The Sisters
Yondu hates the miles-long trek through the thick, unforgiving jungle. He hates it even more because of the half chub in his pants and the visual of Kraglin in front of him, wearing Yondu’s spare clothes. Something primal whines in Yondu’s brain, wrecking his concentration and making him think of being hot and sweaty in a completely different setting.
Watching Kraglin sway his hips isn’t helping, either.
The sisters – whoever they are – live in what Yondu would fondly call a parts graveyard. The jungle clears to reveal a stretch of downed shuttles, ships, and starjumpers. He even spots an M-ship in the distance. Gamora leads them through the parts to a behemoth of a ship, then creaks the door open. “Sister!” she yells.
A blue-and-grey face appears; a half-bionic creature of some kind, obviously female. “What?”
“I bring visitors! They need parts!”
“This is amazing!” Peter says, and Yondu grabs him by the ear so he doesn’t scamper off. Peter yelps, “Yondu!”
“Ya get lost in here, I’m leavin’ ya.”
Peter just grins. Great. One knows his weakness because of an attraction, the other knows his weakness because of adorableness. “I mean it,” Yondu threatens. “An’ ya stay on your two feet, ya hear me?”
“Yes, Yondu,” Peter sulks. “I promise.”
Yondu shoves Peter towards Kraglin, follows Gamora up a rung ladder until they meet the other woman face-to-face. “I am Nebula,” she says. “I run this place.”
“Ain’t seen a lot o’ buyers,” Yondu replies. “And I ain’t got much ta trade.”
“I would take the little one,” Gamora says, and Yondu bristles. “But I feel that is not optional.”
“Not at all,” Yondu growls. “If I can get my communicator workin’, I can get a pickup, and would be happy ta give ya both a lift somewhere else, if ya want.”
The two sisters share a look. “Agreed,” Nebula replies. “We are in accordance then, Ravager?”
Yondu arches an eyebrow and Nebula laughs, mocking. “Do not think us for fools. We know the reputation of Yondu Udonta, even if those two little cubs do not. We are not of this place. We are stranded here as you are. Though I would not have taken you for one to appreciate the livestock. Tigers, aren’t they?”
“Got my reasons to keep the boys,” Yondu says, blunt and sharp in spades. “Ain’t got a fight with either of ya. Don’ think about changing my mind, ya won’t like bein’ on my bad side.”
“We want out of here as badly as you do,” Gamora replies. “If you take us to Knowhere when you go, then you are welcome to take whatever you need to fix your communications system.”
“Deal,” Yondu replies.
“YOOOOOOOON-DUUU!!!!!” cries a little voice from the bottom of the ladder. “ARE YOU ALMOST DONE? I’M HUNGRY!”
Gamora lets out a chuckle. “Maybe you don’t see it, sister, but I find I agree with the Ravager. The littlest animal is especially cute.”
“Perhaps.”
Yondu tunes them out, shouts to Peter, “Whatchu want, boy? Ain’t a restaurant. Gotta wait till we’re back to camp.”
Gamora offers, “We have food we will share with the cub. You stay with my sister and find what you need.”
Yondu arches a brow. “Anythin’ happens ta either o’ them, deal’s off.”
“Agreed.” He watches her walk away, hears Peter’s cry of ‘hi Gamora!’, and turns his attention back to Nebula.
“Need the antiburners an’ at least half dozen diulde crystals, ta start,” he says.
“Life pod?” she says. He nods. “Right. What kind of wiring are you looking at?”
“Rigged from Xandarian tech. Mostly standard.”
“You’ll have to let me see the craft.”
“Fine. Do ya got the parts?”
“I think so, but we’ll have to scavenge them.”
Yondu follows her down the stairs, stops to check on Kraglin and Peter. They’re in a small galley, sitting on pilot’s chairs that have been arranged around a table. “Y’all fine here?”
Peter nods, mouth too full to reply. Kraglin nods but looks paler than earlier. “Boy,” Yondu says. “Y’ain’t lyin’, are ya?”
He shrugs, and Yondu knows he has two choices: ignore it and find the parts he needs, or stop and take care of Kraglin. The pirate in him wants to continue onward.
The mating instinct has him in a chair, elbowing Peter. “Hey, pass that plate, cub.”
“Yondu!” Peter hisses. “You said not ta say anythin’!”
Stars, Peter was starting to sound like him. “Yeah, I did. Ya did good, but they knew whatcha were ‘fore I said anythin’.”
“Oh. Does that mean I can sleep in my fur now?”
Yondu looks at the two women across from him. For better or worse, they’re partners. “Ya wanna stay here or go back to the pod?”
“Here, please,” Kraglin replies, and that seals it for Yondu. His mate’s more tired than he’s letting on.
“Sure, kid,” he replies. He addresses Nebula. “Start in the mornin’?”
“One day more will hurt nothing,” she says.
Gamora pets Peter while Peter shovels more food in his face. “Little lord of stars has been entertaining me.”
“He does that. Talks a lot.”
“I begin to see the appeal.”
Well, if bein’ stuck in a ship graveyard with two weird women gets Peter a couple more protectors, Yondu’s not going to argue. He looks at Kraglin, who’s falling asleep in his plate, and asks, “Got somewhere I can bring him to bunk?”
“You and he may share a space; the room is big enough to suit the three of you.”
Gamora picks Peter up, carries him toward the gangplank leading to the aft. “Come. I will show you.”
“Need me ta carry ya?”
Kraglin glares, pushes himself to standing, and sways gently. “Perhaps a shoulder would be appreciated.”
Yondu helps him down the gangplank, following Gamora to what would have served as the captain’s quarters. The bed is large enough for two, with a bolted-in cot to one side. Gamora sets Peter down, says, “Until tomorrow,” and leaves them.
It’s early enough for Peter to be sleepy, but Yondu is both wide awake and considering what could be done on that bed. Kraglin’s thinking it too, if the way he leans into Yondu’s sturdy frame is any indication.
“So, Peter. Wanna sleep?”
Peter yawns and squirms. “Yeah. Can I get a cuddle in the big bed?”
The two adults look at each other. Kraglin caves first. “Yes,” he says, and Peter throws himself into the middle of the larger sleeping space. To Yondu, he adds, “We still have things to discuss.”
“Tomorrow. Tonight we’ve got a cub to cuddle.” Because Yondu’s no prude, but sex in a bed with a kid in it goes too far for even his tastes. “But yeah. Don’t think I don’ wantcha.”
Kraglin’s eyes darken. “I feel the same. Tomorrow, then.”
It feels like a promise.