"Is that my shirt?" Scott gave the archer a questioning look.
"Huh? No, I don't think so." Clint shrugged. He then straightened out said shirt. No, no that was definitely Scott's shirt. That dark grey button up was DEFINITELY his.
"You sure? Because I think that's..." Scott trailed off.
"Mm, nope. If it was yours it really wouldn't have been in my clothes." Clint crossed his arms.
"Well, maybe there was a mix up? Cause I know that's mine." Scott stepped forward.
"Are you just saying that so I take MY shirt off?" Clint smirked.
"God no. I'm saying that cause it's weird to see you stealing my clothes."
"Well, I didn't steal it. Like I said, it was in my clothes." Clint shrugged again and walked past the other man.
"Hey, hey whoa," Scott grabbed the archers arm, "I am getting my shirt back right?" Clint sighed and turned back around.
"Yeah sure. I'll give it to you later."
"I'll forget later," Scott said honestly, "and you'll be able to just keep it. I don't want that. I like that shirt." Scott motioned to said item.
"Yeah, well," Clint crossed his arms in thought, "maybe I like it too."
"You serious? So you're just gunna steal from a professional theif?" Scott put his hands on his hips, annoyed.
"It's not stealing. I said I'd give it back. So it's borrowing."
"Nnno. That's still stealing. Believe me, I know. It's how I got this job." Scott smiled proudly.
"You shouldn't be proud of that." Clint chuckled.
"Hey, if I hadn't done it I wouldn't be here with you guys. But I also wouldn't have Robin Hood wannabes stealing my shirts." Scott tugged a bit on Clint's sleeve to emphasize.
"Wow, just like dealing with my kids." Clint mumbled and began to unbutton the shirt.
"Are you saying you steal your kids clothes?" Scott smirked.
"I'm saying you're immature, and you are making me strip in the kitchen." Clint said more amused than annoyed.
"Well, I didn't *force* you to. You could've done it back in your room. Honestly, I think you wanted to just try and impress me." Scott winked before turning to grab his coffee.
"Nah. I'm way out of your league." Clint smiled and finally pulled the shirt off. Of course he had a t shirt on underneath. Otherwise Scott doubted he would've taken it off.
"I know ya are. I mean ya can't even hold a flame ta me." The thief snatched his shirt back.
"Whatever." Clint turned to leave.
"So, you guys dating or...?" Sam said from the doorway.
"Ha ha. Your hilarious." Clint rolled his eyes.
"No. We're not. Just joking around." Scott said stiffly before clearing his throat.
"No, it's cute. Real cute." Sam smiled and made his way to the coffee maker.
"Are you still mad cause I kicked your butt?" Scott took a sip out of his mug.
"Watch it." Sam warned.
Scott chuckled. Clint gave a questioning look to both of them. He still had trouble believing the Falcon got beat by this newbie.
"Hey it's fine. We all get knocked down sometimes." Scott shrugged.
"Yeah, well, as far as everyone else knows it didn't happen, you understand?" Sam gave a quick glare to the thief.
"Right, right. You guys still got that pride thing I've heard about." Scott idly folded the shirt in his hands.
"What, you loose that self pride a long time ago or something?" Clint interjected.
"Lemme tell ya," Scott easily elbowed Clint in the side, "prison can really change ya." He gave the archer a quick wink before making his way out of the kitchen. Clint's laugh didn't escape him.
