[ Maybe Peter should've expected another surprise waiting in the wings, but he didn't. He had fully expected the line of questioning to end with that last question.
This one, at least, is easier to answer; talking about his music is always the easiest thing in the world. ]
"Fooled Around and Fell in Love." "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." "Bring it on Home to Me." Those are from clones of my old tapes.
From the Zune, "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. "And I Love You So." "Drift Away."
You had a soft spot for "The Rubberband Man," too.
[ "You," instead of "she," though he doesn't notice the slip up. ]
[ She knows the first song (she remembers him telling her to look for it, the very first time she listened to his Zune). The others sound... romantic, sweet in a way she has no concept of. She wonders if his Gamora liked those songs so much because she connected to them. She wonders if his Gamora knew the love and warmth carried in those lyrics personally.
She must have.
It's so wildly disconcerting to think that Gamora – in some universe, in some way – had all of these experiences. The Gamora of this world had found such a loyal family, had fallen in love, had seen the universe through the eyes of a free woman.
Gamora, in the here and now, worries that means she might not get the chance. This isn't her own time or her own life, and she feels like she's been dropped into the empty slot left behind by a version of herself that's already lived a life more full than she could have dreamed.
Does she feel jealous? Cheated? Or does she feel vulnerable and exposed in an environment where her insecurities and fears have already been shared, whether she wanted them to be or not?
It's complicated.
She looks over at Peter properly with that little slip, that change in pronoun.
What, we don't wanna keep wandering through ABBA's greatest hits?
[ Though even as he asks it, he's leveraging himself up to his feet, the movement a little more conservative than before to keep himself from jarring anything again. ]
It's about someone in an on again, off again relationship. They break up but end up getting back together despite all the bad shit they put each other through, 'cause the singer is just crazy about the other person.
[ He's quiet for a second, wondering if it sounds like he's hinting.
(He isn't. But maybe he is. But he doesn't mean to be.)
[ There's a note of familiarity that Gamora can hear in the way Peter describes the song, but with the current circumstances—
She chooses to ignore it.
The low beat of the next song cuts in, and Gamora straightens up to listen. It eases in more than "Dancin' Queen," but again, her fingers start to tap along, her head cocked to the side.
After a few mentions, she finally looks back at Peter. ]
[ Gamora gives him a somewhat appraising, pointed look. Not that she would ever call Peter an awesome badass, but the way he'd come after her, the weeks she's spent with the Guardians, has shown her that Peter is more than his jokes.
He's far more competent than Nebula would ever admit, but that's just another thing Gamora would be unlikely to share with him. ]
[ He thinks he should probably correct her on the "hero" front. The song isn't exactly a folk tale, but maybe it's a cultural thing? He never really asked because Gamora eventually realized that songs from Earth could seriously be about some really random shit.
After a second, he decides to let it lie and nods. ]
Yeah, something like that. Plus, even if he looked ridiculous, no one could really say it didn't work out, you know?
[ For a moment of prolonged silence, Gamora just looks at Peter. Her eyes flick from his face to his hand and back to his face.
The fact that she isn't immediately turning him down is telling, and she's genuinely considering the offer.
Her lips part to speak, then close again. After another short beat, she reaches out and takes his hand, getting to her feet. She gives a little nod forward to say "lead the way." ]
[ Part of him is a little surprised that she takes him up on the offer.
But he shouldn't be. The old Gamora had eventually caved in – either in an attempt to humor him, or trying to seem like she was humoring him as a cover. Still, a small part of him wondered if this Gamora would resist, just in an attempt to set herself apart.
He guides her away from their seats into a more open space. ]
It's not hard. You just kinda move in time with the beat.
[ And he demonstrates with an easy little two-step. ]
I know you've got rhythm part down. I've seen you tapping in time with the music.
[ Gamora doesn't fight him as he leads her out to the open floor, still letting her hand rest in his as he demonstrates that first little back-and-forth. She gives him a slightly less impressed glance for mentioning her tapping, but she also hadn't necessarily been trying to hide it.
She just didn't want it mentioned.
For a few seconds, she watches Peter's feet move, then mirrors the same with her own – hesitant, but still fairly graceful. ]
"Funny" in the sort of way that means it feels like someone has scooped out his innards and stomped all over them.
In the grand scheme of things? Treading on his foot is hardly anything. He's been shot before, been stabbed before, been tortured before. But the words, the circumstance, the memory, hurts like a thousand needles.
He stops, feeling his mouth go dry, and he clears his throat.
[ It's impossible to miss how his smile drops away, how he freezes like she's just driven a knife between his ribs. His voice has lost its light humor, and Gamora feels struck by some unexpected weight, the empty presence of the person Peter wanted to be here instead.
Her fingers curl at her side where she'd held Peter's hand for that brief moment, and she takes a few more steps back, leaving a handful of feet that might as well be an impossibly deep chasm between them. ]
It's late.
[ Her tone isn't cold or unkind – just flat, matter-of-fact. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
This one, at least, is easier to answer; talking about his music is always the easiest thing in the world. ]
"Fooled Around and Fell in Love." "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." "Bring it on Home to Me." Those are from clones of my old tapes.
From the Zune, "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. "And I Love You So." "Drift Away."
You had a soft spot for "The Rubberband Man," too.
[ "You," instead of "she," though he doesn't notice the slip up. ]
no subject
She must have.
It's so wildly disconcerting to think that Gamora – in some universe, in some way – had all of these experiences. The Gamora of this world had found such a loyal family, had fallen in love, had seen the universe through the eyes of a free woman.
Gamora, in the here and now, worries that means she might not get the chance. This isn't her own time or her own life, and she feels like she's been dropped into the empty slot left behind by a version of herself that's already lived a life more full than she could have dreamed.
Does she feel jealous? Cheated? Or does she feel vulnerable and exposed in an environment where her insecurities and fears have already been shared, whether she wanted them to be or not?
It's complicated.
She looks over at Peter properly with that little slip, that change in pronoun.
"You." ]
Play that one next.
no subject
[ Though even as he asks it, he's leveraging himself up to his feet, the movement a little more conservative than before to keep himself from jarring anything again. ]
"Mamma Mia" isn't too far off.
no subject
[ The way she repeats it easily gives away how ridiculous that sounds to her.
... Not like "Rubber Band Man" seems any less silly, but.
She watches Peter move – subtle, but intent. He at least seems to be more careful, this time. ]
no subject
[ And he plays up the defensiveness to an exaggerated degree, heading over to the Zune. He's navigating the screens when he offers, ]
It's a good song.
no subject
[ Gamora doesn't sound convinced. ]
no subject
[ He's quiet for a second, wondering if it sounds like he's hinting.
(He isn't. But maybe he is. But he doesn't mean to be.)
Then, he quickly puts on "The Rubber Band Man." ]
no subject
She chooses to ignore it.
The low beat of the next song cuts in, and Gamora straightens up to listen. It eases in more than "Dancin' Queen," but again, her fingers start to tap along, her head cocked to the side.
After a few mentions, she finally looks back at Peter. ]
Are rubberband men common on Terra?
no subject
No, not really.
[ He jerks a thumb toward the Zune. ]
Pretty sure it was just the one.
no subject
[ This Gamora, obviously, has never heard the legend of Kevin Bacon. ]
no subject
Sort of. He's kind of, like, the poster child for how looks can be deceiving. A guy who looks and acts silly, but is actually an awesome badass.
no subject
He's far more competent than Nebula would ever admit, but that's just another thing Gamora would be unlikely to share with him. ]
So he was like a hero, even when he acted absurd.
no subject
After a second, he decides to let it lie and nods. ]
Yeah, something like that. Plus, even if he looked ridiculous, no one could really say it didn't work out, you know?
no subject
As the song plays on, the faintest hint of a smile tugs briefly at her lips. ]
I think I see why she liked this.
no subject
no subject
I do not know about the last part.
no subject
Wanna give it a shot?
no subject
The fact that she isn't immediately turning him down is telling, and she's genuinely considering the offer.
Her lips part to speak, then close again. After another short beat, she reaches out and takes his hand, getting to her feet. She gives a little nod forward to say "lead the way." ]
no subject
But he shouldn't be. The old Gamora had eventually caved in – either in an attempt to humor him, or trying to seem like she was humoring him as a cover. Still, a small part of him wondered if this Gamora would resist, just in an attempt to set herself apart.
He guides her away from their seats into a more open space. ]
It's not hard. You just kinda move in time with the beat.
[ And he demonstrates with an easy little two-step. ]
I know you've got rhythm part down. I've seen you tapping in time with the music.
no subject
She just didn't want it mentioned.
For a few seconds, she watches Peter's feet move, then mirrors the same with her own – hesitant, but still fairly graceful. ]
And you do this because it's fun.
no subject
[ Simple as that. ]
It's fun. It's a good way to express yourself. It's a good way to show you're enjoying the music.
I guess if you wanna be practical about it, it's a good form of exercise, too, that doesn't end up with anyone wheezing on the floor.
no subject
[ She sounds completely convinced, too, as she keeps moving with Peter—
— until she steps on his foot.
Gamora quickly backs up, dropping Peter's hand with a displeased frown. She doesn't apologize (never her strong suit). ]
I told you I don't dance.
no subject
"Funny" in the sort of way that means it feels like someone has scooped out his innards and stomped all over them.
In the grand scheme of things? Treading on his foot is hardly anything. He's been shot before, been stabbed before, been tortured before. But the words, the circumstance, the memory, hurts like a thousand needles.
He stops, feeling his mouth go dry, and he clears his throat.
Hoarsely, ]
It's fine. Hardly felt a thing.
no subject
Her fingers curl at her side where she'd held Peter's hand for that brief moment, and she takes a few more steps back, leaving a handful of feet that might as well be an impossibly deep chasm between them. ]
It's late.
[ Her tone isn't cold or unkind – just flat, matter-of-fact. ]
You should be resting for tomorrow.
no subject
Sorry. It's fine, seriously. I just—
[ He waves a hand, the gesture slow and a little helpless. ]
Deja vu.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)