Peter thought it was luck when he ran into her.

Sure, it was a little coincidental, but he'd seen weirder things in his line of work. The bounty hunter he'd been hired to take out just showing up outside his regular base of operations on Knowhere wasn't the strangest thing considering her line of work. Probably there for a bounty.

He thought he'd been lucky. Most jobs usually took a bit more reconnaissance, especially when it came to someone as skilled and mobile as her. She never stayed in the same place for too long. They were similar in that respect. What he generously referred to as his base of operations was really just his favorite bar on this seedy, crime infested shit hole.

He thought he'd been incredibly lucky when he caught the flash of green out of the corner of his eye, halfway through a bottle of the cheapest liquor Knowhere had to offer when he got a good look and realized that yes, that was Gamora, daughter of Thanos, walking past the dirty, dingy windows that practically came with every building here. Knowhere attracted a certain unsavory element, including the bar Peter was in right now. The people who frequented the particular establishments here were probably a feeding ground for bounty hunters with the right skills. It was just unfortunate for her that she passed by the bar that a mercenary who'd been hired to kill her was drinking in. He'd done his due diligence gathering intel on his upcoming target, but he hadn't even begun narrowing down locations or tracking her movement yet.

Peter thought he was lucky when he saw her just walking down the street.

He should've realized sooner.

Instead, he made a quick exit, settling up his tab and leaving a grossly generous tip rather than waste precious seconds splitting hairs before he stumbled out the door, half worried he had already lost her.

When he'd spotted the whip of black purple hair and signature leather halfway down the block just as she turned the corner, he should've known.

But he didn't catch on until it was too late. He could blame that on the cheap and crude alcohol that had already made its way into his system, but still. He should've known better than to go after someone as good as her when he'd already been drinking.

He should've realized when she didn't look back over her shoulders even once as he surreptitiously followed her. Someone with her history and training would've been paranoid as heck, and certainly watching her own back as she walked through the streets covered in grit and grime with shady dealings happening everywhere you turned.

She didn't check over her shoulder even once. He should've known something was up. But no, when she made her way through one of the alleyway openings that littered the streets of Knowhere and opened to a secluded back balcony, he just followed her like an idiot.

He didn't even have time to turn his head before she got the drop on him, coming out of nowhere (or behind the wall, more likely), slamming him into the ground and immediately following up with a punch to the face.

The metallic tang of iron and the unmistakable taste of blood suddenly filling his mouth wasn't unfamiliar to him, hardly, in fact. Spitting the blood out of his mouth and into the soot that had been kicked up by a scuffle on Knowhere's streets- this wasn't anything new to him. Losing the upper hand this early in a fight, being caught so off guard, he was a little less used to this. But he'd always been good at thinking on his feet.

Peter tried to pull his knees up in order to kick her off of him, but it didn't do much good when she was literally pinning him down in the smothering ash. Gamora knew what she was going after though- the gun strapped to his hip. She ticked her lips at his squirming and struggling, but his wild movements and flaying limbs did nothing to dislodge her. Peter soon gave up on trying to throw her off of him and instead focused on landing as much damage as he could with his fists.

Gamora growled and dug the heel of her palm into his solar plexus after her head snapped back from a punch, and it stunned him long enough for her to snatch his blaster and pull back just in time to dodge another blow.

She was already up and away before Peter managed to scramble onto his feet with an empty holster, which he didn't even realize was missing something until he saw it in her hands. After she stole his gun (his favorite!), Gamora then proceeded to drop it over the railing and into the endless void of space.

Peter was completely dumbfounded, but already reaching for the daggers he had hidden under his clothes by pure reflex, his knees bent as he shifted onto the balls of his feet to adopt a fighting stance. He'd have time for mourning the loss of his favorite weapon later. Right now he was getting ready for a fight.

Her eyes flashed with something like amusement. No, not amusement, Peter realized. Challenge.


He thought it was lucky running into her just like he did.

Evidently not.

Peter was clearly very unlucky. Even with her skill, he thought the fight would be over soon. Now, as they'd circled each other for probably about the millionth time after another clash of blades, he'd been proven wrong. Every attack and defense was evenly matched, and what he'd thought would be a reasonably quick fight had been dragged out much, much longer with no sign of stopping soon.

He was very unlucky to get a target as skilled as her. This wouldn't be easy.

Especially since she came prepared. Already knew everything about him. Including his favorite weapon that she'd disposed of first thing.

Dropping his gun over the side railings and reducing him to fighting with whatever daggers he had strapped down when she brought a fucking sword to this fight.

He realized he was even more unlucky once he found out this bounty hunter was here for him. He had a price on his head, of course he did, and Gamora was set on taking him in. And not letting him kill her in the process. She'd done her research too, it seemed.

She was annoyingly good in combat; Peter would've been impressed if it wasn't so damn frustrating.

In less than 10 minutes of them sparring round in circles (it could've been considered more if they'd done anything other than dance around each other clashing blades) this Gamora, last of the Zehoberi, managed to suss out that he had been hired to kill her for a very princely sum.

So that was interesting. He'd been hired to kill this prolific bounty hunter known simply as Gamora, the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. She'd been hired to to capture, detain, and bring in one Peter Quill, a notorious mercenary who also went by the name of Starlord.

Interesting.

It certainly was not lucky getting paired with someone as good as her. He honestly wasn't sure how this fight was gonna end.

Her eyes were calculating, and every move he made she seemed to predict and have a perfect strike in response to that had him dodging and countering and always on the defense.

How long had they been exchanging blows? From the way his muscles were starting to ache, he'd guess something like half an hour. From the sweat beading on her temple and running down the back of his neck, he'd say 45 minutes.

They were both starting to tire, he could tell as she grit her teeth and twisted her foot in the dirt after being forced back to her side of the makeshift arena, that was really just their trampled footsteps in the soot that lined every inch of Knowhere.

"You know, if I still had my blaster, this fight would be going much differently by now," Peter claimed with a smile and that cocky attitude he was always sporting, absolutely sure of it as he wiped his brow with his sleeve. His old leather ravager jacket was hot as hell, but no way was he taking it off and giving up what little protection the thick fabric gave him from sharp pointy things like her sword. She'd already sliced through it and drawn blood more than a couple times, and while it sure as hell stung, it was nothing too bad.

He'd maybe caught her skin a couple times with his daggers, but the damage was minimal at best. He only managed to nick her when she came in for a strike on him.

Most of the damage he'd landed on her came from his fists when she had tackled him and they spent a solid minute grappling before she'd wrestled his gun away from him and dropped it over the side.

Gamora sneered. "I'm sure you'd like to think that."

"No, really, I'm really good with it," Peter said, smiling like this really was a sparring match between two old friends and colleagues, not strangers trying to take each other out.

Gamora didn't look impressed.

"Your reliance on long range weapons is a weakness. I'll admit, you're a bit better with a blade than I thought you'd be," the bounty hunter frowned, her brows lowering in displeasure. "No matter. You'll go down just like the rest of them. They always do."

She leapt at him, burying a dagger that she just pulled out of fucking nowhere in his shoulder, and Peter cried out, ripping away from her and blindly slashing as more of a defensive maneuver than actually aiming for her at all, using his wild movements to cover his retreat back to the railings.

She jumped back, hissing in what he soon realized was pain when he saw the new gash on her thigh and the dark liquid spilling from the wound.

Peter looked down at his shoulder. Her knife was still in it.

"Holy crap dude! You stabbed me!" He shouted, not sure if he should focus on how he had a blade buried in his flesh right now or the woman who put it there. It sounded almost like an accusation coming from his mouth, like stabbing him was against the rules.

She raised her eyebrows in what was clearly an are you honestly surprised look if he had ever seen one.

"Yes," she stated calmly. "You gonna pull it out anytime soon? I'd like to have my blade back."

"No! No way!" Peter didn't know how she could say something like that so normally when he still had a frickin knife in his shoulder. God, that hurt. Still, it's not like he was gonna give her the common courtesy of returning her knife that was still in him because she stabbed him with it. "No!" He shouted, even louder this time. Shrieked was probably a better word to describe it, actually. "You stabbed me with it! You're not getting it back! It's mine now!"

"But it's my favorite one," Gamora said, clearly regretting burying her favorite dagger in some asshole that didn't return weapons used against him. She was standing in the circular opening that led back to the main platform that was otherwise known as his only exit, unless he wanted to take a free fall much the same way his gun had gone into the endless abyss. Check that one off the list.

"Come on, don't you have better things to do?" Peter tried, since negotiating was his specialty (other than the whole mercenary thing). It took everything he had in him to not pull the dagger out of his shoulder that hurt like hell. The instinct to cover his wound with his hand was near overwhelming, he knew that would help at least a little bit, but his right hand was kinda busy holding his favorite dagger, AKA his best defense right now against her bigass sword. His brain kept telling him that his shoulder would stop killing him if he pulled the knife out of it, but he knew his brain was stupid, and removing the knife was the quickest way to death via copious blood loss. No way was he giving her back the knife that was currently stopping him from bleeding out. He still had his second dagger in his left hand too, but he didn't know how useful that would be since he was pretty sure it would hurt like hell just trying to move his left arm right now. "I can't be the only bounty offered in this system. Hell, there's gotta be at least 15 other guys on Knowhere alone who have over 50,000 unit prices on their heads! They'll be much easier to take in than me, I promise. Why don't you go after one of them? How is this worth the trouble for you? Don't give me any nonsense about me being the real bad guy here or some morality shtick, I know the kind of work you used to do for Thanos. How can this job be worth it for you? If you think this is just the start of my annoyingness, watch out sister, cause I can become a whole lot more inconvenient than what you've seen. I can pay you twice as much as whatever the going rate on my head is these days. Staying in this fight with you isn't worth it for me anymore either. So let's just settle this like the business transaction it really is."

Gamora's jaw ticked and her eyes narrowed at the mention of the mad Titan's name. He was hoping that would throw her off. He'd done his research too, before accepting this particular commission. He knew she wasn't exactly the most willing of Thanos's soldiers back in the day. But he was sure this wasn't a morality crusade given her history, and he didn't see how it could be personal, so all that's left was monetary gain. Which was good, because those motivations were much harder to persuade from doing something other than killing/capturing him.

Gamora scoffed. "Nice try. I'm not trading you in for money," she sneered, spitting into the dirt. "You won't be bribing me off like any of the other officials and hunters who've let you get away before. You're merely collateral, Quill. In a trade. You have nothing to offer me that I want. And you're not talking your way out of this one."

"Come on, why not?!" He whined in the most childish manner she had ever seen an adult man emulate. He looked two seconds away from stamping his feet in the dirt and throwing a full blown temper tantrum."You didn't even think about it! You won't even let me try! Just tell me what you're getting, then you can have the satisfaction of shooting me down. Give me a fair chance to give you an offer!"

She knew he was just trying to buy time as they started circling around each other again. And it wasn't until they started back at their slow and wary dance of keeping their distance and watching each other that she realized just how deep his slash had gone in her leg. Her mods were designed to keep her alive in near death situations, but even the nanotechnology with rapid response and healing factors still needed time to repair her muscle that felt like it had been sliced clean through. With the amount of blood and placement, she was lucky his blade didn't nick her femoral artery. Buying herself a few minutes to let the nanobytes repair what they could would probably be best overall instead of pushing her damaged muscle fibers further by moving at anything faster than a walk right now. He didn't have to know how bad her leg was.

"Do you have a brother? A sister?" Gamora asked, even though she already knew the answer. Everyone knew that Starlord had no family, no friends, and no allies. He was alone. He only looked out for himself.

"No."

"Then I do not expect you to know how it feels to be faced with losing your family, Terran," she spat venom, and didn't notice how her words made his footsteps falter, his movements stutter.

"My sister faces execution for her crimes, but the Sovereign have offered a trade. I get her if I bring you to them. And I'm not leaving here without you, Starlord."

"The Sovereign? Oh man, I hate those guys!" Peter whined, and for a moment she was taken aback by his sudden shift in tone, how his voice was that of whining to a friend, not someone he's trying to kill who's trying to capture him for a bounty. It was a different voice than the one he had been using up till now. Before it was still clearly the voice of a practiced liar trying to talk his way out of something and negotiate for his life. Now she didn't know what it was… just different.

His tone was so casual and genuine compared to his previous words that it was distracting and disconcerting in a way that didn't make sense to her.

"They're such assholes!" Peter exclaimed, and even though she was inclined to agree, and that she wouldn't be doing business with them if Nebula had not been caught trying to steal those stupid batteries, she wasn't going to say that.

The, once again, very immature mercenary pursed his lips, then sighed. "You're really not leaving here without me, are you?"

"Not a chance," she confirmed easily.

"You know, if you hand me over to the sovereign, they're gonna execute me, right?"

"Not my problem. If you expect me to have sympathy for a mercenary such as yourself, Starlord, then you are mistaken."

He nodded, as if conceding her point. Peter held up his hands, still carrying both his blades. "Okay, I'm just gonna call a temporary truce and back up to this here balcony so we can talk without circling each other like a bunch of idiots," Peter claimed, taking the few steps back until he was against the outer balcony before he leaned up against it, relaxing in his stance. Gamora watched him warily- she didn't trust him farther than she could throw him. And while she knew they wouldn't come to a solution, she took a few steps back too, her leg quite thankful for the opportunity to rest.

"Alright, so fair point. But you hate the sovereign too, right? I saw your face twitch when I said that! You think they're assholes too!"

Gamora only scowled in response, immensely displeased that he had been able to read anything on her face. She supposed he was good at what he did, as much as she would hate to admit it. People reading. He had a whole list of tricks that she knew she would do poor to dismiss or write off just like that. There was a reason he was still around after all these years, why he'd never been captured, why he was the most well known mercenary in a business with an extremely high turnover rate, why he had a body count higher than most armies. She'd do good not to forget that. He was good at what he did. But so was she. She was better.

"My opinion regarding my current employer does not matter. Neither does yours," Gamora said, making sure her expression was nothing more than absolutely neutral.

"They give you a deadline?" Peter asked her, a spark of something just beyond his eyes that screamed trouble.

"Two weeks."

The smirk that spread across his face at that was so insufferable that she didn't know how he didn't make his way through life riddled with holes. Someone who smirked like that had to get stabbed all the time. It was probably a daily occurrence for him. She wanted to stab him again for it. If she had a blade to spare, she would've flung it at him right then and there. As it was, her only dagger was in his shoulder (she was still working on how she was gonna get that back) and she wasn't gonna let go of her sword anytime soon. Still.

She could practically see the gears turning in his head, and the way his smile widened gave her a feeling of malaise that even Thanos couldn't strike in her. His smirk only grew, and from the smugness inherent in it, he clearly thought he'd gained some ground on her.

"Okay, maybe you take me in in the end, maybe you don't," Peter nodded his head side to side, as if weighing the likelihood. She'd noticed he'd slipped back into his easy going negotiation voice. That subtle shift let her know she wasn't going to like the way this was heading. "You and I both know we can drag this fight on for days, and you don't have that kind of time if you wanna make it to Sovereign space before they kill your sister. You know how much they suck. On the way isn't good enough for them."

"Do you ever shut your mouth?"

"Nope," Peter grinned. "So how about we make an alternative arrangement?"

"I should just shoot you now for thinking I'm dumb enough to fall for you trying to talk yourself out of this so desperately right now."

"Ah, but you haven't even pulled out that nice little blaster on your hip, have you. Now why is that?" He asked in a lilting, sing song voice, tapping his finger on his chin. Gamora snarled, and if glares could kill, he would so be dead right now. "Could it be they want me brought in alive?" He continued, voice going higher, and eyes widening for effect. "And relatively undamaged?"

Gamora's trigger finger just itched to pull out her gun and shoot him in the face.

"Ah, got it in one," Peter smiled, so infuriatingly smug. She was certain it was on purpose. No one could be this much of an insufferable smartass without being completely deliberate. Peter sounded like he was already gloating, in the most infuriating way manageable. He tapped his nose, then pointed at her. "If there's two things I know about the Sovereign it's that they like their people pretty and their executions public."

He had clocked the gun she had strapped to her side pretty early on in the fight and tried to get ahold of it whenever they were close enough, but he'd never even gotten close to grabbing whatever blaster made the vaguely gun shaped outline at her hip. He kept wondering why she didn't pull it out. Dead or alive bounties were common in this business, and knowing who he was, he would've assumed that everything on his head stipulated that bringing in his dead body would've been fine. But this wasn't just anyone offering a bounty on him. This was the Sovereign. That changed everything. He'd pissed them off too many times to count, and they wanted to make a spectacle of him.

"There's a reason they hired a bounty hunter for this job, and it isn't for your fighting ability. Though for real, if you quit your job and got into mine, you'd make a killing in the mercenary business," he said, trying to pay her a compliment, but she didn't look amused. He went on, unperturbed. "That's besides the point. There's a reason they hired a bounty hunter instead of a mercenary, and it's not just because I'm the best mercenary in the galaxy. It's because they don't want me taken out, they want me taken in."

"And what are you proposing?" Gamora finally asked, if only to stop his incessant bragging, even though every bone in her body was telling her not to. Telling her no, no, no, it's a trap, don't engage, this is how he ensnared everybody else. Don't underestimate him.

"Simple. I go with you, of my own free will, we leave right now, and we'll make it to Sovereign space in 12 days or so. Then we break your sister out of their pretty little golden jail and we skedaddle, and no one dies. Your sister's saved and you don't actually turn me over in the end, and I don't face public execution. Good idea, right? How's about it?"

"No," Gamora said immediately, didn't even need to take the time to think about it. Peter's face fell in utter disappointment. "You're going to kill me the second I turn my back on you."

"Nuh-uh!" He argued, like a mature, reasonable adult.

"There's a reason they hired a mercenary and not a bounty hunter for this job," she parroted his words back at him in a vicious, mocking tone. "You think I don't know the work you do, Quill? I found you after all. I know you better than anyone who's ever come after you before. And I know anyone who thinks they can trust you is a fool. Sorry I won't be as easy to kill as all your other victims. Cause you're my bounty. And I know you, Peter. Preserving your own life isn't a good enough motivation for you, cause there's only one thing you care about. You don't make any money off of letting me live. Don't think you can bat your pretty eyelashes and have me convinced just like all the rest that you're as lucky and dumb as you want everyone to believe."

"You ever get tired of it? You ever want someone to notice how clever you are? How everything goes your way because you plan and practice, and it's never luck but skill, but you wouldn't get away with things nearly as easily as you do if you broke your charming goofy little rascal facade, would you?" Gamora taunted. "The unassuming dumb luck sort of guy works out much better for you than the unbearably clever Peter Quill who notices things and always seems to just barely escape in the nick of time. I know you, the real you. So no, I won't be taking your offer. I know you rely on people underestimating you, so let me assure you that won't be happening here. And you won't be talking your way out of this one. There's only one thing you care about, and you don't make enough money out of letting me live. I'm not stupid enough to believe your story for a moment."

She was more than pleased with how that seemed to wipe the smirk right off his face. He didn't have a comeback this time, and her inner competitiveness was feeling great about beating him in this verbal sparring match, even though their physical match was ongoing.

Peter hesitated to speak, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. His expression was so serious she'd begun to wonder if she had broke him. It was a complete change that overtook him. His shoulders slumped forward, body language closing in on himself as he stared at the ground in quiet thought. Rather than the calculating look he tried to hide before, this look was openly thoughtful.

"Okay, but your sister got caught trying to steal the Anulax batteries, right?" He asked, finally looking up at her. The surprise must have shown on her face, because he smiled, kindly, and answered the question that she hadn't yet asked. "They always leave them so unguarded. I swear it's just bait that they leave out all so they can get on their high horse every time someone tries to steal them. They've spent a hundred times more hiring people to defend those stupid things than they would if they had invested in some simple security for their prized batteries 10 years ago."

Gamora was even more furious at Nebula than she had been for falling for such a trap, but then again, all of her research into the Sovereign didn't even hint at what Peter was implying. For some reason, she didn't doubt him, though. Well, for one, he'd immediately known it was the Anulax batteries that her sister was captured trying to steal, when the Sovereign had many high value items that they publicized and would be much more logical targets. But she had a feeling there was a different reason that she didn't doubt Peter's claim right now. She just didn't know what it was.

"The batteries would be what- a quarter mill on the open market?" Peter looked up, doing the mental math in his head. "Considering how the only thing I care about it money, that'll be enough to recoup my losses on what I would've made upon completion of well, you. Besides, this was kinda fun," Peter waved his hand between them, smiling. He actually had a kinda nice smile when he wasn't being a dick about it. "I was thinking it would've been a shame to kill you 40 minutes ago. Now I am a little less sure of if I would come out on top in this fight. But we could drag this out until your motivation is moot. Sovereign space is a 12 day trip from here, minimum. Even if you managed to capture me and get me onboard your ship, I wouldn't go easily. It's in everybody's best interest for me to go with you willingly. So money plus the satisfaction of screwing over those golden D-bags sounds like fun. And I think you've proven not killing you will be much easier for me than killing you. I've already got a knife in the shoulder," he shrugged his uninjured one, trying not to move the one that still had her favorite knife in it. "The Sovereign are such assholes, and I'm a very petty man. They put a bounty on my head, how could I not want to get them back for that? The batteries are like a 4th of the commission I would've gotten from this job, but I can make up that difference easily in no time flat. My business is always in business. I think I would be sad not to get to see your scary face again anyway. So saving us the trouble seems like it's in both our best interests, yeah? You make it back to Sovereign space before your deadline's up, we rescue your sister and that'll really piss those assholes off, and adding insult to injury we grab the Anulax batteries on the way out the door. I don't get executed, and I don't get stabbed by you again. That sound like a good plan to you?" Peter offered, almost looking hopeful. Sincere.

Gamora knew she couldn't fall for it. How convincing he was right now was exactly what everyone else he'd ever screwed over thought.

Even though she was kinda impressed to find out that someone paid a million units to have her killed, and she was more than a little curious to find out who.

"Nope, not good enough," she refused, trying to ignore how the way his face fell made her want to frown even more. "Try and come up with a better story for you motivation. We both know that's not enough. This is getting pathetic. I thought you were better at making up things on your feet. Or maybe try giving me one, just one reason to believe you. You haven't given me any reason to trust you," she maintained with a scoff. She didn't want to let on that she was getting more uncertain of her decision to never trust him no matter the circumstance. He had a point, she didn't have time to waste.

She narrowed her eyes, looking over his shoulder at the backdrop of perpetual twilight behind him. The illusion of endless night and scores of stars that was Knowhere's only redeeming aspect just seemed to drive home the time limit. 12 days. She couldn't waste time on this suspended wasteland that didn't even have a star to orbit.

But she knew- she could tell that everything he listed wasn't the real reason behind his offer. She knew she couldn't trust him. When was he going to get it?

Peter was silent for a moment, looking down as he thought. He absentmindedly rubbed the heel of his palm on his pants as some sort of self soothing gesture, but any conflicting feelings he had were pushed to the side and replaced with certainty when he lifted his head again. His face now somber and serious as he looked her dead in the eye and said "You aren't the only one who's lost someone."

His eyes were heavy and clear and earnest.

Gamora knew it was the first honest thing he'd said to her all night. What he said earlier, about not wanting to kill her, about selling the batteries, every part of his negotiation, all of that may have been truthful, but it wasn't honest.

These were the first honest words he's said to her.

And damn it. She was really going to do this, wasn't she?

"We're taking my ship," Gamora snarled. "I don't trust you in yours."

Peter's eyes lit up like nothing she'd ever seen, and the resulting smile that spread across his face just made her feel confused, but not annoyed or angry. She tried to cover it by scowling though, and he quickly joined her by her side. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword at his sudden closeness. But he just waited for her to lead the way.

"Smort," Peter nodded, smiling again. One of his easy and eager smiles, eyes alight with humor and maybe even excitement. "That's probably for the best. Now which way to your ship?"

She felt more than a little uneasy about this agreement, but she'd already made her decision. She motioned for him to lead the way out of the alley, since she didn't trust him enough to turn her back to him. Peter didn't look surprised or even offended.

And, back on the streets of Knowhere, Peter fell into step next to her as they walked, his injured side closest to her, so he'd have to use his far arm if he were to pull anything. Somehow, she was certain that was on purpose. Joining her on her right side (her sword wielding side) and having his injured arm closest to her. It was a small, subtle thing to make him seem less threatening to her, and a minute display of trust. Standing on her dominant side, while she was still wielding her weapon, and her dagger still buried in his left shoulder as he walked next to her. It was a minor display of trust, of vulnerability, walking so close to her when she could easily use his injury against him and it would be too late for him to defend himself with his right arm. And she knew it was completely intentional. From the little knowing smile playing at his lips, he wasn't trying to hide it. He wanted her to know.

She had a feeling she was going to regret this, but she wasn't going to turn back now. Gamora was going to save her sister, and she was going to use him to do it.

Whatever it took. She wouldn't fail Nebula again. And she wasn't going to let a stupid jerkass mercenary get in her way, either.

And if their first interaction was anything to go on, it certainly wouldn't be easy spending 12 days on a ship with someone as annoying as him without throwing him out the airlock, but she could make it through. She always did.

Still. This was set to be a long 12 days.


AN:

*Peter three days later* "Wait, did she call me pretty?"

Anyways, this was written for an anonymous prompt submitted to me on tumblr. Technically the prompt didn't specify they be sent after each other, but I thought it was more fun this way. I'm planning on this being about a 4 chapter fic.