"All right," Fitz sighed, briefly closing his eyes in concentration. "All right, can…could…everyone just…just stop talking?"

He leaned in close to inspect his options, relishing in the two seconds of silence he was granted. But it was never bound to last. He was running out of time.

"Come on, man," Trip said gently. "It's over. Some battles you just can't win, you know?"

"He's right, Fitz," Mack agreed, giving Fitz a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's okay to let this one go. Everyone'll understand. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Fitz heard a choking sound over to his right and a loud clink. "Oi!" Hunter coughed, swatting Mack's hand away. "Okay, you lot, you've said your bit, now back off and give the man some room."

"You can't be serious, Hunter," Trip chuckled, shaking his head. "There's nothing you can do that's not gonna-"

"He'll find a way," Hunter replied too loudly, drowning out Trip's protests. "He always does. And when that happens, you'll be sorry you ever doubted him." There was a short pause before Hunter's voice was directly in Fitz's ear. "You do have a plan, right?" he murmured.

Fitz continued to stare at the contraption before him, trying to ignore the comments flying back and forth, but the room was spinning a little and he could feel his focus starting to slip. He managed to give Hunter a distracted nod, though, and waved a hand next to his ear.

Thankfully Hunter took the hint and backed away. "There," he said with an air of satisfaction, but Fitz didn't even have to look up to know that the other two were probably not buying it. "Nothing to worry about. So we'll see who's laughing when-"

"That one," Fitz interrupted, pointing to a spot in the lower left corner before leaning back in his chair.

Hunter looked momentarily disoriented. "Wait, what?" he asked, sliding forward to the edge of his seat and taking care not to bump into the table. "Which one?"

Fitz indicated the spot once more. "That one."

Hunter's eyes widened in alarm. "That one?" he cried.

Fitz simply nodded, folding his arms as he ignored the snickers coming from the other side of the table. "Yup."

"Are you raving mad?"

"Just give it up, buddy," Mack advised. "I'm telling you, sometimes you gotta know when to throw in the towel, and right now that's looking like your best option."

Hunter was still staring at Fitz. "And you're absolutely sure?"

Fitz didn't bother giving him more than a glare in response, and Hunter nodded, even though he still didn't look convinced. "Well," he sighed, rubbing his hands together nervously. "You haven't failed me yet."

"Oh my God," Trip said incredulously. "You're actually gonna do it."

"Of course I'm going to do it," Hunter replied with indignation. "The guy's a bloody genius, if you haven't noticed, and I'm not gonna give up on him just because the stakes are high."

"It's not worth it, Hunter," Mack insisted. "You know what happens if you fail."

"I also know what happens if I don't," he responded quietly, reaching over to drain the glass in front of him. "All right, let's do this before I change my mind."

He leaned forward towards the structure, his hand hovering around the block Fitz had indicated. "You're positively certain that-"

"Yes," Fitz said in annoyance.

"All right, all right, I was just making sure," Hunter insisted, his fingers inching closer until he gingerly grasped the small piece. Fitz held his breath, knowing that despite his certainty, the entire enterprise hinged on Hunter's unwavering hands. Even Mack and Trip had stopped talking at this point, their eyes shimmering with anticipation as Hunter slowly removed the block.

Nothing happened.

Hunter remained hunched over, staring at the structure for five whole seconds before his mouth twisted into a grin. "Well, would you look at that."

"Hey, it's not over," Mack pointed out, running a hand over the lower half of his face. "You still have to-"

"I know, I know," Hunter said, rolling his eyes before taking another deep breath. "In the middle, yeah?" he asked Fitz.

Fitz gave him a nod, not trusting himself to say anything else. The next few seconds crawled by at an agonizing pace as Hunter leaned forward, carefully placing the block on top of the precarious assembly. As soon as the piece was in position, he held his hands behind his head and quickly stood up to back away from the table. The rest of them stared at the tower in stunned silence, but after a while it became obvious that Hunter had achieved the seemingly impossible.

Not that Fitz was surprised.

"Damn," Trip muttered, shaking his head.

But Mack was inspecting the tower, undoubtedly looking for evidence of a sleight of hand. "There's no way."

"And that, my friends…is how it's done," Hunter laughed, giving Fitz's shoulders a squeeze before sitting back down in his seat. He leaned back, opening up another bottle of beer that inexplicably appeared in his hands. "What's it up to now, mate?"

"Two weeks inventory, one week kitchen duty," Fitz recited, enjoying the shocked looks on their opponents' faces more than he thought was possible.

"Well, boys," Hunter smiled, taking a sip. "You fought a noble fight, worthy of any of the greats, really. But alas, the sweet taste of victory belongs to-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa," Mack interrupted, holding up his hand. "You're talking like the fat lady sung already. But she hasn't even started warming up yet." He gestured to the cards in front of him. "We've still got a hand to finish."

Hunter sat up, his jaw open as he stared at Mack in disbelief. "You actually think you can still win this?"

Mack's face didn't falter for a second. "You're damn right we're gonna win this," he said in a quiet voice.

Hunter held his intense gaze for a moment longer, his expression slowly changing from doubt to mischievous amusement. "Ready to put your money where your mouth is?"

"Two weeks inventory, two weeks kitchen," Mack replied without hesitation. "But you know what? Let's sweeten that deal," he grinned, briefly sharing a knowing glance with Trip. "Losers also have to clean the bathrooms for a week."

Fitz tried to catch Hunter's eye, but he was already shaking his head. "Scum doesn't get to raise the stakes, only King gets to do that."

"I am King," Mack protested.

"Wait, I thought it was President," Trip said in confusion.

Fitz and Hunter spoke at the same time. "It's King."

"Yeah, so I played the two tens," Mack continued. "And then you tried to play that crap about the Jack, I called your bluff, you somehow managed to appease the Jenga gods even though I'm pretty sure there was dark magic involved, and now here we are." He pointed to his chest. "But I'm still King."

"Whatever," Hunter said in irritation. "You seriously think you're gonna be able to convince me you've got anything better than a ten at this point?"

Mack's lips curled into a smile. "I don't," he replied, leaning back in his chair and looking over at Trip. "But he does."

Right on cue, Trip laid a card facedown in the middle of the pile. "Unless you've got two aces hidden up your sleeve…it's over, Hunter."

Hunter looked back and forth between Mack and Trip. "An ace?" he asked with a laugh. "That's the best you can do?"

"Check it if you want," Trip shrugged. "But you'll only make it worse for yourself."

"Well, that was easier than I thought," Hunter muttered, throwing down his last remaining card. "Deuce."

"I'm sorry, what'd you call me?"

Hunter's brow furrowed in confusion until he seemed to realize what Trip meant. "Two, it's-it's a two," he clarified, pointing to the card.

Trip stared at him. "Didn't have you pegged for a comedian, Hunter."

"Oh, you think I'm joking, do you?"

"That or you're just out of your damn mind if you think a two can beat an ace."

"Course a two can beat an ace, that's how it's always been."

"The game's rigged, Mack," Trip shook his head. "Now he's just making crap up."

Hunter ignored him, using his hands to gesture pointedly in front of him. "Two's up top, then it's ace, then it's King, Queen, and so on. You can ask anyone."

"It's true," Fitz piped up. "That's…yeah, the two, it…er…it beats…it's better than the others."

"Thank you," Hunter replied, nearly poking Fitz in the eye as he pointed towards him. "You see? He agrees with me."

"Yeah, he agrees with you," Mack argued. "He's on your side."

The banter continued across the table for a few more minutes, but Fitz couldn't have said he minded. In fact, for the first time in a long time, he felt…content. And sure, perhaps it was the alcohol-induced haze he was currently in, or the fact that despite his disadvantage he'd still been able to determine which block would keep the wooden tower intact. But he didn't care. Because for just a short while he was able to forget about how frustrated he constantly felt. For just a short while he didn't have to think about how much he'd lost.

But, of course, it was never bound to last.

He wasn't sure when it happened, whether the others went quiet first or if he heard the door open or if somehow he just knew, but all of a sudden she was there.

"Fitz, did you-" she began, only to stop short at seeing the group around the table. "Oh."

"Simmons," Fitz said, sitting up quickly and trying to fight past the buzzing in his ears. "Is it…has anything…d-did you…" He stifled a groan, knowing he had the words but that they dangled out of his reach, an affliction that was not entirely derived from his injury. "Do you need something?"

Fitz could have smacked himself. Do you need something? The words themselves were harmless enough, in theory. But it was the way he'd said them, as if he were bothered by her presence rather than by the fact that he'd had to focus all of his energy on getting a simple sentence out. And that wasn't even taking into account that there was no way she actually needed him. She'd never needed him, and chances were she probably never would. Could he really not have chosen any other words?

There was something else, too, something playing on the edge of his mind, but the room was spinning even more now and he couldn't grasp onto it. Instead he had to painfully watch as Jemma avoided his gaze.

"No, no, it's…I was just seeing if…but it's not…never mind," she stammered, giving them all a tight smile as she backed out of the room. "I'll just let you get back to…" She gestured towards the haphazard tower and the array of bottles littering the table, her voice trailing off. "Excuse me."

Fitz closed his eyes in humiliation, unable to believe himself. He wanted nothing more than to follow her out the door, but something told him that in his current state he would probably just make things worse. He'd have to talk to her later, preferably when he was positive he could walk in a straight line.

To his relief, the others didn't seem bothered by their most recent interruption. And to his further relief, Hunter kept his comment to himself until Jemma had disappeared.

"You know, I still don't get that," he said, raising his eyebrows as he took another swig of his beer.

Mack's eyes flicked over to Fitz before he looked at Hunter. "Don't get what?"

Hunter leaned forward, setting his bottle on the table and resting his elbows on his knees. "How long did you say you two've known each other?" he asked, turning his head to Fitz.

Fitz was caught off-guard for a moment, unsure where Hunter's question was coming from or what it had to do with anything. But he sighed and looked down at his hands, more as an excuse to avoid everyone's eyes than because he needed his fingers to count. "Um…well, I guess by now it'd be…nine? No…it's ten years now. I think." He glanced back up at Hunter and tried to make sure his expression remained as neutral as possible, despite the heaviness he felt in his chest by the reality of the answer. "Yeah. Ten years. Give or take."

A confused look passed over Hunter's face, and he tilted his head as if he were trying to figure something out. "So you didn't meet at the Academy then?"

"No, we…we did, yeah," Fitz replied, his discomfort growing as Hunter squinted at him.

"How old are you, mate?"

Fitz scoffed, folding his arms. "Old enough, thank you."

"Whatever," Hunter dismissed, shaking his head. "Ten years?" he asked with a level of disbelief that Fitz felt was hardly justified. "You're saying you've known each other for ten years? And in all that time, you've never-"

"Hunter," Mack said quietly, giving him a pointed look.

Fitz didn't have time to argue before Hunter sat up, holding out his hands in front him. "Look, all I'm saying is there has to be a story there."

Now it was Fitz's turn to be confused. "Story?" he repeated. "No, there…that hasn't…well…there's not…I mean, it's not strictly…" He sighed, his hands falling to rest on the arms of his chair. "There's not a story."

"Oh, really?" Hunter said doubtfully. "Because from what I've heard, SciTech is pretty damn competitive. And you're telling me that when you two met, everything was peachy keen and you were best mates right off the bat?"

There was silence following Hunter's question, and Fitz was baffled to see that even Mack and Trip were looking at him expectantly. "Well…that's…it's-" he stuttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Not…exactly."

"See?" Hunter smiled, grabbing his bottle again as he stood up. "Story."

Fitz opened and closed his mouth. "Wait, it's not-"

"Even I gotta hear this, man," Trip said, laughing as Hunter tossed him and Mack new beers.

"But…it's…" Fitz sighed, staring at the cold bottle that had been placed in front of him and knowing there was really no way he could get out of this one. He reached forward and twisted the cap off, already regretting whatever he was about to say.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?