{Chapter: 91 - Leg Paying Year}
Late into the Night
As the rest of the base sank into peaceful slumber, the lab remained bathed in soft, sterile light. Outside, the stars twinkled silently above the island, but inside the hum of machines, the glow of monitors, and the gentle rustle of papers filled the air with quiet energy.
Jemma Simmons, wearing her signature white lab coat over a loose t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, sat perched on a stool, completely engrossed in her work. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose, her brows knitted with focused determination. The Gene Potion—a mysterious elixir told to awaken latent abilities—sat in a sealed tube, rotating slowly inside a centrifuge. She watched its color shift faintly under the sensors, her expression bouncing between fascination and frustration.
Though she was a biochemist by specialty, and not strictly a geneticist, her curiosity wouldn't let her walk away. She couldn't sleep. The puzzle was far too intriguing, too challenging to ignore. How did this serum actually trigger powers? Was it splicing active genes? Or unlocking dormant ones? Could it be retroviral? These questions filled her mind as she scanned graphs and heatmaps.
Aiden stood silently in the doorway, having entered unnoticed. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed casually over his chest, watching the young woman work. There was something captivating about seeing her like this—so focused, so vibrant in her own world. Her legs crossed beneath her on the stool, her messy ponytail hanging over her shoulder. She looked like the brilliant girl-next-door scientist that every action hero somehow stumbled upon—and he'd be lying if he said she didn't steal his breath a little.
He smiled and stayed there for a moment longer, appreciating the rare serenity of the scene. But eventually, the warmth in his eyes turned playful.
"Burning the midnight oil, Dr. Simmons?" he finally said, voice low and smooth, cutting through the soft humming in the room.
Jemma flinched slightly and looked up, startled. When she saw it was him, she visibly relaxed, though her cheeks flushed a faint pink. "Oh—Aiden! You startled me. I thought everyone had gone to bed."
"I couldn't sleep," he said, strolling toward her with a casual swagger. "So I thought I'd check if the gift I gave was being appreciated properly."
Jemma tilted her head in confusion. "Gift?"
He grinned. "The Gene Potion. You've been glued to it for days now. I figured I deserved at least a thank-you kiss. Or maybe just a peek at what's under that very... generous lab coat."
Her blush deepened. "W-What?! Aiden, that's completely inappropriate!"
But she didn't get up, didn't storm off—didn't even stop smiling shyly.
"You're not denying it though," he said with a chuckle. "Come on, don't tell me you wore those denim shorts not expecting me to come by?"
Jemma laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wore them because they're comfortable. And it's hot in here. Not everything's about you, you know."
"That's a shame," Aiden said with a wink. "Because if it were, I'd call those shorts a masterpiece. Legs like yours shouldn't be hidden away under layers of cotton."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes—though she tugged her coat back just slightly. "You're impossible."
"Impossible to ignore, maybe." He reached out and gently tugged on the lapels of her coat. "May I?"
Jemma hesitated, heart fluttering. There was something about him—dangerous, charming, confident. He could sweep her off her feet with just a look, and yet, he never pushed beyond what she allowed. That balance was maddeningly attractive.
"I suppose… if it's for science," she murmured, standing up slowly.
She slipped off the coat, revealing her slim figure framed by a simple t-shirt and those infamous shorts. Her legs, fair and toned, caught the lab lights perfectly.
Aiden's eyes flicked down, then back up, admiration obvious. "You know, there's a saying… 'Legs so gorgeous, I'd pay a year's rent just to see them.'"
Jemma laughed, half-embarrassed, half-intrigued. "That's absurd."
"But true," he insisted. "There's nothing demeaning in it, I promise. Just honest admiration. And right now, you've got me considering signing a lifetime lease."
She tilted her head, trying to look skeptical but failing to suppress her grin. "You're very dramatic."
"It's part of my charm," Aiden said, stepping closer. "But I'm also serious. You're brilliant, Jemma. You light up this lab more than any screen or scanner. I'd trust you with my life, and honestly... with a future."
Jemma blinked at the sudden turn of sincerity. "Future?"
He nodded. "If SHIELD ever collapses—and trust me, the cracks are already there—I want you with me. I've got resources, labs, equipment. What I don't have... is someone I can trust to run it. Someone with your heart and your genius."
Her smile faded slightly as she mulled it over. "You really think SHIELD could fall?"
"I know it can," he said quietly. "Hydra's still slithering beneath the surface. It's only a matter of time. When that time comes... I want you by my side, not swept away in the fallout."
Jemma looked down at her hands, then back at him, her voice soft. "If it came to that… maybe I would."
Aiden's expression softened. "Then it's a promise. And when that day comes, I'll make sure your lab has the best coffee machine in the world."
She laughed again, this time with more warmth. "You drive a hard bargain."
He leaned in close, his hand gently brushing her waist. "Goodnight, Simmons."
Before she could respond, he kissed her cheek lightly, lingering just enough to make her blush fiercely.
"G-Goodnight," she stammered, watching him as he turned and walked out of the lab.
Left alone, Jemma stood still, her fingers brushing the spot where his lips had touched. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a whirlwind of curiosity, confusion, and excitement brewing inside her.
For the first time in a while, she forgot about genes and chemicals. All she could think about was him.
---
Three Days Later
The past three days had passed in a peaceful rhythm that felt rare in their line of work.
For Aiden, it was the closest thing to a vacation he'd had in months. No missions. No absorbing Aether. No threats lurking in the shadows. He chose to spend that time productively—or at least in ways he found fulfilling. When he wasn't in the training chamber slowly studying the strange yellow fear crystal, he devoted most of his hours to accompanying Daisy and Jemma… though if anyone was keeping count, it was Jemma who received the lion's share of his attention.
There was something about her—perhaps her intelligence, or that bright-eyed curiosity that never seemed to dim. Jemma Simmons wasn't just a brilliant biologist. She was young, passionate, and fiercely driven. Her analytical mind never rested, and when she studied something, she gave it her entire self. That dedication was captivating.
And now, with the Gene Potion spread out before her on the lab table, she had entered what Aiden called her "research mode"—the hyper-focused state where everything else faded into the background.
She wore her white lab coat like armor, moving confidently from one end of the lab to the other, checking results, adjusting equipment, and scribbling notes on a tablet. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and the light from the monitors reflected in her glasses.
The Gene Potion had quickly become her obsession.
In just three days, Jemma had made significant initial progress. She had dissected the chemical composition of the serum, studied its reaction to various stimuli, and deduced the fundamental mechanics behind its transformation properties. Though she wasn't an expert in genetics, her knowledge in biochemical responses was advanced enough to provide her a foundation. The results intrigued her—particularly the chaotic randomness of the acquired abilities.
Jemma, being Jemma, wasn't satisfied with randomness. She wanted order. Predictability. Control. And so, she shifted her attention toward uncovering patterns, trying to discover if the injection's results could be influenced—perhaps even manipulated—to produce specific types of abilities.
Though progress in that area was slow and uncertain, she had uncovered several theoretical avenues worth exploring. Even Aiden, who had encountered many gifted minds before, couldn't help but be impressed.
It wasn't just admiration, though. He was genuinely fond of her.
Every evening, after long hours of research, Jemma would find Aiden leaning against the doorway to the lab with a charming smirk and two cups of coffee—or sometimes tea, if she looked too exhausted. They talked, laughed, shared theories, and teased each other. Occasionally, he'd sit behind her and massage her shoulders, his fingers working through the knots formed from stress and hunching over for hours.
She'd blush, every time.
---
On the morning of the fourth day, the sun filtered softly through the blinds of the facility windows, casting long golden shadows across the corridor. Aiden stood near the transport pad with a small duffel slung over his shoulder.
He had decided it was time to return to the island base.
Though Blink had done a decent job keeping things in order in his absence, Aiden knew better than anyone that even the most well-trained agents could only do so much without guidance. The base wasn't just a stronghold—it was a symbol. It was his responsibility.
Just as he was keying the coordinates into the transporter, a familiar voice broke the silence.
"You're leaving?"
Aiden turned around to find Phil Coulson walking toward him, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
The future Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him a knowing look. His eyes were calm, but there was something unspoken beneath them—something watchful.
Aiden offered a faint, boyish grin. "You worried I won't come back?"
Phil nodded, completely honest. "Yes. I'm worried you'll just vanish into the stars and forget the promise you made."
Aiden raised a brow in mock offense. "You wound me, Phil. I promised I'd let you see my spaceship, didn't I?"
"You did," Coulson replied. "And for a guy who owns an island, absorbs the powers, and wields ancient artifacts, I'd say a spaceship isn't too much of a stretch. But you're also unpredictable, and unpredictable people have a way of… conveniently forgetting their promises."
Aiden chuckled. "Fair enough. But you'll get your tour. Just not yet. Things are still… chaotic. I need to stabilize a few systems, double-check security protocols, make sure no one's trying to blow up my engine core. You know, standard housekeeping."
Phil smirked and extended a hand. "Then I'll hold you to it. Don't make me send a Quinjet after you."
Aiden took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Duly noted. If anything too crazy happens here, call me. I'll come back."
Phil gave a half-wave and walked off, leaving Aiden alone with his thoughts.
He glanced down the hallway, half-expecting to see Jemma racing toward him in a flustered state, carrying a last-minute data pad or trying to make him stay just a few hours longer. But she didn't appear.
She was probably still in the lab, still working.
He smiled to himself. She wouldn't come to see him off—no, she was too focused for that. But he appreciated that about her.
Still, part of him hoped she'd miss him.
Just as he was about to step onto the transporter pad, he heard the soft patter of footsteps—light, quick, and unmistakably familiar.
Turning around, he saw Jemma rushing down the corridor, her ponytail bouncing behind her and her cheeks flushed pink.
"Aiden! Wait!" she called out, slightly out of breath.
He raised an eyebrow and took a step off the pad. "You're not in the lab?"
"I finished compiling the data early. I thought I'd at least say goodbye properly," she said, stopping in front of him. "Also, I think you forgot something."
He blinked. "Really? What?"
She reached into her pocket, then pulled out a folded slip of paper. "My hypothesis notes. I want you to look at them. And maybe—maybe think of me when you do."
Aiden took the note, then looked at her. "You didn't have to run all this way just to give me a piece of paper."
She lowered her gaze slightly. "I know. But I wanted to."
There was a moment of silence between them.
Then, without thinking too much, Aiden stepped forward and gently pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist—if anything, she leaned into him.
He brushed his lips against her forehead and whispered, "I'll be back before you know it. And when I do, maybe we'll get to work together—officially."
She looked up, her eyes soft. "I'd like that."
With one final smile, Aiden stepped back onto the hanger. The energy field shimmered around him as he shot off.
Jemma stood there, hands clasped in front of her chest, watching as he disappeared in a flash of white light.
For a long time after he was gone, she stood there, holding the empty air.
And then, with a small smile of her own, she turned around and headed back to the lab—where the future waited.
*****
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