[ This is a dick move, and it is a sore spot, that for a brief moment, Scott stops what he's doing to glare at Logan. Not that the other could see it through his ruby quartz glasses, but Scott hopes the other can feel it. This lasts for a few seconds before he goes back to point A to carry another box to point B, almost slamming it down in his annoyance. ]

What's it to me? [ He retorts, running a hand through his slightly damp hair, before resting both on his hips. ] Thought you already know how teams work, Logan. Or do I have to spell it out for you again? Give you a text book definition?

[ The warehouse, naturally, doesn't have proper ventilation, and with continuous manual labor and the sweltering heat even during nighttime, Scott has built up a sweat. He glares a bit more at Logan, shaking his head, before lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe off sweat that has gathered on his forehead and brows.

Not letting that hem drop all the way because goddamn it's really hot Scott takes a breath and heaves it out in a sigh. His glare dissipates, reminding himself Logan is Logan and they have to stick together here, so he pivots to business. ]

You were gone longer this time. Found anything interesting? [ Other than the usual stuff, not that Scott's not grateful for them. ]