The thing about Jane Foster's life is that it's kind of really awesome?

Being a female scientist with two PhDs as well as more socially awkward than the average American teenager, there's no way to say that, really, at all. The awkwardness makes it come off like she's airheaded or absent-minded or whatever who doesn't take her job seriously, and the PhDs make it look like she's arrogant on top of all that, and to be fair the stuff she does is pretty cool so people are jealous, not that she would ever acknowledge that because acknowledging how cool it is, again, is the way to annoy the crap out of them.

What was the point here? Right, Jane's life is awesome. When her life's not constantly threatened and there's a minor stable period in the ups and downs of having a demigod superhero boyfriend with interdimensional responsibilities to deal with, it's totally awesome.

Not that the boyfriend thing's a problem anymore. Probably. Much. Whatever.

Not the point, Jane.

Did she say that out loud?

"You're mumbling again," Darcy calls ahead to her.

"Yeah, okay," Jane calls back hurriedly, and looks to the equipment in her hands, readjusting some levels and considering the readings. The building of flats they picked up some low-level signals from is at least quiet at this hour, mostly because in a district like this everyone is either working or asleep at 6 AM. "Can you take the third floor?"

"Why do I keep having to do stairs?" she complains. "The last building had six floors! You made me go to the roof!"

"Darcy! Please." Once reassured Darcy's going to go ahead by her little huff, Jane peers at the spectrometer and smiles for no real reason except that the levels are ticking up, thank god, she was starting to wonder if she'd dreamed seeing the uptick from the equipment they'd installed on the condo's roof.

Coming from a few doors she walks past, there's the blaring of a few TVs set to international news and similarly comforting things, and occasional talking, some snoring, mostly nothing. There's another hallway to her right, but the readings climb up as she turns to her left, so she looks at the door.

208. Okay then.

Wait. It's 6 AM. She might have thought this through better. What's she going to do, knock?

Jane closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and knocks the door. Her eyebrows rise; it creaks open. "You... are an open door. Okay. Cool. That's really convenient." Jane, you are talking to a door.

Why is she nervous? What are the odds that this door is going to lead to a world full of improbably gorgeous and powerful aliens, anyway? And even if it does, it couldn't even be surprising, considering literally everything in the last three years or so.

It's probably nothing.

She pushes the door open.

It is... a flat. A normal flat, cheap hardwood floors and bland carpeting, getting touchups, probably going up for sale, but it's definitely a flat, an empty flat, and she feels really stupid for getting all worked up like she was going to find Thor in here. Or Loki. Or anything. She tightens her grip on the scanner and makes herself smile, starting to check the flat for anything besides the occasional jump.

There's a massive, massive jump, then, and she laughs, sort of a cackle, and notes the time, going ahead a step or two just to see if maybe they missed something on the first floor, or if it's above them instead - if she's just sent Darcy up to basically find the same thing - she wanders forward, instrument in the air, her focus strictly on the numbers. She hears her footsteps echo on metal, and absently glances down at her feet to confirm it, wondering if she's stumbled across a grate or something.

No, that is definitely an entirely metal floor.

The numbers have changed drastically on her instruments. Probably. She kind of sees it, but she has made the mistake of looking up and ahead, and mostly she's having a panic attack, because SHE IS NOT ON EARTH AGAIN. Probably?

Even for a scientist that's a really unsettling amount of probably-s, and, honestly, what's most disquieting is probably the raccoon that's building something right in front of her from what appears to be basically spare parts.

"Oh my god," tumbles out of her mouth.

The raccoon looks back at her. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me," it complains. "Quill! Did you invite a girl on here again or is this another groupie? How do you even do it?"

"I'm a Guardian of the Galaxy, man," another guy calls out from behind Jane, and she jumps. "It helps. Is she hot?"

"She's human, I think," the raccoon says, and shrugs, going back to work on whatever he's building. "I don't fuckin' know."

"Like hell you don't, Rocket, beauty is basically objective."

"Oh look who's a goddamn philosopher today - "

"Excuse me," Jane finally says, summoning up as much indignation as she can. "I'm not a groupie."

The raccoon eyes her, but keeps on working. "Okay then what the hell are you doin' on our boat? By the way if you try to kill us I'll blow you to objectively pretty human bits. Does that change your answer?"

"No," she says - this has gone from exciting to frazzling very, very fast. "I'm a scientist. I - I'm from Earth. Like you said."

"Ooooookay," the raccoon says, and prompts her with a pointed look. "How'd you get here?"

"I have no idea," Jane admits.

A door inside the ship opens, and she's all prepared to see basically the other guy, the Captain Kirk of this whole ridiculous adventure, but it's... a green woman. A woman who is green-skinned, and gorgeous, and built like an Amazon. Jane is starting to wonder why there are so many insanely pretty people off-world and how shallow the dating pool looks once you've wandered into enough alien scenarios. And then she realizes she's staring at the alien and that is rude no matter where you're from, and she flushes and stammers. "I - I, hello, I'm, Dr. Jane Foster, I was - I'm - "

"My name is Gamora." She looks at Jane's scanner. "You're a scientist?"

"Yes," Jane answers immediately. That's easy, she can answer that. "I don't mean any harm."

"How did you get on our ship?" Gamora asks next, all casual suspicion, Jane notes, but for some reason she's not too worried that she's going to get Bruce Lee kicked into next week or gunned down with a giant laser. "Did Quill let you on?"

"It wasn't me!" Quill insists from behind his door, and the door next to the one Gamora came through opens. "I haven't even - woah, hi," he cuts himself off with once he sees Jane.

"Um," Jane says, trying to focus. "I was in Paris."

"France?" Quill asks slowly.

"Yes," Jane responds carefully. Wow, this is just... wow. "Um. If it wouldn't be too much trouble. May I. Study this phenomenon?"

"Lady, you're ten thousand light years from your lab or whatever at least. Sorry, but you're stuck," the raccoon says. "Now do you mind giving me that thing? Could do me some good right now."

Oh. Oh. She's trapped now. She's trapped forever. Jane's cheeks go bright red, she just feels it. "I."

There's a hand on her shoulder, and she jumps, looking back to see Gamora standing over her. "Let's go outside."

"But I want the thing," the raccoon complains.

"Rocket, shut up," Quill says. Jane isn't listening. Gamora's guiding her by the hand on her shoulder past the raccoon, and the door there begins to open when -

"Oh, oh god," Jane says in a rush, and nearly falls to her knees upon winding up in the dusty Paris flat again. When she looks up at Gamora, though, she could not look more alarmed.

"This is not safe," Gamora says, her voice catching. "This is... a problem." She backs up.

"Wait," Jane says quickly. "Wait. I can help - "

Gamora takes another step back, and vanishes.

Oh. Jane makes herself take a breath in.

That... at least explains one-quarter of the problem, which is more than she had forty-five seconds ago.

"Jane," Darcy says breathlessly from the doorway of the flat, "today sucks. I want a baguette and coffee."

"Not yet, Darcy," Jane says firmly. She digs out her notebook and whips up a chart to make it easier to plot everything on a graph everything once she's noted all the coordinates, then gets to work. "Come on."

"Jane," Darcy repeats, slowly. "Are you okay? Like..."

"I'm not crazy," Jane says, with pointed annoyance. "There's an invisible portal here."

Darcy's interested now, right at her side, trying to spot something. "There's a what? Did you go through the portal? Is the cake a lie? Can I go through? What's on the other side?"

Oh, that's the last thing Jane needs. "No!"

"Is Thor in there? Is he naked?" Darcy whispers.

"Darcy!" She's blushing again. "I told you! That's! Not a topic!"

"Not a thing, you mean."

"Not a topic!"

"Right, anyway, you look guilty," Darcy says, brushing past that and Jane herself, "so I'm going in."

"No," Jane insists, but Darcy's trying to go ahead, and, oh, oh hell no. "No, Darcy, I am your boss - " She tries to block her with her body. "I'm not letting you risk this!"

"You say risk, but every time you 'risk' stuff you get laid by hot aliens," Darcy says, "and by now I think I've earned a hot alien lay."

"Can we stop talking about sex? It's not that important!"

"Now I know you're crazy." Darcy makes another go at getting past Jane, and Jane hurries to make sure she doesn't wind up on crazy sentient raccoon-owning Enterprise, except Darcy just totally faked that so she could duck into the portal at the opening on Jane's left.

"Darcy!" Jane shouts, reflexively. There's a long moment where Jane is running through every curse word in her head, wondering if she has real contact information for Darcy's parents, and then she snaps out of it. She runs through the portal before she can think twice about it.

"Holy shit, little dude, you are awesome," Darcy is saying to the raccoon. "Can I help?"

"I don't know, do you actually know anything about bombs?"

Apparently this delights Darcy. "Who teaches a raccoon how to build bombs?" she asks rhetorically, beside herself in joy.

"I'm self-taught," the raccoon says, smugly.

"Darcy!" Jane snaps at her.

"What? I had to know!" Darcy says defensively.

"Hey. So. Fellow humans! I've got a pitch for you," Quill says, looking between Jane and Darcy. "Might be a really terrible idea. But. Hear me out!"

"No. No buts," Gamora says, and Jane barely can look at her for embarrassment. "We have to avoid increasing contact with Earth and the Earthlings this way." She cringes audibly, and Jane looks up, but she's missed something, between her and the captain, apparently. "I know, Quill. I know, but the risk inherent in letting anyone know this is here - with a world as vulnerable as yours - "

"It won't be that vulnerable if we're there. I'm just saying," Quill argues. "We could help."

"Help them fight off enemies we brought on them?" Gamora points out.

"Uh, hello, we have superheroes, we don't need... space pirates," Darcy says.

"We are not space pirates," Gamora says, her tone clipped and shoulders tensed in that instant.

"Darcy," Jane warns her, in the most cheerful way possible. "Mr. Quill, Gamora, um, Rocket? This is my intern Darcy."

"Lewis. Darcy Lewis." Darcy's eyeing up Quill, who is now dressed kind of ridiculously, and not even Asgardian ridiculously. Jane wants to groan audibly. "What's the getup for?"

Quill straightens and squares his shoulders. "They call me Star-Lord," he says, proudly.

"Still not sure on space pirate or superhero," Darcy admits, "but either way. You got booze around here? Jane, shh."

"I didn't say anything!" Jane insists, and looks to Gamora, helplessly. "...I'm sorry," she says. "I'm... going to work on this. Do you want me to take her with me?"

Gamora pauses, considering the question. "We have our enemies, Jane. We would risk our lives and yours, as well as possibly those of the people of Earth, if our enemies knew that we had a weakness like this."

"Just. Wait." Jane tries to think. "I can plot its dimensions. Figure out how large it is, how it works. I might even be able to close it? I've seen things like this before."

"You've seen things like this," Gamora repeats. "Have most humans?"

"Some," Jane admits, "but I'm not most humans."

"I can see that," Gamora allows, and a smile turns up the corners of her mouth for a moment; Jane tries to remember what she was going to say, or if she was going to say anything at all, but Gamora speaks first. "Do you need help in your work?"

Oh, right. Darcy is drinking space vodka with the captain. Jane presses her thumbs to her temples. "Oh - that's - not necessary." Jane Foster can totally speak English. That is a thing she can do. "But thank you."

"I think your friend will come to help you soon," Gamora says, a wry smile on her lips now, "but Quill has this effect on people. Distracting. He's well-trained in it. Come."

"I - " Gamora's gone ahead through the portal. "Yeah, okay," Jane says, falteringly, and exhales as she follows her through.

The good news is that Jane gets enough significant points plotted to get an idea of the shape of the portal. The bad news is that she has to hurry Gamora back inside the portal and take a tour of one of the furnished flats when they find her inside there, and that's when she has the best idea ever.

"I'd love to rent that flat," Jane says, and smiles radiantly at the realtor, especially emphasizing the PhDs after her name.

Okay, technically it's not a business expense. But this is going to ensure that she'll be able to deal with the portal no fuss, no muss, for at least a handful of months, and they could even live there.

Once she and Darcy go back through the portal and onto the ship, though, the Guardians seem less into the idea.

"It is unwise to make your home on the edge of an interdimensional portal," the bulky alien named Drax explains to her.

"I can see how that would be true," Jane starts, "but I think - "

"Isn't there like, someone you can hand this off to? No offense," Quill says to Darcy and Jane, "just, you know, two ladies, I mean - "

"You have got to be kidding me," Darcy says. "That is so fucked up, dude, what is this, 1950? Okay, Don Draper."

"What?" Quill says, totally puzzled. "Who's Don Draper?"

Jane clears her throat. "We know people who will defend it." Probably.

"We can help you defend it," Rocket says, either on edge or just casual, because Jane isn't sure if that's how he always is, really, "that's not the point."

"I am Groot," the four foot tall, currently potted tree next to Rocket says.

"Yeah that's a good idea, Groot, let's move in with them, you can be their housewarming gift," Rocket says sardonically. "Barely enough room for us on the ship, it's, what, 5000 square feet of nothin' on the other side of that thing?"

"I think he means Quill," Gamora speaks up.

"And you," Jane says. It surprises Gamora, catching her glance, but it surprises Jane just as much really because what the hell, Jane, the woman is green. It's a little conspicuous. Less so than the raccoon or the tree, but still conspicuous. "Just. You know. For. Fighting? And making communications to bridge the portal should be easy."

"That's easy?" Rocket asks her.

He's still impossible to read. Of course, he's a raccoon. "Relatively," Jane concedes.

"I like you, I think," Rocket says, thoughtfully. "We'll have to revisit that later. Have you ever done weapons tech?"

"Rocket, focus," Quill says, and looks to Gamora. "We'd need an excuse to dock here."

"You're great at excuses," Gamora says without missing a beat. "Do your best."

Jane's grinning a bit, but Darcy nudges her and is grinning ear to ear, and deep down she knows why and she doesn't want to think about it.

"Guess we could break the damn engine," Quill says reluctantly. "The things I do for good and justice. We dock here, get to, uh, look around Earth, Dr. Foster and milady Lewis get to sciencing to close this thing up for safety's sake or whatever, and everyone's good?" he checks.

"I am Groot," Groot interjects.

"I'm with him, this is the least interesting adventure we've had, but count me in. It'll give me a chance to breathe after the last disaster. Thanks Drax," Rocket says without taking a breath.

"You've had many chances to breathe after our last mission," Drax says. "Like right now."

"You were getting so good at this," Rocket complains.

"I am Groot," Groot persists.

"I know you didn't say it was a boring idea, I'm saying I think it's a boring idea, I'm not your translator," Rocket presses, dropping his voice.

"I am Groot!"

"Ignore them," Quill assures Jane and Darcy, then turns to the others, "and I mean that as affectionately as I can, my bros, but - are we agreed?"

Jane nods, then tentatively raises her hand as Drax raises his, and then Gamora, and Rocket sighs and follows suit after Groot raises a branch. Darcy pauses, and looks at Jane. "You're going to give me a raise, right?"

Jane throws her hands in the air. "I just rented a flat! In Paris! I am not overflowing with funds right now!"

"You rented in a shitty part of Paris! But seriously - "

"Fine!"

"Yes! I'm in," she tells Quill, and raises her hand.

"Agreed," Quill says, grinning. "Who wants drinks?"

Gamora, it turns out, does not want a drink, and neither does Jane, because she just wants fresh air. She finds a close enough approximation in the flat, which is dark and shadowy and there's just something so weird about what's happening. It's not only about the aliens - the weirdly specific aliens, the randomness of this portal, compared to how orderly the Asgardian "invasions" had been - it's about how this all fell into her lap, after nothing, so much nothing, and this is the first time the world's leapt into true color like Oz since Thor drew Yggdrasil in her journal and told her of science and magic and other worlds.

She pages to the drawing as Gamora walks to the window, and her mind jerks back to now - now, here, this world, these worlds, colliding. She turns to Gamora. "May I ask you something?"

"Yes," Gamora says. She seems less guarded, but still firm, almost military-trained.

How can a person be so intimidating and so fascinating at once? Jane reminds herself to breathe. "Where are you from?" she finally asks.

Gamora is silent for a long moment, and Jane seriously worries she's going to leave, but she says, "I would rather not talk about that right now."

"Oh." Shit. What did she just bring up? Dead parents? Dead planet? God. "Sorry."

"It's..." Gamora waves it away. Her head tilts up as she looks at the Paris skyline. "Your planet is beautiful."

"Paris is beautiful," Jane admits. "Some places, less so."

"True of all planets." Gamora glances back at her. "You should contact those heroes of yours. At least to let them know what you've discovered."

Jane sighs. "I'll see what I can do. It would have been easier... never mind." There's no point bringing up all the superhero nutjob spy organizations crazy from the last six months right now. She shuts the notebook, and approaches Gamora at the window. "You don't seem to fit in there. I mean. You're obviously a great fighter. Just. I don't know, I thought - "

"No. There are times. They are men." Gamora smiles, for an instant. "But they're my family."

"Guardians of the Galaxy," Jane says aloud, trying it out. "It's good. Catchy."

Gamora laughs, and it's so unexpected that Jane is particularly weak to it, and even if it's not visibly obvious it feels like her crush is now officially visible from space. From ten thousand light years away. "What are your Earth heroes called?" she asks, while Jane tries to put herself back together into comprehensible pieces.

"The Avengers? Um. They're, yeah. They're great. Only one woman there, too." Jane tries a smile, and it grows warmer as Gamora looks back at her. Jane, what are you doing? This is so typical. Wait, she's not talking and neither are you. She's expecting you to talk. "They saved us from an alien army. And, um. I knew an alien, I mean, he's... I knew him quite well actually, I - "

"Are you always so nervous?" Gamora interrupts her, and it's so unexpected it makes her gape for a moment, and that has to be really unattractive. "I mean it well, I worry that I've intimidated you."

Oh, god. Jane is beyond help now. "I - no - I mean - yes, you're... formidable-looking, but - I just - "

"Do you find it difficult to look at me?" Gamora asks, then sighs, and dismisses it again. "It's not important. It's only if we're going to work together - I feel that we would make a good team."

"Yes, I completely agree!" What's happening with her voice? Shit, fuck. "You mean, am I scared of you? Because you're an alien? Because I'm not, I'm just, I. You know how Darcy can do things like talk and be witty and, and all that? I am not that," she tries to explain. "That is not a human thing. That is a most humans thing."

"I prefer this," Gamora says, glancing away from her a little.

"I - okay," Jane says, not at all clear on what that means.

"I don't enjoy putting people in their place," Gamora says after a moment.

"...Ah," Jane says. That is only slightly clearer.

"Do you find me sexually attractive, Jane?"

There's a moment where Jane is sure that Gamora didn't say that. Then Gamora is looking over at her slightly, expectantly, and oh my god she actually said that. What is even happening these last two days? "I. Um."

"Please answer honestly," Gamora says hastily. "I only think I've read the signals appropriately. If I haven't, you can - "

"Yes," Jane says, before she can take it back, then wonders why that mattered so much. "I. That is definitely one reason I can't freaking talk today. Is that."

"I understand," Gamora says, still tensed; Jane feels her stomach roiling in knots in the best way. "Thank you for telling me."

"But." Now Gamora is looking at her, face to face, oh fuck, they are way too close, and Jane has to seriously pressure herself to talk. "Are you... I mean, are you offended, I would totally understand, I just - " Jane, stop. Jane, Jane, stop. Stop.

"I'm not offended. You are beautiful. I would happily take you for hours on end," Gamora reassures her, and Jane has pretty much never in her life gotten that aroused that quickly. "I'm a trained assassin and warrior. I don't do well with... advances, and tend to adapt in ways awkward to the situation."

"I, I can totally relate to that," Jane volunteers. She's still dizzy from take you for hours on end so sure her answer probably makes no sense but literally, who cares?

"A reasonable approach, worked out between equals, no oneupsmanship, is much better, in my opinion," Gamora goes on, her fingers drumming on the windowsill. "Don't you think?"

Jane is pretty sure she's supposed to be smart, but this has dumbed her down... a lot. She doesn't even have a stupid catchy phrase for it. "Yes," she agrees.

Gamora touches her, then, the line of her jaw with one hand, and the small of her back with the other. The kiss is originally as gentle as her touch, and then Jane's very, very repressed lust snapping open makes her shift up and against Gamora, hungrily pulling her closer and releasing a small sound into her gorgeous soft mouth. "Jesus," she swears, breathless, once Gamora's broken away to pull in a breath of her own.

"I would really like to kiss you again," Gamora says quietly.

"I - I - I - um," Jane says. She's rapidly getting in over her head. A lesbian alien rebound. "Yes. Let's."

There's only the two bedrolls, so far, because Jane hasn't had an amazing amount of time to go shopping, and the Guardians can't exactly fit furniture through the portal (yet, probably). Putting them side by side gives them enough space to make out like teenagers on Homecoming Night, or at least what Jane is given to believe Homecoming Night is typically like, what with that she never went to that, obviously.

"Gamora," Jane whispers between kisses, and steels her courage, reaching to cup her breast. "Please."

Gamora breathes in sharp as Jane's fingers tighten on her breast, but there's a pause then. "Tonight?"

When she puts it that way. "I - "

"I would. I said I would."

No. She's not ashamed, now; she just realizes how much more this could be. This woman, this person, she has incredible depths to her, plain to the naked eye, and that is the sexiest thing about her. "Do you want to?"

"I want to be with you, for now," Gamora says, uncertainly, and draws Jane's face back up to hers. They kiss, again, after a moment and Jane smiles after, staying close.

"Can you tell me about your side of the galaxy?" she asks.

Gamora smiles, too, then. "What do you want to know?"

It all works out kind of nicely from there. Plans are made, weeks go by, and Jane gets an amazing amount of data off of this portal that could keep her research going for decades. Quill and Darcy have a Grand Plan of their own; Jane is afraid to ask the details, and Gamora confirms that it's best at this point not to know. Quill and Darcy are gone most of the time, though, backpacking or whatever - that being what Jane has chosen to believe - and Drax, Rocket, and Groot seem to largely focus on convincing the people outside of the ship on the other side of the galaxy that there is nothing weird going on at all.

It's possible that no one besides them has noticed this. Gamora doesn't seem sure.

"I'm working on it," Jane promises her, after a particularly spirited makeout session ended with an accidental bite. "If I close the portal we won't have to worry about invasions anymore."

Gamora purses her lips. "If you close the portal - " She stops.

"If?" Jane starts, surprised. "You know we have to, it's a matter of, I mean, you guys could sta - " Oh.

It becomes clear from the look on Gamora's face that Jane reaching that conclusion is somehow the opposite of what she wanted, so obviously Jane's rubbing off on her somehow. "Yes."

"Gamora," she starts, carefully.

She looks hunted in that moment, hunted and miserable. "This was the plan from the start. And you're so close. All you need is your Dr. Selvich."

"Selvig," Jane corrects compulsively.

"Earth is more important."

It's ridiculous that the question "more important than what" is unnecessary to ask. It's ridiculous that Jane's wound up here again. She doesn't think she can do it. "You're right," she says, and sits up. "I have to go back to work."

Gamora pushes herself up as well. "Jane - "

"Do you want to help?" See, she's smiling. Everything is fine.

Gamora hesitates. "Yes."

Jane nods, and goes back into the main room. "Good. Dr. Selvig is supposed to call tonight. Then we can get to work on the device." She glances back to Gamora, and jokes, "Too bad Rocket won't be much help."

"I think you would be surprised," Gamora says wryly, and begins to write down the readings in the appropriate columns.

It's sort of funny to watch an assassin doing scientific lab work. "I have you trained so well," Jane jokes again.

"Dr. Foster," Gamora says, without looking up, with a plain smirk nonetheless, "I could show you training you wouldn't believe."

Somehow it's really, really dirty. She goes silent, red, and squirming all at once.

Six weeks is long enough, maybe. Long enough for something else besides a rebound to be happening, which is scary and wrong under these circumstances - the same ones as before, and the time before that. Six weeks is long enough to justify these feelings as something... something else. Something more primitive. Curiosity. Instinct. Blatant lust.

They manage to talk around it, somehow, but that evening it's all bruising kisses and bare skin and Jane practically shaking like a leaf. Gamora is more desperate than she's ever shown herself to be, apparently just as restrained in this unless she lets loose the reins, and she's got her fingernails in the small of Jane's back and the brief pain is worth the arch against Gamora's hips and the stirring she feels there.

"Oh," she pants. "Oh, god."

"Hmm." Gamora flattens her to the bed, smirks broadly, and draws a hand down Jane's bare stomach and panties and oh god Jane might just lose her mind completely, but - oh, fuck.

"Gamora," she whines.

"Trust me," she says, and raises an eyebrow. "I've waited for this. I'm not going to put it off too much longer."

The hunger in her tone is doing Jane in even more, and then Gamora slips off the bed to drop her panties to the bed, and promptly climbs back on to rip off Jane's.

Jane gapes indignantly. "I - those - "

Before she can come up with pointless words, Gamora slides between her legs and she's inexplicably terrified - then her tongue touches Jane's clit and her ease, her fingers, her laugh low and breathy and hot between her thighs, makes Jane stammer out syllables that mean basically nothing until she bites her lip and grips the sheets to keep herself a little quiet. As if she would ever be able to look the other tenants in the face again. It's hard enough now, hiding aliens upstairs - Yeah, Gamora spreads her legs and grips her thighs tightly and there goes her brain again. Jane gives up. And it's fantastic.

Selvig arrives two days later, one day after Quill and Darcy come back.

"You were going to call," Jane reminds him patiently.

"I thought I would come instead!" Selvig says, cheerfully. "Hello! Darcy's boyfriend! Good to meet you. Star-Lord, am I right?"

Quill looks hunted. "I, ah," he says hastily. "Yes, I am Star-Lord. Peter Quill. Sir. Darcy, can we talk?"

"Oh, whatever, you're the one who wanted the huge road trip," Darcy says, but follows him anyway, firing Jane a wink.

Selvig looks to Jane. "You've done most of the work already."

"Ha, I wish," she says. "I need you."

"You're overestimating my worth, my dear. But I'll do everything I can."

Jane smiles. "Thank you," she says genuinely.

"It was never a question." Selvig smiles back, and claps his hands together. "Now shall we? Or dinner?"

"Let's go over some things," Jane decides, and shows Selvig the ship. He stares. "...It's not so impressive after nearly two months."

"Do you think they would sell it?" Selvig asks her, probably anticipating the answer.

"No," Jane says honestly. "If we close the portal, Erik, I..."

"I know you've made friends these last weeks," Selvig says, not quite looking at her. "It's obvious, Jane."

Friends. Yes. That. "They're also powerful heroes. We could use that kind of firepower, so... so that none of these bad guys actually win one of these times."

"We have our own heroes," Selvig reminds her.

When did she stop believing that? "They show up when they want to."

"Who says these won't?"

"Erik - "

"Jane." She relents. "It's unsafe. You know that."

"I know." Jane takes a deep breath. "Do you want to see the data?"

"Absolutely," Selvig says, grinning.

Jane can't make herself ask, but she so needs it, and he provides it, sweeping her into a hug. She blushes in happiness, hugging him back. "Thanks," she murmurs.

"Yeah," he says, teasing, and lets her go. "Now. Data."

Still grinning, she leads him out of the portal and back to the flat.

It takes about a week, but they build the machine. It takes about a week because they spend a lot of time arguing about the point of building a machine if they don't know what caused the portal in the first place and whether or not there are more, for the most part, Jane thinks. It might have taken days otherwise.

Darcy opens her door and crawls into her bed in the middle of another sleepless night. "Are you really going to shut this thing down?" she whispers.

"The portal?"

"No, the hot tub. Yes, the portal."

Jane sighs. "Yes," she says.

"Why?" Darcy presses.

"I don't know, because aliens could invade through it at any time?"

"It's the size of an entertainment center! Three could come through at a time!"

"That's enough, isn't it?" Are they really doing this at around 1 AM? "It's not a question."

"It is so a question," Darcy insists. "We like these... people. Why are we cutting them off?"

"Because that's not the main concern here," Jane says levelly.

Darcy makes a face. "I think you're being really short-sighted here. You and Selvig."

Yeah, Jane's kind of offended now. "Really. We're the short-sighted ones here."

"Yeah," Darcy says. "Just closing the thing. What's the point in that?"

"It's not safe for it to be open, Darcy - "

"So only open it when it's safe," she says.

That makes no sense. Except it does. And her head explodes with ideas. "...Oh," she says, sitting up quickly.

"There we go," Darcy says, self-satisfied, and lounges back in the bed in a sprawl. "Time for another raise."

"Erik! Erik, get up," she calls in a stage-whisper across the room.

"I'm already up," he informs her, and gets up.

"Good. We have modifications to make," Jane tells him, and she looks back at Darcy to offer a faint apologetic smile before leading Selvig back to the portal.

"I cannot believe how smart you guys are," Quill says, rubbing his temple. "Like, wow, this blows my mind. I'm a pretty smart guy, too."

"Or something," Darcy says, nudging him.

"Whatever," Quill says, wryly dismissive.

"Look, you guys are great, but this is a bad idea," Rocket says, looking at the blueprints. "You really shouldn't make this thing. A thing that opens doors wherever to a planet full of morons who haven't figured out massive interstellar transit yet? Oh yeah, great idea."

"We already did make this thing," Jane says, co-opting his smug look, "so, so much for that."

"It's - I - fine," Rocket concedes. "Whatever, don't blame me when it goes haywire."

"First of all, this could technically be used in robberies, but I hope you wouldn't do that," Jane says. "And secondly, I included an explosive device option if the coordinates are changed without the disarm code." She eyes him. "I thought you would appreciate that."

"Wait, what?" He checks it again. "Holy shit, you did! My little scientist is all grown up. Dr. Foster, it's been an honor." He offers his hand to shake. (Yes, she's shaking a sentient raccoon's hand.)

"I am Groot," Groot says.

"Look, I'm not saying everything should have an explosive or a ballistic, buddy, you know that - "

Gamora's just looking at her when she directs her gaze away from Rocket and Groot. "Gamora," Drax says to her, apparently completely blind to the moment they're having, "there is another bird in the ship. What should I do with it?"

"Hey! Drax! I'm still Captain of this thing!"

"He knows if you tell him no I might tell him yes," Gamora calls over to Quill, and looks to Drax. "I don't know if we can feed the bird, but - "

"A bird? On a spaceship?" Jane asks Drax, genuinely curious as to the logic.

"My children had birds as pets. Of course, these were carnivorous birds. Easy to feed. Your Earth birds seem... less so." Drax looks desperate not to offend. "Are there carnivorous birds on Earth?"

"Yes," Jane concedes. "You may have found one - I haven't seen any yet. How can I not have seen them?"

"They like it in my room, it's warmest there," Drax says easily. "Will you look?"

"Of course," Jane says; it's easier than speaking to Gamora. She goes ahead, but it's like she read Jane's mind.

"Jane," she says, and, as if this all wasn't bad enough, there's pleading in her voice, just a little.

Gamora touches her arm, and they shift to a corner, less visible, less exposed. Jane exhales, and Gamora attempts a smile. "It has been an honor knowing you, Jane Foster," she says, "and if I don't see you again, I will... remember our friendship fondly."

Jane does her best to keep it together. No awkwardness, no tears, no weird emotional displays. She can do this. "Me too," she says. "I... you're. Just."

"Yes," Gamora answers, with a wry tone, and it's almost intolerable, all the things they're not saying, so Jane finally gives in and kisses her and it's like that first time, charged with all that potential and curiosity and terror of where do we go from here, what am I doing, and is this it, is this the beginning of something new and bright and the end of something fading away?

"You're always welcome," Jane says; the words are perfect. She smiles, and it feels just right. Gamora is smiling, and it's beautiful, and she wants to kiss her again, but instead she laughs and she goes to follow Drax, who's been patiently waiting.

"I hope it's a falcon," Jane says, merrily, high on the possibilities ahead of her, to Drax as the door opens. "All you need to be more intimidating is a trained falcon."

"I think many things could make me more intimidating," Drax says, eyeing her a little strangely.

"Well, it couldn't hurt," Jane points out, and just follows him into the room.