Hi! This is the first fanfiction I've ever written. I don't have much to say about it yet (I'm kind-of writing it as I go along) but as it stands it's still pretty unfinished. I have a direction I'm taking it but it may take some time to get to the actual Avengers in the story. Enjoy!
"Hey, Drax! So whaddaya think this thing is?"
Peter shouted from the Milano's pilot seat. The engine roared outside in the emptiness of space, but inside it was only a quiet rumble. Before Drax could finish chewing his zargo nut to answer, Rocket spoke up to answer instead.
"Who cares! Computer says this thing's worth a lotta money. Couldn't tell ya' why, though. Just looks like a big ol' hunk a' wood to me."
"I am Groot."
"No offense, pal."
Peter tries his best to turn around and see Groot's expression without letting go of the controls. Despite the voluntary strain of his neck, his voice comes out clear to the group behind him.
"Well I'm just sayin'! If the Nova Corps are listing this thing for as much as it is then imagine how much more we could make from it from the right buyer. Could be our best haul yet!"
"The Nova Corps only put bounties on things that are dangerous. If they're paying as much as they are, it could be a bad idea to turn around and sell it to some madman for double the price."
Rocket looks up from the gun he's working on and considers Gamora's point. The Nova Corps don't usually put bounties out just for the fun of it. But then again, there could be a lot more to gain. I mean, what's the worst that could happen from selling some shoddy wooden box to someone like the Collector?
Rocket puts down the gun he'd been working on, jumps off of the crate he was sitting on, and puts the gun into said crate. Then he sits back down and glances at Groot on the other side of the room, to try and gauge his opinion on the matter. Then again, his eyes drift over to the back of the room. The box was stationed with the rest of their cargo, bound to the wall using thick rubber straps to keep it from sliding.
The box's wooden navy walls shined softly under the white lights of its signage near the top. In contrast, the bright orange lamp on top almost hurt his eyes to look at. Despite this, and while it wasn't anything impressive mechanically, the box nonetheless had an oddly soothing presence to him. And judging by Groot's expression, he felt the same way. Drax, still leaning against the side of the box's indented wall, spoke up.
"A closet."
"What?"
"You asked me what I thought it was. I believe it is a closet."
"Drax- you really think that thing's a closet?"
"Drax, the Nova Corps wouldn't put a two million unit bounty on a closet."
"What if they're in dire need of new clothes?"
"Then they'd make clothes, ya' dumbass! A closet's for storin' clothes."
"I am Groot."
"Groot, closets don't make the clothes we wear. That's not how it works."
"I am Groot."
"Well even if this one did make clothes, it wouldn't go for two million. I mean look at it! It's hideous! Not to mention huge, too. I mean, who'd want that flarkin' disaster sittin' in the middle-a their bedroom, ay? And from the Nova Corps no less?"
"I think it is beautiful."
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Drax."
"Can we just focus on getting this thing back to the Nova Corps so we can be done?"
The harsh tone of Gamora's voice immediately made Drax, Groot and Peter stop in their tracks. Rocket, however, seemed majorly unmoved by Gamora's sudden outburst. Instead, he just hopped down and walked over to the second pilot's seat to sit down. He began to tap at the touchscreen controls of the ship, readying the vessel for entry into Nova Corps space. Just as he was doing so, Mantis walked up from the staircase on the side of the room. She saw Drax and her face immediately lit up.
"Ooh! Nice closet, Drax!"