Disclaimer: Sadly it's not mine.

A/N: If anyone has any Shoot prompts/suggestions/ideas I would love to have them :)

The One With the Dress

Root is so good at getting Shaw to do things she doesn't want to do.

"Hell no" Shaw grumbles, staring incredulously at the pink frilly abomination currently being thrust into her face. Root grins, giving the dress a shake so the layers of fabric twirl around. While she agreed it was well...hideous the machine insisted it was an important part of the mission plus all the blackmail material she would gather from this, should she be able to talk Shaw into the dress would be well worth it.

"Sorry sweetie, you don't have a choice" she replies, trying to keep the glee out of her voice and Shaw groans. If she had her way the dress would be burnt to ashes, as it was the heated glare she was giving it, as if she could set it on fire with her mind was enough to send even the bravest of men running in the other direction. Root was actually mildly surprised the dress didn't disintegrate under Shaw's intense glare, it would be doing the world a favour.

"The only way you are getting that thing on me is if you kill me first and even then I would still come back to haunt you" she threatens and Root smiles amused.

"As much as I would like to continue this debate we need to get going soon so we can either do this the easy way or the hard way and just between you and me?" she pauses for effect, leaning in so her breath gently brushes against Shaw's cheek. She's still staring back defiantly but there's a slight upturn to the corners of her lips. "I hope you choose the hard way." her voice drops several octaves and she lets her eyes roam suggestively over Shaw, taking in every inch of her. When she looks back up Shaw meets her gaze, stubbornness etched into her features.

"Bring it on."

The dress is cumbersome and itchy and Shaw scratches at it only to have Root bat her hands away. She glares at the hacker but the effect is lost amongst the layers of bright pink ruffles that currently adorn the Persian. She reminds Root of a grumpy child and she finds it oddly entertaining and well...cute. Adorable might be a more apt description but there is no way Shaw would tolerate it, she had already come within inches of gouging Reese's eyes out earlier that morning when he saw her wearing the dress. Wisely Harold hadn't said anything but Root caught the amusement in his eyes and was glad Shaw was too busy sulking to notice. She almost felt bad for her, almost being the key word.

She made a mental note to thank the machine for giving her Shaw's dress size.

Whilst the colour was not flattering to her skin tone and the layers of fabric that started mid waist and were edged with lace trim looked slightly over the top it hugged her body perfectly, showing off the hard lines and elegant curves. The dress did look a bit like a cupcake, now that she thought about it but if anyone could make it work it would be Shaw.

Even if she was going to rip the thing to shreds when this was all over. Root was looking forward to it.

She's broken out of her Shaw shaped daydream by a gentle hum in her good ear, alerting her to the number's presence. She makes eye contact with the nearest camera, which is positioned to their left at the park entrance and nods, letting her know they were ready. She catches sight of the number and Shaw follows her gaze, fixing her eyes on a heavyset woman a couple of hundred yards away, her neon yellow dress giving away the fact that she was the designer of a...rather unique clothing line. Currently she was looking for a new model and that was where Shaw came in, much to her annoyance. They still didn't know if she was a victim or perpetrator, from all outward appearances she was clean but looks could be deceiving.

"Just remember sweetie we need her to trust us. We still don't know who, if anyone is after her" Root says as they make their way towards the woman.

"Maybe it's someone who was forced to wear one of her creations" Shaw replies, her eyes still trained on the number. Root smiles, shaking her head. Both of them look away as they get closer to the woman, looking for all intensive purposes like two people out for a walk in the park. Root silently counts backwards in her head, waiting for the moment she sees them. A soft gasp sounds behind them, followed by the clicking of heels on pavement.

"Excuse me?" Root turns, a bright smile on her face and out of the corner of her eye she catches the annoyed look on Shaw's face before she turns to the woman, her smile wide and entirely too fake for Root to enjoy.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't help noticing your dress and how lovely you look in it. My name's Miranda and I'm a freelance fashion designer. I've been looking for a model for quite some time and you are simply exquisite" she finally takes a breath, tossing a wave of platinum blonde hair over her shoulder. Shaw smiles wider, doing her best to look interested but her shoulders are tense and Root places a hand between her shoulder blades to remind her to relax. And ok she doesn't like the way the woman looks Shaw up and down and she might be feeling slightly possessive.

"Oh thank-you" Shaw even manages to work up a blush and Root has to tamper down her growing dislike for the woman in front of them.

"Have you done any modelling before?" She asks, completely ignoring Root's presence.

"Not since high school" the lie slips easily off Shaw's tongue and Miranda's smile widens. Root tenses and just as she's about to cut into the conversation and remind her she's still here Shaw leans into the hand Root had forgotten was still on her back. It was barely perceptible but she's painfully aware of the rough texture of the fabric beneath her fingertips, warm from its contact with Shaw's skin and Root is really starting to hate the dress. She gets the hidden message in the action though she doesn't remove her hand and she backs out of the conversation, letting Shaw lead.

They chat for a few minutes, Miranda all but gushing when Shaw takes her card and agrees to call her. Root isn't sure how much more of this she can take and judging by the way Shaw has started to fidget neither could she. Thankfully they are broke out of conversation by the sound of gunfire and Root has never been more grateful for the distraction. She quickly pulls her guns out from under her oversized sweater and Shaw produces a handgun from beneath the layers of fabric. Root had to admit: she was impressed.

They usher a shocked Miranda backwards till they find cover behind a statue and return fire. She can't make out the shooter but Harold's voice soon fills her earpiece, informing her there are two armed men coming their way. She nods to Shaw, who also heard the conversation and silent communication passes between the two.

"Three..." Root counts.

"Two..." Shaw replies.

"One"

The dress ends up covered in dirt, gunpowder and blood (thankfully not Shaw's) and Root muses it's been a good day. She sighs as she sits on the couch, watching as Shaw toes off the bright pink heels she had given her to go with the dress. After successfully neutralising the threat to Miranda they had decided to go back to Shaw's place for a drink.

"Sameen, I'm curious. What colour underwear does one wear with a dress like that?" Root asks, her tone flirty. Shaw gives her a look that says she sees right through the hackers attempt to flirt with her. She changes direction mid-step, taking a detour in her trip to the bedroom as she stands in front of Root, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"Who says I'm wearing any?" Root's breath hitches and her eyes widen, a smile slowly breaking free.

Oh yes, today is definitely a good day.