Shaw had Root backed against the door before it even closed.
"Shaw—" Root murmured. "If I had known having a pile of guns fall on me would be that much of a turn-on, I would have had Her arrange something months ago."
"Can you not talk about your special friend right now?" Shaw demanded briefly. Then she muttered something against Root's neck.
"What was that?" Root asked breathlessly, head tipped back against the heavy wood.
Shaw leaned back and Root tipped her head forward to meet Shaw's eyes.
"I said the guns were fucking hot," Shaw growled. She busied herself with the zipper of Root's jacket, but then the buttons on her blouse proved to be too slow in yielding.
"I like this shirt," Root reminded Shaw absently as buttons skittered across the floor.
Shaw merely grunted her indifference.
"You know—" Root gasped, "those guns gave me some pretty bad bruises." Shaw raised her head to give Root a quizzical look. "The least you could do is kiss them better."
Shaw rolled her eyes.
"I was," she pointed out, "until you interrupted with commentary. Besides," she lowered her head again, and Root groaned at the renewed contact, "you gonna tell me you didn't enjoy it?"
"This? Yes," Root answered throatily. "The cascade of weaponry," she choked on a stifled breath, "not so much."
"Really?" Shaw asked incredulously. "That would have been my favorite part."
"You would have liked it even more than when I—?" Root's retort was cut off by the route Shaw's hands and lips were tracing down her hips.
"Well, maybe not more than that," Shaw ceded. Root slid her hands into Shaw's hair as the other woman looked up at her from her waist, scratching a little at her scalp. "We can experiment and find out," she offered. "Could take all night."
They shared one last smirk before Root's head fell back with an involuntary moan, prompted by Shaw's swift attention to her pants zipper.
Based on one of the saner conversations I've had with ionizable over on AO3.