I wasn't originally going to make another chapter to this story, but special agent Ali had reviewed the last chapter and gave me a great idea for a second fic. Thanks for the idea!

Clint had been on the armory floor training and about to shoot targets with his arrows. Tony and Natasha, on the same level, had suddenly heard him deliver an outraged cry, and came running into the target area.

"What's the matter!" Tony asked eyes wide. Natasha brought up his rear cautiously, a pistol already drawn, pointing, and ready to eliminate any threats.

Clint stood bow in hand, looking terrified. "What is this crap!? Just listen to this!" He demonstrates shooting an arrow, only for the action to be accompanied by harp music and the sound of birds chirping. "Hear that? What am I, a friggen cartoon now?"

Natasha drops her gun to her side with an amused snort and Tony cracks up with a slap to his knees.

"Can't believe the bastard actually went through with it."

"Went through with what? Stark, you know who's behind this?"

"You might want to talk to Goldie Loc... Oops, I can't even call him that any more. Anyways, just have a chat with Hammer Time about it."

"Get him in here." Clint demanded through gritted teeth.

"Right, well I should probably get to that business meeting with Pepper. I think an hour is considered fashionably late enough, don't you? But I'll get JARVIS right on that. "

Tony glances at Clint's arrows once more and chuckles to himself before exiting.

Natasha grins and then opens her mouth to say something, but Clint cuts her off, "Nat, don't."

Smirking, she quips, "Alright. See you later then, Cupid," as Clint grumbles in her wake.

When Thor eventually enters the room after several minutes, he is donned in sleeveless armor without the cape. Sporting his freshly inflicted military haircut, he looked almost ordinary: a man simply role playing in medieval wear.

"Barton, you wished to see me, my friend?"

"Our friendship is currently debatable. What the hell, man?" Clint aims and shoots at another target before him, only for it to be followed by the same harp music and chirping birds.

Thor tries to stifle a laugh, but his grin still looks a little too smug for Clint.

"Ah yes. With the help of an Asgardian acquaintance, I have had an enchantment placed upon your arrows."

Clint stares at him. "Oh geeze Thor, thanks for telling me ... WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR, YOU MORON!"

Thor, the only one in good humor apparently, emits his trademark rumble of laughter.

At last he explains. "Anthony Stark had enlightened me to the rules of your Midgardian game of truth or dare. He thought it satisfactory if I attempt a dare myself, so he generously gave me suggestions. It seemed only fair to outwit the challenge you so willfully proposed... once you sheared my locks."

It might have been the light, but when Thor met Clint's gaze, his eyes seemed to turn a menacing shade of storm cloud gray. Thunder was suddenly heard in the near distance.

Clint immediately took a step back from him. "Whoa whoa whoa big guy! That was only done as a joke during my game with Nat."

"Indeed, as this is done in jest as well in my wager with Anthony."

Clint scowls, "Fine. Yippy freaken doo! Congrats, you successfully accomplished a dare, now take the damned spell off. I don't need a pansy-ass soundtrack every time I nock an arrow."

"Of course I shall". Thor begins, his smile widening, "... After my tresses return in length. "

Clint stands there mouth agape watching Thor stride out the room. "If that will be all, good day my friend."

"Thor!" Clint finally calls out, face aflame, "Your hair better grow back freaken fast, buddy."