It started off with a seemingly harmless tin.
And then Ward's cry went up: "Simmons has baked brownies!"
Of course, the unfortunate agent was soon smothered with a tea towel in a vain attempt from Simmons to keep him quiet while she ate in peace.
Unsurprisingly, this did not go to plan and the brief scuffle ended in an incident uncannily similar to the Unfortunate Incident at the Hub. Just as she had managed to drag her unsuspecting victim into a closet, Skye sauntered in and spied the open brownie tin.
By the time Simmons had walked back in, face red and her hair a mess, half of the brownies were missing and nobody was anywhere to be seen.
"FITZ!" she screamed.
"What's the matter?" he asked worriedly. He grinned wickedly as he spied the tin. "Ooh, brownies!"
"Hands off," she said, slapping his arm defensively, "They're mine."
"Alright, alright," he muttered grumpily. "No need to be so possessive."
Ignoring him, Simmons ordered him to guard the brownies with his life and marched off on the warpath to hunt down the culprit.
As if on cue, Coulson wondered in, enquiring, "Did someone say brownies?"
He looked around and spied a chocolate coated Fitz, licking his fingers guiltily. In a burst of panic, Fitz grabbed the nearby night-night gun and shot Coulson right in the chest. Fitz stared at his handiwork for a second, and swore loudly before dragging the superior agent (by the ankles) to the nearest closet.
Meanwhile, Simmons was prowling around in full spy mode, following the trail of crumbs, when she heard a girlish, Scottish scream.
"OH MY GOD, THERE'S A DEAD BODY IN THIS CLOSET! SIMMONS, WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE THIS TIME?!" The biochemist immediately dropped the spatula she was armed with and charged toward the source of the scream.
May also heard the scream and decided to investigate. First, she went to the kitchen, where spotted a rather empty tin of delicious, fresh looking brownies.
Just one wouldn't hurt, she told herself. It wasn't like she needed to lose weight or anything.
Because she was so busy stuffing her face, she failed to notice that someone was watching her.
"Bloody hell," Fitz cursed, as he stared at May from behind the counter, "This is just what I need." He picked up the night-night gun, preparing for extreme measures. Just in the nick of time, Simmons hurtled in. Luckily, Fitz stopped her just before she galloped into the chocolatey specialist. Shocked into silence, she saw Coulson's shoe poking out from behind the fridge.
"Oh, Fitz," she murmured. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing worse than you, I suspect," he grumbled scathingly, "I found Ward's body in the storage closet."
"Oh, yes," Simmons said interestedly, "I'd forgotten about that!"
Suddenly, both their heads snapped towards the tin.
It was only then, rather guiltily, that May realised she had finished every last brownie.