.
"Oh come on Sameen, my feet are cold!” Root whined “And it’s not like I can wear socks to bed, that’s weird.”
Shaw rolled over and yanked her shirt back down “You absolutely can wear socks to bed Root. Or fucking coals stuffed in your sheets. Or anything. Because now I’m cold and it’s all your fault.”
Root’s face was hidden in shadow, her head silhouetted by the light from the window behind her, but Shaw could practically feel her mock-pouting. She rolled her eyes and shuffled closer.
Root smirked into the darkness and wrapped her arms around Shaw, intertwining their legs as she hummed "Why Sameen, do you want me to warm you up? Because I have a few ideas.“
Shaw pulled Root closer, nuzzling into her neck and humming against her skin "I just wanted you close so you can’t put your stupid ice-box feet on my back”.
Root giggled before grabbing Shaw’s shoulders and pushing her to arm’s length. She brought her knees up to her chest and pushed.
“Goddammit Root that is not what I meant!! Get your feet off my stomach!” Shaw scrambled back and Root rolled away, nearly falling off the bed and gasping for breath between bouts of hysterical laughter.
Root felt hands tug at her wrists and the laughter died in her throat. Shaw bracketed her hips, pinning her hands above her head and leaning in low. Root suddenly found herself entirely too warm.
“You are absolutely going to make that up to me” Shaw growled.
Root smirked. “Don’t worry Sameen, I’m sure I can think of plenty of ways to make it up to you.”
Okay, so Root’s feet were always cold, Shaw was pretty sure she could live with that.