clint/natasha, handcuffed together
"My wrists hurt."
Natasha craned her head around--no mean feat since the two of them were handcuffed back-to-back on both sides--and gave Clint the Look. (Clint got the Look a lot, usually when Natasha was doing her best not to smack him upside the head. He got the Look from Coulson too, but Coulson's Look was slightly scarier, since he had the ability to make Clint do--shudder--paperwork.) "We're supposed to be helpless American tourists, Clint."
Clint wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, well, I hate cuffs. Seriously, give me thirty seconds--"
"No." Clint huffed out a petulant sigh and leaned back against Natasha. "Besides," she added after a moment of silence, "I could do it in twenty seconds, easy."
"I call bullshit on that, Nat."
"Well let's finish this mission, and we'll see, won't we, Robin Hood?"
Clint narrowed his eyes. "You're on."