Mid-splash when Loki arrived, Scott had neither seen the door nor heard him enter. It was only when he'd reached for a few paper towels that he noticed the blurry outline of a newcomer, and they shared a small moment of awkward silence - Loki quiet in surprise, Scott because he'd been wiping his face dry. There'd been an apology loaded up on his tongue, but Scott nearly bit it off when it was Loki's voice that greeted him.
He made an effort not to visibly bristle at the question. It shouldn't have rubbed him the wrong way - any other Gamemaker could have said the same and he wouldn't have found it offensive - but something told Scott that it was the fact that it was Loki saying it that had everything on edge. He found the Gamemaker's very presence offensive. Choosing the sink right next to his, asking him condescendingly if he knew he was violating tonight's boundaries when Loki had probably just spent a few hours teaching a child how to best use a torture chamber.
Fuck off was what he wanted to say, and maybe shove his face into the mirror for good measure. But that seemed like a terrible thing to do to a person who might have some sway in how well his daughter was treated, so he settled for a deadpan, "The other men's room was crowded." He straightened, tossed the paper towels into a nearby trashcan. "It was an emergency."