Still stuck on filler chapters-I hate these things. At any rate, sorry updating's been so slow-I've got more fic ideas than I can handle right now :P
Also, in address to what's been going on in the comments-first off, thank you all for taking the time to comment, it means a lot. In address to Guest, your feedback has been very helpful, there are a lot of good points I need to work on brought up in your comments, and I'm very honored that you've found my fanfic worthy of commenting on-I say that seriously. I do find value in other people's comments, though, even if it is simply encouraging me to stop being lazy and write more.
My primary purpose of writing here is to entertain while improving my writing-so thank you for your comments, I find value in all of them.
I started this story, so I'm going to finish it-what I try after is a different story.
Enjoy!
"You drool when you sleep."
"Whu-heh-huh?" Peter muttered drowsily, opening his eyes blearily as he struggled to raise his head from the warmth of his pillow.
"G'mora? Wuzzgoinon?"
"You." She said, sitting gracefully on the edge of his bed. "Drool. When you sleep."
"Wha-no I don't-" Peter reached up to the corner of his mouth and was immediately horrified to find that Gamora was correct. "Ugghhhh," he groaned, burying his face back in his pillow. "I can't be perfect all the time, geez."
Gamora laughed softly. "I believe most of the inhabitants of the galaxy are aware of that fact."
"Ouch," he muttered, turning his face slightly so she could see his half-feigned wounded expression. "Why are you even in here? It's gotta be, like, five am in the morning-"
"Four forty-five, to be exact," she said, a slight smirk at the corners of her mouth.
"You're kidding me," Peter said, staring at her flatly. He burrowed violently under the blankets. "Why am I awakeeeeeee," he moaned pathetically, his voice muffled.
"Because in exactly two hours we will be arriving at Knowhere. And you owe me breakfast," Gamora said, a slight vengefulness in her voice.
"But-but-" Peter stuttered, the top of his head peeking out from underneath the blanket, his hair in wild disarray. "It's four in the morning."
"Four forty-five," Gamora corrected. "Stop gaping about it-it is not that early."
"Not that early-are you even human?!" Peter asked incredulously. Gamora gave him a flat look. "Right-bad choice of words," he corrected hurriedly. "But seriously!"
"We have two hours until we reach Knowhere, and therefore two more hours of peace before the Collector sends us all running crazy," Gamora snapped. "And I wish to spend them with you. Primarily your chocolate-chip waffles. But also you."
Peter's irritated expression softened. "Well, when you put it that way…ugh," he sighed, shoving his face back into his pillow. He immediately raised it, rocking himself into a sitting position as he rubbed at his eyes.
"Fine," he said, giving her a tired but sincere grin. "Let's go make waffles."
"Y'know, normally these things fall into the 'unhealthy' category," Peter said to Gamora as he measured out the flour he'd bought at a trading outpost weeks earlier. "Which kinda seems to go against your super-healthy diet thing, given the amount of these things we make." He cut her a smirk. "Kinda makes it hypocritical when you lecture me for eating junk."
"That is because all you ever eat is junk," Gamora shot back from her perch on the Milano's kitchen unit counter, eyes fixed on Peter as he worked. "And chocolate-chip waffles do not fall into the category of junk. They have their own special category of superior goodness."
"Well, you aren't wrong," Peter said with a grin as he added milk to the bowl. "Though at the rate we're going through these things, we're gonna have to hit another outpost soon, pick up some Terran goods."
"I shall put it at the top of our list," Gamora murmured, watching Peter as he cracked an egg, teeth biting over his lip in concentration as he gently shattered it, her eyes lingering on the crease of his brow and the rebellious locks of hair that fell into his face.
"Yeah, waffles always take priority-what?" he asked as he caught her staring, his hand half-raised to throw away the egg shells.
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "I just-thank you." Peter frowned, tossing away the shells and crossing over to her.
"For what?" he asked, their eyes nearly level as he leaned up against the counter she was sitting on.
"For making me chocolate-chip waffles, of course," she said, glancing down with a smile. "I imagine it damages your reputation."
"Psh, reputation," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "All that's done is get me shot at, anyways. Besides," he said, smiling flirtatiously at her. "I'd happily ruin my reputation anytime for you."
"How sweet," Gamora replied, half-mockingly.
"I am that, sometimes," he grinned, kissing her lightly. "Now c'mon," he said, reaching for her hand to pull her down. "You're gonna help me cook these things."
"I believe the proper term is bake-oh, ew, what is that on your hands?" she said with disgust, yanking her hand away from Peter's.
"Uh, that'd be the egg," Peter laughed. "I'm not the best at cracking those."
"You covered my hand in egg guts," she said flatly, glaring at him.
"Egg guts-for star's sake, it's not the corpse of some enemy," Peter said exasperatedly. "It's food."
"That makes it no less disgusting," Gamora said, wrinkling her nose as she wiped the gooey substance off.
"Oh please," Peter said, fiddling with the waffle-maker. "How is that worse than your hands being covered in, like, blood or something?"
"I do not know what you are talking about," Gamora said. "Now make those waffles."
"Fine, fine, you're impatient," Peter muttered, tearing open the bag of chocolate chips. "Chocolate?" he said, offering her one of the tiny chocolate pieces.
"Thank you," she said happily as she popped the chocolate in her mouth, savoring the sweetness. Peter grinned at her, then tossed a handful in his own mouth.
"Peter!" she laughed, half-exasperated. "Don't! There will be less in the waffles."
"Mmh-mmh," Peter grinned at her, shaking his head as he swallowed the chocolate. "Plenty to go around."
Gamora just shook her head as Peter finished mixing the chocolate chips in, carefully pouring a measured amount of the mix into the waffle maker. He snapped the top down and glanced at his watch.
"Give 'em a minute or two," he said, hopping up next to her on the counter. The warm aroma of the chocolate and waffle wafted through the kitchen space. They sat there in comfortable silence, Gamora leaning slightly against Peter's side as they watched the waffle maker. It was markedly peaceful, and Gamora felt a deep sense of contentment run through her as she took in the smell of the waffles, Peter's warmth against her side, and the quiet hum of the ship.
The waffle maker ended the moment with a small ping, and as good as the waffles looked, Gamora felt a stab of annoyance towards the machine for interrupting the moment.
"Perfect, as usual," Peter said, delicately peeling the waffle out of the mold and placing it on a plate. He handed her it with a flourish. "One chocolate chip waffle, m'lady."
"Mmm," any sarcastic replies Gamora may have had died as she bit into the waffle. "Fanks," she said through a mouthful. "You make the best food."
"Just waffles," Peter laughed, resetting the waffle maker. "My other cooking skills are kinda lacking." He glanced at the mixing bowl. "I think I can get one more outta this, than I better ditch the evidence before the others-"
"Oh good, Quill's makin' waffles," Rocket's half-awake remark came from the doorway.
"How generous of you," Drax said with a grin as Peter groaned, the rest of the team filing into the kitchen.
"No," he said firmly. "There's no way I'm cooking for all you guys. No way."
"These waffles you insist on putting chocolate in are most enjoyable," Drax commented, mouthful of waffles.
"Yeah, gotta be honest, Quill, these are the only reason I'm willin' to let you be leader."
"Glad to know the only reason you keep me around is for my cooking," Peter muttered, licking a speck of chocolate off his fingers, his supply of Terran ingredients quite sadly diminished.
"Among other reasons," Gamora said, smiling slightly. Peter returned the smile, winking at her, and Rocket mimed vomiting.
"Cut the sap, some of us are trying to eat here."
"If their affections trouble your stomach so, I will be happy to finish your waffles for you," Drax said, eyeing the half-eaten waffle on Rocket's plate. Rocket grabbed at it protectively.
"No, you don't touch my waffle, you over-eatin' bottomless pit-watch, I'm eatin' them now-" Rocket proceeded to stuff the remaining waffle in his mouth.
"I am Groot!" Groot said concernedly, watching Rocket attempt to cram the food into his mouth.
"Fut up," Rocket said, cheeks bulging.
"For star's sake, Rocket, do not do that," Gamora huffed at him.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, man-"
Peter's admonition was cut off as a screeching wail echoed through the Milano, followed by a harsh jolt that sent the five sprawling.
"What the fu-"
"Under attack!" Gamora burst out, enemy fire the first thing to jump to her mind. Peter and Drax's eyes went wide, the two jumping up to sprint to the cockpit. Gamora grabbed the half-choking Rocket, taking a second to hiss "That's what you get," and sprinted after them, followed by Groot.
She skipped the bottom three steps and flung herself up the ladder, Rocket wriggling free of her grasp and running to aid Peter with the controls as she threw herself into the nearest seat.
"What is it?" she asked breathlessly as she scanned the skies for attackers.
"I do not see any enemy ships," Drax said, puzzled.
"Well, the good news is we've reached Knowhere," Peter grit out, gripping the controls with white knuckles. "On the other hand, I think there might be something wrong with our shi-"
His explanation morphed into a shriek as the Milano abruptly dropped, along with the stomachs of the five passengers.
"Quill! What the hell?!"
"Ah-sorry-not my fault!" Peter yelled as he wrestled with the controls of the Milano, the ship bucking and dipping wildly. "C'mon, baby-what the heck! I just checked the engine on this thing why are we-shit-what's wrong with her?!"
"Must've been Kallu's fricked-up weather," Rocket muttered, frantically aiding Peter with the controls. "Probably damaged the-gah!-back jets and engine."
"No way!" Peter protested. "My ship doesn't get brought down by snow-"
"Peter watch it!" Gamora shrieked as they narrowly missed ramming into one of Knowhere's higher reaching buildings.
"Damnit," Peter muttered. "We need somewhere to land now-"
"There!" Rocket yelled, pointing at the narrow landing strip on an abandoned section on the planet. "Put us down there!"
"Okay, okay," Peter assured frantically as he maneuvered the jerking ship down. "We got this, my baby's got this, c'mon, c'mon-" There was a hideous grinding as the engine stalled completely and the Milano began to free fall.
"Oh shit shit shit no-"
"Agggghhhhh!" Rocket shrieked as they plummeted towards the earth.
"PETER!" Gamora screamed at him. The ground came rushing up to meet them as they picked up speed.
"Shit-c'mon, c'mon-got it!" There was a powerful jerk as the five were thrown violently against their seatbelts, the Milano's engines powering up at the last second, the ship hovering mere yards from the ground.
"Whew," Peter gasped, head thunking against his seat as he gently landed the ship on the ground. "That was close."
"Haha," Rocket said faintly as he leaned back limply in his seat, the rest of the Guardians staring forward with wide eyes. A burst of crackling erupted from the engine and they all jumped.
"Aw, no, no, no!" Peter cried, unbuckling his seatbelt as he headed to the engine room. "Don't do this to me!"
"Damn," Rocket muttered, unbuckling his own belt and hopping down. "That sounded like our power core just fried."
"Meaning?" Gamora queried as she and the others moved gingerly from their seats.
"Meaning the Milano ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon," Rocket said downheartedly as Peter's heartbroken cry of "No!" echoed through the ship.
"I believe that confirms it," Drax remarked. Gamora massaged her temples.
"Wonderful," she muttered.
"I am Groot," Groot said sadly. Rocket groaned and slid down the ladder, joining Peter in the engine room.
"Yup!" he called to the other three, voice echoing through the ship. "We're earth-bound." Peter gave another moan of despair. "Eh, shouldn't be that hard to fix. Maybe a week or two." Peter moaned even louder, their voices drawing nearer as the two clambered back to the cockpit. "Would you shut up? It ain't that bad! You shoulda checked it after we left Kallu! We're lucky we not a flaming wreck right now!"
"I didn't think snow would wreck it!" Peter yelped indignantly as he climbed back up the ladder. "It was just snow!"
"Yeah, snow and wind and a whole lotta ice freezing and re-freezing. That's what we get for leaving it there overnight."
"Dangit," Peter moaned, throwing himself face-first into one of the pilot's seats.
"I am Groot," Groot said comfortingly as he patted him on the back.
"It is what it is, I suppose," Gamora sighed. "We will have to rent a ship or be stranded here for a week."
"A most unpleasant place to be stranded at," Drax muttered. Rocket hit the door controls, kicking Peter in the leg as he headed out.
"C'mon, baby. Let's see what this guy wants."
The meeting place the Collector chose was, much to the Guardian's relief, considerably less ostentatious and threatening than the last. The simple but lavish room in the higher levels of Knowhere's residential complexes suggested that while his collection may be in ruins, the Collector's money did not suffer a similar fate. Which was good, because this entire thing would be worth nothing if it had.
"A pleasure to see you again...Guardians," the Collector addresses them, gesturing for them to sit at the conference table.
"Doubtful," Rocket muttered. The Collector's lip curled.
"I admit, our last encounter ended less than desirably. Hopefully, this one will not end the same."
"Yeah, yeah, okay, enough with the pleasantries," Peter burst out, earning a look from Gamora. He ignored it, plowing on. "What exactly do you want from us?"
"Your services," the Collector said, intertwining his fingers. "In retrieving an item of certain value."
"How original," Gamora clipped venomously.
"This isn't gonna be a repeat of last time, is it?" Peter asked sardonically.
"Last time, you already had the object in your possession, and my fool of an assistant...complicated things," the Collector said darkly. "Have you heard of the Aether?"
"The huh?" Peter asked confusedly, the rest of the team looking equally bemused-save Gamora.
"The weapon of the Dark Elves," she said, troubled. "An immensely powerful substance, capable of plunging the universe into darkness. Last I heard, the Asgardians had taken care of it."
"Correct," the Collector said, nodding at her. "For the most part. I was entrusted with the Aether." Gamora's jaw dropped slightly.
"No," she denied. "You cannot be serious-"
"Unfortunately, Lady Gamora, I am fully serious," the Collector sighed.
"Wait-you mean you lost a super-powerful weapon entrusted to you by Asgard?" Peter asked incredulously.
"Stolen," the Collector muttered. "It was stolen."
"Man, you are a hundred kinds of dead," Peter said as Rocket whistled.
"You'd think you'd get some proper security with somethin' that important lyin' around," he scoffed.
"It had proper security. I merely failed to plan for the explosion of an Infinity Stone," the Collector hissed. "That, and whoever stole it possessed technology more advanced than I've seen in a while," he mused, sounding begrudgingly admiring.
"Do you know who stole it?" Peter asked, frowning.
"As of now, no," the Collector said. "But I have my suspicions. None of them of a good nature."
"Great," Peter said, leaning back in his chair. "So you want us to track down some random thief with advanced tech who's stolen some super-powerful weapon they may or may not be able to use-wait, can they use it?"
"Doubtful," the Collector replied. "Much like the orb, it takes a certain amount of…power, to wield it. I suspect whoever stole it has little knowledge of its true value."
" 'Much like the orb' " Gamora repeated flatly. "How much, exactly, like the orb?"
"I do not seek to hide the truth from you, Lady Gamora," the Collector cut. He took a breath. "The Aether is, as I do not doubt you have guessed, an Infinity Stone." Gamora nodded, suspicions confirmed as she glared at him.
"What," Peter and Rocket chorused, both staring at him in disbelief. Drax looked disinterested.
"Or one of you has guessed, at any rate," the Collector muttered.
"You're joking," Peter said. "Please, tell me you're joking." The Collector merely raised an eyebrow.
"Oh stars," Peter muttered, running his hands over his face. "Oh, stars."
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Rocket growled. "After what went down with the first one, you honestly think we're just gonna go throw our lives away for another one a' those death rocks?"
"If the pay is substantial, I had hoped you would care enough for the consequences that would result if another finds it first," the Collector said calmly. "Thanos, to name one."
"Wha-no!" Rocket sputtered.
"Yes," Gamora said firmly, ignoring the rest of the team's disbelieving stares. "We do care. Which is why you knew we would accept."
"Wait-accept?" Rocket gaped at her. "Did you get amnesia or somethin'? Forget the way our skin literally got peeled off-"
"That was a most unpleasant experience," Drax muttered.
"-how Xandar was nearly fricking obliterated-"
"Of course I remember!" Gamora shot back. "That is exactly why we are going to accept! If Thanos gets his hands on it before us, there will be no safe place in any galaxy!"
"Then get Nova Corps on it!" Rocket barked. "It's kinda a galaxy-wide problem there! Get a damn expert on the stones!"
"I believe the best qualified people currently available to handle an Infinity Stone are in this room," the Collector quipped. "You are, as you would say, the only accessible 'experts' at successfully containing a stone."
"Don't go getting' smart, you underhanded-"
"He's right," Peter cut in, speaking for the first time since the argument had began. Eyes turned to him. "As much as it sucks, if anyone's got a chance of containing an Infinity Stone, it's us. Unless you can call the Asgardians?" he gave the Collector a questioning look.
"Ah," the Collector looked uncomfortable. "It would be preferable not to involve them, for…varied reasons." He shifted. "At any rate, contacting them would take far too long, as well as drawing a good deal of unwanted attention."
"Damn," Peter muttered. He rubbed at his face again. "I guess we don't have much of a choice then."
"The hell?!" Rocket turned on him. "Quill, the risk-"
"This is not the first time," Peter said firmly. "This is different. No one will need to sacrifice themselves." He turned to Groot, sincere. "Promise." Groot hummed contentedly, laying a comforting hand on Rocket. The raccoon merely growled, looking put out.
"Then we have a deal?" The Collector queried. Gamora and Peter exchanged a glance. Peter huffed out a breath.
"Yeah," he said. "We're in."
"Good," the Collector smiled. "My assistant will tell you what you need to know." He beckoned to a young boy, and the Guardians stood.
"Oh, and Mr. Quill," the Collector addressed Peter as he turned to leave.
"It's Star-lord," he corrected with a sigh. "And what?"
"You'll want to keep an eye out. I believe there is a...considerable bounty resting on you."
"Oh," Peter said, looking away. "Yeah. Was wondering when Yondu'd put that up."
"Take care," the Collector said. "If this mission does not succeed, I may be tempted to take him up on that bounty myself."
"You wish, Rocket snorted. "If anyone's takin' him up on that bounty, it's us."
"Come on," Gamora sighed exasperatedly as she dragged them out of the room.
"We think the Aether was stolen by someone from the Shi'ar Galaxy," the Collector's assistant, Jorin, informed the five Guardians as they picked their way carefully through the wreckage of the Collector's former gallery.
"What makes you say that?" Peter asked, spinning slightly as he just missed smashing his head into low-hanging debris.
"Well, the explosion destroyed a lot of stuff," Jorin said. "But the safe he had the Aether in wasn't completely destroyed. It was a pretty complex safe," he muttered.
"I can imagine," Gamora said, scanning the upper levels with a frown.
"Gam? Anything wrong?" Peter asked.
"No, I just-" she frowned again. "Thought I saw something. It was the light, though-continue."
"Anyways, whatever the thief used to break into it looks a lot like Shi'ar tech," Jorin continued as he stopped in front of what used to be a smooth security panel, now smashed and fried to bits, revealing an empty stand inside.
"Let's see," Rocket said, scurrying forward to examine the wreckage. His paws ran carefully over the seared edges, inspecting. "Yup," he said after a minute, straightening. "That's Shi'ar tech. They've got real unique welders there. Useful as hell, but dead giveaways. Whoever filched this was a moron." He shook his head.
"Shi'ar galaxy," Peter mused. "That's relatively far. Last I heard, they weren't known for thievery-just not particularly friendly."
"Well, you got the Shi'ar people themselves," Rocket said. "They ain't too concerning-just obsessively non-artistic. Actually, they can be kinda brutal, come to think of it." Rocket muttered.
"And the Spartoi," Gamora added.
"I remember them," Drax mused. "They have most useful weaponry."
"Wait-who the heck are the Spartoi?" Peter asked, staring at them.
"The Spartax Empire, Peter," Gamora sighed. "They are not that unknown."
"Useful weaponry, clash with the Badoon, look kinda human," Rocket said. "Haven't been that active lately."
"Whatever," Peter said. "Just another problem to worry about. Anything that'll actually help us find the Aether?"
"Well," Rocket said, scrutinizing the destroyed safe again. "It's a safe bet to say someone with Shi'ar connections got it-if I had to guess, probably someone from an outlying planet over in that galaxy. They got a bunch of auctions there-real prestigious things, where a bunch of stuck-up, filthy-rich a-holes buy their illegal stuff."
"I have attended one of those," Gamora said, looking thoughtful. "They are interesting events-the upper classes mingling with common thieves. If the thief had any idea the value of what he was stealing, it is a likely bet that is where he would go." She shot Peter a look. "I am surprised you do not know of this-did the Ravagers not deal with the Shi'ar auctioners?"
"If they did, I sure as heck didn't know," Peter muttered. "Didn't know a whole lot about operations, really." He shook his head. "At any rate, it's unimportant-Rocket, got any ideas of how to find the particular auction our thief went to?"
"Already on it, Moon-boy," Rocket said as he fiddled with a datapad, ignoring Peter's annoyed "It's Star-lord."
"Scanning now," he said, waving the blue screen. "Any auctions happenin' over in the Shi'ar galaxy soon'll pop up. We just gotta find the right one."
"And we are certain this is where the thief has fled?" Drax asked, doubtfully.
"If it's really a thief with Shi'ar tech, it's our best bet," Rocket replied.
"Oh, it definitely is," Jorin piped up, causing the five to jump. "Master checked the security feeds that weren't blown. It's a Shi'ar auctioner."
"The security feeds," Peter said flatly.
"That he already checked," Gamora said with equal flatness. The others gaped at the boy.
"Uh…yeah?" he said, uncertainly.
"I hate that guy," Rocket growled, throwing the datapad across the floor.
"Shi'ar," the dark-skinned woman breathed from the shadows in the upper rafters. She crawled quietly towards the blown-out wall, taking care to hide among the wreckage and darkness. The Zen-Whoberian woman had nearly caught her-she needed to be more careful. She emerged from the wreckage, standing at the edge, scanning the brightly-lit city. Taking a breath, she jumped.
The wind rushed past her as she fell, plummeting towards the ground, only to land gracefully and silently on her feet. Straightening, she walked purposefully towards the abandoned residential section. Striding silently through the darkened rows of buildings, she ducked into a run-down hanger-
Only to be met with a blaster in her face.
"Relax," she hissed. "It's me."
"Captain Victoria," the blaster-wielder, a humanoid in dark clothes said contritely, nodding his head. "My apologies."
"No," she said. "You need to be on guard-it's going to come in handy."
"You found the Infinity Stone?" Another blaster-wielding man asked, stepping out of the dark.
"Not the stone, but a definite lead," she said. "The Collector has hired a team he believes will find it-the Guardians of the Galaxy. The king wants us to follow them."
"Are you sure that's the best idea?" The first soldier asked, following her as she headed further into the hangar.
"It's out best chance," Victoria said, tapping a control on her wrist. From seemingly out of thin air, a sleek ship shimmered into existence. "And we cannot afford to fail this mission. The king is depending on us."
"As you command, Captain," the man muttered, beckoning to the other hidden soldiers as they clambered into the ship.
"As the king commands," Victoria murmured, following him. "We've got a team of five-lock onto them and let's go."