nostalgiabomb | open post, vol. 2

[ And Yondu seems to pause, running this information over. He smiles, sharp and toothy and knowing. ]

Well, you may be in luck, seein' as how I happen to have both of those things on the payroll.

But you've got a reputation, girl, and so does your father. So this just begs the question: your father's usual men won't do, because...?

Because they work for my father.

[ And the ones she knows, that she's made contact with, all lead back to Thanos, one way or another. ]

And I want to get as far away from him as possible.

[ Yondu lets out a low whistle, shifting his weight to rest an ankle on his knee. ]

Well, now. I can see why my boy, here, is with you. [ This, with a nod toward Peter. ] Seems like he's attracted to disloyalty. Little wonder, considerin' he's a faithless little bastard.

[ Peter lets out an exasperated huff, but beyond that, he holds his tongue. ]

These "connections" don't come cheap, sweetheart. And the way I understand it, you get by on your father's money. If you don't want this gettin' back to daddy, I dunno how you intend on payin' me.

I'm not seein' how this is worth my while, so far.

[ A muscle twitches in her jaw, the smallest flinch that she smothers instantly.

Disloyal. Faithless.

Words she's turned over in her own mind for years. ]

I have money that I've kept unconnected to his funds.

But Peter said you expect favors, and you know the skills I possess – so whatever you want, I can see to it that it happens.

[ An infinitely flexible IOU from Gamora. ]

[ Yondu's gaze slides over to Peter. ]

He told you that, did he?

[ Peter, at least, doesn't look intimidated, holding Yondu's gaze until the guy finally turns back to Gamora. ]

Now, I dunno how you think we operate, Ms. Gamora, but we don't deal in blood.

Yeah. You deal in drugs and stolen cars. You guys are practically saints.

[ Yondu glares at Peter who responds with a shrug that somehow manages to be sarcastic. ]

We don't deal in blood. 'Least, not unless we're forced to defend ourselves. So I'm hopin' you're not suggestin' you'll go out and slit someone's throat on my behalf.

He mentioned that, yes.

[ And Gamora isn't heartbroken over it. ]

But I'm good at what I do because I'm capable of more than slitting throats.

[ Yondu studies her again, lips parting and jaw shifting to one side as he thinks.

Then, he leans forward, elbows resting on the table and hands clasping together. ]

What brought you to LA?

[ The way Yondu studies her is unnerving, those questions unsettling her, because telling him more shows too much of her hand, when she makes a habit of playing everything close to the chest.

But—

Right now, he's her best option. ]

Work for my father – someone he wanted terminated.

[ The usual job – aside from the general intimidation. ]

And how much longer do you plan on staying in town?

'Cause you promisin' this favor don't do me much good if you're back in New York before I can call it in.

Until the end of the week – or until my father deploys me elsewhere, if I decide to stay longer. He has nothing lined up that will bring me back to New York immediately.

[ He lets out a low, thoughtful hum, nodding once. ]

I suppose we may be able to work out a deal, so long as you've got no qualms about robbin' someone blind.

[ Finally, a hint of tension bleeds out of Gamora as relief sings through her. ]

None at all.

[ She assumes she won’t be stealing from someone who can’t afford to lose a chunk of change, as opposed to some down-on-their-luck family. ]

What did you have in mind?

'Bout five months back, member of my team didn't like how things were bein' run.

[ Yondu's gaze flits to Peter, daring him to respond. For his part, Peter only offers a bland look that seems to say, What a surprise. ]

Thought we could stand to do things a little more ruthlessly, not unlike how your father likes to run things. So Taserface broke off, decided to start his own little gang. He and his new friends call themselves Overkill, and they've been encroachin' on my territory.

[ Peter snorts out a laugh. ] Seriously? You couldn't keep a grip on Taserface?

[ Once again, Yondu ignores Peter. ]

I'd like for them to be knocked down a few pegs. Steal their goods or destroy it all, I ain't picky on which. Good as my guys are, I'd rather send in someone unaffiliated, on the off-chance of them gettin' caught.

[ Yondu leans back again, one elbow resting on the back of the couch. ]

Seein' as how Mr. Quill has been so helpful so far, once I get more details, I can send it along to him.

[ ... Taserface. Of course the guy’s name is Taserface.

But as far as requests Yondu could have made, this sounds perfectly reasonable. She needs to do it soon (as soon as her recovery will allow), but...

This might be her way out. The idea almost leaves her breathless. ]

Consider it done.

[ That just leaves... ]

And I assume you’ll pass along necessary contact information for my needs.

[ She also assumes Yondu will ensure Gamora can’t get her hands on what she needs until she’s finished his “favor,” but just knowing it’s in the works, that a clean escape is a feasible reality, is enough for her. ]

You come see me once the work is done, and I'll have what you want. You don't get nothin' sooner than that.

[ Yondu flashes her another sharp smile. ]

I'm lookin' forward to doin' business with you, Ms. Gamora.

And Quill? [ His gaze slides to Peter again. ] After this business is done, I don't see you again unless you're grovelin' on your hands and knees. I figure that comes easy to you, these days, considerin' how often you're goin' down for a handful of bucks.

[ Peter bristles, but considering the tenuous truce they've reached, he keeps his responses to himself. ]

Good. Now, so long as we're all in agreement, Ms. Gamora, if you could get this sorry bastard out of my goddamn club, I'd deeply appreciate it. If I spend one more second looking at that ugly mug, I may fly into a blind rage.

[ Yondu whistles sharply, and the other Ravagers move aside, letting the two of them pass. Kraglin offers them both a nod, apparently standing down as well. ]

[ That’s good enough for Gamora. Her eyes narrow as Yondu snaps at Peter, but like Peter, she keeps her mouth shut. As they’ve been dismissed, Gamora gives Yondu a polite nod, then turns on her heel to head for the stairs again. Her fingers brush over the back of Peter’s hand, before she takes the lead back downstairs and to the exit of the club.

Her side is throbbing angrily by now, and the threat of lightheadedness looms on the periphery of her awareness, but she’s determined to get back to the car. At least, that’s the case until she steps out into the chilly LA night, and all of the tension she’d been determinedly holding in her frame starts to go lax. Her pace slows, and some of the rigid set in her shoulders fades away.

She’s exhausted. ]

[ Peter is seething as they leave, cheeks red with embarrassment and anger. He ignores the jeering looks his old teammates cast them as they make their way out, keeping his gaze focused on the exit.

He only relaxes once the door swings shut behind them. The bouncer glances at them, indifferent, before returning to the bright screen of his phone.

Furious as he is, he still notices the way Gamora slows – not quite swaying, but something close – and he carefully wraps an arm around her waist, his other hand taking hold of her elbow to help support her. ]

Hey, just relax. Take it easy.

[ Almost unconsciously, Gamora sinks against Peter when his arm comes around her. ]

I’m all right.

[ Not “fine,” because that’s a complete lie. ]

I just want to get back to the hotel.

Yeah, okay.

[ He lifts his head, taking a wary glance around. Part of him expects one of his old teammates to follow them out. He never did get along with most of them. He expects a small part of that was jealousy, considering he could run circles around them on a job.

He also expects a small part of that was and is because he has the capacity to be a complete asshole.

For now, they're mostly alone on the street, save for the uninterested doorman. Peter still pitches his voice low, nonetheless. ]

You gonna be able to make the walk?

Yes.

[ It’s not a fun walk, but at least it’s not far. She’s confident she can handle that. To emphasize it, she starts moving forward again, still leaning against Peter. ]

[ He looks at her uncertainly, worried in spite of her reassurance. ]

Maybe you shouldn't strain yourself. I can bring the car around, if you want.

[ Gamora shakes her head insistently, taking a few more determined steps forward. ]

I can manage, Peter. I'll rest when we get back to the room.

You really shouldn't be moving around this much.

[ Peter takes one more careful glance around before letting out a breath.

Then, with a quick warning— ]

Hang on.

[ He carefully scoops her up, one arm beneath the backs of her knees, the other around her back. ]

Peter—

[ But she doesn't try to jerk away from him before he's scooping her up.

(It strains her body less than just trying to keep walking to the car, at least.)

Her weight rests against his chest, her fingers coming up to curl in his rumpled shirt. ]

I said I can manage.

Yeah. You did.

[ And thanks to years with Yondu's gang and his time more recently in his current job, he's used to dealing with a certain amount of bravado.

He adjusts briefly before setting off toward the car. ]

Just 'cause you can manage doesn't mean you should. And you've already been on your feet for way longer than you should've been.

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