{Chapter: 167 - Spending Time With Mei And Kira And Potion Research Success}
They didn't speak at first. Aiden simply walked beside her, maintaining a constant three-foot distance like it was sacred. Close enough that she wouldn't feel abandoned. Far enough that he wouldn't trigger anything. Mei didn't look at him once.
Still, she didn't leave either.
They strolled through the base. A few operatives passed by, giving nods or small smiles, but quickly backed off when they saw the air between them. The silence wasn't violent—it was just heavy. Like something lingering in a hospital room after the machines go quiet.
Aiden cleared his throat once. Then again. Finally, "...You hungry?"
"No," Mei said flatly.
He nodded, absorbing it without complaint. "Still early."
They passed through the courtyard where wind danced through dry grass and sun warmed the benches. Aiden gestured toward one with a glance.
Mei hesitated. Then sat.
He sat too, careful not to cross the distance. Not even with his knee.
"I thought maybe... we could talk," he said.
Silence.
Then she asked, "About what?"
He tried to smile, but it came out cracked. "Your childhood. If you want."
Mei snorted softly. "Why? Looking for the trauma that made me easy prey?"
"No," he said quickly, eyes meeting hers. "I just want to know you."
"Too late for that."
"I know," he whispered.
But she spoke anyway.
"...I used to draw," she said suddenly. "Back before all this. I drew everyone I met. Couldn't help it. Faces stuck in my mind. Especially the ones I knew would die."
Aiden listened, still.
"Then one day, I drew my own."
That froze him.
"It was just a blur," she added. "But I knew. My face wouldn't be mine anymore."
"Mei—"
"I'm not saying that for sympathy," she cut him off. "I'm saying it because... I don't think I hated you as much as I wanted to."
His throat tightened.
"But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. That I didn't cry like hell the morning after. That I didn't hate myself more."
"I regret it," he said, voice low, raw. "I regret forcing it. Not the... not the closeness. Not the way we held each other after. That part was beautiful. But the way it started—"
"—was a violation."
He nodded. "Yes."
A breath passed. Then another.
"You vanished, Aiden," she said. "You left me bleeding in silence."
"I didn't know how to stay."
She glanced over. "You're doing better now."
"I'm trying."
A pause.
Then: "You're still keeping three feet."
"I don't deserve closer."
She smirked faintly. "Smart."
Kira arrived about then, bounding over with wild energy and a suspicious bounce in her step.
"Success, Master! It's a success!" she practically shouted.
Aiden blinked. "Kira?"
"The formula! It's done. Tested. Ten volunteers, ten full success rates. The ability potions are real."
"That's..." He blinked, stunned. "That's huge."
"I know!" Kira beamed. "Five of the power type ready by tonight."
"Good. We'll take them when I go."
"You're leaving?" Mei asked. Her voice gave nothing away.
Aiden nodded. "Tomorrow."
Kira suddenly glanced between them, lips quirking. "Well. That's sudden."
Mei stood abruptly. "I'm going for air."
She walked off without waiting.
---
The rest of the day was a strange haze.
They ate lunch together, all three of them at a long metal table in the lab's mess area. Nobody said much. Mei sat between them. Kira kept glancing at Aiden over her drink like she wanted to crawl into his lap but thought better of it.
The air was thick with things unsaid.
"Jemma's you said bout design for the gene potion... it's art," Kira said, stretching. Her midriff showed, and she caught Aiden's accidental glance. Her smile sharpened. "You keep looking, I'll start charging."
Aiden coughed. "Wasn't looking."
Mei rolled her eyes. "You always say that."
It was a joke. A small one. But it cracked something open between them. Aiden smiled—not widely, but sincerely. Mei didn't return it, but she didn't shut him down either.
That night, they ate dinner on the roof. Aiden sat beside Kira this time. Mei across from them. The sunset stained the sky orange and red, and for a moment, the war, the guilt, the lab coats—all of it vanished.
Mei toyed with her food, gaze far off. Kira leaned close to Aiden's shoulder, whispering something he couldn't catch. Her warmth made him tense, but he didn't move.
Mei noticed. Said nothing.
Later, as they stood by the door, Aiden looked at her.
"Mei..."
She met his eyes.
"I'm sorry. For what I did. For what I took. For leaving."
She didn't say anything at first.
Then quietly: "You can't fix it in one day."
"I know."
"But thanks for trying."
He nodded.
Kira hugged him—tight, fast, and full of feeling. "Don't die out there. You owe me a Diamond ring." she whispered in his ear so silently that only he could hear it.
He laughed softly. "I'll bring the expensive stuff."
Then he turned to Mei.
She didn't hug him. But she did something else.
She reached out and gently tapped his shoulder with her fingers. Just once.
A touch. An acknowledgment. A fragile thread.
"Goodbye, Aiden," she said.
And for the first time, she didn't call him anything else.
He turned. And walked away.
It wasn't that Aiden didn't want to stay and enjoy the moment— spent some time Mei, he truly did—but the world wasn't going to save itself. Duty called, and he had responsibilities weighing on his shoulders like a thousand-pound rucksack. The luxury of peace could come later—after the mission, after the science, after the chaos quieted down.
As Aiden returned to the Marvel world.
The base was quiet, dimly lit by soft LED panels that lined the hallway like a lazy constellation. Aiden stepped out of his quarters and made his way down the corridor with silent precision. He wasn't just here to rest—he had something important to do.
He stopped in front of Jemma's door and raised a hand to knock, but his fingers hesitated for half a second before gently tapping against the polished wood.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the door cracked open, and standing there in a pair of oversized pajamas and tousled hair was Jemma Simmons—brilliant biochemist, hopeless perfectionist, and recently, the architect of a breakthrough that could change everything.
"You… you came back?" she blinked in confusion, her voice groggy with sleep and laced with concern. "Where have you been the past few days? You just… vanished."
"It doesn't matter," Aiden said gently, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Jemma turned, mouth opening to ask more questions—but before she could get a word out, Aiden wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a sudden hug.
It startled her. She stiffened slightly in his embrace, caught off-guard. "Y-you… What's going on with you?" she asked softly, unsure whether to be concerned or comforted.
Aiden didn't let go right away. "Ah… nothing. Just—just a little excited. You're amazing, Jemma," he said as he finally released her. His eyes were bright, animated with rare enthusiasm.
He didn't give her a moment to process before pulling her gently by the hand toward the bed, where he waved a hand and summoned a small array of glowing vials. Each one shimmered in its own hue, delicate as a firefly in a bottle.
"Are these… gene potions?" Jemma asked, her scientific mind immediately snapping to attention.
"Your research was a success," Aiden said, eyes gleaming. "You've created something that works—something that's safe. A hundred percent success rate. No side effects. No risks."
Jemma blinked, awe and disbelief flashing in her gaze. "Wait… really?"
"You earned this," he said, gesturing to the potions like a magician presenting his final act. "Pick one. Any one. You've more than earned a reward."
Jemma blinked again, surprised by the sudden freedom. "You're letting me choose?"
Aiden grinned. "Of course. Don't think I didn't notice how hard you've been working. You deserve a little magic in your life."
Her gaze swept across the shimmering potions, fingers brushing her bottom lip as she considered her options. "Then… I choose Telekinesis."
He raised a brow. "Not Future Sight? Really? Knowing the outcome of your experiments in advance would be… insanely useful."
Jemma shook her head with a small smile, folding her arms. "Tempting, yes. But no. I prefer the old-fashioned way—test, fail, analyze, repeat. Plus, didn't you say that the future isn't set in stone? It shifts and changes. Observing it might just influence it. You know… Schrödinger's cat."
Aiden laughed. "Yes, yes… Quantum mechanics, superposition, dead-and-alive cats. I know the story. A hypothetical cat locked in a box, neither dead nor alive until observed. Paradoxical, chaotic, poetic."
She stared at him for a beat. "Okay… you actually know that?"
He shrugged with a smirk. "What, you thought I was just a guy with good hair and a punchy right hook?"
"Frankly, yes," Jemma replied without missing a beat, teasing him back. "Not everyone can quote quantum paradoxes like bedtime stories."
"Ouch. That's… harsh. I'm not that dumb. I may not be Stark or Richards, but I know my basics. Plus, I passed college physics… with caffeine and sheer willpower."
"Must be the Chinese half," Jemma quipped, stifling a laugh.
"Hii—that's borderline racist," Aiden mock-sighed, but his smile was wide and unbothered.
"Borderline charming, you mean."
They both laughed—light and genuine. The tension between them now had a different flavor: playful, teasing, and faintly electric.
"Well," she added, reaching toward the vial of telekinesis, "I chose this one because it'll make my lab work easier. Moving materials, adjusting machines, managing samples without ever leaving my desk? Heaven. I'm not a field agent, Aiden. I don't need to see the future—I need to make the present more efficient."
He nodded approvingly. "Smart and practical. I like it."
"Can I… take it later?" Jemma asked softly, her fingers grazing the potion but not lifting it yet. "I didn't expect this… success. I'm still processing. Maybe in the morning."
"Of course," he said, watching her with amused curiosity. "Honestly, I'm still a little excited too."
Their eyes met—and lingered.
"Would you like to… calm each other down?" he asked with mock innocence, but the heat in his gaze betrayed the playful undertone.
"C-calm down?" she repeated, blinking rapidly. "How exactly do you propose we—?"
He answered without words.
Aiden stepped closer, one hand sliding around her waist while the other came to rest at the nape of her neck. Then, without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
Jemma tensed—just for a moment. Then her hands found his chest, not to push him away but to hold on tighter. Her knees weakened under the sudden rush of heat, and soon, she was kissing him back.
When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, lips tingling.
"I feel… more excited than before," she whispered breathlessly.
"Me too," Aiden replied, his voice low, his smile a little smug.
Jemma ducked her head, heart racing, suddenly shy. "I-I think I need something to distract me. Something to actually calm me. Maybe… the evolutionary potion? I could analyze it, maybe stabilize it further…"
"You sure?" Aiden asked, already pulling the vial from his system storage. "It's the only one I have."
"I'll be careful," she said softly. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," he said with quiet confidence, placing the vial into her delicate hands. Their fingers brushed for a beat too long.
Jemma held the vial close to her chest and looked up at him. "Thank you, Aiden. For trusting me. And… for everything."
He winked. "Just don't blow up the lab."
"No promises," she smirked, tilting her head playfully. "You do tend to be… distracting."
Their eyes locked again. And the tension—sweet, promising, maybe dangerous—lingered in the space between them.
As their lips met again.