Gamora initially prepares herself for them, braces herself for what had become so commonplace after their first encounter with N'Calo. The nightmares had been getting progressively worse, and she almost expects them to continue doing so, but— they don't. Even the nights spent in her own bunk instead of Peter's bed she finds to be no more dramatic than before, and she doesn't feel trapped, helpless, or weak again in her sleep. Bad dreams come and bad dreams go, but the terrors that had rooted themselves in her mind thanks to N'Calo's influence don't drag her into their depths again.
She's sure that it helps when she spends most of her nights in Peter's bed. She's taken to falling asleep there more often than her own bunk in the coming weeks (though a day or two will pass when she finds quiet and comfortable solitude in her own room). It's becoming... nearly a habit, after what approaches their second week since they dealt with N'Calo. She'd been doing it for longer before then, of course, after that night in the motel, but the difference now is that she no longer sneaks out before the day cycle arrives. Instead, she sleeps through the night, waking often before Peter or when he does, and she even seems content to lie with him for a few moments in his large bed, legs tangled together, fingers winding into his messy hair as she appreciates the way he looks with sleep still clinging to his eyes.
(Though his breath is atrocious, she informs him one morning, before she slides out of the bed to return to her own bunk and change into proper clothes.)
She likes it, she's discovered, and simply finds herself at ease around Peter, even in his bed. Without pressure or expectations, it's easy, but— She also realizes she has no idea what any of it means.
Talking still hasn't quite happened, but that's easy to attribute to the workload they suddenly find heaped onto them. The Nova Corps has work for them to see to, and a couple quick bounties prove to be too convenient to pass up. They work to make up for the time spent dealing with N'Calo and the units expended on all of their travel, and falling back into a rhythm happens with the same ease as always. Unfortunately, it always means that the team drags their carcasses back onto the ship after the second bounty of the week, and they're simply exhausted.
It leaves little time to discuss their situation when all either of them wants to do is collapse into bed.
... The biggest downside of neglecting such a conversation, however, is that Gamora isn't entirely sure what to make of what it all means, and she has no answers to offer when Mantis catches her leaving Peter's room one morning.
Mantis blinks wide, curious eyes at her as she pauses in the hall, looking between Gamora and the door to the captain's quarters. "Do you sleep in his room because you are together?" she asks, with an air of innocence that doesn't necessarily feel like prying.
Gamora pauses, seeming to consider her response, and then she simply frowns, shaking her head at Mantis. "It's... a thing." Not necessarily an unspoken thing, though she supposes it could once again be defined as such, because they haven't discussed this part of the thing. She has kissed him and they share a bed, but... what else it might mean still exists in that strange void of understanding, where she simply doesn't know how to define what they are or what boundaries might entail for them or what it all may build towards.
She knows that she wants more – whatever that may mean – but she still isn't entirely certain what Peter is looking for. There's been no insistence, no nudges in one direction or another, but she's also convinced that Peter knows by now to mind himself with her, whether for better or for worse. She feels no pressure to reach a decision, and though he's allowed her to come to it in her own time... she thinks she has, but she has no frame of reference, nothing to draw from to define it for herself.
She doesn't want to find herself neck-deep in something with hopes and expectations that Peter may not be interested in – and she also has no desire to ruin what they already have. Peter is her friend, her best friend, and the depth of that connection and intimacy is something she has never before known in her life. She would never trade it for something temporary or fleeting, when she feels most confident that the friendship itself is solid. This is a new variable, an unfamiliar twist in the schema of their interactions, and...
She doesn't want to get hurt.
And she doesn't want to hurt him.
Figuring all of this out, trying to be open about what they want – that's likely why they should have this conversation.
Sooner rather than later.
But in the manner that seems to be expected for the Guardians, things get in the way.
A job from the Nova Corps has them flying across the system to deal with some small-time drug dealer peddling something called Dust – an inhalant with the unfortunate guarantee to give the user a sudden burst of unreasonable strength and temporary invulnerability. Understandably, an inconvenience for the Nova Corps when it finds its way into the hands of criminals foolish enough to take the drug and commit whatever crimes they see fit.
Taking care of this particular drug dealer should be simple – which, as usual, is not a phrase that should ever enter the Guardians' vocabulary.
Peter and Gamora go in first. It means rousting the drug dealer from his safehouse, in the far reaches of some warehouse district on a Lorakian moon. Lorak itself isn't the most welcoming of planets, and its moons are nearly all industrial, built on factories and machinery, and so crowded and packed with steel that it makes for a convenient location to hide away in between stints of selling Dust. The dealer chose well, if Gamora were inclined to give him credit, but it also means that the cityscape made almost entirely of factories is packed tightly together with small streets and plenty of places to hide – and that makes their job difficult.
With Gamora covering Peter's back, they find themselves easing into a warehouse so quiet Gamora can hear the grinding of gears and firing of pistons literal buildings away.
It's quiet.
Too quiet.
Gamora is checking every potential corner, and then—
The shooting starts.
Gamora reaches out on instinct to grab Peter by the collar of his jacket and yank him behind cover, just as a rain of bullets peppers the ground where they were just standing. ]
And there's more of them.
[ She growls in annoyance as gunfire hits their cover from multiple angles, and instead of reaching for Godslayer, she swings around the rifle slung over her back. They're pinned down, and attempting to burst out of cover for melee combat would not be her best choice.
smears my face all over this post nbd
Gamora initially prepares herself for them, braces herself for what had become so commonplace after their first encounter with N'Calo. The nightmares had been getting progressively worse, and she almost expects them to continue doing so, but— they don't. Even the nights spent in her own bunk instead of Peter's bed she finds to be no more dramatic than before, and she doesn't feel trapped, helpless, or weak again in her sleep. Bad dreams come and bad dreams go, but the terrors that had rooted themselves in her mind thanks to N'Calo's influence don't drag her into their depths again.
She's sure that it helps when she spends most of her nights in Peter's bed. She's taken to falling asleep there more often than her own bunk in the coming weeks (though a day or two will pass when she finds quiet and comfortable solitude in her own room). It's becoming... nearly a habit, after what approaches their second week since they dealt with N'Calo. She'd been doing it for longer before then, of course, after that night in the motel, but the difference now is that she no longer sneaks out before the day cycle arrives. Instead, she sleeps through the night, waking often before Peter or when he does, and she even seems content to lie with him for a few moments in his large bed, legs tangled together, fingers winding into his messy hair as she appreciates the way he looks with sleep still clinging to his eyes.
(Though his breath is atrocious, she informs him one morning, before she slides out of the bed to return to her own bunk and change into proper clothes.)
She likes it, she's discovered, and simply finds herself at ease around Peter, even in his bed. Without pressure or expectations, it's easy, but— She also realizes she has no idea what any of it means.
Talking still hasn't quite happened, but that's easy to attribute to the workload they suddenly find heaped onto them. The Nova Corps has work for them to see to, and a couple quick bounties prove to be too convenient to pass up. They work to make up for the time spent dealing with N'Calo and the units expended on all of their travel, and falling back into a rhythm happens with the same ease as always. Unfortunately, it always means that the team drags their carcasses back onto the ship after the second bounty of the week, and they're simply exhausted.
It leaves little time to discuss their situation when all either of them wants to do is collapse into bed.
... The biggest downside of neglecting such a conversation, however, is that Gamora isn't entirely sure what to make of what it all means, and she has no answers to offer when Mantis catches her leaving Peter's room one morning.
Mantis blinks wide, curious eyes at her as she pauses in the hall, looking between Gamora and the door to the captain's quarters. "Do you sleep in his room because you are together?" she asks, with an air of innocence that doesn't necessarily feel like prying.
Gamora pauses, seeming to consider her response, and then she simply frowns, shaking her head at Mantis. "It's... a thing." Not necessarily an unspoken thing, though she supposes it could once again be defined as such, because they haven't discussed this part of the thing. She has kissed him and they share a bed, but... what else it might mean still exists in that strange void of understanding, where she simply doesn't know how to define what they are or what boundaries might entail for them or what it all may build towards.
She knows that she wants more – whatever that may mean – but she still isn't entirely certain what Peter is looking for. There's been no insistence, no nudges in one direction or another, but she's also convinced that Peter knows by now to mind himself with her, whether for better or for worse. She feels no pressure to reach a decision, and though he's allowed her to come to it in her own time... she thinks she has, but she has no frame of reference, nothing to draw from to define it for herself.
She doesn't want to find herself neck-deep in something with hopes and expectations that Peter may not be interested in – and she also has no desire to ruin what they already have. Peter is her friend, her best friend, and the depth of that connection and intimacy is something she has never before known in her life. She would never trade it for something temporary or fleeting, when she feels most confident that the friendship itself is solid. This is a new variable, an unfamiliar twist in the schema of their interactions, and...
She doesn't want to get hurt.
And she doesn't want to hurt him.
Figuring all of this out, trying to be open about what they want – that's likely why they should have this conversation.
Sooner rather than later.
But in the manner that seems to be expected for the Guardians, things get in the way.
A job from the Nova Corps has them flying across the system to deal with some small-time drug dealer peddling something called Dust – an inhalant with the unfortunate guarantee to give the user a sudden burst of unreasonable strength and temporary invulnerability. Understandably, an inconvenience for the Nova Corps when it finds its way into the hands of criminals foolish enough to take the drug and commit whatever crimes they see fit.
Taking care of this particular drug dealer should be simple – which, as usual, is not a phrase that should ever enter the Guardians' vocabulary.
Peter and Gamora go in first. It means rousting the drug dealer from his safehouse, in the far reaches of some warehouse district on a Lorakian moon. Lorak itself isn't the most welcoming of planets, and its moons are nearly all industrial, built on factories and machinery, and so crowded and packed with steel that it makes for a convenient location to hide away in between stints of selling Dust. The dealer chose well, if Gamora were inclined to give him credit, but it also means that the cityscape made almost entirely of factories is packed tightly together with small streets and plenty of places to hide – and that makes their job difficult.
With Gamora covering Peter's back, they find themselves easing into a warehouse so quiet Gamora can hear the grinding of gears and firing of pistons literal buildings away.
It's quiet.
Too quiet.
Gamora is checking every potential corner, and then—
The shooting starts.
Gamora reaches out on instinct to grab Peter by the collar of his jacket and yank him behind cover, just as a rain of bullets peppers the ground where they were just standing. ]
And there's more of them.
[ She growls in annoyance as gunfire hits their cover from multiple angles, and instead of reaching for Godslayer, she swings around the rifle slung over her back. They're pinned down, and attempting to burst out of cover for melee combat would not be her best choice.
Fortunately, they both do guns now. ]