Very short, but here you go. Apologies for any errors and please review if you wish.
"Stop making jokes and concentrate!"
Gamora withdrew her sword from the wall beside Peter's head. Peter gulped and moved from the wall; his legs weak.
"If you were concentrating, you would have seen me preparing to throw that and you would have been able to stop me."
"You could have killed me!" shrieked Peter, flailing his arms around.
"We're training. There are risks," shrugged Gamora and adjusted her stance. "Get in position," she ordered and Peter did as he was instructed. "I deliberately didn't aim for your head; I don't want you to die."
"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Concentrate, Peter."
Peter's eyebrows dropped in concentration, his eyes scanning Gamora's trying to figure out when she would make her move. Peter stood up quickly, suddenly feeling scared, and wobbled backwards, "Can't I have my guns?"
"What? No!"
"Why not? You have your sword," Peter gestured to her weapon.
"Because your guns could seriously injure me."
"And your sword couldn't injure me?"
Gamora stood up straight and narrowed her eyes, "My sword isn't controlled by an idiot."
Peter opened his mouth to comment but Gamora shushed him and pulled him closer to her.
"Spread your feet wider," she ordered, "You have terrible stance."
"Pfft, I do not," scoffed Peter, his hands on his hips, shuffling his feet apart.
"If you stood like how I'm telling you to now when we are actually fighting, maybe you wouldn't fall over as much."
Peter rolled his eyes but let Gamora move his legs and arms around until he was in a position that she thought more resembled a warrior.
"Now," she began, stepping back into her own position, clutching her sword, "I want you to try and remove the sword from my hand."
"Easy enough."
"Don't get cocky, Peter. You don't have your guns remember."
Peter gulped then took a deep breath. He launched himself at Gamora, who kicked him in the chest sending him flying backwards. He coughed and spluttered as he staggered back up onto his feet.
"Don't just throw yourself at me. Think about your moves before you do them."
"How else am I supposed to get it?!"
"Use your brain."
A loud, obnoxious laugh came from behind Peter. He turned around and glared at the Raccoon.
"It's bold of you to assume Quill has a brain," Rocket continued to laugh, then sat down on the ground with Zargnuts in hand.
"Hey! I have a brain! Why are you here anyway?"
"To watch you get your ass kicked by a girl," laughed Rocket, with a snort, shovelling Zargnuts into his mouth. He choked after Gamora's boot hit him, with a loud thump, on the head.
"Shut up, rodent," she snapped. She removed her other boot, kicking it to the side, "Now you have an advantage, Peter. Use it wisely."
Peter eyed her up and down, trying to work out where to attack her first. She had her hair down, but he wasn't going to pull that. She had tight fitting clothes on so there was nothing he could cling onto and use to pull her down. He looked at her now bare feet and took a small step forward.
He and Gamora slowly moved around in a circle, Gamora watching him closely. Suddenly, his fist was in front of her face, her hand had been quick enough to move it and stop it punching her, but then a shooting pain ran up through her leg as Peter stomped on her foot. She bent slightly and Peter used this as an advantage to then hook his arm around her waist, kick her in the back of the leg and flip her over. Her sword made a clink as it hit the floor.
"Thinking of your moves ahead of time, well done," smiled Gamora. Peter hovered over her, smiling. "Though, never assume you've won."
Peter winced as her elbow made contact with his throat, and she wrapped her legs around his waist pinning him to her. She rolled him over and grabbed her sword, holding it to his neck and smiling.
"Good try, though."
Peter groaned as Gamora got off him. She helped him up and straightened his top for him as he dusted himself off.
"You're getting better," she smiled up at him.
Peter bent over trying to regain his breath, "I don't think… I'll ever… be able to… beat you."
"It's not your fault I'm so good," teased Gamora and Peter laughed. "You need to learn some new moves."
"Why don't I teach you some new moves," said Peter, wiggling his eyebrows.
Gamora sighed, shaking her head and picked up her boot, "Don't make me throw this at you."
She collected her other boot from beside an angry Rocket, and walked back to Peter. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
"What was that for?" she asked.
"For not killing me."
Peter leaned in to kiss her again but Gamora pushed his face away with her hand, laughing.
"Hey, why don't you teach me how to use a sword?" asked Peter, grunting as Gamora helped him up onto the Milano.
"Swords are my thing."