Gamora's sigh echoed off the walls of the Milano. Her eyes stared straight ahead at the blackness of space, the stars floating by as we passed them from inside the ship.

She looked down and then closed her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

My soft voice pulled her out of the silence.

"Nothing." She said quickly, almost defensively.

"Just tired...and homesick."

I nodded.

"So why the interesting breath?" I asked, not daring to look into her intoxicating eyes.

"Maybe a little lonely?"

Gamora shook her head. "No."

"Are you and Peter having problems?"

She smiled thinly. "Fran, it's not working out."

"Why?"

Gamora looked down again. "It's not that hard."

"I know Peter is really hard to get along with sometimes but-"

Gamora sighed. "He's too masculine, perhaps."

"Are you..."

I couldn't get the words out before Gamora began kissing me.

And it didn't matter anymore what I was going to say.