Space Lovers~ Peter Quill- ON HOLD

14. Fox On The Run

After returning to the Milano to freshen up, changing out of her red jacket to Peters red trench coat, Freya pulled on a pair of knee-high boots. She fancied a change to her usual combat boots that she always glided around in, regardless of how bulky the boots were.

"Good going out there, Princess," Peter smiled as he entered their shared room. He was quickly changing his top, revealing his well-defined muscles of his torso before picking back up his coat and wandering over to take his wife into his arms. "You seem to have a bit of drool, just there," Peter smirked as he rubbed his thumb over the corner of his wife's lips. Before kissing her tenderly on her brow and then nose.

"Am I not allowed to admire what is mine?" She smirked back. That wicked pull of her lips something that had Peter swallowing audibly, "Thought so,"

"Hey! That's not fair!" Peter shouted after her as she moved from his grip and swayed her hip as she ascended the ladder to the main deck.

"Hurry up and get your sexy ass up here then!" She called over her shoulder. Peter launching after her as the group of friends gathered at the hatch. Everyone waiting to go.

"Okay, these Anulax batteries are worth thousands of units a piece... which is why the Sovereign hired us to protect them. Careful what you say around these folks. They're easily offended. The cost of transgression is death," Peter explained as they were escorted into the grand, golden, throne room.

The tacky gold was nothing compared to that of the beauty that Asgard contained within its throne room. The gold there shimmered and reflected the energy that could revitalise a tired soul.

The gold here could never shine as brightly or be as tasteful as what used to surround her throughout her childhood. A sour look crossing her face at the overuse of the precious colour, Peter noticing his wife's disgust. These people acted like royalty; she was. Yet she never held herself above them as they did to her.

"They're just a bunch of inbred lords that have their heads perminatley located up their ass-" A harsh squeeze of her hand had Freya silenced. A scowl sent towards Peter, who had grabbed her hand during her rant. He loved his wife for her wit, but sometimes her mouth seemed to run away with her. As could his.

Ayesha, sat tall on her throne. Surrounded by her subjects as she addressed the group of idiots before her, "We thank you, Guardians, for putting your lives on the line. We could not risk the lives of our own Sovereign citizens. Every citizen is born exactly as designed by the community. Impeccable, both physically and mentally. We control the DNA of our progeny... germinating them in birthing pods."

Peter winked at Freya as he spoke, "I guess I prefer to make people the old-fashioned way."

"Perhaps someday, you could give me a history lesson... in the archaic ways of our ancestors. For academic purposes."

Peter could sense Freya's blood boiling as she stood beside him, but to everyone else, the smirk that crawled onto her lips as she spoke would make the hairs stand to attention on the back of their necks, "I would happily oblige. Maybe Peter could pick up a few hints as he watched-"

"-Oh, please. Your people promised something in exchange for our services. Bring it... and we shall gladly be on our way." Gamora interrupted as she cringed at Freya's proposition. She didn't want to be here any longer than necessary.

A hooded figure was hauled into the room. Everyone anticipating the identity of the person they believed was worth their time. Next time, Freya would ensure that she knew what she was being paid with before even entertaining the thought of doing anyone's dirty work. It was like when she used her many resources to download some of the entertainment Midgard had to offer to her desktop- something Peter des[ised her doing as he wanted no reminder of what he had left behind. Sometimes the so-called films would have five-star ratings, and yet she would be bored out of her mind; leaving her just as disappointed as she was right now watching Nebula be pushed to the floor like a slave. She much preferred the musicals she had downloaded and was able to listen to. The music something else that would uplift her raging moods, just as much as Peter singing his favourite melodies.

"Family reunion, yey" Peter awkwardly celebrated as his eye landed on their next headache. The hood being pulled back to reveal a very angry looking Nebula. Freya letting out a large groan of annoyance when she noticed just who they would have to bring onto their ship. Their roles reversed from all those years ago when Freya was kidnapped and taken on Thano's ship. She would never let anyone tie her up and take her away from those she loved again.

"I understand she is your sister," Ayesha speaks in her monotone voice.

"She is worth nothing more to me than the bounty due for her on Xandar," Gamora spits as she grabs her sister by her tattered robes and hauls her out of the room. Nebula spitting and cursing her sister as they make their way to the ship.

"Our soldiers apprehended her attempting to steal the batteries. Do with her as you please." I couldn't care less about what she was doing; I would have to waste precious resources in keeping her alive until we reach Xandar.

"We thank you, High Priestess Ayesha." Peter falsely smiles as we begin to leave.

"What is your heritage, Mr Quill? I know your wife is of Asgard; a strong and powerful woman. But not much of you." The snobby woman was pocking her nose where it didn't belong. Both Freya and Peter were becoming defensive at the mention of their bloodline.

"My mother is from Earth." he grits his teeth.

"And your father?" Freya's blood boiled at the cheek of the woman, Peter having to wrap his arm tightly around her waist to stop her storming over to the Priestess and punching the living daylights out of her.

"He ain't from Missouri. That's for sure,"

"I see it within you. An unorthodox genealogy. A hybrid that seems particularly... reckless." Even Peter was becoming infuriated with the riddles this woman was spinning.

"You know, Freya told me you people were considered doushé-bags, but that isn't true at all." Rocket stuck up for Peter after hearing the insult, by dropping the Asgardian lady into the lions' lair. If he were honest, he'd enjoy watching the goddess beating the crap out of the plastic doll that called herself royalty. None would be as high and mighty as Freya to him. She was true royalty and deserved to be respected. Not these people of false claims and riddles.

The whole room stopped and stared as Rocket carried on as if he hadn't told them that Freya had been bad mouthing them behind their backs, "Ah, Shit. I'm using my wrong eye again, aren't I? I'm sorry," He's apology was far from heartfelt as Frey stormed past him towards the exit. Her face still a perfect mask of composure, which frightened Rocket more as he realised just how much fury the strong warrior was hiding. Drax picks up the big-mouthed Raccoon and follows a rushing Peter who was trailing after his wife. That man was whipped.

"That was meant to be behind your back!" Rocket snickers over his shoulder as Drax continues to drag him out the room. Counting his lucky stars that Rocket hadn't just nearly gotten them executed.