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Chapter Text

It was close. So very close. Never before had Fitz and Simmons seen a Jenga tower support itself on such a barren base. They more than doubled it's original size, and had to spend most of their turn looking for a possible block to take. They were lucky the skies were clear, because even the slightest turbulence would send the whole tower tumbling.

"Got it." Simmons whispered as she placed her last piece. She backed up past the warning line and Fitz stepped in.

"I'm surprised you managed to get that without a step stool." he muttered.

"Me too."

Fitz circled the tower twice before he found a fitting piece. It was about two thirds of the way up, but still held a good deal of weight. Fitz held his breath as he tapped it once. And then again. The friction held the piece in place.  He took a few steps back to regain his breath, and then moved in again. He positioned himself to strike. Simmons held her breath, even though she was five feet away. The tension could be plucked like a guitar string.

Fitz struck. In one fluid motion he snatched the piece from the structure. He waited a second. The tower stood.

"Simmons?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you get me the step stool?"

"Sure." She didn't even care if she had to do without it. Simmons handed it to Fitz, who took it without looking away from top the tower. He placed it a few inches away from the bottom. Fitz paused after he got on the stool. Sweat formed on his brow. There was the tower. And only the tower. Nothing was more important than the tower.

He positioned the piece above its new spot.

"Playing games?" May asked from the door way. Simmons squeaked and Fitz dropped the piece. The tower shivered. And then stopped.

"You almost ruined it!" Simmons shouted. She was so caught up in the game that Simmons didn't even notice who she was yelling at. Fitz got off the step stool and stormed toward May.

"This is literally two inches away from a world record. And we're on a plane!"

Then, something dawned on Simmons. "Wait, if you aren't flying, who is?"

"Coulson."

Just as May said it, the plane jerked a bit. Hundreds of tiny wooden blocks crashed to the ground. Fitz and Simmons didn't even turn around. A tear formed in Fitz's eye.

"Two inches..."

Simmons comforted him as May rolled her eyes and walked out. She had to stop herself from apologizing.

Chapter Text

It was redemption time. And Coulson wasn't going to screw it up. Fitz and Simmons had painstakingly replicated every move they made on the Globemaster. And after two hours, they were back. The base had been reduced to a skeleton. Coulson, Sky, and even May, watched the wonder. It's a miracle that Coulson let this happen on the Hellicarrier, but he felt bad about last time.

"And there." Simmons whispered as she placed the second-to-last block.

"Without the step stool again."

"Exactly as we had it." Simmons stepped behind the warning line. Fitz swallowed as he walked up to the tower. He knew where the next piece was. The image had haunted his dreams for the past two days. Fitz breathed in. And struck. The tower didn't even shiver.

"Ok. I got this." Fitz muttered to himself. Simmons handed him the step stool. He took it and placed it in front of the tower. Simmons bit her lip. Coulson and Sky held their breath. Even May tensed up.

Then, Fitz carefully placed the block in his hand. And he backed away. The others would've cheered, but too much sound would sent the whole thing tumbling. Fitz backed out of the circle of warning tape surrounding the tower.

"You're up." he said. Simmons just nodded. Now, they crossed into unexplored territory. Reached where no airborne Jenga tower had reached before. Simmons inspected the tower for a few minutes. She settled on a piece two layers above Fitz's. When she tapped it to check how much weight it held, it didn't budge. She used a slower, more cautious method than Fitz, placing one finger on either side of the piece. She slid it out, bit by bit, centimeter by centimeter. Phil and Sky squeezed each other's hand for comfort. Fitz shook with anticipation. May nonchalantly turned away, not because she didn't care, but because she couldn't bear to watch. It was almost out. Almost there...

"Playing games?"

Simmons jumped, pulling the piece out. The tower swayed one way. And then the other. The crowd followed the top with their heads. It oscillated twice more before it stopped.

Simmons turned to Director Fury, "Why would you do that?"

"Do what?"

"We were obviously in the middle of something very important."

"I see... Sorry."

Fitz started muttering to himself, "Oh no. No no no no no. It's happening again."

Simmons nodded and went back to the tower. The step stool was still there, since Fitz forgot to remove it. She got up on it, and swallowed.

"Please. Please lord." Fitz whispered. Simmons placed the piece and got off the step stool quickly.

"Nice going."

"Thanks. You're up."

"Two more and we've done it." Fitz said as he approached the tower. He didn't know this at the time, but Director Fury's grip on the rail had tightened from excitement. Fitz felt it. This was the run. They got over the "playing games?" hurdle. Nothing could stop them now.

The piece that Fitz found was at shoulder level, so it was kind of awkward. He readied his hand to strike, like a burglar trying to steal the royal jewels, except he didn't have to worry about a pressure sensor.  The movement of Fitz's arm was fast and fluid. The tower didn't move at all, even without the piece in his hand.

Fitz allowed himself a smile. After this, it would be all up to Simmons. He used the step stool again, and paused.

Then, something hit the Hellicarrier. It sent a tremor through the ship. Fitz stood still as the tower collapsed in front of him, the last piece still in his hand.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. I was coming to tell you guys that Stark would get here soon." Fury said.

"One... inch..." Fitz stuttered. After a minute of silence, Coulson and Sky comforted Fitz and Simmons. May simply walked out, feeling something clench up in her chest. She could hear the name "Stark" shouted from halfway across the Hellicarrier.

Chapter Text

"You know, you're pretty good at this game." Natasha said.

"I played it quite a bit when I was a kid." Clint replied as he finished his turn.

"We should've started somewhere else, we're going to run out of space."

"It's fine. It'll probably fall before we reach the ceiling."

Natasha casually took her turn, "Not because of me."

"Ok, maybe it won't fall." Clint said as he slowly pulled out another block. He placed it in the two inch gap between the Quinjet ceiling and the Jenga tower.

"Why do you even have Jenga in the first place?"

"For when we have a long flight. Like now."

"Fair point." Natasha added another piece to the top of the tower.

"Besides, Tony made us an auto pilot. Why not use it?"

"Also makes sense."

Clint finished his turn, "Speaking of Tony..."

"Yeah?"

"Wasn't he supposed to talk to Fury about some new specs for the Quinjet today?"

"What about it?"

"We should ask for a taller ceiling."

Natasha smiled as she jumped to place another block, "He'd probably endorse it."

"But what about Fury?"

"But what about him?"

Clint chuckled. He stood on his toes as he added the last piece. "Wow."

"We really did run out of room."

"I'm showing this to Tony." Clint said as he pulled out his phone.

"I'm sorry... I guess? It's not like I knew you were about to break a record." Tony said. Fitz was uncomforted.

"Twice! It's happened twice now! I'm cursed..."

"You'll get it next time." Coulson said. They still hadn't cleaned up the Jenga blocks all over the floor. Tony pulled out his phone, and couldn't quite hold back a small laugh.

"You think this is funny?" Fitz shouted.

"No... well..."

Coulson looked over Tony's shoulder and also giggled.

"What is it?"'

"You don't want to know." Coulson said. But Fitz was not in a good mood. He snatched the phone from Tony's hand and stared at it in awe. It was a snapchat from Clint, with a picture of a Natasha standing next to a Jenga tower. It rose from the floor of the Quinjet to the ceiling. A message at the bottom of the screen read: "Hey, Tony, could we get a bigger plane?"

"Just out of curiosity..." Fitz said with a shaky voice, "How high is the Quinjet ceiling?"

"Seventy two inches." Tony said.

"Three inches... they beat the record by three inches..." Fitz dropped Tony's phone in awe. Clint and Natasha didn't notice that Fitz didn't show up to work for three days after that.

Chapter Text

Two months had passed, and Fitz could look at any precariously built structure without breaking down. The Guinness Book of World Records never heard about the seventy two inch tower, mostly because those pictures weren't allowed to be released to the public. But everyone at SHIELD heard about it through the big mouth of Tony Stark, who thought it was the funniest thing since the time Steve walked in on Natasha and Bruce playing "hide the cucumber" (that's not a euphemism, by the way).

But one day, after a long mission, Simmons woke Fitz from a well earned nap.

"Fitz... Fitz, wake up." Simmons said as she gently shook him.

Fitz lifted his head "Wa..."

"C'mon."

Fitz rubbed his eyes and followed Simmons to the back of the Globemaster. She was excited about something, because she couldn't stop smiling and her hands needed something to squeeze.

The door slid open to the cargo bay, and the sight took Fitz's breath away. There stood a seventy two inch tall Jenga tower. It was beautiful. And there was nothing that could go wrong.

"Happy birthday!" Simmons said.

"D-d-do you want me—"

"To finish it."

Fitz looked at Simmons for a moment. He smiled and hugged her.

"Thank you!" He said. When Fitz let her go, he dropped his smile. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity. He grabbed an available piece using his personal technique. Simmons put the step stool down without Fitz saying a word. He climbed on top, and readied the block. There it was. The last one. And he'd have the record.

He placed the piece.

The tower stood.

Fitz slowly got off the step, and turned around.

"Woo hoo!" He jumped and pumped his fist. Simmons got a picture while he was still in the air. But when he landed, a tremor shot through the ground. Hundreds of wood blocks crashed to the ground. For the third time. Fitz still smiled, but now it was scary and creepy.

"Simmons?"

"Yeah?"

"You got a picture, right?"

"Yeah."

"And that was seventy-three inches, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Great. Now, please, do me a favor, and get out of the cargo bay."

Simmons gave him a concerned look as she walked out. Fitz moved over to the control panel for the cargo bay door, and held onto a strap. He entered in a code and opened the door.

"No Fitz! We still have to deliver the..." Simmons shouted. But she was too late. Both the crate with the strange alien artifact they found just the other day, and the Jenga blocks, tumbled out of the plane. A few seconds after the last block flew off, Fitz closed the door.

"They're gone. They're finally gone." he said.

And that's why Director Fury outlawed playing Jenga inside of any vehicle 36,000 feet above sea level.