SHIELD was holding a celebration for Agent Ward in a conference room. Food ranging from pasta and salad and cookies covered a table end to end with the words "Congratulations" printed on a banner stretched across the front.

"Hey," Clint caught Steve's attention in the hallway outside the party room. There was still thirty minutes before anyone would be inside and the guest of honor was to be surprised. Steve glanced towards the sound.

"What is it, Barton?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"C'mere." Clint jerked his head towards the door. Steve sighed and turned to walk up to the sandy haired agent, stopping a foot away from him. "Let's go in here. Y'know, check the food out. Make sure it's safe for consumption and whatnot."

"Barton, you're an agent, you can feed yourself." Captain looked at a clock on the wall. "Besides, don't you go on lunch in forty five minutes?"

"Yeah, so? Free food is free food." Clint's eyes were pleading, wide to garner some sympathy. Steve frowned and thought about it some more before throwing his arms up and grumbling "Fine!" Clint snickered and led the way in, scanning the food. He ate a plastic forkful of pasta, countering Steve's uncomfortable look with a 'so what?' expression. Steve bit his lip and looked at a plate full of chocolate chips. After all, a nonstop, high speed metabolism didn't exactly entail satisfaction.

"Dude, just take one. Do you really think anyone will notice one missing cookie on a plate of two hundred others?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Steve finally picked up a cookie and bit into it. He found it was a perfect cookie, the kind where the edges were slightly hard and the middle was soft and chewy. He smiled, appreciating the fact that these were real, homemade cookies and not preserved, storebought cookies.

At the first sound of footsteps in the hall, Clint grabbed Steve by the arm. "Let's go, man."

As soon as they left the room, Captain's skin started to crawl and he felt a slight tinge of nausea. Weight started to build in his chestthe farther they walked away.

"What's eating you?" Clint looked up at Steve, some concern but mostly curiosity in his eyes.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"That cookie." Steve admitted after a moment. Clint stared at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter, unbridled, nose wrinkling laughter. Steve's eyebrows furrowed.

"You're serious? You're worried because you ate one cookie?"

". . . yes."

"Jesus, how can you be such an honest person? Is your guilty conscience the size of the moon or what?"

"I took something that wasn't mine, okay?"

"Yeah, but it was insignificant, it's not like you kidnapped a newborn." Clint punched him in the arm. "Come on."

Just then, the intercom came to life.

"Attention, agents and Avengers alike-"

"Nice alliteration," Clint grinned.

"Shh." Captain scolded.

"- a possible break in. There has been a few items stolen, and if anyone has seen anything, please inform Director Fury. Thank you."
Steve's face flushed and his eyes grew dark.

"Hey, don't have a heart attack or anything on me. Jeez, do you really think they're concerned about a little food? Who knows what's going on, but we have a thief to catch."

"But what if it's me?"

"It was one frigging cookie, Cap. Do you honestly think - whatever, I'll keep an eye out for our thief, you go back to your office and keep your head down." Clint felt odd giving Steve instructions, but he shook it off and purposefully walked off in another direction.

Clint called to a random agent in the hallway. "You seen anything?"

"Nope. You?" He called back as he got closer to Clint.

"Uh-uh. Let me know if you do."

"Sure thing," he replied, reaching into a holster on his thigh. Clint narrowed his eyes and let his fingers hang, poised next to his own belt where a knife was strapped in. The other agent swiftly withdrew a gun Clint had never seen before. Clint charged him and took him down with ease, cognitively recalibrating him before paging Fury. "What exactly was stolen?"

"A new weapon. Selvig was working on it with Stark. They came in today and it was gone, neither of them had any idea who it could have been. Why?"

"Think I found your guy."

"Get him in here, then."

"Yes, sir."

"Director?" Steve stood outside the doorway of Fury's office.

"What can I do for you, Rogers?"

"I've come to confess."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Fury frowned.

"It was me. I stole the cookie."

"What? What cookie?"

"The stolen object? I took the cookie from the conference room, I ate it. It was me."

"Rogers, are you stupid or something?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't give a damn about a cookie. I'm looking for a stolen weapon."

"Oh," Steve pressed his lips in a flat line and turned to go, bumping into Clint who was weighed down with a limp body. "Let me help you," Steve guided Clint into Fury's office.

"That's no agent," Coulson followed close behind. "He was an apprentice. He's been here about a month... I thought there was something off about him."

In a matter of thirty minutes the situation was sorted out and a new announcement informed everyone there were no more threats. Clint laughed his ass off when Fury retold Captain's story and Phil comforted Steve he did nothing wrong, but Clint would be getting his ass chewed later for his actions.