Chapter 5
Peter bounced eagerly on his toes. After making him rest for a day, Yondu had agreed to take him to look at M-Ships.
“Come on, Dad!” he called impatiently. Yondu was sitting on the bed, tugging on his boots- and taking his sweet time about it, too.
“Relax, kid. Ships’ll still be there when we get there,” Yondu told him, smirking. Sure, this was supposed to be a special trip for Peter, but things just wouldn't be right in the world if Yondu wasn't teasing him.
“Well...” Peter floundered, “what if we see the perfect ship but it’s been bought by someone who got there just before we did?” Yondu sniggered.
“I thought we was just lookin’ today,” he teased. “Your birthday ain’t for another half a cycle, almost.” Peter squirmed uncomfortably, unsure if he was kidding or not.
“Well-” Yondu took pity on him, finally getting up and clapping him on the shoulder.
“Whatchu waitin’ for? Let’s go!” Peter rolled his eyes, but he jogged after his dad. He’d been waiting on this moment for ages. Ever since he’d first come aboard, at four years old, he’d been fascinated by all of the ships in the hangar. He’d pestered his dad about having his own so much that Yondu had exasperatedly told him he could when he was fourteen years old- probably expecting the four year old to forget that promise. When it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, Yondu had started teaching him how to fly. Mini-lessons at first, designed more to entertain than to teach, but as Peter got older, they became more complex. At thirteen, he could pretty much pilot any ship in the hangar by himself. As long as he remembered to turn off the emergency break.
As they stepped inside the dealership (and Peter highly appreciate the pun there), his mouth dropped wide open. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Yondu asked him, smiling softly. Peter could tell he hadn’t quite gotten the events of the past few days out of his mind.
“Dad. I’m fine,” he said seriously.
“I know that,” Yondu replied without heat.
“Good,” Peter said. Then he grinned. “Channel your guilt into buying an awesome ship for me.” Yondu rolled his eyes, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
“Go look around, then,” Yondu told him, and that was all the prompting Peter needed. He ran from ship to ship like a little kid, rattling off stats about their engines and durability that Yondu himself wouldn’t have known. The kid did his research, he realized. He’d expected today to be more of a ‘try to decide what we’re looking for’ day, but Peter probably knew exactly what he wanted.
He hadn’t exactly expected to drop a pile of units on a ship today, but after the week Peter had had, Yondu didn’t much mind.
“Were you listening, Dad?” Peter asked, interrupting his thoughts. Yondu gave a half grin, shrugging. “I said I don’t think they have what I want here. I was looking for the wider body style with the newer engine style, but all they have here’s the new, narrower ones.” Yondu nodded.
“Might be we have to get it custom- wait. Peter.” Peter looked at him expectantly. “You just described that old rust bucket I taught you to fly on!” Peter laughed. It was true- he'd perfectly described the M-Ship Yondu taught him to fly with. It was a real hunk of junk- Yondu didn't want to risk him wrecking one of the good ones after a close call with his Warbird.
“Hey, I guess I did. Must have stuck with me,” he admitted. Yondu looked at him seriously.
“If that’s really what you want... We can fix it up. Take a lot of work to get it ready for your birthday, but...” Yondu trailed off, a little unsure. Maybe it was a stupid idea, surely the kid would want something that required less work. He was surprised when Peter suddenly threw his arms around him.
“That sounds perfect,” Peter said sincerely. Yondu smiled- and not because he’d just saved himself 50,000 units.
Six months and countless hours of work later, the ship was finished. They’d basically gutted the inside, putting in new furniture and updating the electronics. The engine crew had surprised Peter with finding a way to wire him a music player that would play his tape. Most of the crew had helped in some minor task in some way or another, and Kraglin and Yondu helped a fair bit, but Peter did the majority of the work, even repainting it. That had happened a couple times, actually- Peter wasn’t a terribly skilled painter. Yondu had half expected him to get bored with the task and leave him to finish it or ask for another M-Ship. To his surprise, Peter had seen the task through, and picked up a lot of skills while doing it.
“It looks good, Pete,” Yondu said sincerely.
“She’s called the Milano,” Peter said proudly.
“Not a bad name. Where’d you get it from?” Kraglin asked. Peter blushed, and mumbled something. “Huh?”
“It’s the name of those cookies I like,” he muttered. Yondu and Kraglin laughed uproariously. “They’re good cookies!” he defended himself even as he laughed. He sank down into the pilot seat, grinning. On the console was one of Yondu’s trinkets- the one with the wobbling rocket that he’d always admired when he was little. Surprised, he glanced at Yondu, who just smirked.
Peter grinned back at him. He had a pretty cool dad.