Shaw eyed the zip ties and the hood warily.
"We've got 12 hours between now and then," Shaw pointed out, and Root put down the hood and zip ties with a sigh, bit back into her apple, eyeing her taser. Shaw rolled her eyes and took the taser from Root. "What are we going to do with him?" Shaw asked, and Root picked up one of the zip ties, waved it enticingly. Shaw grabbed it, tied up the agent and dragged him into the ironing closet.
"You carrying anything else? You know they're going to frisk you."
"You're welcome to frisk me first," Root said flirtatiously, and bit into her apple again, watching Shaw. Shaw tucked the taser into her pants, grabbed Root by the wrist and flung her against the wall. Root smiled as he cheek made impact, as she felt Shaw's boot kick her ankles outwards. "Mmm, make sure you check everywhere."
"You could've just handed them over," Shaw grumbled, her hands darting over Root's jacket, over Root's hips, pulling away with a lighter from a pocket, a gun from a waistband. She looked down at Root's legs and forewent the knees and ankles for now, not wanting to be kicked in the face. She spun Root around to face her, pinned her against the wall again, avoiding Root's gaze, avoiding Root's knowing smirk. Shaw pulled Root's jacket off, checked the lining, pulled out a knife from a seam that had been glued shut, a needle from between stitches, a small baggie of white powder behind a pocket. Shaw's pockets were nearly full now, but the loot kept coming. There was a fishing line threaded through the collar of the jacket, easily converted to a garotte. Shaw turned back to Root, eyed her shirt. Checked her earrings; one had a collapsible blade, the other could be used as a lockpick. The shirt, now. Shaw swallowed as she patted down over the shirt, knowing Root's smirk had grown and procreated across her face. Shaw skirted the breasts as quickly as she could, but even so she noted how soft they felt under her palms, how Root had pressed into her. She stopped at the sternum.
"What's in your bra?" Shaw asked, and Root sniggered.
"I think you know what I keep in my bra," Root said, and while Shaw was very aware of the fact that Root was simply tolerating this search for her own... jollies, or something, Shaw was also aware that Root wouldn't need a weapon to take her down. Shaw was also aware that Root was an adult who could easily have disarmed herself, but she pushed that thought away, reached under Root's shirt. There was a small switchblade between Root's breasts, and it had been designed to fit the curve of Root's body perfectly. Shaw wedged it into her own bra, noting that it fit pretty well, noting that it was unobtrusive, noting that it was still warm.
"Anything else?" Shaw asked, still not looking Root in the eye, and Root leaned back against the wall, jutted a hip and Shaw reached in again, pulled out Root's belt and found a dagger in the back end of the belt buckle, and a small pocket, filled with bullets. Shaw shucked on the belt as well. "They're not going to search me," Shaw said, a little apologetically. She dug into Root's waistband with her thumbs, found a small sewing kit and raised an eyebrow.
"I always need stitches," Root said, shrugging, and Shaw couldn't look away from the way Root's hair fell over her shoulders in a caramel waterfall. Shaw looked up then, saw Root's face, knew that as always that she was the mouse in this cat and mouse game. Shaw liked being in control. Shaw liked... Shaw liked a lot of things, but right now she especially liked the way Root was looking at her.
Shaw dragged Root over to the table, sat her atop it, reached down one leg, stopping at the knee. Another knife. Shaw peeled up the jeans, but Root wore such tight jeans that eventually Root sighed and shrugged them off, sitting back on the table with a knife taped to one knee, another gun strapped to the opposite ankle. Shaw pulled off the boots and gave them a cursory glance, then pulled off the gun and the knife, noting the soft skin of Root's calves, the hard bones of Root's knee. Shaw pulled out matches from one boot, and gunpowder out of the other. Even in just a shirt and underpants, Shaw wasn't sure she was finished, but she would rather she did this search than anyone else. Shaw put back the matches and the gunpowder, knowing they had been too well hidden to be found on a cursory search. She tucked the sewing kit and the white powder as well, for luck. Shaw looked over Root where she sat at the table, eyed her complacent smile.
"I don't think they'll be more thorough than this," Shaw said, hands itching to remove Root's shirt.
"Well, that leaves us with another 11 hours and a bit left over... and I'm unarmed... completely harmless. And you're so strong... you could completely overpower me..." Root said, and damned if the idea wasn't tantalising to Shaw.
"I did say I'd forget how I feel about you until all this is over, didn't I?" Shaw asked, stepping between Root's open knees. Root just about purred in satisfaction as Shaw grabbed her shirt by the collar and pulled Root in to kiss her. "But you're not getting out of here without a good spanking," Shaw followed up, pulling a detonator out of the waistband of Root's underpants.
Notes:
Just the old endless weapons trope