Just an amusing one-shot dedicated to my sister and my friend Epps.


It was another one of those mornings.

Tony had been up practically all night trying to perfect his latest invention. (Everyone needed a coffee machine that brewed liquid before anyone was up, in his opinion.) Now, here he was after two hours of sleep, exhausted to the point of wearing mismatched slippers and Pepper's robe. Someone had commented on it (Romanoff, maybe?), asking if he'd had a rough night (rather snootily). Of course, being as tired as he was, he'd merely grunted in return.

The only thing on his mind at the moment was the fact that he needed something to wake him up. Preferably some of Banner's leftover oatmeal in the refrigerator. (Tony had never been a fan of oatmeal, but gosh, could that man cook!)

He shuffled into the kitchen, his slippers scraping across the tile. Rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, he reached out to yank open the fridge door. He grabbed the bowl of oatmeal and was starting to let the door fall shut when he happened to glance up.

Let's just say Tony did not appreciate pranks after only being awake for five minutes.


It was another one of those mornings.

Natasha never got much sleep. It came from being a spy. The occupation title could literally be "stays up all night to pry into other people's business." Sure, she didn't spy on the other Avengers (not really, anyway), but her internal clock was officially messed up.

So, of course she was a little snappish when Stark lumbered past her in the hallway as she stepped out of the bathroom, bumping into her and nearly knocking her over. She couldn't help a sarcastic, "Rough night, Stark?"

Getting only a grunt out of him didn't please her, but she didn't feel like continuing. Although, she was extremely tempted to go on with a, "You look like every other stereotypical genius on this planet. Did you sleep in your workshop again?"

No, Natasha decided to let the subject drop and went back to her bedroom in an attempt to get a few more winks of sleep.

But that was pretty hard when you could hear Stark screaming like he'd had the worst nightmare of his life.


It was another one of those mornings.

Steve liked getting up early to run a few miles, or to clock a few hours in the training room. Most people figured it came from being in the army where sleeping in was like a national crime. Personally, though, he just enjoyed waking up while everyone else was in bed and the Tower was quiet. Those precious hours before the bickering among the Avengers started were bliss.

Besides, it also gave him time to exercise, take a shower, and get to the kitchen before anyone could comment on him reading the newspaper with his breakfast. (As far as he was concerned, paper and ink were more reliable than the Internet.)

This particular morning, however, he'd decided to stick around in order to watch how Stark reacted to the prank lying in wait on top of the refrigerator. Not once was he tempted to inform the billionaire of his impending predicament.

Except he hadn't expected the man to start screaming like he'd seen the ghost of Christmas future.


It was another one of those mornings.

Thor slept like a rock. There were many times in the past when he had pondered over why this was the case. Perhaps it came from his immortal form being stronger, and therefore he felt safer about being attacked while he dreamed. Or maybe it was because he drank no caffeine, even at the urgings of some of the other Avengers. (They simply could not take no for an answer, but Thor was suspicious of what this 'caffeine' did to the likes of Barton and Stark.)

He supposed it most likely came from how much energy his godly form required to remain here on Midgard. It sapped his strength more than the others knew. He did enjoy sleeping, however, and his comrades knew this, which is why they left him in peace.

Until this day.

Even Thor found himself jolting awake at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. Summoning his hammer, he could not help but worry about the Black Widow and Lady Pepper. Were they all right?


It was another one of those mornings.

Bruce never slept well. There was always that nagging fear in the back of his brain that wondered if the Hulk would finally break through without his permission. After over a year without an incident, he'd been confident. But then he'd lost control on the Helicarrier, nearly killing Agent Romanoff. It didn't sit well with him.

So, Bruce found himself curled up in a tight ball on his bed, breathing heavily, his gaze focused on the wall. (Why was it green? Whose smart idea was that?)

Sleep was fundamental. Being a scientist (or just being a person), Bruce knew that. But he couldn't seem to fall into dreamland this night, or the nights before this one.

He eventually dozed off for a while only to be awakened, rather violently, at the sound of someone screaming. Terrified, he felt a flare of the Hulk rebel, wanting to know if he needed to smash anything.

Pushing the feeling away as best he could, Bruce leapt to his feet and scurried out of the room toward the source of the sound.


It was another one of those mornings.

Clint lived for mischief. The others might not have been able to tell with the brief time they'd know him (considering he'd been Loki's pawn for a while. Ugh.), but they were definitely discovering it now.

He'd only been living in Avengers Tower for a few weeks, but his teammates were already finding out that he loved to play pranks in his spare time. He relished the looks of surprise on their faces each time he pulled one. Sure, those looks soon turned to anger, but the surprise totally made it all worth it.

Like this morning, for instance. Clint had gotten up an hour earlier than usual to perch on top of the refrigerator. (Hawkeye wasn't just a jab at his eyesight, after all.) His plan was to scare the living daylights out of Stark once the man got up. Why Stark? Because Bruce was the Hulk, Steve was their leader and was already awake even when Clint got up, Thor was a god and would likely zap him with lightning, and Natasha was...well...Natasha. Tony was the obvious choice.

Cap had watched him mount the fridge, not even having to ask what he was doing. It just went to show how they were getting used to his mischief.

Clint lied in wait, trying not to snort at the sight of Stark stumbling into the kitchen with mismatched slippers and a pink robe. The man didn't even look up as he reached into the refrigerator to extract the leftover oatmeal from the previous day.

When Tony finally glanced up, Clint flashed a Cheshire cat grin and queried, "Hey, Stark. Whatcha doin'?"

Stark immediately screamed (though, he later insisted it had been a manly yell), leaping back while sending oatmeal flying everywhere. Clint avoided the brunt of it, being up so high.

"Holy snap! What the heck, Barton?!"

Clint threw his head back, laughing so hard that he had to hold on to the fridge to keep from falling off. "You should see your face right now!"

Tony glared daggers at him, and if looks could kill, Clint knew he would be dead right now (not that he cared). Before the angry man could say anything, however, Steve started chuckling as well. When Stark whipped around in his direction, he merely hid his face behind the newspaper, whistling to himself.

"What has happened here? Are the ladies Natasha and Pepper all right?" Thor demanded, taking large strides into the kitchen while wielding his hammer.

Clint laughed all the harder at that, now clutching his sides. "It hurts! I swear, it's painful!"

Tony shot another glare in his direction. "Barton, so help me, I will grab your own bow and shove it up your-"

He didn't get to finish his threat as Bruce ran in, his bare feet pattering on the tile. "What is it? What's wrong? What's the emergency? Is the Helicarrier falling from the sky again? It wasn't my fault this time, was it?"

At the sight of an outraged, oatmeal covered Tony, a chortling Clint, a trying-to-be-indifferent Steve, and a confused Thor, Bruce stopped, instantly understanding. "Prank?"

Clint could only nod, unable to gasp out an agreeing, "Prank!"

The only person missing was Natasha, and even she walked in at that moment. Her eyes took in the scene, flicking from one male to the next. Remaining calm, she stepped over the spilled oatmeal to grab a water from the fridge.

They all figured she would leave without a word, but as she was about to exit the room, she shot a coolly disgusted (if that was possible), "Men," over her shoulder.

Soon enough, everyone was laughing at Stark (who didn't look pleased in the slightest). Except Thor, who still looked bewildered and eventually said, "I do not understand. If Stark is the one covered in the meal of oats, why did one of the ladies scream?"

Finally, after being unable to keep himself stable any longer, Clint pitched off the refrigerator, catching himself right before he hit the ground, laughing all the while.

Yes, it was just another one of those mornings at Avengers Tower.


I'd love to know what you guys think and if you'd read a series of one-shots revolving around pranks.

Favorites, follows, and reviews are always great. *hint hint*