It was 12:30 p.m. The first of the SHIELD agents were just about to enter the lunch hall when they heard a loud shriek. They fingered their guns and pushed open the doors. Two trays of food had been left on the middle table, unforgotten. Towards the left of the tray there were two forms. They were recognisable as Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.
"Clint! Stahahap!" Natasha gasped. She writhed, laughing her head off, trying to get Clint to screw off. "CLINT!"
The agents stared in shock as they realised that the deadliest assassin was extremely ticklish. Clint dug his fingers into her sides and was rewarded by a bout of laughter and a Russian curse. Slowly they trickled in, the more senior agents going in first.
"Tony Stark, I'm gonna murder you," she growled, glaring at him.
He stuck out his tongue and continued videoing. "It's my blackmail."
"It's not blackmail if everyone knows," Natasha said, the duh clear in her voice.
"Good point. But that doesn't mean it's nor funny," Tony replied.
Natasha went to reply but was stopped as Clint restarted tickling her. She squirmed and yelled and tried to get free but it was no use when she could barely contain her laughs. Natasha was only allowed to escape when Fury came in to see what was making such a noise.
He stared at her for a few seconds before saying, "You're ticklish?"
"Yehehehes! Now hehahahalp!" She yelled.
"Barton, let her up," Fury ordered.
Clint looked at him pitifully before standing and sitting down on a bench. Natasha glared at him, red in the face from laughing so much and climbed into the air vents. No one saw her for the next two weeks, until she rigged a prank that landed her in Fury's office.
Clint ended up covered in hawk feathers and hanging upside down from the rafters, dripping mustard everywhere. His face had a bruise mark where a red boxing glove had flown towards him at great speed and punched him.