Prompt from Nesi23: Domestic AU: "Just them being little shits to each other but they love each other anyways."
With help from Mars (rootingforshaws), because I was at a loss for what to do. Mars, I took some liberties with your prompt, but I'll keep using it in a later chapter ;)
This has to be the cutest thing I've ever written, and I'm scared. Let me know what you think!
I have a bunch of other prompts, courtesy of Mars, so this will be an ongoing fic. If you have any cute prompts for me, msg me, because I am seriously cuteness-impaired.
/
"Root, I swear to God, if you don't take this blindfold off me in the next thirty seconds…"
"Sameen," Root croons in her ear, guiding her girlfriend with a hand on her elbow and the other at the small of her back. "What did we just discuss about being patient?"
Sameen hates not knowing where Root is taking her. She's all for blindfolds being used in different situations, but this? This uncertainty of not knowing if the endgame is something that will bring her pleasure or not is annoying as fuck. Also, her hands are tied in a very complicated sailor's knot that she can't get out of. She's tried.
/
For four hours, Root drove them all over New York City, only blindfolding her at the last hour. Sameen is sure she did it on purpose. She might not have been able to see during those excruciating sixty minutes, but she knows Root drove around in circles just to irk her to Hades and beyond, listening to fucking Journey, too. If she ever hears "Don't Stop Believing" one more time…
After several unsuccessful attempts to get the knot untied, Sameen just stopped trying. She could feel Root's shit eating grin in the tiny space of Root's new car, invading her senses.
Oh, that would not be the end of this. There would be Hell to pay.
When the car finally stopped, all of Sam's annoyance turned to curiosity, despite her best efforts to keep being mad at Root. So she let her girlfriend open her door for her, what with her hands being tied and all.
"Careful with your head, sweetie," Root said, grabbing her arm and closing the door after her.
"Well, I wouldn't have to be careful if you would just…"
"Sameen, do you want your surprise of not?"
It actually took her a full minute to think it through. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry, what's that?" Root grabbed her arm tighter, coming ever so closer to Sam's body, but without leaning on her.
Sam's blood began to boil, in anger or anticipation, she didn't know. She took a deep breath through her nose (though what she really wanted was to punch something) and said, "Yes, I want my freaking surprise. Can we hurry this up? I'm starving."
Root giggled. "Baby, you really need to learn to be patient." Sam felt her stroking her arm, going up to her neck, pushing rebel strands of hair out of the way. Sam's breathing picked up speed. She felt Root rest her lips on the crook of her neck while she pushed her back against the car. "I thought I'd taught you by now that the best things," Root said against her skin, "come out of being patient."
Fucking rope. It burned Sameen's wrists, and not that she didn't enjoy it sometimes, but right now all she wanted was to be free so she could turn the tables on Root. She'd been in control for way too long. Sam needed to give her a little taste of her own medicine. See how long Root could be freaking patient.
Root's mouth carved a hot path over Sam's neck, up her jaw, and Sam knew this would end badly, but it was like her body had a mind of its own around Root. She turned her head towards her, waiting for the inevitable kiss… a kiss that never came.
"Well, it's getting late, we should go inside," said Root, pulling herself off of Sam.
Did she say there would be Hell to pay? What she really meant was that she would personally drag Root's ass (her very nice ass, mind you) through the nine circles of Hell. And then she'd leave her there.
/
"We didn't discuss anything, Root," Sameen says.
They're walking down a series of hallways, Sam can pick up her and Root's footsteps echoing in the enclosed spaces around them.
"You just did what you always do: use your body to get away with it."
"But you love it," Root replies, a smile in her voice.
A series of retorts dance on the tip of Sam's tongue, but, after all they've been through, she can't argue with that logic.
Root finally brings them to a stop and releases Sameen, who's still trying to figure out what the heck is going on. She thinks she hears a lift, so why the Hell did Root make them climb the stairs to the freaking fourth floor of wherever they are? Man, she is so done with this surprise bullshit.
Root pulls out a set of keys from her leather jacket, the clinking of the metal resounding in the hallway.
A door opens. Sam hears Root take a deep breath. She feels her shaking as Root puts a hand on her back again, to lead her forwards.
The door closes. Root's trembling fingers make quick work of untying the knot, and Sameen wishes she could see her do it, so she'll know how to untie it herself next time.
"Keep your eyes closed until I say so." Root's whisper sings in her ear, igniting her flesh. Sam licks her lips, heart thumping against her ribs, as Root removes the blindfold and moves away from her. A dozen different scenes play out in Sam's mind, each and every one of them fueling her desire.
"Okay," Root says in a shaky voice. "Open your eyes, Sameen."
Whatever Sameen expected, this was most certainly not it. Not Root standing in the middle of a strange apartment, hands in the pockets of her jeans, balancing her body back and forth on the balls of her feet and looking at her expectantly. Sam's seen this look on her before and knows to associate it with the feeling Root explained to her: nervousness.
But why is Root nervous?
A tentative smile curves Root's mouth, and she looks around, body hunched over, as if inviting Sam to do so too. The fluorescent lights from the outside seep in through the tall glass windows, painting shadows on the floor along with the moonlight. Sam sees a balcony, long and curving around the corner of the building, spacious. A garden table has been placed outside and… is that a smoker?
Without realising it, Sam moves around the open space, taking it all in. A frown makes its appearance on her forehead, putting a smile on Root's face as she follows her.
A big cherry wood table's been placed right in front of the front door. Cardboard boxes, some closed, some opened, lay over it and on the floor.
There's a brand new sofa to the right, close to a big fireplace. A 40" TV on a dark mahogany low table. A dozen throw pillows on the very comfortable-looking sofa. Sam recognises Root's lava lamp on the small table beside it.
Ants start to crawl around inside Sam's body, but she says nothing and continues with her exploration.
She follows the short hallway that connects with several closed doors, and opens the first one to her right.
Her hand still on the door knob, Sameen takes a deep breath. Feels her body tense up, bites her lips. Placed in the room in front of her is her weight lifting equipment, everything she's gathered through this past few years. Her eyes roam over her dumbbells, her old, worn medicine ball, and also, over some new gear. Top notch, she adds to her inner monologue as she reads the brands and logos marking the stuff.
But that's not all that's in the room, for at the left side corner of it is a big wooden desk, equipped with three screens, a keyboard and an assortment of gadgets which are most assuredly not meant for her.
Root's made sure her stuff barely occupies any space. Her swivel chair looks small and uncomfortable and Sameen's already making a mental note to ask Finch where she can buy Root a better one as she touches the ugly and rough fabric lining it.
And then she realises that her brain's already accepted the situation without her even giving it a second thought. Why should she, though? They were already living in the same space in Finch's safe house, their clothes mixing in the drawers of the boudoir they shared.
Before moving on to the next room, she spares a glance at Root, standing just outside the door. Arms crossed, Root looks at her with wide eyes, scared eyes. Sameen has become an expert in reading them, she's quite proud of herself for it.
So, instead of reassuring her girlfriend, she decides there's no day like today. She had sworn that she'd make Root pay, hadn't she? Where's the harm in letting her sweat it out a little more?
The next door she opens leads to a very nice, newly renovated bathroom, complete with a clawfoot bathtub. Her mind's already coming up with ideas to make Root forget who she is in there. But she has to keep her grin in check, and it's with great effort that she heaves a sigh and closes the door again.
Hearing that sound, Root's smile disappears, panic rising in her throat.
Sameen walks over to the next room, the one in front of the bathroom, but before she can open it, Root presses her back against the painted white wood. Her chest's right in Sam's line of sight, and if Sam didn't know any better, she'd say that Root has just come back from a run.
Because Root sucks at running cross country and this is exactly how she looks after one. Hey, at least she tries.
Doing her damnedest not to outright laugh at Root, Sam puts on her game face and growls at Root's chest, not looking up at her in case those eyes manage to break her concentration.
"Move," she says.
"There's nothing in here." Root's voice is laced with fear, and Sam is nearly tempted to give it up, until she remembers that the woman drove them aimlessly around for four fucking hours.
And, now that she thinks about it, Root wasn't the only one that was acting shady all morning. Last night, Finch had, very suddenly, decided that the safe house the girls were staying in was in need of some "urgent" repairs and asked them to vacate the premises immediately, with the promise of having booked them a suite at a prestigious hotel, of course. John had called her this morning to "ask how they were doing", and later proceeded to tell her to go get Bear because he wasn't gonna be able to take him out today. So Sam had made the trip all the way to John's, only to find that Bear was with Finch.
Hell, even Fusco had checked in with her, all but asking her her exact coordinates.
And now that she knows why, the list of people she would drag to Hell grew even more.
Sameen pinches the bridge of her nose, looks up at Root. "Root, if you don't move away from the door, I will."
"Sam…" Root whines.
That's it. She's had it with her. Grabbing her by her biceps, Sam effortlessly picks Root up, lifting her off the floor and pushing her aside. After a few years of teaching her endurance, Root has developed some muscles of her own, but they're nothing compared to Sam's and her years of disciplined training.
She opens the door and finds… nothing.
The room's in shadows and it takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. Behind her, Root keeps making little whining noises, taking sharp breaths in. She knows better than to try and push Sameen out, so she stays put.
Sam's still racking her brains trying to find the reason for Root to be this upset. The room's painted white, with a large window overlooking the balcony, but it's empty. Maybe if she turned on the lights?
Turning around, Root's silhouette leaning on the doorway is the first thing she sees, a dark mass in contrast to the light from the hallway. The second, though, is a chair, tucked away against a corner of the room.
A rocking chair.
Suddenly, the game is over, her brain demands it. Because she knows why there's that particular type of chair in this empty room and why Root didn't want her to step into it after seeing her practically scowl at everything else in the apartment.
Just, the idea of it, of them doing this together… never in a million years did she think she'd have this. She knows exactly what she's feeling right now, she doesn't need to tell Root what she's thinking so the she can help her decode her emotions. Because fear is something that her heart knows very well, but it's not a crippling kind of fear, no. It comes hand in hand with excitement.
Sam didn't realise she had been staring at the chair. She turns her head, locking her eyes with Root, who looks very much at the brink of a breakdown. Her feet carry her forward, towards her, and she stops a breath away from her.
Root's hunched body puts both their faces at the same level, her head still leaning on the doorframe as if it could hold her together. Lines of worry crinkle her eyes. Sam hates that. Those lines should write smiles in Root's face, not this. Slowly, she brings her right hand up, trails her fingers over them, her hand burying itself in her hair as her thumb rubs smooth circles on Root's soft skin.
It's all Root can do to close her eyes and place her own hand over Sam's. But she's still not at ease.
Sameen closes the distance between them, pressing her forehead to Root's. Lets her breath tingle Root's face like she knows she likes. The sound that steals from Root's throat is completely worth it.
"You bought us a place?" asks Sam in the smallest of whispers.
"Technically," Root begins, and Sam can already feel the shift in her demeanour. Her hears the smile creeping up her voice and feels her own lips twitching upwards. "She bought it. I just gave her a ton of specifications."
Sameen peels herself off of Root. Looks into those eyes that always manage to say the right things to her. Her thumb hasn't stopped moving. Root's fingers are still dancing on her skin, her eyes roaming over her face. And Sam's smile is reaching unprecedented dimensions.
"You bought us a place," Sameen says, before pulling Root down and showing her with a kiss just how much this means to her.
The feeling of Root's smile against her lips is one of her favourite things in the entire universe. She swears she will never grow tired of it.
It is an absolute impossibility.
/
The title for this work comes from Francesca Michielin's "No Degree of Separation" (thanks Mars!), and I think it fits the girls (especially Sam) very nicely.