He slams into the unyielding metal with a choked-off cry, and when he falls to the ground he just-- lies there, breathing through the ache. His bruises from their last bout still haven't healed up, despite his near constant icing, so aggravating them all over again? Not fun.
Eventually he pushes himself up, sits back against his ship. When he speaks, he's equal parts angry and tired. ]
I don't know. [ It comes out angry and sudden, and for a moment she actually looks shocked at herself. But the anger sweeps back in, shoving her surprise aside ]
You've always been an annoyance, but at least you did your job. And now one little boy has you questioning my every move, and it's infuriating. I should want you dead. I should have killed you the moment you spoke out of turn, but I didn't and I don't know why.
[ He licks his lips as he watches her carefully -- her temper has alawys been short, little more than a rubberband ready to snap, and they're quickly approaching that point, he thinks. Even her displays of power by flinging him into his ship was just par for the course, as far as Peter was concerned.
The Siren always seems so sure of her every move. Even when she makes fucked up decisions, she at least seems to be set in them. This, though, with her freely admitting she doesn't know why she's kept him alive, is dangerous new territory. ]
Maybe-- [ He says it too softly, at first, then clears his throat and tries again; he does his best to keep his voice level and calm. ] Maybe-- you're tired of people sucking up to you. I don't know. Maybe you want someone around who will tell you when it's wrong to kill a little kid.
[ She stares at him for a moment longer, expression softening by degrees. Is that the answer to this? Maybe. She doesn't know, she's still not sure she wants to know, but it seems to have struck a chord regardless.
For the briefest of seconds, she looks tired, but then she's turning away ]
Get up, Quill. [ her tone is firm, but quiet. The heat of her anger is long gone ] I'm not paying you to sit around.
[ He gets to his feet slowly, rolling out his shoulders. His eyes flick to the ship behind him, and he thinks, I could make a run for it, try to get onboard and gun the engines. But with the close call just then-- should he risk it? She'd kill him for sure, or she'd make good on her threats on a fate worse than death.
Peter fancies himself brave, on occasion, but he's also smart enough to be picky about his battles. It's been abundantly clear that Maya won this one the second she popped him up in her phaselock.
After a long moment, he forces himself to take one dragging step after her, then another, before he's at his usual place behind her, to her right.
He grumbles, ] You don't pay me enough for this. [ but there's no heat to it -- just a flat, tired observation. ]
Why do I get the feeling that "negotiate" actually means "throw you around a room until you agree with me"? [ And there's a bitterness there he can't quite mask. ]
[ He stops when she does, and try as he might to examine her face, he can't get a feel for what she's thinking.
Peter's a pretty shitty mercenary, honestly. For most guys, the idea of a higher wage would mollify them, get them to shut up. But Maya's offer falls flat with him; he's suddenly realized he has a moral code, when he thought he'd lost that damn thing a long time ago. And she's right, in a way -- the thing with the kid has fucked this whole deal up pretty badly.
(A part of him says he's upset because killing children is fucked up. That's easy enough reasoning. But deep down, there's a selfish part of him saying he's upset that if she can kill kids without batting an eye, then there's no way in hell he's as safe as he once thought he was.)
He gives up trying to get a read on her. Instead, he puts on his own poker face, shoulders set and back straight. ]
I'd prefer we set an end date to my contract instead of you trying to buy me off.
[ He nearly walks right into her when she spins abruptly, and he jumps back in surprise. That was-- well. It's about the reaction he expected, actually, so he takes on that calm demeanor again. Or as best as he can, anyway -- she's making him nervous. ]
... I'm pretty sure we both know I wasn't in the hangar just for fun.
[ That makes him fall quiet again, because-- is she actually listening to him? Really? ]
What, about the contract? I dunno. We just-- set an end date. When that time rolls around, we-- discuss what happens then, whether we terminate it or we renew it.
[ Terminate, for sure. There's no doubt in Peter's mind. ]
[ He regards her again, and-- well, okay, this is an interesting change of pace, and the corner of his mouth twitches up a little in a small smile. He nods slowly, then holds out his hand. ]
[ When he pulls his hand away, he actually looks somewhat pleased. Maybe she can listen to reason, maybe she isn't the lost cause he thought she was. Granted, it's not as though he's the best moral compass, considering all the decisions that brought him here, but-- better than nothing, right?
He takes a deep breath, nodding. ]
Well. At the very least, then, you've got me for another month.
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He slams into the unyielding metal with a choked-off cry, and when he falls to the ground he just-- lies there, breathing through the ache. His bruises from their last bout still haven't healed up, despite his near constant icing, so aggravating them all over again? Not fun.
Eventually he pushes himself up, sits back against his ship. When he speaks, he's equal parts angry and tired. ]
What the hell do you even want from me?
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You've always been an annoyance, but at least you did your job. And now one little boy has you questioning my every move, and it's infuriating. I should want you dead. I should have killed you the moment you spoke out of turn, but I didn't and I don't know why.
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The Siren always seems so sure of her every move. Even when she makes fucked up decisions, she at least seems to be set in them. This, though, with her freely admitting she doesn't know why she's kept him alive, is dangerous new territory. ]
Maybe-- [ He says it too softly, at first, then clears his throat and tries again; he does his best to keep his voice level and calm. ] Maybe-- you're tired of people sucking up to you. I don't know. Maybe you want someone around who will tell you when it's wrong to kill a little kid.
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For the briefest of seconds, she looks tired, but then she's turning away ]
Get up, Quill. [ her tone is firm, but quiet. The heat of her anger is long gone ] I'm not paying you to sit around.
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Peter fancies himself brave, on occasion, but he's also smart enough to be picky about his battles. It's been abundantly clear that Maya won this one the second she popped him up in her phaselock.
After a long moment, he forces himself to take one dragging step after her, then another, before he's at his usual place behind her, to her right.
He grumbles, ] You don't pay me enough for this. [ but there's no heat to it -- just a flat, tired observation. ]
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If you have any problems with the terms of our contract, by all means, let's negotiate.
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I can always up your pay. We don't have to resort to throwing.
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Peter's a pretty shitty mercenary, honestly. For most guys, the idea of a higher wage would mollify them, get them to shut up. But Maya's offer falls flat with him; he's suddenly realized he has a moral code, when he thought he'd lost that damn thing a long time ago. And she's right, in a way -- the thing with the kid has fucked this whole deal up pretty badly.
(A part of him says he's upset because killing children is fucked up. That's easy enough reasoning. But deep down, there's a selfish part of him saying he's upset that if she can kill kids without batting an eye, then there's no way in hell he's as safe as he once thought he was.)
He gives up trying to get a read on her. Instead, he puts on his own poker face, shoulders set and back straight. ]
I'd prefer we set an end date to my contract instead of you trying to buy me off.
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Is that really what you want?
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... I'm pretty sure we both know I wasn't in the hangar just for fun.
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You ever heard of the phrase "the straw that broke the camel's back"?
Imagine it was like that. Only-- more of a cinder block than a piece of straw.
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What would you have me do, then?
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What, about the contract? I dunno. We just-- set an end date. When that time rolls around, we-- discuss what happens then, whether we terminate it or we renew it.
[ Terminate, for sure. There's no doubt in Peter's mind. ]
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... it's probably that one. ]
And what seems reasonable to you?
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One more month. [ He's been here for several months already. It's way beyond time for him to move on. ] After that-- we'll talk it over, I guess.
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Very well. One more month.
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... Really? That simple?
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Deal, then?
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Come tomorrow, she's having his ship dismantled.
But for the moment, she flashes him a smile in return, and takes his offered hand ]
Deal.
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He takes a deep breath, nodding. ]
Well. At the very least, then, you've got me for another month.