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Entry #6: SHIELD [or, "Avengers Disassemble"]
As it turned out, telling Clint to freeze was in vain. Sheet white and shaking like a leaf, he fainted dead away several seconds later and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Normally, someone would have caught him before he hit the tiles, but under the circumstances, no one wanted to risk getting bitten by the feared Banana Spider (or Phoneutria Arachnida, which sounds much more deadly).
Natasha was the first one to cautiously approach the still body of Clint, her eyes glued to the dark spot on his jacket. When she got within a foot of him, Nat stared for about a minute in complete silence. Then she visibly relaxed and reached out to touch the menacing object on Clint's SHIELD jacket, ignoring shouts of "No!" and "Don't do that!"
She picked it up and let it dangle from her fingertips for a moment, turning to face the small congregation that had retreated to a safer corner of the office. Her explanation was short, said with zero enthusiasm, and accompanied by a disappointed scowl: "Lint."
The room was immediately filled with groans of relief, frustration, and despair.
"The guy oughtta empty the filter in his dryer once in a while," groused Steve, not amused in the slightest.
And Stark, for once – likely due to the intense amount of fear and shock he had recently experienced – was deprived of a really, truly, snarky remark.
"Excuse me." The voice was so mellow and unassuming that the rest of the Avengers barely heard the words. They turned around to see Bruce with his hand on the bottom of an upside down, empty water-glass that was resting on the table. "I believe I've captured your escapee, Agent."
True enough, there was a largish, hairy brown spider crouched in its makeshift prison.
"Mister Fuzzwell!"
Tony made a loud gagging noise as Natasha dashed across the room – stilettos and all – and peered beyond the glass barricade at the fuzzy, ugly arachnid within. "Thank you Dr. Banner."
"You're very welcome, Agent Romanoff."
Half a minute later, Mr. Fuzzwell was back in his firmly-latched "carrying case" and tucked safely away in Natasha's pocket.
Clint was still passed out on the floor.
Tony and Cap managed to hoist him into a chair and (sort of) prop him upright, even going so far as to fold his hands on the table and turn his head in the general direction of Director Fury. "Just in case he can still hear us!" explained Tony with a characteristic smirk.
When everyone was seated, Director Fury resumed his chair at the head of the table and sighed. Heavily. "May I have your attention… again."
Every Avenger except Hawkeye looked up at him.
"Thank you. Stark, Banner, can I count on you?"
"Yes, Sir," Bruce supplied.
Tony acquiesced as well, and then grumbled some things that were less than complimentary.
"Excellent. Avengers…er…disassemble." Fury gave himself a mental facepalm. That hadn't come out quite right, but nobody laughed at him.
…Nobody ever laughed at Director Fury.
Review if it made you laugh! ;)
~Alassiel