"You are NOT wearing that in public!" Sam sputtered, eyeing his sister's new uniform. His protest rang through the empty mansion hallway.
Paige delivered an affronted look that would have shut down anyone who hadn't been on its receiving end for 19 years. "It's my uniform, Sam. I wear it in my duties as an X-Man. And since our enemies usually aren't kind enough to come to us, I will certainly be wearing it. In. Public."
"That skirt is indecent! How can you fight in that, huh? It's impractical." Sure he'd scored a point, Sam let a note of smugness creep into his tone.
Bad move. Paige tossed her hair back, annoyed. "I am NOT about to take fashion advice from you, Sam Guthrie! I have seen plenty of horrible costumes on you through the years!"
"They may have been ugly, but at least they left something to the imagination!"
"Imagination? With the full body spandex you wore? Oh, it left plenty to the imagination," she hissed, "but not the way you think! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to listen to my friends after they'd seen you in some of those getups? You think it's only boys who are pervy?"
"Which friends? No, wait-" Stunned, Sam's brain needed a moment to catch up to his tongue. "That- that is exactly my point! I don't want my teammates looking at sister in a- a- an ungentlemanly manner!"
"I am NOT a child, Sam, and you are NOT the boss of me! I will wear whatever I want, and I'm not going to stand here being berated by a fashion victim any longer!" Turning on her heel, Paige strode down the stairs.
"Pouches, Sam. Do not make me start on the pouches!" Paige called up the stairs before she disappeared from sight.
"Don't know what she's talking about," dejected, Sam walked back to his room. "My costumes weren't all that bad... and the pouches were useful." He continued to mutter. "And- Cable had more than ME, anyway!"