SLAP
S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Clint Barton (codename Hawkeye) is awakened in a bloody mess strapped to a chair in a darkly lit room. He passed out and a tall, slim man just slapped the Hell out of him. We can't see the tall man's face because the room is so dark. Barton is slowly coming to, but the man slaps him again just for good measure. He's definitely awake now.
"Ow...I...I'm up. I'm up."
Barton opens his eyes to see his partner, Natasha Romanov (codenamed Black Widow) across from him, just as bloody as he is. Only she has a gun pointed at her temple by another man; this man much shorter than the tall man and more muscular as well.
"Hey Natasha."
"Hi Barton."
He chuckles in pain.
"Looks like we've gotten ourselves in another fine mess haven't we?"
"We've gotten out of bigger ones."
"Obviously. We saved the world afterall."
"We got out of Budapest didn't we? That's worse than the end of the world. I think we can handle these two jackasses."
They both laugh through the pain. The two dark figures look at each other in confusion. The tall figure smacks Barton upside the head.
"HEY! What do you two think this is? Some...some...game? A meet and greet?"
Clint: "It might as well be. This is amateurish."
Natasha: "Like something out of a bad James Bond movie."
The tall figure is getting angrier and angrier.
"Oh really? Look at the locks on your wrists!"
Clint: "I can't. They're behind my back."
Natasha giggles a bit. The tall figure is boiling at this point.
"Well if you could see, you'd see that those locks around both of your wrists are made of pure titanium. You can't just break out of them. You need a special key and that key is in my coat pocket. Look down and you'll see those same locks are wrapped around your ankles so you won't be making any sneaky escapes tonight! Now, how amateurish does THAT sound?!"
Natasha and Clint smile at each other, trying to hold back their laughter.
"Yeah, it is actually. Just like a bad James Bond movie."
"It's like you're competing with Dr. Evil for villain of the year. Next you're gonna bring out the sharks with lasers on their heads."
Clint and Natasha laugh hard through the pain. The tall man is just boiling, but he tries his best to hold his composure. He slicks his hair back. He looks at the short man, still holding a gun to Natasha.
"John, would you? Please?"
"With pleasure."
John pistol whips Natasha, quickly ending the laughter from both captives. Clint goes frantic. He just snaps.
"HEY! DON'T YOU HURT HER!"
The tall man laughs.
"Or what? You'll wobble in that chair a little more?"
Both him and John laugh. Natasha tries to calm Clint down after coughing up some blood.
"Clint...Clint...it's okay. I'll be okay."
Tall man: "Not for long. Not unless I get what I want."
John points the gun firmly at Natasha's head.
"Now...I'm a nice guy, unless you piss me off of course. Unfortunately, you've both pissed me off pretty badly. But, I'm nice enough to give you both a chance. Listen closely, Clint, because this really applies to you."
Clint looks square in the tall man's eyes, cold and ready to explode.
"I'm going to give you 10 seconds...no more...no less...just 10 seconds. 10 seconds to save your life. 10 seconds to save hers. 10 seconds to tell me what I really want and you know exactly what I'm talking about. 10 seconds...starting now. One."
"Look, we don't know what you're-"
"TWO."
"..."
"Three."
"Okay, fine we know what you're talking about but-"
"Four."
"BUT we don't know where it is."
"Don't bullshit me. FIVE!"
John takes the safety off his gun, still pointed at Natasha.
"You've gotta believe me!"
"Six."
"We had it and then it disappeared. It was gone."
"Seven."
Clint is begging at this point.
"We can get you something better! We can get it back if you give us some time!"
"Eight."
Clint then looks at John.
"Get that gun out of her face."
"Nine."
"I swear to GOD! If you don't-"
"It's okay Clint. It's okay. If this is it...*gulp*...I just want you to know-"
"Ten."
"NOOOOOO!"
...
...
BANG