Sorry for the wait, I've been swamped with homework. Also, don't expect updates quickly for the next three weeks. My exams are starting in two. This chapter's a bit shorter than usual, and I'm only posting this because I couldn't bear to keep you lovely readers waiting any longer. Thanks to anybody who reviewed, followed or favorite, or even just viewed. Reviews fuel the already (hopefully) strong fire, people. Oh, and for those of you who haven't watched the series, sorry about the Transformers references.

He made to run into the kitchen, fantasizing about twisting that annoying insect's neck, when his path was impeded by a number of darts sticking themselves to his leg. He quickly swung around to the left, where the ambush had come from, murder in his eyes, and was met by a hail of rapidly fired darts, sticking to his stomach, arms and legs. He identified the source of the onslaught as one red head spy, with a ground mounted machine gun in front of her, firing for all she was worth, which was not much to him right now. As he made to apprehend this new assailant, he was once again disturbed by the actions of the first attacker, who stuck three simultaneously fired arrows into the side of his head.

"Avengers, assemble!"

Tony's cry quickly roused the others, who immediately ran to the kitchen, dodging Fury, and pelting him with an additional two eggs, which insured their getaway. Clint nodded to the sack beside him. They dove as fast as lightning to the bag, and each pulled out their respective weapons.

Fury almost forgot his anger for a moment when the other Avengers ran by, and almost sighed when he was hit by two more eggs. Then an arrow stuck itself firmly between his eyes, and his rage was back. Quickly casting his eyes around the room for any non-lethal weapons, he saw the only choice, and almost sighed again. He would not be reduced to throwing eggs, he would NOT. Oh, hell. He quickly picked up two in each hand, and threw a first wave of two eggs at the kids, which was blocked by Steve and that… that… Oh, he was going to kill Sitwell. He threw another egg, which met a violent end when met with an impact from Thor's new plastic hammer. He really was going to kill Sitwell. He threw his last round, which hadn't even gone halfway across the room when it was deterred by swift cover fire from Natasha.

Jan noticed way before anyone else, and was already on the floor in peals of laughter because of it. Bruce noticed second, since he wasn't on the front line. Steve was third. Clint and Natasha noticed it slightly later, because they were firing relentlessly, and had momentarily forgotten the notice everything training that had been so deeply ingrained into them. Tony noticed only when he looked up from some offensively pink bubbly concoction he was making at his chemistry set, no doubt for the Avengers' battle. He was sixth to notice. Thor was the second to last, as he was paying attention to nothing but trying to deter any more of Fury's weapons in their duty. One by one, they all noticed that Nick Fury was standing in front of them, covered in smashed eggs, darts and arrows in a variety of colors, and two little bits of custard cookie mix. They promptly broke into peals of laughter, rolling around on the floor, assault completely forgotten.

Nick Fury was the last to notice it. He only realized why the children were all laughing after about five seconds. And then he saw red. Those two assassins had to be dealt with. NOW. He quickly grabbed each of them by the feet, and dangled them upside-down in midair, heedless to their demands for release.

"You want a piece of me? You want a piece?"

Clint shot an arrow each at his eye patch, his forehead, and his cheek. Stupid kids and stupid movie quotes. What was that, Transformers? He narrowed his eyes thinking, 'No… I want two!' and picturing himself pulling Barton apart. Then he mentally shook his head. No no no no no no no, he would not fall into their world of trickery. Do not let the demons win! NO! That was also a line from Transformers. Oh, nonononononononono, wait that was Sam! Oh, crap, DO NOT fall into quoting movies. Nick Fury does not quote movies.

A hail of darts hit the side of his face, breaking him out of his reverie. Okay, they were going to PAY. Something hitting his knees took his attention there. Thor was hitting them with his hammer, and the rest of the team wasn't far behind. Fury bolted. Natasha and Clint dangled upside-down in his hands, yelling extremely creative obscenities, and trying to shoot him with those irritating suction cup tipped arrows and darts.

"Burn, you sucker, burn!" Natasha hit the side of his face with a storm od darts. Stupid, stupid Transformers.

He reached a random room and barricaded himself inside using a desk, dropping the spies onto a bench. A little plastic hammer beat fruitlessly on the other side of the door, soon joined by a shield. He had to act fast. It was only a matter of time before Stark made some solution to melt down the door. He rounded on Clint and Natasha, livid. They didn't even flinch. He smiled with a vindictive pleasure as he snatched away their weapons.

"What? NO!"

"Mr. Furry!"

He continued to smile, and trapped them on the bench with a desk that was too heavy for them to push away. He discarded the gun onto a chair, and held the bow in both hand, and raised it to shoulder height. Clint's eyes widened in realization.

"No, you wouldn't."

He bent it slightly.

"No! Nononononononono!"

He bent it more.

"Please, Mr. Furry… err… Fiery!"

That was the last straw, even if it was an accident. Natasha patted Clint consolingly on the back as he looked away. KATTRACK! The snap of plastic breaking filled the room. Natasha put her other hand on his shoulder as he fought tears. At this, Fury had a moment of clarity, and he wondered just when it was that he had become so evil.

Then the moment was gone, and he allowed himself to live in the pemporary moment, reveling in his revenge.

"Fury?"

Aw, crap. She had arrived. Jan's voice was as sharp as a blade as it cut through the door, sounding so threatening that he was almost scared. But he wasn't. Nick Fury was never scared. But he had to act fast.

"Fury, I'll blow open the door in five seconds if you don't respond in that time."

Crap. He quickly grabbed the Nerf gun. A calculating look crossed Romanoff's eyes. One moment before it happened, he knew what she was going to do. She screamed.

"Time's up!"

He was dead. But he could die in glory. He threw the gun to the ground and stamped on it with all his might. This time her wail was real. The door was blown off it's hinges, the desk along with it, to resounding cheers from the kids. He bailed through a back door, dignity be damned.