Chapter Text
Just as Root and Shaw duck for cover, half the wooden crates in the building burst into flames.
“Dammit! They boobytrapped the place,” Shaw growls.
“When I said we should introduce more forms of temperature play, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“Now really isn’t the time for a smartass comment, Root.”
They run for the car, they already have their evidence, so no big deal.
“I think I got singed. You’ll have to lick my wounds when we get home.”
“I’d say shut up, but--"
“That never works.”
Root clicks her seatbelt into place and they speed away, the warehouse puffing up into flames behind them.
“If you make it all the way back to the station without hitting on me, I’ll lick your wounds and… whatever else you want.”
Root smirks and sinks back in her seat, “deal.”