[ Some half-remembered quote comes to mind: I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse.
He can't help but breathe out a quiet, rueful laugh. ]
Only if there's a legitimate reason.
I'm sure your Peter Quill wouldn't appreciate your taking me sight-seeing, especially not if he's as anxious to return as you all are to have him back.
[ The answer is easily given; he doesn't have any doubts, honestly. His team isn't too dissimilar from this universe's Guardians – save for the woman across from him, obviously. But the Gamora he knows has always had an altruistic streak, for as much as he accuses her of pride and selfishness. ]
They may be wary of him, but I don't doubt he'll be treated— [ Ah, and here he hesitates. He was going to say, "treated well," but considering his team, considering the abrasive personalities contained therein, that's a topic worthy of debate.
He corrects, ] He'll be treated as well as you expect.
[ That's the answer Gamora was ultimately hoping for. She would never expect full and thoughtless hospitality to be offered to Peter in that other universe, but she does expect him to return whole and hale. ]
Good enough.
[ If Peter causes trouble? Sure, he's got it coming. But if he can play nice with the other children long enough to get back to Gamora, she'll consider that a win. ]
[ His tone is certain, unequivocal, where the other Peter might try for gentle, for sympathetic. ]
Gamora— the Gamora I know, I mean, is well-connected. She and Rocket will think of something.
[ The Ravager network is vast and far-reaching, after all. He can think of at least one of its members who's capable of wielding magic, even if he can't recall his name. ]
[ While there's none of the familiar comfort Gamora might usually find in her Peter, something about this Quill's certainty is equally a balm on her nerves. ]
You have a lot of faith in her.
[ It's not exactly an exposing observation, considering how much she's accidentally tipped her own hand thus far. She's not so wrapped in her own pride that she believes she's maintained an air of aloofness with this man; she's too off-kilter for a million different reasons to convincingly act like she's above the emotional ramifications of this hiccup.]
[ Simple as that, and as succinct as the response is, there's resolve in it, too, and just the barest edge of fondness.
Even if he can think of about a dozen complaints regarding her character, her work ethic, her ability to focus, he knows that when something is important enough, she'll pull it together. She's led the Guardians through enough scraps to earn his loyalty – although, maybe not his unquestioning loyalty, because each Guardian is nothing but a contrarian.
A muscle in jaw tics, then, and when he speaks, there's a thread of humor in his voice. ]
I can't promise he'll return entirely sober.
[ The Guardians were so fond of drinking as a team-bonding activity, after all. ]
[ The light flicker of humor surprises Gamora enough to get a more genuine smile from her, but she ducks her gaze towards the wall to conceal it. Her own tone is, however, similarly hinting at a joke. ]
And he'll probably be better for it.
[ Maybe if he's drunk, he'll be a little less stressed while he's trapped in another dimension. ]
It sounds like they'll get along well.
[ They probably won't spend the first part of their acquaintance circling each other like dogs in a fighting pit, so that's bound to be a smoother transition. ]
[ The observation draws a reluctant huff from him, something that's amused at its edge. ]
All the more reason for me to get back. I fear for the integrity of the ship.
[ Peter has the unenviable task of tempering some of the other Guardians' more explosive instincts, after all. And with Rocket and Gamora left to their own devices—
Well. He'll be lucky if there's even a ship to return to.
He shakes his head, dismissing the thought, before glancing up at her again. ]
How did he— [ This, with a small gesture. No need to specify whom. ] —come to leave Earth?
[ Ah, how much to disclose here? Maybe just broad strokes. ]
He was abducted rather than rescued by Ravagers – a captain who was paid to retrieve him.
[ "By whom" might be a bit much for this Peter (even if Gamora realizes there's no guarantee this Quill also had Ego for a father). ]
Did—
[ Gamora starts asking her next question, but as she opens her mouth, the very distinct intro for "Come and Get Your Love" blasts over the ship speakers, and Gamora shoots right out of her seat. As the first lyrics kick in, Gamora recovers enough to snarl over the noise, ]
[ His eyes narrow slightly as she offers that bit of information; he vaguely remembers Ego telling him about hiring the Ravagers to transport Peter from Missouri to Ego's planet, only they had arrived too late.
The sudden noise has him similarly springing to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his sword.
It takes him a blink to register it as music.
It takes the same amount of time to register it as achingly familiar.
He falters briefly, expression going slack. His voice is little more than a croak when he finally speaks. ]
[ Gamora exhales a frustrated breath through her nose, her hackles finally settling as Rocket turns down the music (with some token muttering and griping she can hear a whole deck below). She looks back over at Peter, and it's only then that the reality – the true weight of another stark loss – becomes clearer for Gamora. The sheer volume of memories and keepsakes that her Peter has kept all these years feels as precious as gold when she realizes how much has been stolen from this man.
She rests her fingertips on the table (away from her sword), nodding once. ]
Clones of Meredith's music. [ And a rigged up Zune, but she imagines Peter would care a lot more about his mother's own favorites. ]
[ For a split second, he feels a strange twist behind his sternum. It's childish, he knows, but he immediately recognizes the bitter sensation as envy.
The universe was much kinder to this Peter Quill, it seems. He forces himself to quash the incipient resentment before it can fully take root.
He swallows around the dryness of his throat, and his gaze darts to the overhead, in the general direction of the flight deck, but he's focusing on something far, far away. ]
My mother made me tapes of the songs she loved growing up. I had the tape player on me the day Thanos' forces arrived.
[ Unconsciously, his hand tightens around the hilt of his sword – old anger, old fear. Once he notices what he's doing, he shakes himself and immediately makes an effort to loosen his grip, to let his hand drop to his side. ]
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He can't help but breathe out a quiet, rueful laugh. ]
Only if there's a legitimate reason.
I'm sure your Peter Quill wouldn't appreciate your taking me sight-seeing, especially not if he's as anxious to return as you all are to have him back.
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If there's a reason.
[ An easy agreement to make, though she wouldn't be surprised if their search takes them through the Milky Way.
She hesitates before asking, ]
Your team. Do you think they'll help him?
[ She'd be surprised if these other Guardians ditched Quill fully, but she's learned not to expect kindness as a default. ]
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[ The answer is easily given; he doesn't have any doubts, honestly. His team isn't too dissimilar from this universe's Guardians – save for the woman across from him, obviously. But the Gamora he knows has always had an altruistic streak, for as much as he accuses her of pride and selfishness. ]
They may be wary of him, but I don't doubt he'll be treated— [ Ah, and here he hesitates. He was going to say, "treated well," but considering his team, considering the abrasive personalities contained therein, that's a topic worthy of debate.
He corrects, ] He'll be treated as well as you expect.
They won't hurt him if he doesn't deserve it.
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Good enough.
[ If Peter causes trouble? Sure, he's got it coming. But if he can play nice with the other children long enough to get back to Gamora, she'll consider that a win. ]
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They'll look after him.
[ His tone is certain, unequivocal, where the other Peter might try for gentle, for sympathetic. ]
Gamora— the Gamora I know, I mean, is well-connected. She and Rocket will think of something.
[ The Ravager network is vast and far-reaching, after all. He can think of at least one of its members who's capable of wielding magic, even if he can't recall his name. ]
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You have a lot of faith in her.
[ It's not exactly an exposing observation, considering how much she's accidentally tipped her own hand thus far. She's not so wrapped in her own pride that she believes she's maintained an air of aloofness with this man; she's too off-kilter for a million different reasons to convincingly act like she's above the emotional ramifications of this hiccup.]
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I do.
[ Simple as that, and as succinct as the response is, there's resolve in it, too, and just the barest edge of fondness.
Even if he can think of about a dozen complaints regarding her character, her work ethic, her ability to focus, he knows that when something is important enough, she'll pull it together. She's led the Guardians through enough scraps to earn his loyalty – although, maybe not his unquestioning loyalty, because each Guardian is nothing but a contrarian.
A muscle in jaw tics, then, and when he speaks, there's a thread of humor in his voice. ]
I can't promise he'll return entirely sober.
[ The Guardians were so fond of drinking as a team-bonding activity, after all. ]
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And he'll probably be better for it.
[ Maybe if he's drunk, he'll be a little less stressed while he's trapped in another dimension. ]
It sounds like they'll get along well.
[ They probably won't spend the first part of their acquaintance circling each other like dogs in a fighting pit, so that's bound to be a smoother transition. ]
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All the more reason for me to get back. I fear for the integrity of the ship.
[ Peter has the unenviable task of tempering some of the other Guardians' more explosive instincts, after all. And with Rocket and Gamora left to their own devices—
Well. He'll be lucky if there's even a ship to return to.
He shakes his head, dismissing the thought, before glancing up at her again. ]
How did he— [ This, with a small gesture. No need to specify whom. ] —come to leave Earth?
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He was abducted rather than rescued by Ravagers – a captain who was paid to retrieve him.
[ "By whom" might be a bit much for this Peter (even if Gamora realizes there's no guarantee this Quill also had Ego for a father). ]
Did—
[ Gamora starts asking her next question, but as she opens her mouth, the very distinct intro for "Come and Get Your Love" blasts over the ship speakers, and Gamora shoots right out of her seat. As the first lyrics kick in, Gamora recovers enough to snarl over the noise, ]
Rocket! Turn it down!
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The sudden noise has him similarly springing to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his sword.
It takes him a blink to register it as music.
It takes the same amount of time to register it as achingly familiar.
He falters briefly, expression going slack. His voice is little more than a croak when he finally speaks. ]
... You have music from Earth.
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She rests her fingertips on the table (away from her sword), nodding once. ]
Clones of Meredith's music. [ And a rigged up Zune, but she imagines Peter would care a lot more about his mother's own favorites. ]
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The universe was much kinder to this Peter Quill, it seems. He forces himself to quash the incipient resentment before it can fully take root.
He swallows around the dryness of his throat, and his gaze darts to the overhead, in the general direction of the flight deck, but he's focusing on something far, far away. ]
My mother made me tapes of the songs she loved growing up. I had the tape player on me the day Thanos' forces arrived.
[ Unconsciously, his hand tightens around the hilt of his sword – old anger, old fear. Once he notices what he's doing, he shakes himself and immediately makes an effort to loosen his grip, to let his hand drop to his side. ]
A Chitauri foot soldier destroyed it.