A/N: This was just a fluff piece I wrote quickly in order to assure myself that I didn't have to do all angst all the time. So here's a (hopefully) humorous drabble to lighten our day!
"I can't believe you sent Steve to bail me out," Clint said, slamming the apartment door behind him and throwing his satchel on the dining room table.
"I didn't want to lose my temper," came the reply from the kitchen where Phil was fixing a pot of coffee.
'You're angry?" Clint loosened his tie and shrugged his suit jacket off and threw it over the back of a chair, ignoring Phil's glare. He was tired and had been sitting in jail for the last three hours.
"You got yourself arrested when you were supposed to be listening to a science lecture and keeping an eye out for Sampson."
"Okay, first. I didn't get myself arrested. I got Lee Fremen arrested, which is fine because he's never been in trouble before. Second, Sampson wasn't there. As it turned out only morons were there," Clint replied, pouring Phil a travel mug of coffee and hugging the pot to his chest, again ignoring Phil's glare.
"Morons?" Phil asked, grabbing his coffee with a sigh and leaning back against the counter.
"Yeah, well, one moron." Clint answered, heaving himself up on the counter and leaning back against a cupboard.
"Other than you?" Phil asked with a grin.
Clint smacked him gently on the back of the head. "That's just mean."
"Right, sorry," Phil answered, batting Clint's hand away. "Disorderly conduct and destruction of property. After a lecture about stem cell research. Destruction of property, Clint?"
Clint sighed dramatically and waved a hand. "I threw the moron's books out a window. A few of them didn't survive. Look, no one got hurt; no cover got blown because the mark never showed. No harm, no foul. Right?"
After a pause, Phil nodded. "Fine. You just don't usually lose your temper like that."
"Yeah, well, anyone who claims to be a scientist and objects on political grounds to safe research that could save millions of lives pisses me off. And he was noisy about it. I told him to shut up and complain to other morons like him—What?" he asked as Phil's grin grew wider and it was clear he was stifling laughter.
"I, um. I guess I didn't actually expect you to listen to the lecture," he replied.
"As opposed to what? Running hockey stats in my head for two hours? Besides, I like science. It gave us the DVR."
"Which gives me Supernanny," Phil said with a look of triumph on his face.
Clint groaned. "I could do without that one, but it gives me endless hockey when I get off a mission and you're too busy to be interesting."
Phil glowered. "I'm always interesting."
"Not when you're evaluating expense reports. Then you're just cute."
"Cute?"
Clint grinned and draped an arm over Phil's shoulder. "Your mouth does this. . . thing when you look at expense reports."
Phil shrugged. "They are kind of like eating a lemon."
"Exactly! Which makes your mouth turn up in an adorable way."
Phil turned to face Clint with a smile. "You know when you're not adorable?"
Clint sighed. "When?"
"When you're behind bars. Which is why I sent Steve."
Clint hopped down off the counter and leaned against Phil. "And because you were angry. Don't forget that bit."
"I'm less angry now," Phil said, leaning in to kiss Clint.
"That's because I'm adorable," Clint said into Phil's mouth and Phil's chuckle ghosted into Clint's chest and left him warm, which was much better than leaving him in jail.