Thanks so much for all the helpful ideas and the kind reviews! This is a longer one since the last one was really short. Sorry that Loki's prank for Natasha is kinda uneventful, I promise the reaction will be a thousand times better!

Oh and to answer your question 'AlltoGirly', it will NOT be a Steve/Natasha story, I promise. In my author's note (chapter 10), I said that it will be Clintasha, eventually.


Thump. Thump. Thump. CREAK! The bed groaned as a heavy person dropped onto the mattress. Tony knew immediately it was the Steve. Why is he back so early? Tony whined to himself. Isn't he supposed to be in Pennsylvania for a whole 'nother day? He was careful not to make a sound, since Steve had greatly enhanced hearing. He stifled a grunt as he tried to get into a more comfortable position.

Luckily, Steve was extremely tired; even super soldiers tire at some point. Soon, light snores filled the room. Tony waited about five minutes, until he thought Steve was under a deep enough sleep. The team quickly realized that Steve could fall asleep in under ten minutes, if he was tired enough.

Tony lay flat on his stomach, trying to figure the best way to get out from under the bed. If he was lucky enough, he could roll smoothly out from under the bed, toward the door of the bedroom. Pushing his hands flat against the soft carpet, Tony jerked his body to the right, and ended up flat on his back. Sighing with relief, he waited a few more seconds before completing another roll. Only it didn't work.


The genius had rolled diagonally, landing on his stomach, but bashing his head loudly against the bedpost. "Holy fuck!" He half screamed half whispered to himself, while clutching his bruised skull. It must have been a miracle day for him, because Steve just shifted positions slightly.

Letting out a frustrated moan, Tony straightened his body so it would pass under the edge of the bed. Grunting quietly, he rolled again so he was back on his back again. He repeated this twice more, since the bed was king sized. He was preparing to roll once more when suddenly, Steve rolled over, his arm falling over the side of the bed. It wouldn't take a genius to see that if Tony tried to roll out from under the bed, he would nudge the super solder's hand, and that would surely wake him.

Resisting the urge to scream, Tony slumped on the ground. Should he try to roll out from under the other edge, or wait for Steve to move. Looking to his right, he could see a space free of Steve's dangling arm. But it's so far away he sighed. Squirming, he got into a comfortable position. And prayed that he would make it out of enemy territory alive.


While Tony was having a rather, eventful morning, Loki was not. He had sent for a bucket of warm water, which one of Tony's robots gave him. Carefully reading the tiny instructions, he poured three capfuls of the dye into the water, and absentmindedly stirred it around with his hand. He grabbed the black suit, almost worried that an alarm would go off. Then, he dumped the suit into the bucket of water, prodding it so it wouldn't stay afloat. Drying his wet hand on a towel, he sat down in a random nearby chair.

The past few weeks were hard on Loki. It was difficult to become friends with the Avengers, no matter how much fun they had pranking each other. The archer still hated him, although they were on the same team. The god of mischief could see it in Clint's blue ice, which would always narrow when he saw him. And the SHIELD agent still was wary around him, as was the whole team. Especially his brother. But Loki could understand. He basically destroyed their city, killing thousands and ruining just as many buildings. Tiredly dropping his head in his hands, he glanced at the high-tech watch that Tony gave him. Wow, ten minutes go by quickly he thought.

He pulled out the sopping wet suit and let most of the water drip back into the bucket. He hung it back up in it's closet, and shut the door.

This was extremely dull he thought gloomily. Imagining the red-head assassin finding out her suit was neon pink, he perked up. Revenge is simply glorious, no matter how boring he smiled.


Clint whistled happily as he surveyed the office. It was extremely tidy and boring, in Clint's opinion. The walls were plain white, and the only things in the office were a desk and chair, a meeting table with a few chairs around it, a huge white board, a potted plant (A/N What office doesn't have a fucking potted plant? :D), and a huge flat screen tv, probably used for video conferences and whatnot.

He put down his bag of supplies, and started taking them out and spreading them around the floor.

"Okay, first, the booby traps that won't explode as I walk around the room," Clint muttered to himself. He walked over to the whiteboard, which was the kind that you can write on both sides. Flipping it around to the other side, he pulled out a Sharpie. Not a whiteboard marker. Grinning, he began to draw. It was nothing compared to Steve's drawings, but it was good enough. Clint stepped back to admire his work.

It showed Phil staring jealously at Maria Hill, who was talking to another agent. The drawing of Phil had cartoon type smoke coming out of his ears. And, of course, the agent Maria was talking to was the perfect, buff and handsome model type guy. Clint laughed. Everyone knew there was something going on between Phil and Maria. He stared at his amazing artwork for another moment, before flipping the whiteboard so the side with the drawing was out of site.

Next, Clint put a whoopee cushion under each cushion of the meeting chairs. Classic. But Clint couldn't wait to see the faces of the people who sat in the chairs. Hopefully it would be Fury, but that would probably mean Clint would die. Slowly and painfully.

The next few pranks were not really booby traps, just pranks. He taped a poster of a model in a bathing suit on the walls. Every single one of the drawers of the desk were filled with tiny marbles. The swivel chair that went with the desk was wrapped in many, many layers of saran wrap. Clint even hacked into the desktop computer and changed the desktop to a funny drawing of Phil following Steve around like a lost puppy. He didn't even know why someone would draw that, but he found it online, and it was perfect for this scenario.

But the prank that outpranked all the other pranks was the oh so classic 'bucket of water over the door' prank. Except it wasn't water. It was three week old stale milk.

As Clint left the room through the vent, he prayed that his handler wouldn't kill him.