Rolling his eyes, Cisco sighs at her response. She's making it sound like she's trying to one up him and he's not really making this out to be a competition so much as he has no idea how many she had left to check that could still be fixed without doubling back through and drawing attention to herself.

"Well, pin a rose on your nose, Samantha. That's eleven, so then we're probably around forty-five percent functional to sixty-five percent non-functional. What are the odds we'll get off on a successful mission status?"

He works his way the other boxes, slower than he'd like because he's so dead tired, but not so slow that he's dragging them both down with a lack of progress. "I'm heading back to the first box to meet you," he tells her as he finishes up the last one and starts back in that direction.