[ He pauses midstep, turning to her and blinking. Truthfully, he had expected her to say no outright, to pull away and insist on lurking in dark hallways or something, but—
This is a surprise.
And his smile slowly spreads. ]
Really?
[ But apparently he doesn't see reason to tempt fate by waiting for an answer, so he carefully maneuvers them through the crowd and onto the dance floor.
The other dancers are doing little more than quietly swaying. Nothing fancy, thankfully, and the two of them easily slip into the crowd, claiming a space for themselves somewhere in the middle. He takes her hand, presses his other hand against her back, and moves to the music.
Sure enough, the dance floor does provide a clear view of most of the room, and scanning the area from here isn't nearly as conspicuous as standing in corners and searching. The quiet murmur of conversation surrounds them, and while Peter listens for a few seconds, nothing stands out. Business propositions and thoughts on the current political climate, and really a whole lot of shit Peter doesn't care about, so he tunes it out.
[ the dancing itself isn't demanding, more of a gentle motion than anything — especially compared to the slightly faster moves she'd attempted with peter before. this is simple, and the only thing about it that gives her pause is the fact that they aren't alone; she's never danced in front of others before, and only ever with peter for company. the part of her that still prickles with that need to maintain an air of unshakable, unaffected deadliness quails at the idea of being seen like this, but she forces it down, quiets it in favor of focusing on their surroundings.
(on peter's hand in hers, on the splay of his fingers on the bare skin of her back.)
the murmur of voices around them doesn't prove to be useful, yet, but the vantage is much more appealing than peering around from the fringes of the room.
...she'll at least give him that.
but when he speaks up again, his phrasing has her leveling him with one of those flat, somewhat exasperated looks. ]
Perhaps I should investigate that hall to our left instead.
[ but she's not stepping away from him as her hand stays in his, her other resting on his shoulder with her thumb brushing against skin where his neck meets the collar of his shirt. ]
[ She— probably doesn't mean to do that on purpose, brush against his bare skin like that, and it takes him a second to find his voice. Mostly he wants to make sure he doesn't sound like a complete dweeb when he speaks. ]
I mean, if you wanted to sneak off with me into a dark corner, you only have to ask.
What about a code phrase? Like, "Quill's an idiot, pass it on."
[ and there's that weird hissing laugh on rocket's end of the comm.
gamora just sighs, minutely shaking her head. ]
This is neither the time nor the place. If something requires attention, say so; we don't need code words.
No, but really, what about code phr—
Or phrases.
I seriously think we could—
Enough.
[ short, quiet because of the still-dancing couples around them, but sharp nonetheless.
there's some muttering on the other end of the comm, but nothing that gamora can pick out, so it seems that rocket is content to adhere to the call for radio silence.
[ The insult garners a quick, annoyed, "Hey," from Peter, but any arguments that might have sparked from the exchange are interrupted by Gamora's voice.
What follows is a few seconds of awkward silence, with everyone properly chagrined, Peter included. Eventually, he ventures quietly, ]
[ the comm line stays quiet for another beat, and then: ]
Dude on your guys' left — that shifty Kree in the red fancy suit thing. He keeps edgin' towards the stage.
[ gamora follows rocket's direction, her eyes falling on the kree as she and peter continue the quiet pace of the dance. she subtly nods towards the man, as she looks from the kree to peter and back again. ]
I see him.
[ the kree has his hand in his pocket, fiddling with something as he keeps moving closer to where the live band has been situated in the hall. he looks nervous, antsy almost in the way he rocks on his heels, pausing in between each measured approach to the stage. ]
[ Peter turns them slightly when Rocket points the man out, offering himself a slightly better view of the Kree. He frowns a little, murmurs, ]
Maybe he just wants to give them his demo tape.
[ Though even as he says it, he maneuvers the two of them slowly toward the stage – keeping in time with the music, unhurried so as not to draw attention. ]
[ gamora follows peter's lead, making the transition from one location to the next remarkably smooth in the slow sway of the dance; gamora has improved, after all, and there's more of an unhurried grace in the way she moves with peter (even managing to avoid stepping on his toes).
they draw closer, and gamora watches as the kree pulls something small from his pocket. she tenses, and her voice is still low, soft enough just for peter and the others over the comm. ]
[ Peter only just bites back the inclination to offer, "Maybe it's a garage door opener," before he lets out a slow breath, his hand tensing slightly at Gamora's back. ]
How do we do this? 'Cause if that is a detonator, I'm pretty sure us sacking him is just gonna get him to pull the trigger.
[ gamora is perfectly aware that peter is the more conversational of the two of them, more adept at simply approaching someone and drawing them into the way he talks; gamora can distract, certainly, but she's not as likely to be charming by words alone.
(or charming at all, really.)
but she also knows that peter is exceptionally good with his hands (when it comes to stealing things; she can't vouch for anything else), so that seems the more reasonable approach. ]
Would you guys hurry up already?
[ another roll of gamora's eyes, and when the song ends, she breaks away from peter — with one last brush of her thumb over his neck as they part. after, she's making her way towards the kree, pausing only to swipe a glass of wine from a passing server so she looks at least marginally less confrontational. she doesn't want to startle him into pressing the button or kick up his guard, if she can instead make herself seem like an interested party.
...she'd much rather just break his arm and grab the remote, but not only did that have the potential to go badly, but it would, at the very least, alarm the rest of the guests. ]
[ Peter similarly rolls his eyes as Rocket's voice sounds out over the comm again. ]
What happened to radio silence?
[ Is all he grumbles as the two of them step away, though he pauses at the brush of her skin against his; it was little more than a brief touch, and he tells himself not to read too much into it.
He skirts away through the crowd, moving away from the Kree. Now and again, he pauses on the edges of conversations, only half-listening as he tracks Gamora's movements toward their suspect. It helps to take his time to let Gamora fully distract the guy, and to avoid unwanted suspicion. He'll circle around to get at the Kree's back. ]
[ gamora is careful about approaching the kree, because she sincerely doesn't want to make him think he's being approached out of suspicion, doesn't want him running off before peter's even had the chance to get the remote away from him. the man immediately snaps to look at her when she comes close, halting in his tracks to give gamora a thorough once-over.
gamora doesn't stop until she comes up beside him, and she just offers a small (hopefully disarming) smile to the kree.
she notices the way his hand slips back into his pocket, tucking the detonator away as she speaks to him, as she gets him to stop his careful approach of the stage. there's tension in his posture, mistrust and something bordering on hostile, even as he manages a polite tone with her, as he turns his attention properly into the conversation itself.
she can see peter out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn't so much as glance his way as she manages up another smile for the kree; he even seems to relax minutely when she doesn't display any aggression, as she just stands and sips quietly at her drink as she listens to him.
it's that smile, though, wholly unlike the small ones she's given to peter, the one that's made its way to her face on occasion; here and now, it's completely lacking in anything genuine.
but it does the job well enough, keeps the kree's focus on her. ]
[ Completely unsupervised as Peter currently is, he briefly flirts with the idea of divesting a few folks here of their wallets, of their jewelry. It'd be so easy, he thinks, as he drifts through the crowds of the rich, famous, and influential. Surely they wouldn't miss a bracelet of precious gems? A purse of units?
But, no. He moves forward still, deciding that if anything went missing tonight, attention would probably promptly snap to him, the only mildly reformed thief. (But then again, as he usually does, maybe Peter is giving himself too much credit.)
He waits with a surprising amount of patience as Gamora makes polite conversation, as she smiles those empty smiles. Peter stands on the edge of another small crowd, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation. More tension eases out of the Kree's frame when he realizes Gamora isn't there to stop him from doing— whatever it was he was doing, and he finally moves his hand out of his pocket—
Without the detonator.
The two of them continue on with their conversation, and Peter continues to wait. A small group of people drift past, heading in that direction, and only when the last person crosses behind Peter does he finally break off from one group to join the next. He strikes up a mild sort of conversation with the woman beside him, cracks a joke about the dry canapes that seems to amuse her.
(She asks, "Don't I know you? I swear I've seen you somewhere before."
Peter shrugs and offers a self-deprecating sort of smile. "I just have one of those faces, you know?")
They wander slowly past Gamora and the Kree, the people ahead of them talking about something stuffy. Stock options or the political climate on Xanadu or something that Peter almost immediately zones out on that, thanks.
And Peter picks his moment, keeps his head slightly turned to the person beside him. He waits for the Kree to turn away a little, offer some vague gesture as he speaks, before Peter quickly dips his hand into the Kree's pocket, fishing out the device and slipping it into his own trouser pocket.
The man doesn't seem to notice (and neither does the woman), though Peter doesn't bother waiting around long enough to see if he will. He continues onward with the little crowd he had latched on to, offering only a quiet hum over their comms to indicate he had swiped the item. ]
[ gamora keeps tabs on peter as he makes his way to the kree — subtly, just barely when she can catch glimpses out of her periphery — and it's with some relief that she watches him stepping away again, as that little hum comes over the comm.
at least now she doesn't have to continue engaging the kree.
she excuses herself with some level of abruptness (because gamora is many things, but perfectly suited to social situations she is not), breaking away and leaving her barely-touched drink with another waiter. ]
Should we have the Nova Corps remove him?
[ spoken under her breath, just loud enough for the comm to pick up her voice.
of course, as soon as gamora has stepped away, the kree is reaching into his pocket again—
—only to realize that the detonator is gone.
he looks wildly around him, his narrowed eyes falling on gamora, and then the man is crossing the dance floor to follow her, pushing carelessly past partygoers. as he moves, he flicks his wrist, a small but incredibly sharp knife dropping into his palm. ]
Whoa, Gamora, incoming — on your six.
[ gamora spins on her heel as the kree comes up behind her, lashing out with the blade. she moves just quickly enough to avoid legitimate damage, but the knife grazes across her upper arm before she snaps her hands out, closing her fingers around his wrist and elbow to twist the limb in exactly the wrong way. he drops the knife with a yell, while the sounds of shock and alarm quickly start to spread through the crowd.
...exactly what gamora hoped to avoid.
(but at least the building hasn't gone up in flames, so this is a small consolation.) ]
[ Peter allows himself a quiet sigh of relief as he puts some distance between himself and the Kree, and each second that passes without the guy noticing is a blessing.
He steps away from his new friend with a lot more grace than Gamora manages, saying his goodbyes (and, surprisingly, turning down her offer to exchange contact information) before wandering back into the crowd.
Then the warning from Rocket, and Peter's gaze snaps toward the Kree charging toward Gamora. ]
Shit.
[ — is about all he manages to hiss out, though Gamora seems to have the situation well in hand.
—Except he sees the streak of blood running down her arm, and something in him goes cold.
There's a sudden surge of movement to his left as someone charges through the curious onlookers– definitely not a Nova Corpse officer, considering the lack of adherence to protocol and the non-standard issue blade that falls into his hand. Peter moves without thinking, zipping through the crowd to get at the Kree. Single-minded as that particular assailant's focus is, he doesn't notice Peter bearing down on him until he's an arm's length away—
And by then, it's too late, as Peter knocks him to the ground, yanking his blaster from the holster at his hip and aiming the barrel at the dazed Kree's temple. ]
Maybe don't move.
[ This, aimed down at the asshole whose chest he's currently straddling. Then, shouted over his shoulder to Gamora. ]
[ gamora twists the kree's arm again for another shriek, this time forcing him to his knees. she barely has time to register the additional kree bearing down on her before peter has him slammed into the ground, and gamora glances over to see peter aiming his blaster at the man's head. ]
Fine.
[ she calls it back to him, before her attention settles on the kree again — catching him just as he reaches for another knife.
she wrenches his arm and forces him down onto his stomach, her knee digging into the small of his back. ]
If you attempt to injure me again, I will remove your limbs rather than simply break them. Do you understand?
[ her voice is cold, flat, but the kree manages to nod against the floor.
she holds him there as the crowd parts for the nova corps officers to come filing in. they wait a small distance from gamora, clearly not all that inclined to approach her yet, but she hauls the kree to his feet, allowing him to be taken (with far more care given to his broken bones than she might have offered him otherwise). ]
[ Officers gather around Peter and his suspect, as well, though they have fewer compunctions about moving forward; apparently Peter has less of a reputation for being terrifying, because the officers move in quickly, waiting only long enough for Peter to get to his feet. He keeps his blaster trained on the Kree as the officers cuff his hands behind his back, and when they frog-march him away, Peter tucks his gun back into its holster.
He glances around at the gawking guests, startled for a second to be commanding the attention of so many people. Once his shock passes, he clears his throat, and makes a disapproving sort of face as he gestures with his thumb at the two Kree being hauled away. ]
No tickets.
[ By way of (shitty) explanation.
Denarian Dey, in his formal dress uniform, passes by Peter, shaking his head. Peter just grins, clapping the other man on the shoulder; let the Nova Corps decide how they want to handle this fucking mess, Peter figures. He's got bigger things to worry about, which is why he makes his way Gamora. ]
[ gamora watches them escort the kree out of the hall, glaring after them, before she glances down to the cut on her arm. she reaches up to dab at the blood with her fingers, checking the wound without too much consideration for it.
when peter approaches her, she turns her attention to him, only offering a dismissive shrug. ]
Yes, I'm fine.
But I should clean this.
[ because she really wouldn't mind ducking away from the intense focus of the other attendees in the wake of the kree takedown. ]
[ Peter’s own cursory examination of the injury shows that it’s probably not too bad, not too deep, and he glances around. Eventually he nods toward a hallway. ]
Pretty sure they’ve got medkits up front.
[ Government building as this is, the reception area probably has what they’ll need. And Peter’s pretty sure the Nova Corps will be organizing forces in the foyer, and they’ll surely have questions for them, which will kill two birds with one stone. Maybe three birds, too, if Peter’s judged this right – because there’s an uncertain sort of air around Gamora, who seems slightly discomfited by the murmuring, staring, and pointing leveled at them by all the other guests.
Or maybe he’s projecting, or maybe he’s just reading too much into things, but nevertheless, he steps beside her, shielding her from at least half of the room, and leads the way out. ]
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This is a surprise.
And his smile slowly spreads. ]
Really?
[ But apparently he doesn't see reason to tempt fate by waiting for an answer, so he carefully maneuvers them through the crowd and onto the dance floor.
The other dancers are doing little more than quietly swaying. Nothing fancy, thankfully, and the two of them easily slip into the crowd, claiming a space for themselves somewhere in the middle. He takes her hand, presses his other hand against her back, and moves to the music.
Sure enough, the dance floor does provide a clear view of most of the room, and scanning the area from here isn't nearly as conspicuous as standing in corners and searching. The quiet murmur of conversation surrounds them, and while Peter listens for a few seconds, nothing stands out. Business propositions and thoughts on the current political climate, and really a whole lot of shit Peter doesn't care about, so he tunes it out.
After maybe a handful of seconds, he murmurs, ]
Now's when you get to tell me I was right.
[ "get to." ]
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(on peter's hand in hers, on the splay of his fingers on the bare skin of her back.)
the murmur of voices around them doesn't prove to be useful, yet, but the vantage is much more appealing than peering around from the fringes of the room.
...she'll at least give him that.
but when he speaks up again, his phrasing has her leveling him with one of those flat, somewhat exasperated looks. ]
Perhaps I should investigate that hall to our left instead.
[ but she's not stepping away from him as her hand stays in his, her other resting on his shoulder with her thumb brushing against skin where his neck meets the collar of his shirt. ]
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I mean, if you wanted to sneak off with me into a dark corner, you only have to ask.
[ #halfnailedit. ]
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You would lose your nerve before we could even leave the dance floor, Quill.
[ it isn't an indulgence, but it's probably better for peter than getting his foot stamped on for his troubles.
but the comm in gamora's ear fills with the sound of rocket's fake gagging.
"gross, guys." ]
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[ Would so.
And Rocket's feigned disgust makes Peter glare at a spot over Gamora's shoulder. He whispers, ]
No comments from the peanut gallery.
Don't say anything, Drax. [ And that bit comes hot on the heels of his last sentence, and there's an almost affronted (if puzzled) sigh from Drax. ]
Are they seriously gonna be listening in the whole time?
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I would say that it's likely.
[ in case something goes wrong or they need to respond immediately, after all. ]
Is there a reason they shouldn't?
[ ...other than the constant commentary when their companions start getting bored. ]
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[ Apparently the crew's (well, Rocket's) need to be smart-asses is Peter's primary concern. ]
Can we at least agree on radio silence until one of us says a code word or something?
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[ and there's that weird hissing laugh on rocket's end of the comm.
gamora just sighs, minutely shaking her head. ]
This is neither the time nor the place. If something requires attention, say so; we don't need code words.
No, but really, what about code phr—
Or phrases.
I seriously think we could—
Enough.
[ short, quiet because of the still-dancing couples around them, but sharp nonetheless.
there's some muttering on the other end of the comm, but nothing that gamora can pick out, so it seems that rocket is content to adhere to the call for radio silence.
...for now. ]
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What follows is a few seconds of awkward silence, with everyone properly chagrined, Peter included. Eventually, he ventures quietly, ]
See anything?
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Dude on your guys' left — that shifty Kree in the red fancy suit thing. He keeps edgin' towards the stage.
[ gamora follows rocket's direction, her eyes falling on the kree as she and peter continue the quiet pace of the dance. she subtly nods towards the man, as she looks from the kree to peter and back again. ]
I see him.
[ the kree has his hand in his pocket, fiddling with something as he keeps moving closer to where the live band has been situated in the hall. he looks nervous, antsy almost in the way he rocks on his heels, pausing in between each measured approach to the stage. ]
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Maybe he just wants to give them his demo tape.
[ Though even as he says it, he maneuvers the two of them slowly toward the stage – keeping in time with the music, unhurried so as not to draw attention. ]
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they draw closer, and gamora watches as the kree pulls something small from his pocket. she tenses, and her voice is still low, soft enough just for peter and the others over the comm. ]
I do not think demo tapes have buttons.
Nah, but detonators do.
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How do we do this? 'Cause if that is a detonator, I'm pretty sure us sacking him is just gonna get him to pull the trigger.
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If I distract him, could you take it from him?
[ she glances up at peter. ]
Or would you prefer to do the talking?
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I'm pretty sure talking is more my thing, but—
[ He makes an uncertain sort of noise. ]
—pickpocketing is kinda my thing, too. So—
[ He clicks his tongue, drags air in through the corner of his mouth as he considers their options. Then, ]
I can grab it.
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[ gamora is perfectly aware that peter is the more conversational of the two of them, more adept at simply approaching someone and drawing them into the way he talks; gamora can distract, certainly, but she's not as likely to be charming by words alone.
(or charming at all, really.)
but she also knows that peter is exceptionally good with his hands (when it comes to stealing things; she can't vouch for anything else), so that seems the more reasonable approach. ]
Would you guys hurry up already?
[ another roll of gamora's eyes, and when the song ends, she breaks away from peter — with one last brush of her thumb over his neck as they part. after, she's making her way towards the kree, pausing only to swipe a glass of wine from a passing server so she looks at least marginally less confrontational. she doesn't want to startle him into pressing the button or kick up his guard, if she can instead make herself seem like an interested party.
...she'd much rather just break his arm and grab the remote, but not only did that have the potential to go badly, but it would, at the very least, alarm the rest of the guests. ]
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What happened to radio silence?
[ Is all he grumbles as the two of them step away, though he pauses at the brush of her skin against his; it was little more than a brief touch, and he tells himself not to read too much into it.
He skirts away through the crowd, moving away from the Kree. Now and again, he pauses on the edges of conversations, only half-listening as he tracks Gamora's movements toward their suspect. It helps to take his time to let Gamora fully distract the guy, and to avoid unwanted suspicion. He'll circle around to get at the Kree's back. ]
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gamora doesn't stop until she comes up beside him, and she just offers a small (hopefully disarming) smile to the kree.
she notices the way his hand slips back into his pocket, tucking the detonator away as she speaks to him, as she gets him to stop his careful approach of the stage. there's tension in his posture, mistrust and something bordering on hostile, even as he manages a polite tone with her, as he turns his attention properly into the conversation itself.
she can see peter out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn't so much as glance his way as she manages up another smile for the kree; he even seems to relax minutely when she doesn't display any aggression, as she just stands and sips quietly at her drink as she listens to him.
it's that smile, though, wholly unlike the small ones she's given to peter, the one that's made its way to her face on occasion; here and now, it's completely lacking in anything genuine.
but it does the job well enough, keeps the kree's focus on her. ]
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But, no. He moves forward still, deciding that if anything went missing tonight, attention would probably promptly snap to him, the only mildly reformed thief. (But then again, as he usually does, maybe Peter is giving himself too much credit.)
He waits with a surprising amount of patience as Gamora makes polite conversation, as she smiles those empty smiles. Peter stands on the edge of another small crowd, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation. More tension eases out of the Kree's frame when he realizes Gamora isn't there to stop him from doing— whatever it was he was doing, and he finally moves his hand out of his pocket—
Without the detonator.
The two of them continue on with their conversation, and Peter continues to wait. A small group of people drift past, heading in that direction, and only when the last person crosses behind Peter does he finally break off from one group to join the next. He strikes up a mild sort of conversation with the woman beside him, cracks a joke about the dry canapes that seems to amuse her.
(She asks, "Don't I know you? I swear I've seen you somewhere before."
Peter shrugs and offers a self-deprecating sort of smile. "I just have one of those faces, you know?")
They wander slowly past Gamora and the Kree, the people ahead of them talking about something stuffy. Stock options or the political climate on Xanadu or something that Peter almost immediately zones out on that, thanks.
And Peter picks his moment, keeps his head slightly turned to the person beside him. He waits for the Kree to turn away a little, offer some vague gesture as he speaks, before Peter quickly dips his hand into the Kree's pocket, fishing out the device and slipping it into his own trouser pocket.
The man doesn't seem to notice (and neither does the woman), though Peter doesn't bother waiting around long enough to see if he will. He continues onward with the little crowd he had latched on to, offering only a quiet hum over their comms to indicate he had swiped the item. ]
no subject
at least now she doesn't have to continue engaging the kree.
she excuses herself with some level of abruptness (because gamora is many things, but perfectly suited to social situations she is not), breaking away and leaving her barely-touched drink with another waiter. ]
Should we have the Nova Corps remove him?
[ spoken under her breath, just loud enough for the comm to pick up her voice.
of course, as soon as gamora has stepped away, the kree is reaching into his pocket again—
—only to realize that the detonator is gone.
he looks wildly around him, his narrowed eyes falling on gamora, and then the man is crossing the dance floor to follow her, pushing carelessly past partygoers. as he moves, he flicks his wrist, a small but incredibly sharp knife dropping into his palm. ]
Whoa, Gamora, incoming — on your six.
[ gamora spins on her heel as the kree comes up behind her, lashing out with the blade. she moves just quickly enough to avoid legitimate damage, but the knife grazes across her upper arm before she snaps her hands out, closing her fingers around his wrist and elbow to twist the limb in exactly the wrong way. he drops the knife with a yell, while the sounds of shock and alarm quickly start to spread through the crowd.
...exactly what gamora hoped to avoid.
(but at least the building hasn't gone up in flames, so this is a small consolation.) ]
no subject
He steps away from his new friend with a lot more grace than Gamora manages, saying his goodbyes (and, surprisingly, turning down her offer to exchange contact information) before wandering back into the crowd.
Then the warning from Rocket, and Peter's gaze snaps toward the Kree charging toward Gamora. ]
Shit.
[ — is about all he manages to hiss out, though Gamora seems to have the situation well in hand.
—Except he sees the streak of blood running down her arm, and something in him goes cold.
There's a sudden surge of movement to his left as someone charges through the curious onlookers– definitely not a Nova Corpse officer, considering the lack of adherence to protocol and the non-standard issue blade that falls into his hand. Peter moves without thinking, zipping through the crowd to get at the Kree. Single-minded as that particular assailant's focus is, he doesn't notice Peter bearing down on him until he's an arm's length away—
And by then, it's too late, as Peter knocks him to the ground, yanking his blaster from the holster at his hip and aiming the barrel at the dazed Kree's temple. ]
Maybe don't move.
[ This, aimed down at the asshole whose chest he's currently straddling. Then, shouted over his shoulder to Gamora. ]
You alright?
no subject
Fine.
[ she calls it back to him, before her attention settles on the kree again — catching him just as he reaches for another knife.
she wrenches his arm and forces him down onto his stomach, her knee digging into the small of his back. ]
If you attempt to injure me again, I will remove your limbs rather than simply break them. Do you understand?
[ her voice is cold, flat, but the kree manages to nod against the floor.
she holds him there as the crowd parts for the nova corps officers to come filing in. they wait a small distance from gamora, clearly not all that inclined to approach her yet, but she hauls the kree to his feet, allowing him to be taken (with far more care given to his broken bones than she might have offered him otherwise). ]
no subject
He glances around at the gawking guests, startled for a second to be commanding the attention of so many people. Once his shock passes, he clears his throat, and makes a disapproving sort of face as he gestures with his thumb at the two Kree being hauled away. ]
No tickets.
[ By way of (shitty) explanation.
Denarian Dey, in his formal dress uniform, passes by Peter, shaking his head. Peter just grins, clapping the other man on the shoulder; let the Nova Corps decide how they want to handle this fucking mess, Peter figures. He's got bigger things to worry about, which is why he makes his way Gamora. ]
You sure you're alright?
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when peter approaches her, she turns her attention to him, only offering a dismissive shrug. ]
Yes, I'm fine.
But I should clean this.
[ because she really wouldn't mind ducking away from the intense focus of the other attendees in the wake of the kree takedown. ]
no subject
[ Peter’s own cursory examination of the injury shows that it’s probably not too bad, not too deep, and he glances around. Eventually he nods toward a hallway. ]
Pretty sure they’ve got medkits up front.
[ Government building as this is, the reception area probably has what they’ll need. And Peter’s pretty sure the Nova Corps will be organizing forces in the foyer, and they’ll surely have questions for them, which will kill two birds with one stone. Maybe three birds, too, if Peter’s judged this right – because there’s an uncertain sort of air around Gamora, who seems slightly discomfited by the murmuring, staring, and pointing leveled at them by all the other guests.
Or maybe he’s projecting, or maybe he’s just reading too much into things, but nevertheless, he steps beside her, shielding her from at least half of the room, and leads the way out. ]
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