I shall continue to play with different POVs but will also return to Tommiah eventually. Also, refer to my author's note in ch1 if you get confused by the end of this chapter. Thanks for the enthusiastic reviews and support. And, the song requests too; you'll notice right away that I very much use them so keep them coming. This chapter contains elements of Billy Squier's "Everybody Wants You;" Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang;" "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls; Quiet Riot's "Cum on Feel the Noize;" Rod Stewart's "All Right Now;" more modern Brendan Maclean's "Stupid;" David Bowie's "Modern Love;" "Amageddon It" by Def Leppard; David Bowie's "Heroes." If you have some scenes or characters you'd like to see, feel free to shoot me a review or PM. Cheers!

Peter Quill, collectively known as the Great and Powerful Starlord (or just Starlord), former Ravager prisoner/ward, part-Terran, son of the now thankfully-departed planet Ego, and leader of the strangest group of assholes in the galaxy, frowned as he looked through the viewing scope for the umpteenth time that evening. "This was a bad idea."

He pulled the scope away and glanced at what teammates he had crouched next to him along the cliff edge across from the joint they were casing. They'd been there for what seemed hours, but he knew it had maybe been one, two at most, and he needed to take a piss. This getup of his, however useful in a fight and for getting the ladies engines running hot, was a damn nuisance when it came to bodily functions. Looking at the facial expressions of his teammates now, he could tell they were just as antsy for action as he was—and maybe they too wanted to take a leak.

Rocket was the only one who smirked, his scope still pressed against his eyes, "Every idea you have is a bad idea, Quill."

"I don't recall THIS being my idea." Peter drew back, looking over to Drax and Groot for confirmation. Neither offered visual reassurance.

"Oh really?" Rocket lowered his scope enough to give Peter one of his condescending glares. Peter hated those glares. They made him feel two years old, especially when Rocket was right—which he'd never admit to the mayhem-loving racoon, but that tended to be more often than naught. "Well as I recall, you said that given our contact's specialized tastes, that the girls would be better at getting the information we need from him."

Peter tipped his head to the side in surprise, "I said that?"

"Well you didn't sound as intelligent as I just did but yeah you said something along those lines. Which is amazing considering how small your brain is in proportion to the rest of your body." Rocket chuckled at his own insult before bringing the scope back up.

"Gee, thanks." Peter didn't look back through his scope yet. He instead looked over the edge of the precipice and shuddered. They were hundreds of feet above the acid ocean but even from this height he could hear the sizzle and crack of the surf as it pounded against the cliffs. Rock slides were often here and the only reason why the joint across the gulley was still standing was because of the special material used in reinforcing the cliff upon which it was built. Their cliff, however, could suffer an inopportune slide at any time. Which furthered Peter's desire to piss and move on with life. From the way Groot was growing and retracting limbs to draw pictures in the dirt as well as build little towers from the stony debris around them, Peter could tell the adolescent was growing bored. A bored Groot was a difficult Groot. Drax also seemed to be suffering from the wait. He'd sharpened all his weapons and had requested Rocket's and Peter's to sharpen as well. Once he finished that Peter knew they would need to find something else to entertain him with or suffer the consequences of an idle Drax. With a sigh, Peter brought the scope back up and began to restudy the interior of the building. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"The details of how to get the coordinates were very much left up to the girls and it seems to me that their improv skills are…" Peter heard Rocket's chuckle, "entertaining."

Peter had barely a chance to see what Rocket was laughing at when the scope was yanked away and Drax looked through it instead. He was faster at finding the source of Rocket's amusement than Peter had been and Peter watched as Drax sat up straighter and his grip on the scope tightened.

"Gamora appears to be in physical pain. Should we not assist her?" he asked, pulling the scope away just long enough to look at both Peter and Rocket in question. Peter had not a clue what Drax was talking about but he knew without looking that the likelihood of Gamora being in physical pain was little. The woman was more likely to inflict physical pain on others than to have any herself—though he knew she felt pain, she was just damned good at hiding it.

"She's not in physical pain, Drax," Rocket's voice was sarcastic when he replied, "she's in mental pain."

Drax lowered the scope again and blinked at Rocket, "Then should not Mantis assist her since she is close by?"

"Gamora would cut Mantis in half before she let her touch her." Rocket also lowered his scope to look more directly at Drax. "No, the mental pain Gamora is going through right now is more along the lines of restraining herself from annihilating the DJ." He chuckled again and went back to studying the scene Peter no longer had access to seeing. "I can hear that that is shit music even from over here."

"I am Groot." Peter looked over to the tree creature and watched as he flicked a twig finger at one of towers causing it to tumble down.

Rocket nodded, "You can say that again, little guy."

"I AM Groot." Groot's voice would sometimes crack now, whenever he tried to sound stronger or bigger than he was, and it didn't help that it did so now.

"Okay, okay, you're not so little anymore." Peter could hear the restraint on his humor in Rocket's voice. But the restraint didn't last long with Rocket's next comment. "But you're as sensitive as a teenager. Need to learn when to take a joke kid."

Groot smashed another tower, this time with his fist. "I am GROOT."

"I'll keep that in mind, don't you worry. I'll file it away with the other essential comments you all tend to make every day." Rocket was shaking his head and Peter hid his smile. Even though he knew he'd just been insulted by the fiend, Peter couldn't help but find the dig amusing.

He did want to see what was going on though, but wasn't about to rip the scope out of Drax's hands; that wouldn't end well. "Rocket, do you see the contact?"

"Nah, disappeared almost as soon as they went inside. Right now, I'm keeping my eyes on beef-head twinkle toes by Mantis. She's about to get an anatomy and physiology lesson if they don't get the coordinates and get out soon."

Drax lowered the scope and looked over to Rocket, his expression one of clear disagreement. "I do not think Mantis needs such a lesson and it is illogical for one such as that man to offer. I do not think he is qualified."

"I mean that buffoon is going to have his way with her if they don't get a move on."

"What way will do you think he will take her?" Drax returned his attention through the scope and appeared to be looking at the various exit options. "And how do you know his way?"

"Seriously? Quill," Rocket eyed him through his peripherals and indicated the monitor Peter had attached to his wrist, "have any of them relayed the coordinates to you yet?"

"Nope." He double checked the screen nonetheless and again shook his head. He then looked over to Drax, "And Drax, Rocket was saying that that man will attempt to mate with Mantis if they don't leave."

Drax tightened his grip on the scope and this time Peter did rescue it, afraid the warrior would break it otherwise. Drax shook his head and his frown was intense when he spoke, "I do not think Mantis would want to mate with that man." He nodded, as if he'd just had a discussion with himself internally, and began to stand. He looked like he had every intention of using the power pack on his back to jet over to the building, thereby jeopardizing their job. "She may need assistance."

"Whoah, whoah there Drax." Peter reached out and grabbed Drax's wrist, giving it a hearty tug but letting go almost immediately after. "We know that. But hold your horses there buddy, and let's wait just a few more minutes to see if they're successful or if all hell breaks loose." He held his arms out in a placating fashion, hoping his powers of persuasion were enough to satisfy the hulk.

Drax looked at Peter strangely before he said, "I have no horses to hold."

"I am Grooooot." Groot rolled his eyes and fell onto his back, dust splaying up around his heavy form.

"That's just his way, Groot, his people can't help but be literal." Rocket had begun to lean forward in his perch but still spoke to the rest of them. "And who are you to judge, to a casual observer you have a vocabulary of three words."

Groot kicked a tower, sending the rocks tumbling over the edge of the cliff. "I am Groot."

"I know they're very expressive three words but you get my meaning, right?" Rocket's fingers adjusted some of the settings on the scope. "I see the contact now!"

"Where?" Peter raised his own scope and resumed his study of the building.

"Uh…with our expendable. Upper right deck, near those ridiculous looking statues."

Peter moved his scope accordingly, readjusting until the screen was clear. "I see them." He trailed the viewing scope downwards and to the left and smirked at what he saw. "Gamora does too it seems, she's moving towards the stairs."

"And Mantis?" Drax's breath was hot and putrid as it fanned across Peter's face. Peter jerked to the side in his efforts to escape the proximity to the fighter and the smell. "Is the man still attempting to mate with her?"

Peter homed in on the location the man had been in just moments prior and sighed, "Er, um, no, he's asleep on the ground. I think she put him to sleep. His friends don't seem to be too happy about that either and they're circling in."

"Should we not assist Mantis now?" Drax was again standing, his hands on his hips as he stared down at them.

Groot also rose to his feet, now standing taller than all the rest of them but far skinnier than he'd been in his original form. He mimicked Drax's position by putting his hands on his hips and proclaiming, "I am Groot."

"No, you can't go play heroics just yet Groot. Until we get the coordinates, we need to wait here. If we go in there shooting the place up the girls are more likely to get caught in the crossfire and we'll lose the coordinates, our contact, and this job." Peter looked down at the monitor and frowned. The coordinates had better come in soon or else he'd be damned if he could keep either Drax or Groot from doing something incredibly stupid.

"Your logic is sound, Quill, but I will only wait a few minutes longer." Drax sat back down and crossed his arms over his chest. "No job is more important than family."

"I am Groot." Again the adolescent mimicked Drax as he too resumed his seat on the ground.

Rocket clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head, "Well ain't we just a bunch of sentimentals."

The room felt like a fucking sauna, the air was so thick—made that way from the mass of bodies dancing to some of the most sophomoric music she'd ever heard. The pressure of this particular planet, however, being much lower than she was used to, Tommiah couldn't imagine trying to dance more than the dying fish flop. She was fighting pressure induced fatigue and felt like a soaking wet walrus swimming through glue most of the time. And it wasn't a great feeling—the self-comparison to a large-flippered marine mammal—when she was surrounded by men. Predominantly hot men, and not just the temperature kind. There were all sorts: tall and lithe, short and hunky, dark and light, rough around the edges and undoubtedly soft but inwardly mean, with alien appendages and without—including penile extensions in some of the strangest place…she'd sadly nearly made a man cum merely by stepping on his foot repeatedly when she had been dragged out onto the dance floor.

All sorts of specimens were represented here and they were all there for a reason: to find a mate. Only the men weren't doing the choosing, the few women who were making their rounds through the throngs were the ones doing the choosing. Searching out the "perfect guy" on this planet was apparently made possible by these strange get togethers mandated by the governing body, and the birth rate on this planet was predictable—with hordes of people sharing not only the same month but the same day. It was efficient and effective, Tommiah would give that to them, but it was also damnably uncomfortable too. In her efforts to get to her intended target she'd had to extract herself from over a dozen would-be suitors. She'd never had much time for dating in her life on Earth, always more intentional about things to be flippant with romance. Romance was annoying, sex felt good, don't confuse the two. So part of her found this atmosphere a welcome change to what had been more prominent in the culture she'd grown up in, long-dead by now. But the other part, a part only recently awakened like Cthulu from the sea, found it to be a bit…rough.

"You know you see them coming at you every night, and it's always the same deal for me." The ice in his glass clicked against each other as he took another drink. "They're strung out on pretension and they fall for you at first sight. I know their business before they even bother opening their mouths and you know, it's such a bore. It makes me damned restless because when you keep seeing the same old pedantry, hearing the same old sycophantic litany you just, you feel like you gotta get out of town. Go on the run, or something like that. Know what I mean?"

At his sudden question, Tommiah jerked her head before it fell out from where it'd been braced in her hand. She really hadn't meant to fall asleep—or at least doze off—while the man of some race she didn't remember continued to spout nonsense at her side. She'd been told that this man's race was considered the most attractive out of all known races in the galaxies, being the healthiest, longest living, most virile, and other such most and best. That was all well and good, if you could get over the fact that, as was obvious with this particular specimen of his kind, they also happened to be the most pompous fuckers in the galaxy as well. She'd had to listen to at least half an hour of shit like: "Oh I'm so great and I can't help it," and "oh woe is me everyone loves me and it is soo exhausting," and "you know having the body of Adonis can be so frustrating when women orgasm at the sight of you," and etc.

Somehow, she managed to feign a look of empathy, despite the fact that she hadn't been listening to a blessed bit of his complaining, and patted his arm, "Yeah everyone lets you down eventually and you've got to work harder and harder each day to find something that is truly fun and not monotonous." She raised her own glass in his direction in a salute. "When everyone craves your attention and you feel you can never say 'no' you realize that you no longer have true affections and the person everyone loves is no longer your authentic self." After taking a larger gulp that was socially polite she set her glass back onto the bar. "It is just a copy of the original and with everyone watching and demanding and expecting, that copy gets copied and that copy gets copied until when you look at yourself through someone else's eyes you don't even recognize yourself anymore. The needs of others have bled you dry and you're left with confusion and the impossible dreams of your youth, made all the more impossible because you realize that you did this to yourself and it is no one's fault but your own for being that damn perfect and wanted." She had not a fucking clue what it was she was saying. She was merely restating in her own words the nonsensical mumbo-jumbo that he'd said earlier when she'd been a wee bit more alert and on task than she was now.

"Yes!" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer, near tipping her off her bar stool. "How can you possibly understand this so well being as ugly as you are?" The pressure on her shoulders increased and he leaned closer to whisper, "I don't think I should let you get away after tonight. You're too good at this."

Tommiah felt unease in the pit of her stomach at his sudden change in tone of voice but she tried to play it off with a snort, "What do you mean too good at this?"

"Oh, I mean your efforts to draw what you want out of me. To profit from me for the others." Tommiah was turned on her stool to face him directly before she could manage to gasp out her surprise. He scooted forward until his knees pressed against the outsides of her own and his hands felt heavy atop her shoulders. He smirked at her expression, "Bang, bang, I shot you down, now didn't I? You didn't even have a chance to lie before your facial expression confirmed my suspicions." Although the music continued to play and here and there Tommiah could hear some of the revelers singing along with the nonsensical lyrics, it all sounded awfully trite in comparison to the laugh now coming from the man's throat. "Seasons can change, and time can pass, but baby some things just stay the same. Didn't you hear a word I said earlier?"

"To be honest," Tommiah shrugged her shoulders, "not a bit. I was too distracted."

The man traced the back of his fingertips against her cheek, his mannerisms more akin to what an owner would to do a pet than anything sexual, "Distracted by what?"

"Your funny looking face." Tommiah gestured to his whole body then. "You flash your bedroom eyes like a jumpin' jack at everyone and then play it pretty with a pat on the back to the poor souls who think they have a chance with you. Yeah, you jangle your jewels while you're shakin' your sassy ass in front of all the other pretty boys in here, driving them outta their heads with jealousy over how you got it, and they can't get it. It's beyond annoying to tell you the truth."

Instead of looking offended or angry, which is what Tommiah had been hoping to illicit because then at least he wouldn't be as much in control of himself as he now was, the man's smirk deepened and he began to stroke his hand down the length of her hair, from the crown of her head to the tips. It was creepy as hell and yet also relaxing—she loved her hair played with.

"I am in no hurry to end this conversation." He squeezed his legs against hers, reminding her that though she may feel free to leave, he most likely had some sort of weapon or physical superiority that would render her dead or seriously maimed if she tried to leave or resist. "Now please don't wait for an invitation from me to continue your insults. Don't hesitate in making them either; don't lose your head and just keep your cool and keep going. You have my full and complete support. But make sure you insult me slow and don't talk too fast, so I can thoroughly enjoy your creative attempts to put me to shame."

Tommiah looked over his shoulder. She frowned. There was no sign of a diversion coming any time soon. As was usual, she was on her own.

"Do you hear that?" The man tipped his head to the side in an overly dramatic way. Tommiah raised a single eyebrow at his buffoonery. "I feel some stormy weather moving in. I heard the thunder just now. You can almost feel the noise in your bones when it really gets going. Did you know that storms on this planet are notorious for ripping the roofs off buildings and sucking poor souls out to their doom like Armageddon?"

"What," it was Tommiah turn to tip her head to the side, eyeing the man with increased focus, "do you know about Armageddon?"

The man feigned an offended look and placed a hand over his heart, "Now do you really think Earth is the only planet in the galaxy that has a story of the end of all things?" He reached out and patted the top of her head. "No, my dear child, all planets and cultures have myths of how the good are rewarded and the bad get it, well, bad."

"And what would you be?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know why I'm still talking to you. I should be trying to get away from you, especially now that you know my angle. But I get the feeling that that's part of your game. You're watching every move I make and you're aware of the movements others are making too. I'm not sure how you know when to go out or when to stay put but I can tell that you get things done quickly either way. That you have an evil and devious mind and the power to charm the panties off men and women in order to keep them from knowing that about you."

The man inclined his head to her, as if to agree. He continued his silent petting. The revelers continued their revelry. And Tommiah still wanted to kill the DJ.

"I'll tell you honey, maybe we can see things the same here. Don't you think that what you're doing right now, who you're working with right now, is an absolute waste? Baby, it's all right now. The girls here are rocking the boys. The government is getting what they want. Your puppet master has left you to deal with me on your own and you know things are about to get wild. But if you suddenly decide not to be so stupid, and you are pretty stupid to be doing what you're doing and with whom you're doing it with, I could get you anything you wanted. I've got everything you could possibly want. You can't tell me you've had better offers…" He'd begun to twirl her hair around a few of his fingers.

Smiling from her head to her feet in an overly dramatic fan-girl fashion, Tommiah grasped the man's forearms and pulled herself towards him, "Now you're just trying to trick me into loving your perspective on things. To get me to fall into line with you. I'm not interested." She let go of his arms and sat back again. "So, let's stop pretending that there's going to be some happy ending here and let's not try to be friends either. If you weren't so ugly inside, maybe I could've been convinced to consider your offer."

"So petty!" He withdrew his hands and laughed. "Now what does that say about you then, hm? You see the necessity for profit, otherwise you wouldn't be here now. But you also don't like to play the game." He kept his hips and shoulders facing her but turned his head slightly to see where his until-then forgotten drink was. He finished it off before continuing. "I can't tell you how exciting it is for me to meet someone like you."

"Really? I assure you, more people probably think you're a prick, so I'm nothing special."

His smile grew bigger, "Oh but you are. And the most delightful thing is, you don't even know it. It's almost like there's no sign of life, true life peeking out of you. You certainly 'got it' but you don't get that you got, do you? Tell me, why do you fight your inner awesome factor?"

"Eh? I don't realize I'm doing it I guess." Tommiah also grabbed her glass and drank the last of its contents. Her head was beginning to hurt from talking in circles with the megalomaniac in front of her. "I guess I don't want to overwhelm everyone with how fuckin' awesome I am the way you do, cunt sucker that you are."

"My my, but you like four-letter words, don't you?"

"They're a quick and efficient way to describe how I feel." Tommiah drummed her fingers on top of the bar. "Are we ever going to wave bye-bye to this moment in time? I mean we've been talking in circles for much too long and my head is killing me and its hot as hades in here and if there is a storm coming I'd rather not be in such a crowded place."

Suddenly the man stood, "The best is yet to come, doll face."

Tommiah opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a spurt of energy shooting directly out of the man's fingers. She grabbed at her chest but then stopped when she realized the energy stream, was moving over her shoulder to someone behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Gamora caught in the energy blast, her body convulsing painfully. The attack lasted only a moment but it was enough to knock the fighter unconscious, clear the bar area of spectators, and leave Tommiah and Mr. Fancy-fingers relatively alone on the balcony.

"Sorry. I've got itchy fingers sometimes. But then you already knew that about me." He held out his hand towards her and since she had nothing better to do, knew she had nowhere else to go, Tommiah humored him by placing her hand in his. "Come and take it from me, doll face, these people are subpar in comparison to what I can do for you."

"Let me guess," Tommiah further allowed him to pull her to her feet and stood chest-to-chest with him, "You'll be my king and I'll be your queen and together we'll beat everyone and nothing will be able to drive us away. Like a bunch of fucktarded heroes." She looked back over her shoulder to Gamora, feeling relief when the green goddess killer moaned. "Or better yet, villains."

"Well of course the line between what makes a hero and what makes a villain is made up of time and place." The man pushed her to the side ever so slightly before he extended a hand behind him, catching Mantis on the wrist, and jerking her in front of him. Instead of the man going down under Mantis's powers, the naïve alien gasped and fell back against Tommiah. She had to grab hold of the woman to keep her from cracking her head against the bar. As she slowly lowered her would-be work associate to the ground she looked up at the man through her eyelashes, "You must think me very mean for doing that."

"Gamora, I can understand. But Mantis? She's so cute." Tommiah extracted her arms from the woman and stood up again. "That was a low blow even for a jerk like you."

His laugh grated on her nerves, "It seems I'm going to have do many more low blows to get you to wake up."

"The hell you talking about?"

The glass overhead shattered and they both looked up to see Drax, Rocket, Quill, and Groot come flying into the room, their guns all trained on the man opposite her. Tommiah ducked down and crouched over the still unconscious Mantis, pulling her hands above her head when glass and various other bits of debris began to rain down on her from the rapid gun shots the Guardians fired overhead. When she looked up through her fingers, however, she was stunned to see the man hadn't moved—even though he'd obviously been shot multiple times—and instead of looking like he was in pain he had a manic grin on his face and was still laughing. That did not bode well for any of them.

"You think you can be the heroes of the hour and rescue your fair maidens?" He asked once the firing stopped and the Guardians were standing on the balcony across from them.

Rocket pulled out a bigger gun, "I'm done with rescues. Now I just want to kill your sorry ass."

"If you fire that particular weapon in here you're more likely to damage yourselves, perhaps kill some of your teammates, than harm me. You've already witnessed the fact that your smaller caliber weapons have no effect on me whatsoever," the man gave a sashaying twirl for them all to prove his point, "it would be a waste of time and ammunition to attempt to solve this with violence."

Quill tried to say something but his mask muffled his voice. Everyone look at him in confusion. His growl of frustration was clear before he clicked the side his head and his mask retracted, "I said, 'what do you want asshole?'"

"Nothing I couldn't already take. However, that's not nearly as much fun as this."

"Your definition of fun is much like my own, strange fingered man." Drax seemed to be grudgingly in accord with the man.

"I am Groot." The tree thing began to grow his arms as if to wrap around the man but with a few fancy finger-energy swipes the limbs Groot had grown were severed and the creature looked petulant.

"This is pointless." Rocket put the bigger gun on his shoulder and took aim. "Just say the word, Quill, and he's history."

"Wait!" Tommiah finally stood. "I think he wasn't bluffing earlier when he said if you fire that thing in here Mantis and I will get fried and even y'all might get knocked up a bit."

Rocket looked around his scope at her, "Then move out of the way."

"What d'you say I tell you what I want and we forego any more of this. For as much fun as its been, I'd much rather move on to another bit of fun than repeat more of the same ol' same ol."

Gamora let out a yell then, brandishing her weapons as she hurtled herself through the air towards the man. Again the man was unfazed, shooting an energy ball into Gamora's stomach that had the woman knocked clear across the room, smashing into the opposite wall, and falling to the first floor in a thundering crash. Since he hadn't killed any of them yet, Tommiah didn't think Gamora was dead. But she would be hella angry when she woke up again.

"Fine." Quill put his hand on Rocket's weapon to stay him. "What do you want?"

"Her." The man pointed to Tommiah.

Like an idiot she pointed to herself and mumbled, "Me?"

"Well that's settled." Rocket put the gun away. "You can have her. No skin off our teeth. Let's go." He clapped his hands. "Groot, go get Gamora. Drax," the pink-skinned fighter was already hulking his way to pick up Mantis.

"Excuse me a minute here." Tommiah held up her hand and everyone stopped moving. "Do I not get a say in this?"

Quill looked apologetic as he spoke, "The truth is, you're nothing to us but a middleman. You're just on loan-out from Stakar so if anyone should be rescuing you it should be him."

"We'd be lying if we said we wanted you stay with us." Rocket smirked at her. "But the truth is we're safer without you at this point. And who knows, maybe Stakar will track you down and mount a rescue mission." Rocket began to giggle, amused with the idea because that was a distinct impossibility.

Stakar had "loaned" her out to the Guardians only because Peter had beat him in a card game and they'd wanted one of Stakar's female crew members to help them on this job—a supposedly easy intel job that would turn a good profit and they'd promised a small share for her work. Since she'd been the most recent acquisition, not handed over to the Collector for still unknown reasons, it'd been decided that she needed to prove her Ravager mettle—not something she personally felt inclined to do but whatevs—and was also the most expendable considering she was the most recent crew member. It'd been understood that if the Guardians didn't return with her but with the faction of the share they'd promised Stakar, there'd be no retribution. But if they did return with her and no share or returned without her and no share, there would be consequences.

"So it's settled then?" The man rubbed his hands together in delight. "I get this one, and you all leave."

"Hold up a minute." Quill held up his hand and for a brief second Tommiah thought he was having second thoughts about abandoning her. "Can we at least get the coordinates for the cache? Because it seems to me that you don't really need it and since you're getting her without a fuss, it would be a fair trade."

"Some heroes you are." Tommiah shook her head and leaned against the bar behind her. "It's a crying shame I never got a chance to show you all just how much I enjoyed being a part of your team, albeit briefly."

The man reached out and patted her shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry my dear, you'll be able to. My intention is not to kill you but-" He looked to see that Quill and Rocket hadn't moved, and Drax was still crouched next to Mantis. "I believe our conversation would be best heard just by us." He moved towards Quill, holding out his hand. "If you'd give me your monitor there, I'll give you the coordinates."

Rocket looked to Quill and after a moment Quill shrugged and unstrapped the monitor. As he handed it over, Groot climbed back up the balcony, a still unconscious Gamora clutched in his limbs. Drax also stood up and moved to stand with his friends. The man finished punching in the codes and tossed the monitor back. He rubbed his hands together and looked around at the mostly ruined building. The revelers had long since fled; even the DJ had abandoned his post—either that or one of the Guardians had put him out of his misery.

"I believe that concludes our business?"

Quill looked at the monitor then back to Tommiah. She could see only a sliver of guilt twirl its way through his gaze but he nodded to the gleeful man at her side. "Yup. That about does it." The other Guardians began to fly away through the ruined ceiling but Quill hesitated, "Take care of yourself."

Tommiah grunted at his retreating back and waited until she was thoroughly alone with the creeper before she spoke again, "So, I don't even know your name."

"It is quite an easy name," the man turned to her and she felt confused and a bit alarmed when his body morphed before her eyes into a completely different visage, "I don't need anything fancy to convey my magnanimous nature."

"But you do need a warning for your perfidious retardedness."

He laughed again and snapped his fingers. Abruptly they were no longer in the ruined building. Tommiah felt her stomach roll at the sudden pressure change and weightlessness of floating in space. And they were in space. Without any helmets or space suits. Tommiah immediately tried to hold her breath but stopped halfway, realizing belatedly that she could breathe in normally. The man laughed again, not floating around like a swimming space snake as she was, but instead sitting with his legs crossed if lazing in an arm chair. In fact, he snapped his fingers and an armchair did appear beneath him. Tommiah could only blink at him.

"You're so much more fun than your aunt. And she was, is, quite the lady."

Tommiah shifted her body around until she was hovering a bit more in control and could at least look at him directly, "My aunt? Who the hell are you?"

"Your cousin will be excited to meet you too. He's been a bit stressed lately so I think you're the perfect present to help with that."

"Cousin?" Tommiah swam her way over to the man and gripped the armrests, pulling her face close to his. "Stop speaking in vague riddles and answer the damn question. Who ARE you?"

The man's lips turned upward in a sadistic smile, "Why I thought the answer was apparent: I am Q."