peterquillss - Tumblr blog

peterquillss · 3 years

Text

The Misadventures of Star-Lord & the Earth Girl #17

Summary: When Malia Reyes wakes in the dead of night, she finds an alien ship crashed atop her apartment building! And the “alien,’ abroad is no other then Star-Lord, retired Guardian fallen back on his more criminal lifestyle. Now with fate having thrown a man from the stars and a girl from earth together, they’ll have to survive whatever the black void of space and the marvel universe has to throw at them.

Rated: PG-13

Pairings: Peter Quill x OC

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Maybe she should've stayed on the Cruise Ship after all. Without Peter. And his damn endless supply of seventies hits. But, it was too late for that now — days having passed from the week-long event and the Milano being far off from its territory. She just had to deal with him and his rather musical mood today; regardless of their previous , "we have no money," conversation earlier on. What on earth possessed her to stay after that clear sign was beyond her. She loved him too much. Narrowing her brown eyes in his direction with resentment as the song Magic by Pilot played, Malia folded her arms over her chest and groaned loud enough to catch Peter's attention — which he ignored giving her, too immersed in his personal song and dance. Why did she fall in love with this man again?

Peter moved in sync with the music, even while limited by the confines of his seat. Malia's displeasure with his music choices wasn't something he turned out, just something that he'd grown accustomed to. She never really got too upset about it, just a weary look and a comment about his 'hippie music' here and there. Maybe it was because she knew what the music meant to him. Maybe, but Peter had other suspicions. Once in a while he'd catch her getting into a song, swaying and mouthing the words presumably so he wouldn't hear her. She'd immediately stop if she so much as suspected he was looking. He kinda wished she would just cut loose.

He'd seen her worry and get lost in thought so much in the past that seeing her just be happy in the moment and let the music be all that was on her mind made him happy for her. Not to mention it was one of those things she did that made him think he couldn't love her any more then he already did.

The song faded out, leaving Peter with a combination of satisfaction and excitement for the next track. He glanced at Malia who rolled her eyes and looked out the window at the stars. Peter chuckled, glancing at the controls. "Hey, don't worry about the money thing. We're making a stop that'll have some chances for cash. I got this." She gave him a smirk that faded after a few moments before giving a small nod.

The next track started to play and a smile crossed Peter's face. 'Stumblin' by Suzi Quatro', a favorite of his and a song he knew for a fact Malia enjoyed. He looked at Malia, putting on a look of shock. "Oh shit, Mal! It's a duet. Come on, don't leave me hanging."

"Someone has to worry," Malia huffed in response as the familiar song she would never admit she loved to him started to fill her ears. She knew that he knew some of his tracks had pierced through her modern heart, but — she pretended more often than not, like they didn't; for fun. And for the adorable face he made whenever she did. It had grown into a habit of hers. Pursing her lips into a forced line amidst the head bopping beat, she turned her face away from him before he could catch her change in expression and chewed the inside of her cheek. Maybe she did want to sing along, just a little, since it was her favorite song.

"Wherever you go, whatever you do...," As Peter directed the lyrics he sang, rather loudly, in her direction with a smile that reflected off the windshield mirror for her to see, Malia felt the corners of her mouth lift into a genuine grin of her own as he continued to belt out the rest of his part and playfully reach out for her. "You know these reckless thoughts of mine are following you."

She softly slapped his hand away, in between a giggle and allowed herself to move to the rhythm of the beat. "I've fallen for you, whatever you do," She harmonized in her part. "Cause, baby, you've shown me so many things that I never knew!"

Malia swayed to the music, extended out her hand to Peter and continued to carol her parts of the duet in glee, putting her worries behind her for the remainder of the song. She felt pleased seeing him like this with her, happy, when before it was a rare occurence to come by, knowing the undisclosed pain she knew he held. Of course, he shared sweet moments she forever would remember, the smiles and laughs he allowed himself to have. But, they were different. This was different. So, she'd cherish the moment and make it last longer.

"Our love is alive, and so we begin!" In unison, she sang along with Peter the chorus, dancing in the co-pilot seat beside him and looked in his direction to catch his loving gaze. She admired the heavenly feeling he gave her as she continued to harmonize the track, squeezing his hand. "Foolishly laying our hearts on the table, stumblin in." Malia smiled, never taking her attention from him and swayed blissfully. If singing to his music made him this happy, she'd sing with him all the time. To have her heart swell, explode in millions of butterflies that tickled her inside. What could she say? She loved him.

Peter let Malia's hand go and shook his head as the closing notes of the song began to play. It was still so weird to think that this woman who had grown to be so important to him had just wandered into his ship at random one night. He looked at her, catching the beaming smile she was giving as she watched him, unable to help smiling back. "What?"

Malia shook her head, the smile never leaving her face. "Nothing." The song ended and a few seconds later the opening notes to Queen's rendition of ' The Great Pretender' began to play. "So, where are we stopping this time?"

Peter adjusted the controls before returning his full attention to Malia. "Sakarr. Never been there myself, but it's supposed to be filled with all kinds of chances to make a little deniro."

Malia nodded, even though she had that adorable clueless look on her face. "How long?"

Peter shrugged. "Not long with these private trading routes at our disposal."

Malia shifted in her seat, pulling one of her knees up to her chest. "They are helpful. This 'Sakarr', what's it supposed to be like?"

Peter made a slight adjustment in the ship's course before answering. "Kinda tough from what I've heard, but don't worry. You've got superpowers after all."

"Yeah, I'll go in there blazing while you hide behind me and scream like a girl." Malia lifted her hands in an exaggerated gesture and laughed as the hysterical image of Peter freaking out while she kicked some random alien's butt filled her mind. It made her a bit excited over the possibility of her using her, 'gifts,' to fight and discover more about them. He being so accepting of her weird, glowy hands, had given her the confidence boost she needed over them. Her powers were no longer a pending secret she shared; it’s burden having become weightless.

Drifting her attention toward the colorful constellation in front of her, she remained silent for a few minutes, listening to Freddie Mercury’s ballad before speaking again. “If only there was a death star that needed blowing up,” She flatly chimed, remembering the fondness Peter had for the sci-fi classic. Unlike Captain America, she was certain he caught her not-so vague reference to a galaxy far, far away. After all, she was the Leia to his Han Solo. Their paired figurines on the dash of the Milano proved half of that claim, along with everything else.

“I forgot I glued those there,” Malia pointed to the small statuettes with a blissful expression painted over her face and smiled as she tried to reach out for them briefly and then relax herself back into her seat when the awkward attempt failed. Instead, she flicked her fingers, like a witch would amidst chanting a spell, and created a circular veil over the stilled dolls. “I will be Space’s Mightiest…,” She paused to think of a catchy enough alias to go with the known saying and bit her bottom lip. “Hero?” She said in the form of a question, glancing over at Peter for any suggestions.

She stared at him as another track began to play, then followed his gaze toward the shields she had placed over their figurines. “I can make them go away,” Waving her hand effortlessly in a dismissive motion, the blueish bubbles vanishing from the plastic toys. Maybe, she should’ve warned him a bit first? Malia stifled in a laugh at his lack of response, bewildered into rare silence again and leaned toward his chair. “Peter, sweetie?” She placed a hand on his arm, feeling light butterflies tickle her stomach over her first usage of a pet name and smiled playfully as she made her index and middle fingers into legs to walk along his arm. “I know where your candy is,” She whispered with an added gasp, hoping that would snap him out of his dazed state.

Peter quickly snapped his gaze from the figurines to Malia, noting the mischievous grin on her face. "Hold the phone. You mean I didn't lose it?" Malia let her hand brush his arm as she returned to her seat. "Mal? You better tell me where my candy is." Peter furrowed his brow as Malia mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key. "Oh, that's how it's gonna be then?" Malia shrugged her shoulders, a pleased smile on her face. Peter nodded, a smile of his own creeping across his face. "One of these days, when you're looking out at space, don't be surprised if you see a certain bunch of wizard related movies floating by."

That got her. Malia sat up straight, her eyes widening a bit. "You wouldn't."

Peter gave a small shrug. "A man does crazy things when he doesn't get candy, Mal. I may not be able to stop myself."

Malia sat back in her seat with a huff. "Your precious candy is under the cushion of the bench."

Peter smirked. "Alright. Crisis averted."

Malia glanced at him and smiled. "You're booze on the other hand..."

Peter threw up his brow. "Oh, that's even worse. Not sure what'll happen if I get sober all at once."

Malia slapped both of her hands over the sides of her face in a dramatized expression of shock and turned her attention toward Peter. "I don't know. Maybe, you'll clean your room?" She suggested with widened brown eyes for emphasis. Over their six month course on the Milano she'd cleaned his room about twice, opting the third time to leave his pigpen alone for him to roll over in. It wasn’t dirty in terms of trash laying around, but rather an accumulation of scattered clothes, unmentionables, and candy wrappers. She was lucky he at least showered.

“By the way, I found something the other day.” While she was on the subject of cleaning, she remembered the disc she found in one of the guest bedrooms. “I know I shouldn’t really go into those rooms…,” She admitted as she unbuckled the safety-straps from her torso and carefully walked toward the back of the flight deck. “But, I was looking for some tape and found it in one of the bins, tucked away.” Malia rummaged through the knapsack she usually left hanging near the ship’s blasters and retrieved the circular-like chip Tochi told her was actually a video.

Unhooking one of the pads from the armrest of an empty chair, she inserted the micro disk into its side and made her way back to her seat, trying to contain her excitement over the footage she had already seen of him and his team the night before. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him over it. Like where had they all gone? It was clear as day to her they were no longer together or in contact, but why? She paused in her train of thought, hoping what she was about to show him didn’t count as crossing the line with her overzealous curiosity.

“It’s some old footage,” Malia looked up at Peter once the video loaded on the pocket sized computer in her hand and smiled sheepishly as his blue eyes wandered onto the pad itself. She studied his muddled expression, her hand blocking him from seeing the screen and gave him an affectionate gaze, before hitting the play button. “It’s you and the Guardians…,” She mumbled, the sounds of the captured battle he at the time led, shouting out orders being displayed. He was nothing like the man she knew. “Look at you!” She beamed, smiling from ear to ear.

She averted her eyes from his face to look down at the moving images on the pad she held up for him, pointed at his figure on the screen and took in the footage with him. Besides the clip of The Guardians of the Galaxy, there were more mashed up tidbits recorded that she loved. “The cameraman is awful at his job,” Giggling over the shaky shots and the very angry Raccoon who scolded someone named, “Groot,” Malia returned her attention back to Peter. Her gleeful smile slowly wavered from her lips when she caught sight of his somber expression. “Peter?”

Peter had heard Malia say something, but it hadn't registered. Nothing she'd said after the footage started had his full attention on that. Everything else around him felt like it'd been drained of its warmth and color as the old footage pulled him deeper in. Thoughts and feelings he'd tried for so long to keep buried bubbled to the surface. There was a reason he'd cleared the ship of almost every trace of his old teammates, and this was it. Because thinking of them meant thinking of when they left, and thinking of that meant thinking of why.

He was far into thinking that as the footage switched to a more candid moment of the team together. Peter felt sick as he recognized the location and knew it was just hours before his greatest failure. Just hours before and he'd had everything. His team, his family. He'd finally grown into more of the leader he tried so hard to be. He'd been happy. A few hours later he'd destroyed it all. Everything he'd done and gone through that day was still so fresh in his mind that sometimes it still felt like he was living it. He was living it now as the feeling of utter devastation he'd felt ever since came to the forefront.

He furrowed his brow, anger mixing in with the sadness, all of it directed at himself. He and his team continued to laugh as they made their way around the streets, oblivious to the coming event that would tear them apart. Peter was stuck in that event as he sat frozen in place, all of it written on his face plain as day as he stared at the screen.The fear, confusion, sadness, hatred, hopelessness, all of it felt like it was pushing to burst out of him. He tried to at least hold it together on the outside, having never much cared for feeling vulnerable. It was a battle he was quickly losing.

The camera turned and Peter saw himself at the front of the group, closely followed by a kid who'd taken a liking to him and the others. Her face and voice was forever scorched into Peter's mind as they both embodied everything that's happened that day. She was the last thing he could handle seeing. Peter broke his eyes away from the screen and set them forward on the stars. "Turn it off.

“Okay.” Malia lowered the pad from his line of view and turned off the electronic device without saying another word. She deeply regretted her decision over the footage and remained silent, knowing their lighthearted mood had drastically shifted into something she wanted to avoid. Something she expected yet, wished would’ve gone a different way. The subject over his team was indeed the puzzle piece she connected to the undisclosed pain she knew he felt. It was apparent by the waves of emotions she witnessed his face have in the span of the video.

Biting her lower lip, she squeezed the sides of the tablet gently, at a loss as the crippling silence started to take hold over her. ‘Should she excuse herself and leave?’ She thought to herself, unsure of the proper action to take. She wanted him to face whatever it was he desperately was trying to run away from. “Peter?” Malia turned her attention toward him, having kept her eyes trained on the dashboard for the long minutes that passed, and exhaled a deep breath in response to his stillness. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself…,” She flatly stated. “I won’t let you.”

She carefully moved the pad off her lap to twist her body into a more comfortable position and leaned as much as her seat restraints could allow her over to him, reaching out for his arm. “I know I’ve told you plenty of times you don’t have to tell me anything, but,” She paused to flick on the autopilot option of the Milano and continued in a stern tone. “It’s okay to talk about things and let them out.” That’s all she wanted, hating seeing him like this. She unbuckled her seatbelt with a desolate smile and stood beside his chair, hoping some of her words broke through. “And please don’t tell me you're okay cause I know you're not.”

Peter took a deep breath, letting her words sink in while the contents of the footage still swirled in his mind. He wasn't surprised that Mal had taken note of all of this. She was perceptive, it was one of the things he admired in her. A part of him really did want to tell her, let it out, but a bigger part was scared of how she'd take it. His hand wandered over his pocket, the picture he'd kept with him since that day coming to mind. Telling her would mean facing all that again. "Nothing gets by you, huh?"

He let the statement lighten the mood for the brief moment it did before the heaviness returned. He wasn't sure he could talk about it, but he owed Mal something more than silence. Peter took another deep breath, trying to keep the emotions out of his voice. "My team." The words hung in the air for a few moments before he continued. "We broke up about a year before I met you." His mind again wandered to the 'why', but he tried to ignore it. "It was bad, really bad." He slid a hand into his pocket, touching the picture housed there. It hurt him just knowing it was there despite his avoidance to look at it, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Maybe he should just tell her. It couldn't feel worse than this, right? He gingerly grasped the polaroid, keeping his eyes trained on the stars ahead. "It was my fault, all of it."

Malia let out a heavy sigh as his unexpected words sunk into her head and laid there. Particularly, the — 'all my fault,' part of his somber statement. She was unsure of how to take it. She could never imagine Peter doing anything spiteful on purpose to anyone or his team. He didn't have it in him. "I'm sure you tried your best." Gingerly touching the back of his metal chair, she leaned herself a little closer to him and hovered over his form with a soft expression. "Even if it was all your fault," She added cautiously. "Some bad things happen so we can learn from them sometimes." Malia ran her hand over his hair, before sitting herself on his lap. He had told her what he was willing to disclose, which was a lot to her, even if it was another puzzle piece to fit in.

"And, you can't learn from Peter if you're still stuck in that place." Lifting her brown eyes up to him, she gave him a heartfelt smile and grabbed the sides of his face playfully. "I told you I was going to need a reward for putting up with you," She chuckled, trying to lighten the heavy mood she felt was enough for the start of their day. There wasn't anything, but one part she hadn't already assumed over the absence of his team. The rest, the full story without any carefully placed words she would have to chisel slowly away for and wait or hope all the words she said helped him find his way. Pecking him on the lips, she wrapped one of his arms around her waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "Let's stay like this for a while, okay?" She mumbled, wanting to give him comfort.

Peter let go of the photograph in his pocket, taking the arm and wrapping it around Malia. He held her as tightly as he could without causing her discomfort. A deep sigh escaped him as the weight of the topic began to dissipate. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

He'd let the topic go as best he could for now, but it was never fully gone. There was more that he felt needed said, but he wasn't sure he was ready. He knew Mal would try and understand and help, but he wasn't sure if it was something that could be helped. If she were to know and look at him differently for it, he knew it'd kill him. But, she deserved to know, and so he'd try and tell her. He didn't know when, but he'd try. He'd just have to deal with whatever came of it.

There was one thing she'd said that he disagreed with though. He had learned from the whole mess. He'd learned that he had never been the hero he thought he was, and that he likely never would be at all.

The cargo bay door lowered and Peter was immediately hit with the stench of garbage. They'd touched down in a landing bay on the outskirts of a city once they reached Sakarr Beings dressed like vagabonds hustled about, none really noting Peter and Mal's arrival. Malia joined him at his side, having changed into the usual garb of her space suit and his jacket. She'd claimed his only spare jacket as hers after his had been shredded during a tangle with that symbiote. This left Peter with just his trench coat for trips away from the Milano.

Malia wrinkled her nose as she took in the trashy landscape. "It's no Contraxia."

Peter drew his attention up from her outfit when she spoke. "No it is not."

Malia glanced at him, no doubt noticing the very conscious effort he was making to not constantly gawk at her in her outfit. "Every time I wear it, huh?"

Peter smiled, looking back out at the planet. "I'm not apologizing." He wasn't completely sure where to start, having only heard scattered facts about the planet. There was an arena, he knew that . Maybe they could get some units and bet on some matches. Their best bet would probably be to hit a bar and ask around. Someplace not too good looking, so that it would have more locals than travellers. Peter instinctively held out his arm for Malia to take, it having become a habit. "Let's go."

“Yeah.” Malia shifted her attention from the junkyard scenery around her and looped her small arms around Peter’s forearm for their stroll along the cluttered outskirts of Sakaar. For a planet built on assorted scraps of metal, 'it sure was colorful,’ she noted as she continued to take in the new environment and keep an eye out for possible job opportunities. With their need for money, or units as space currency was called, any doable task was up for grabs in her mind. If only she knew how to read the alien calligraphy written on some signs to help narrow them down.

Peter could with the implanted translators in his neck, but she avoided asking him once a daunting thought hit her. What if they weren’t ‘help wanted,’ signs after all? Drifting her brown eyes along the plethora of merchants up ahead, Malia unhooked one of her arms to point at one masked seller and their stand. “Are those cookies?” She wondered out loud, pulling Peter toward the vendor without hesitation. There weren’t many space cuisines she enjoyed eating, let alone snacks like he had, so part of her wanted to find something she liked.

“Can we taste them? Like, have a sample.” She looked over the selection of baked goods that were wrapped in vibrant plastic bags and sheepishly smiled up at the merchant, unable to see their facial expression hidden behind the steampunk visor they wore. “Um…,” She pulled Peter softly by the sleeve of his coat, feeling a bit self conscious and took a step back away from the stand — deciding on which bag of mixed pastries she would take. In the case the merchant said no to her sampling, she’d go on a wim and pick one that looked good enough.

“That one kinda looks like it’s fudge, right?” Pointing cautiously at one of the rosy colored bags near the far end of the table, Malia lifted her gaze up to Peter who seemed to be pondering a choice of his own and snorted. “Oh no!” She playfully wagged a finger in front of his face. “You're not getting any cookies. These are for me. Not you.” She chuckled. As if his candy diet wasn’t bad enough, he now wanted to add more sweets to its mix. “Do you want your baby muscles to turn into chubby ones?” She asked with an amused grin. “We’re going to have to get you an ab-roller then.”

Peter scoffed at the comment, taking a step back from Mal. "I'll have you know that the side of me that isn't you makes sure that this," He gestured towards his torso in a sweeping motion. "isn't going anywhere." Peter gave a flirtatious smile, throwing up his brow. "Lucky you."

Malia shook her head, her eyes wandering around the market. "Oh, I'm a lucky girl. Picking up candy wrappers all over the place."

Peter reached into his pocket, feeling around for some units. They were low, but food Mal liked was a rarity. Besides, they were going to make some more soon, hopefully. He pointed out a bag of pastries and handed over the units. "Nobody asked you to clean up."

Mal watched the bag as Peter took it. "Somebody has to, Star-Lard."

Peter paused, his mouth dropping open slightly at the jab. "You know what? These were for you, and now they're not. Think about that next time you wanna be hurtful."

Malia watched as the bag disappeared into his satchel. "Oh, come on. Don't be a baby."

Peter shook his head, looking at Mal. "Nope. Not gonna..." He caught her eyes as she innocently looked at him, and immediately averted the gaze by looking just above them. "Not happening."

"Please?” Malia drew herself closer to Peter and pushed her lips forward into a persuasive pout as she placed both her hands over his chest and batted her eyelashes at him. "I'll give you one of my cookies and a kiss?" She offered, inching her face closer to his to tease the intimate action he loved to engage in with her. It was his sort of kryptonite, or maybe she was? His sort of ultimate weakness. She smiled at the comic book thought and continued her childish pleas for her kidnapped goods. “You know you want to give me my cookies back so, give em.”

Peter kept his eyes straight ahead, debating his commitment to withholding the cookies. "What kind of kiss are we talking about?"

Malia shrugged. "Why? Do you have a preference?"

Peter threw up his brow, thinking back over the few times they'd shared a kiss in the past... two days? They'd only been together two days? Still felt so weird, but completely normal too. He paused on a thought, giving Malia a small smile. "One like that time on Kalara's rig. When we were in the hall."

Malia laughed, dropping her head a bit, but keeping her eyes on his. "You liked that one, huh?"

Peter gave an enthusiastic nod. "I did."

Malia straightened up, holding out her hand to Peter. "Alright. It's a deal."

Peter nodded, shaking the outstretched hand and holding out the bag in the other. "Alright."

Malia took the bag, giving Peter a wink before walking off. "You should've specified 'when'."

Peter watched her move ahead of him, a bit dumbstruck by the con she'd just pulled. After a few seconds a chuckle escaped him. " My God, I love you."

He started after her, remembering she didn't know anymore where they were going then he did. His eyes scanned the outside of the market, looking for a bar or something like it. He finally caught sight of a dingy looking entrance way with no windows. The sign above was mostly destroyed from what looked like an explosion, judging by the scorch marks. Really the only indication that the place was a bar came from the vagabond passed out on the ground in front of it surrounded by bottles. He tapped Mal on the shoulder and gestured towards the place. "Come on. We'll see about finding a lead there."

Malia nodded her head in response and followed Peter into the unkempt tavern, opening her vibrant bag of cookies in anticipation. "Do you want one?" She asked in a hushed tone as the disreputable environment of the bar settled itself around them and caused her to rethink her premature offer. "Nevermind...," She placed the plastic bag inside his satchel, not wanting to draw any attention and pulled on the flaps of her oversized jacket. ‘What kind of lead were they looking for exactly?’ She wondered. The place seemed to be crawling with so many questionable options already. None which she was too enthusiastic to comb over.

“Why can't we get jobs like normal people?” Malia drifted her brown eyes over the bustling crowd of colorful Sakaarans, going about their business, drinking and briefly touched Peter’s arm once one of the patrons suspiciously eyed them from across the room. That was enough motivation for her to move herself along and avoid ever going in that particular direction. She didn’t want to be mysteriously taken and auctioned off somewhere. Space was a dangerous place ,she learned, the public establishments only adding to it’s laundry list of things to be mindful of. They were like minefields to her, filled with countless booby-traps.

Looking over at Peter, who had shuffled his way toward the bar counter, Malia squeezed herself beside him and the very large individual sitting beside him. “You better be asking the bartender for a lead and not a drink,” She folded her arms as best she could over her chest and glared in his direction. “I don’t care what you say about your genes keeping this,” She moved one of her hands in a circular motion over his figure. “—together. Alcohol makes your human side get fat.” She expressed, not really knowing if her statement held any merit at all. Peter was indeed half-human, right? So, that meant something, she assumed.

“We’re going to get you that ab-roller and , oh, start doing yoga! It’ll be fun.” Malia lifted both of her hands excitedly at the idea of helping him get back into shape, or rather toned up a bit and started to list off the various activities he’d have to do and foods he’d have to cut, like the alcohol and his candy, forgetting about their task at hand. “Oh my god, we’ll even wear matching workout clothes. I’m sure we can find those somewhere. Aren’t you excited?” She gave him a gentle push, accidentally bumping into the customer behind her and quickly apologized, before bringing a smile to her face. “I’ll be like Jane Fonda.”

Peter had had a comeback in mind, but Malia's last statement had sent his mind wandering to Jane Fonda's wardrobe in Barbarella. This inevitably led to him imagining Malia in a spacey bikini of her own, an image he knew wasn't going away anytime soon. Malia shoved his arm, snapping him back to the situation at hand. "Hey? I said, ``What kind of lead?"

Peter shrugged as he turned around to face the room. "You know, odd jobs. Anything that would net us some cash. We just have to ask around." He scanned the room, not knowing where to start. "Just gotta ask around."

Malia grabbed his hand and pointed across the room. "What about them?"

Peter let his eyes roam over the group Malia had pointed out, shaking his head. "Not quite shady enough. We need at least kinda shady, but not completely shady."

Malia gave him a light pat on the arm. "So, you? "

Peter considered the words for a moment before nodding. "Pretty much." His eyes continued to wander around the room, stopping when he thought he saw a familiar face. He focused on the dark corner of the bar, hoping he'd been mistaken. The woman moved slightly, enough for the light to hit her blue face and reflect off the cybernetic eye. Peter tightened his grip on Malia's hand, immediately turning towards the door. "Time to go."

"But, what about the leads?" Malia looked over her shoulder in the direction Peter had stared off to and caught sight of the scowling woman she assumed caused his sudden panic and change in tune. “Who…,” She blinked at the cybernetic individual, receiving a glared response in return as she did and turned her head away, the crowded streets of Sakaar coming back into view. "Frenemy?" She asked once the tavern was far from their line of sight, surprisingly not considering the blue colored woman an ex of his. She just didn’t look like one.

Her cybernetic death glare made her believe she was a friend or frenemy like she mentioned. There was a look of familiarity there, not filled with too much animosity she might add. “You know, a person who's sorta a friend, but also kinda an enemy too?” She felt inclined to explain, digging into the back of Peter Satchel for her cookies while they followed a sea of residents down the street. “She looked like an assassin.” Malia took a small pause after her statement to bite into the cookie she held in her hand and smiled, savoring it’s taste.

“It is chocolate!” She beamed. “Or something like it?” She added, pleased to have found a snack she could finally ask for at the market. She ran her finger across the plastic’s label, curious of its name and hummed at the alien writing, slightly annoyed she was met with the usual language barrier. “I feel like a handicap person,” She groaned, before handing the bag over to Peter. She didn’t want creepy implanted translators. “Read this, please.” She asked, catching sight of a growing line not too far from them. ‘That seemed shady enough,’ she thought to herself.

Peter glanced at the bag for a moment and sighed. "You know the translator only works with talking, right?"

Malia furrowed her brow as he handed the cookies back to her. "What?"

Peter nodded, eyeing the gathering crowd. "Yeah. I use my helmet for reading alien stuff, but the translator makes me able to understand and communicate in any language."

Malia continued to stare at him, wearing the adorably perplexed look she often had when encountering new things. "How?"

Peter shrugged, having long since accepted it as normal. "Not sure. Brainwaves and such. I might not even know English anymore, but with the implant it's what you hear from me."

Malia glanced down, absorbing all the new information. "Space is weird."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, it can be. Maybe you should get one? An implant, I mean. Just in case you run across an alien who doesn't if I'm not around."

Malia shook her head, covering her neck with her hand. "No way."

Peter looked over his shoulder, just to be sure Nebula hadn't followed him. 'Frenemy ' was what Mal had described her as, and Peter kind of agreed. Nebula always seemed to dislike him, but not outright hate him. There'd been a time or two where they'd even had a friendly enough conversation. Like that time he'd tried to get her and Gamora to make up. Peter sighed as he thought of his old teammate and looked back at Malia. "Looked like an assassin, huh?"

Malia shrugged. "She did."

Peter started towards the gathering crowd, deciding to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe there'd be a lead in there somewhere. He glanced back at Malia, feeling like he'd dropped the Nebula thing a bit too abruptly. "She's not a very good assassin if you picked her out that quickly."

Malia gave a small laugh. "All those mystery shows came in handy."

Peter held out his arm for her to take as they entered the crowd. "Seriously though. That's exactly what she is and she's grumpy, so I don't recommend saying 'hi'."

"Well, if she pops up and tries to kill you, I'll be sure to remember that." Malia let out a slight laugh with her response and wrapped her arms around his forearm again, drifting her attention toward the bustling crowd up ahead. "You know what this kinda reminds me of?" She asked as she took in the various Sakaarians in line ahead of them and smiled at the recent memory that filled her head. "When we waited for the lift in the garden," She clarified, looking up at him with a brief sentimental look of nostalgia. It was strange, how two whole days felt ancient.

Not too long ago, they were aboard a cruise ship, before then trying to figure out what their feelings meant for them going forward. And now? They just were, everything prior to that seeming like a year had gone and went, when merely days had passed. She squeezed Peter’s arm softly as she drew her thoughts back to the present and held up a finger when she recalled their deal. “I almost forgot,” She admitted, unhooking one of her arms from his to retrieve a cookie from her coat pocket. “Since you’ll be going on a diet, here you go.”

Handing him one of her baked goods, Malia playfully stuck out her tongue as he took a bite of his cookie, grumbling something incoherent she couldn’t quite make out between chews. She figured it was about her diet comment and wrinkled her nose with a funny expression, then moved along the line, before turning to Peter confused. “Why are we in line? And for what exactly? What if this is leading us to be sold for parts?” She started to think of a dozen possibilities for the growing line they were in and tried to peer over the sea of heads with the help of her own feet.

She stood on her toes, using Peter for balance and craned her neck out in hopes of spotting any clues as to what the line was actually for. “There's a ticket booth…,” She announced, seeing the customers near an entrance of sorts, stop at the worn out structure near it. A crooked sign hung up above it with a drawing of an object she couldn’t put into detail. From their distance it looked like a misshapen vehicle. “I think this line is for a race?” Moaning a bit over her sprained toes, Malia snaked her arms around Peter’s neck and giggled as she let her feet lay normally on the ground again.

‘She should make him carry her,’ She thought to herself, leaning her head on his shoulders and maneuvering her hands back around his forearm. She closed her brown eyes for a minute or two amidst the alien chatter about her and spoke once the line started to move forward again. “Before, when we were in Karla's closet, why did you ask when we were going to kiss again?” She wondered. “You do know, and I know you know, that you can just kiss me whenever, right?” She added, curious to know his answer. Sometimes she felt a little self conscious putting the moves on the Legendary Star Lord.

Peter had to think to recall his flirtatious question from that night, and then think even harder to give a suitable answer to Malia's question. That whole night was really just a jumbled mess of happy memories in his head, so focusing on one thing he barely remembered saying was a task, let alone why he'd said it. He couldn't help but chuckle at the expectant look Mal was giving him over her out of the blue inquiry. "Geez, Mal. Way to put me on the spot." Peter cocked his head, piecing his reply together. "I guess I was just still adjusting to the fact that we were a thing. I'd wanted that for so long that when it happened I could barely wrap my head around it."

Peter moved forward as the line progressed, making sure Mal stayed with him so as not to lose her in the crowd. "There was so much I felt like I needed to and wanted to say to make up for all that time I hadn't said anything. But, I couldn't get any of those thoughts straight, so I just asked you that." Peter caught her eyes and gave her a small smile. "Still feels like there's a lot I should tell you." He racked his brain, trying to grab one of those restless thoughts he'd mentioned. Of course, the first to come up was embarrassing, but he figured he'd share it anyway. "Way back when I was taking you back to earth and thought you were staying there, I used to get drunk and listen to crappy love songs while thinking about you. This one time I actually made-'' Peter cut himself off, remembering the long lost and forgotten mixtape he'd made her during one such drunken stupor. He shook his head, deciding to save that embarrassing story for another time. "Nevermind."

Malia lifted her head up to Peter and raised the corners of her mouth into a smile with a look of realization settling across her face. She remembered the said tape, tucked away in her underwear drawer. 'So, that's what it was,' She quietly confirmed to herself as the line advanced forward, causing her to take a momentary pause. He was thinking of her even way back then? Like she was. Holding her gaze forward while she savored the heartwarming thought, she continued to grin, feeling the light flutter of her stomach. "You, Peter Quill," She gushed amidst the unexpected chatter of the crowd, "are a certified dork."

Turning her attention once more toward him with an expression of glee, Malia tapped the side of his face with her lips and stared at him. She found it strange how much she wanted to say, 'I love you,' with each passing conversation and cover his face with kisses whenever she could. To make up for lost time, for the many occasions she in the past wanted to show him her genuine affection. "My Space man, or better yet, my Star-Lord?" She suggested, taking in his adorable expression of bewilderment with the smile that never left her. She liked the sound of that. Her Star-Lord. As she opened her mouth to speak, an abrupt bang shifted her attention over to the line.

"I said, fifty units, each." Marked with an irritated scowl plastered across his tainted yellow skin, sat the ticket master in his booth, awaiting his pay. He lowered the metal pipe he held from the barred window and leaned forward in his chair. "Or are you two just here to give us a show?" He grudgingly asked, maneuvering his red eyes over them to his customers behind, who seemed just as agitated when Malia glanced in their direction. ‘Since when had they gotten to the front of the line?’ She wondered in a daze as she sheepishly bowed her head toward the crowd and approached the window alongside Peter. “Sorry,” She mumbled.

“Fifty units, each, people,” The ticketer repeated, ignoring her apology. He pointed a finger at the both of them, pretending to be a clock and locked eyes with Peter as he dug around his pocket for the payment and practically slammed the coins against the booth’s small window desk once found. “Thank you! NEXT.” Dispensing two casino styled tokens from a hatch that opened beneath the barred glass, Malia quickly scooped up the metal and shuffled herself forward. “What a douche,” She blurted out, moving the ripped curtains out of the way as she walked down the entrance. And she thought New York was riddled with mannerless pricks. She hadn’t met not one nice alien yet.

Peter nodded in agreement with Malia's assessment of the alien running the ticket booth. His mind soon wandered to the miniscule amount of units he had left. What was on him was all they had. He glanced at the chip in his hand, turning it over. A race, huh? Maybe he could place a bet or two. He looked up as the crowd dispersed to makeshift stands built from what looked to be scrap metal. Ahead of them some floating wrecks of vehicles hovered above the cracked stone of the ground. "I think we found that shadiness we needed. "

Malia nodded as she leaned closer to him to allow a large alien to lumber past. "This looks like Mad Max... or that Death Race movie. You know, with..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to take in their decrepit surroundings. "You know, I kinda forget just how not normal my life is most of the time. But then at times like these it really just hits me," She looked up at Peter, an amused smile across her face. "I'm not in Kansas anymore."

Peter threw up his brow, actually recognizing one of her references for a change. "No, you're a far cry from your kind of normal. You miss it?"

Malia wrinkled her nose. "Not for a second." She once again turned her attention to the area around them. " So, what's the plan? "

Peter furrowed his brow as he scanned the crowd. "Look for leads on work, place a careful bet or two. We only need enough units to restock on food for now... unless we see something fun to buy, obviously. " He glanced at Malia, a thought crossing his mind. All the times he'd called her his partner without ever really showing her he believed in her. That'd been a shift between them he was still adjusting to, having been more or less her protector for so long. She'd asked him a few times to trust her more to help, and this seemed like a good time to show her he did. Peter reached into his pocket, pulling out half of their remaining units and holding them out to Malia. "Here. We'll find something quicker if we split up. You have a communicator, right?"

“Yes,” Malia dug inside her pocket to retrieve the earpiece Peter mentioned and gingerly placed it behind her ear with a firm nod as the crescent shaped metal beeped in confirmation. She trickled half of the units he held out for her in its place and patted the leather area to hear the coins. “Um,” She paused to look up at him in thought over what to say and pointed to her communicator when only the obvious was left. “If anything goes wrong, let me know.” She advised, remembering the time when she saved him from the Nova Cell.

“Or don’t,” She added with a playful chuckle, “So, I have enough time to run away.”

She leaned herself into him for a bit, placing her hands above his chest and kissed his cheek for personal good luck. Giving him a soft push forward afterward, Malia turned on her heels and randomly picked a direction while she stood next him. “I’m going to go that way,” She pointed to the left section of the stadium-esque arena and started to tread in the decided direction with exaggerated confidence. Midway, she glanced over her shoulder and winked at Peter, before blending in with the passing crowd, a smile forming on her lips.

‘Place a bet, make a killing, not literally — and earn some money.’ That was their goal, one she hoped was smoothly accomplished. But, judging by the brow-raising citizens of Saakar around the race track, that could prove to be a bit difficult. So, she had to…? Test the murky alien waters. Drifting her brown eyes over the various groups of sellers, gamblers and vagabonds that roamed the metal assorted stadium, Malia pulled her hair into a high ponytail, catching the unexpected attention of a man wearing a bandana.

He stared at her from the herd of individuals he was part of, a white furred woman and cybernetic looking man, with a suggestive smirk placed across his moustached lips. It alone sent a shiver down her spine as the strip of hair above his mouth reminded her of Peter’s short-lived stache-lord persona. 'What was with this Tom Selleck facial hair infatuation?’ She wondered, not fully understanding the craze. She furrowed her brows once she noticed the stranger’s continued gaze and cautiously slipped her hands inside her pockets.

As he approached her, going in the opposite direction, she gripped the handle of her engraved barbecue fork, grateful she brought it along. She never did leave the Milano without it, the gift sort of becoming an odd weapon of choice of hers. She knew a two pointed piece of cutlery couldn’t lethally harm anyone, but it'd injure them at least. Shifting herself closer to one side as his figure drew closer to pass, Malia looked directly into his eyes and pursed her lips into a tight line. She furrowed her brows downward then narrowed her own eyes.

There was just something about this guy she didn’t quite like. His whole aura gave off too many shady vibes. And not the kind her and Peter were looking for. More of the ones you stay away from. Once he came to pass, his smirk changed to a small smile at the suspicious expression she held for him to catch, turning his head forward with an amused laugh. ‘What's so funny?’ She threw him a daggered glare as he slowly blended himself within a mixed crowd, making her come to a stop. He was heading in Peter’s direction.

Touching the back of her ear to activate her communicator, Malia continued her stalled walk and puffed up her cheeks for a minute, before releasing the air in them. Whoever that stranger was irked her. It was like he knew what she was up to by the way he looked at her. “Peter?” She called out, careful not to draw too much attention to herself. “There’s a real shady guy heading your way. Has a bandana on.” She expressed, hoping he heard her amidst the roaring noise of the ongoing race and attendees around her. She at least had to warn him. Especially with the gut wrenching feeling she felt.

Peter put a finger in one ear and cupped a hand over the other. "I didn't quite catch that, babe. What did you say?" He shot an annoyed look at the noisy crowd and even noisier race before making his way to an isolated corner. "Hey, can you hear me?" Peter tapped his communicator a few times for good measure, somewhat regretting his choice to show Mal his confidence in her. His eyes scanned the crowd in the direction she'd walked off in, trying to at least catch a glimpse of her. Hopefully the communicators were in working order and it was just the noise. Maybe she'd gotten distracted? That wasn't unusual for her. Peter tried to think of something that would get her attention if that was the case. "Hey, Mal. You remember that time when you were in that vent and I touched your butt by accident? Not an accident. "

There was a few seconds of silence before Mal's voice answered. "What? I could barely hear you."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief before letting out a chuckle. "Nothing important. I'll tell you later."

Malia grunted on the other end before letting out a soft curse. "Okay, but did you catch what I said about the shady looking guy headed your way? Something didn't feel right about him, Peter."

Peter glanced around momentarily, not really sure what he was looking for. "Gonna need some more details then 'shady looking', babe. Everyone here fits that bill."

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is that the legendary Star-Lord?"

Peter paused as the unfamiliar voice behind him practically sang the question. He turned around to look at the man before him. The man's shoulder length black hair was tied up in a ratty looking blue bandana. He wore a red jumpsuit with various pouches and other such items strapped about here and there. On one hip he had a blaster, and in the other was, bafflingly, a cutlass. "Mal, I'll talk to you in a minute." Peter lowered his finger from his ear, keeping his eyes on the man's own and not his enviable mustache. "Depends on who's asking."

The man raised his brow, a smirk crossing his face. "I'm Corsair."

Peter threw up his brow as he recognized the name. "Corsair? The pirate?"

Corsair nodded, obviously pleased with the recognition. "The very same. What brings an outlaw such as yourself to Sakarr, Star-Lord?"

Peter didn't want to give this guy much information. He was, after all, a pirate. Peter knew better than to trust anyone that shared a line of work similar to his own. Corsair studied Peter with a close eye that made Peter uncomfortable. It felt like he was being sized up. Peter gave a nonchalant shrug. "Just a quick stop. No real reason."

Corsair nodded, looking around at the crowd. "Well, you picked a pretty dangerous place to stop considering your wanted status." The privateer locked eyes with Peter on that last word, narrowing him just a bit. "Somebody might just wanna grab that reward."

Peter's hand instinctively moved to hover above his blaster. While he was willing to do it, he didn't want to kill this guy and throw the place into chaos with Malia still in the crowd somewhere. She could handle herself, but finding her and getting away may prove difficult after. "Listen, Cap'n, I'd rather not do this."

Corsair held his arms open. "Go ahead. It'll make things more fun. But, don't forget that unlike you..." Some motion behind Peter drew his attention for just a moment. It was only long enough to note the two armed individuals that stood behind Peter on either side of him. Peter returned his attention to Corsair, his heart rate quickening in the familiar way it did before a fight. "I still have a team."

#peter quill #peter quill fanfiction #starlord #gotg #star-lord #guardians of the galaxy #marvel #misadventures #the misadventures of starlord and the earth girl

2 notes · View notes