Space Lovers~ Peter Quill

8. Come and Get You're Love

"How much!" I screech as Peter finishes filling up the precious beast of a Milano with fuel. Myself having headed over to pay the half-reptile appearing creature for his resources. 

His snout like that of a lizards and his eyes as sharp and eagle eyed as a wild cats. Rough layers of green and black scales partially reflecting the subdued, orange, light of the fulling station as he snarls at my outburst. 

"10,000 Units, love," he hissed. Leaning over his grubby counter onto his broad hands, his glare as potent like his breath. My nose scrunching up at how strong his odour infiltrated my sensitive nose. 

Someone please hand this guy some gum and a few bottles of body wash! 

"That's a little steep though, in't it?" I raise an eyebrow at him. Cocking my hip out and resting my hands casually on my hips. His offensive actions not affecting my snarky attitude as prominently as he would hope. 

"That's the price, you gonna pay me in units... or in another form?" his coy smirk having my skin crawling. 

"Excuse me? Who do you think I am? My services are more than triple your prices so take the money for the overpriced fuel and never look at me again!" I hiss, smashing the agreed amount of units down on the scratched counter before I turn around and storm out of the small fuel-station. Peter's head snapping up as he sees my foaming figure march up to the Milano and the chuckle that escapes his lips a he extends an arm to tuck my body into his side as we board the ship has a deadly glare being sent his way. 

"I'm presuming he wanted a look at my goods?" Peter chuckles as I throw myself into the co-pilot seat. Steam practically blowing from my ears as I slouch and mumble a string of crude words as I begin pressing the button and leavers systematically to prepare for take-off. 

"Come on, Princess, you know how I would never sell myself like that, especially to someone who charges that much for fuel." Peter bringing a small smile to my face as he walks past towards the pilot seat; placing a kiss on my temple and handing me a handful of jelly sweets we'd stolen from a stall earlier this afternoon. 

"Peter," I dead pan, giving him a side-long look as he begins laughing at me, "It's not funny!" I end up laughing myself as he begins mocking me by imitating my last statement with a grouchy face. 

"Just a little funny, Princess" he laughs, pulling the final lever and allowing the thrustsers to  elevate the Milano into the air. 

"You think you're so funny, Space-Lord,"

"Star-Lord, baby. Don't you forget it," he sends a wink my way. The cheek of this boy!

🛸🛸🛸

We arrived back at the bar where the wagering on Orloni creatures occurred, hand in hand Peter and I stride into the hot and crowded bar that appeared to be breaking out into a fight. The epicentre of the chaos seemed to be emitting from our fellow compatriots as they attempted to knock each others heads off, predominantly Drax and Rocket, the latter suddenly pulling a large custom gun from his backpack and pointing it towards the large man. Gamora valiantly pushing Drax away and attempting to hold him at bay as Peter rushes from my side and jumps in the line of fire if the tipsy Raccoon. 

"Peter!" I hiss as I go to push him out the way but a large branch of Groots' has my body held behind him. The tall tree casting an apologetic glance over his large shoulder as he gets up to his feet from where Drax had pushed him and stands protectively in front of me. The ambiguous tree determined to stop me from getting anywhere near the heated situation. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing!" Peter exclaims as he faces into the ever contracting and growing gun that Rocket has in his drunken hands. 

"This vermin speaks of affairs he knows nothing about," Drax spat as he attempts to throw Gamora off his bulging bicep. The woman holding strong as she glares daggers at the buffoon. 

"That is true!" Rocket agrees

"He has no respect!"

"That is also true!" I couldn't help the small smirk creeping onto my face as I peep my head around Groots broad frame. His arm still held out as he keeps at a safe distance. 

"Hold on, Hold on!" Peter desperately tries to stop the emotional animal from blowing us all to Sakaar and beyond.

"Keep calling me vermin, tough guy! You just wanna laugh at me like everyone else!" Rockets voice catching in his throat as those strong walls that he meticulously built began crumbing with the strong spirits flowing through his veins.  

"Rocket, you're drunk," I call cautiously as I move to stand beside Groot, I attempted to move past the large tree but his arm prevented my body from moving past his, "No one's laughing at you..."

"He thinks I'm some stupid thing! He does! Well, I didn't ask to get made! I didn't ask to be torn apart, and put back together, over and over and turned into some...some little monster!" The raw emotion in his voice as he attempts to stop the tears from falling as he relives the pain and anger he's always face his entire life has most of us surrounding him pausing; this pivotal moment where Rocket decides he wishes to end us all or to let us live another hour of our crappy lives. 

"Rocket, no one's calling you a monster." Peter tries to explain. In some ways, we're all monsters, it just depends on who's shoes you're standing in is dependant upon the definition.  

"He called me vermin! She called me rodent!" I give a stern glare to the accused, Gamora and Drax, "Let's see if you can laugh after five or six good shots to your frickin' face!" 

Hoisting the large gun up to face the guilty, Rocket drowsily goes to obliterate us all with them; had Peter not jumped right into the firing line. The dumb idiot is asking to get shot at this rate!

"No, no, no, no! Four billion units! Rocket! Come on, man. Hey! Suck it up for one more lousy night and you're rich." Peter grasping at straws as he faces down a literal barrel of death; whilst announcing to the entire vicinity that we are carrying a heavily priced item. If we aren't jumped in the next thirty seconds I will be amazed. 

Pausing in contemplation, Rocket slowly lowers his gun, "Fine. But I can't promise when all this is over I'm not gonna kill every last one of you jerks."

"Thanks, Rocket. I appreciate the heads up," I think my eye roll was audible to everyone as I sneakily manoeuvred around Groot to stand beside Peter. More bodies between Rocket and Drax in-case things go south quickly.  

"Nah, not you Queeny; I'm starting to like you,"

"See? That's exactly why none of you have any friends!" Peter says causing my eyes to disappear into the back of my head as I sigh at his stupidity; I have no idea how he managed to get me to marry him if this is his optimum brain capacity, "Five seconds after you meet somebody, you're already trying to kill them!"

"We have travelled halfway across the quadrant, and Ronan is no closer to being dead." Drax joins in. I feel as if I'm on a flipping merry-go-round at the fact that this situation keeps going round in imaginary circles; Drax eventually having had enough and storms off whilst pushing the green assassin out of his way as he went. 

"Drax!" I call out,

"Let him go. We don't need him." Gamora spits as she turns to face us, a sour expression moulded onto her face. 

Thankfully, grand doors open up behind us and a pretty lady with peachy pink skin tiptoes out in what would seem a delicate fashion to some, "Milady Gamora, I'm here to fetch you for my master." 

My breath catching at the word she used for her boss. Someone of obvious power issues and probably and questionable fashion taste f this young lady was anything to go off. 

"Oh thank Odinson!" I exclaim as I turn swiftly on my heels and begin stomping off towards the young woman, "Any longer and I think Ragnarok would commence,"

"What did she just say?" I hear Rocket- not so quietly- whisper to my husband. 

"I have no idea..." Peter whispers back, "I've learnt to just go with it."