Chapter 03

Published: 03 February 2025
Words: 2,214
AO3 mirror

Mantis stumbles back, attention torn between catching her footing and countering Nebula’s strikes. She doesn’t get the chance to do either; Nebula is relentless. She advances quickly, and before Mantis can recover Nebula overtakes her.

Nebula lashes out one last time and Mantis jerks back too quickly, tries to dodge and stumbles instead. Nebula can practically feel the other Guardians overseeing their spar tense, start to move in—

Nebula’s blade stops well away from Mantis’s throat, before there was any risk of harm. At the same time, she catches Mantis’s wrist in her free hand and steadies her. Mantis blinks up at her; she lets Nebula pull her upright and by then she’s got her footing back.

“The match is mine,” Nebula says gruffly. She hasn’t broken a sweat yet, isn’t even breathing hard. Mantis is, a little bit, more from how frazzled she’d become at the end of that last match than any actual exertion.

“I thought you weren’t going to go easy on me,” Mantis says, starting to smile. She reaches up to absently brush stray hairs out of her eyes.

Nebula stares at her. “I’m not going to really stab you.”

“I’m teasing,” Mantis rolls her eyes. “I know you wouldn’t actually hurt me.

Despite being the same sentiment Nebula has just expressed, her insides twist strangely when it’s Mantis who says it.

Before she can say anything else, their spectators move in. There’s a palpable sense of relief that Nebula hasn’t just slit one of their teammate’s throat open right in front of them. Nebula doesn’t even need Mantis’s powers to feel it. She shifts impatiently, annoyed. She deserves more credit than that.

Gamora immediately comes to appraise Mantis’s performance. Nebula hears them start to go over Mantis’s form, what she did well and where she could improve before Nebula tunes them out. She sheathes her weapon and side-eyes the rest of them, trying not to bristle when Quill laughs, “Hah, man, you really had us worried there for a second.”

“Why? I know what I’m doing,” she growls. “Mantis was never in any real danger.”

“’Cause you’re a murderous maniac,” Rocket says, and Nebula makes a face.

“I am Groot!”

“She did try to kill us,” Rocket agrees.

Quill makes a little shrugging gesture. “Eh, well…yeah,” he says, nodding his head.

“I haven’t threatened any of you in a long time!”

“You threatened to break Quill’s legs on our last mission,” Drax interjects helpfully.

“You did do that,” Rocket confirms, and Quill says,

“You threaten me all the time.”

“That doesn’t count,” Nebulas says, rolling her eyes. 

“What? Why? That totally counts,” Quill insists.

They go around in circles like that for several more seconds before Gamora finally snaps at them to knock it off, and, finally, the Guardians start to disperse, one by one, now that it’s certain Nebula wasn’t going to accidentally-on-purpose gut Mantis while they spar.

Rocket was the first to leave with Groot in tow, acting bored by the lack of bloodshed. Quill is the next to go, practically chased out by both Nebula (ready to make good on those threats)—

(“see!” Quill had shouted, “you’re threatening me again!”)

—and Gamora (trying to prevent any bloodshed). Drax and Gamora stay the longest, which makes sense given they’ve been the most invested in Mantis’s training until now, but eventually they leave too, and they’re finally alone.

“Finally,” Nebula grumbles once they’re all gone. “Sparring with those idiots heckling us was unpleasant.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Mantis says.

“They’re obnoxious. I don’t know how you can stand them.”

“I don’t think they’re obnoxious. I like their company, actually. They’re fun, and they’ve been good to me.”

Nebula feels a twinge of guilt that she tries to quickly smother, even though Mantis doesn’t seem upset. Which is good, she didn’t want to upset her in the first place, but more distressing than the thought of upsetting Mantis is that she’s worried about that at all. These thoughts all jumble in brain as she tries to make sense of what she’s feeling.

“It’s okay to find us obnoxious,” Mantis says, interrupting Nebula’s spiral and causing Nebula to look up at her.

“I didn’t say anything about you,” Nebula is quick to point out, and Mantis laughs.

“No, but you know I join in on their games and jokes! I do all the same things you get mad at them for.”

Nebula frowns. “When you do it, it’s fine. It’s not as annoying.” Even as she says this she realizes how stupid she sounds, but Mantis just smiles, and there’s something playful, mischievous in her expression that makes all of Nebula’s instincts scream danger.

“Oh really?” Mantis says in a way that reminds Nebula of when Gamora teases her. “So what makes me so special?”

“What?” is all Nebula can think to say, because her mind has gone painfully blank.

“I mean, I must be a little special.” Mantis holds up a hand and makes a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger.

“No, you just—you’re more tolerable,” Nebula splutters, and when Mantis’s smile grows she hastens, “It’s not—don’t get all happy about it! It’s a low bar to clear to be less annoying than all those other idiots.”

This means nothing Nebula tells herself. Absolutely nothing!

Mantis laughs again and says, “You’re silly.” And—silly? Silly? Nebula thinks she might be outraged at that if it weren’t for how disarmingly sweetly Mantis is smiling at her, all traces of mischief gone and replaced with something…softer.

(fonder?)

Nebula is still struggling to gather her wits when Mantis asks, “Would you be up for another match?” and her relief must be palpable (or perhaps Mantis’s powers are just that good; Nebula thinks she sees her antenna twitch) because Mantis has to bite back another laugh at her reaction.

“Yes,” Nebula exclaims, happy to move on from whatever the hell this was. “Yes, let’s spar.” She inhales sharply, deeply, and scrubs a hand across her face, forcing the tangled knot of her emotions to the back of her mind and reaches for her weapon.

Later. She would deal with those later.

One match turns into two into three into who knows how many. They all start to bleed into each other, and Nebula stops keeping track the first time Mantis trips her up and throws her into the floor, where Nebula lays, stunned.

When she doesn’t get up right away, Mantis leans over her, peering at her with scrunched brows. “Did I bruise your ego? I know you’re not really hurt.”

Nebula huffs out a little huh! of laughter before she climbs to her feet. “No bruising here,” she drawls, rolling her neck, “just surprised you were able to pull that off.”

“I have a good teacher,” Mantis replies easily. “Again?”

A little thrill rushes through Nebula, breathing life to that competitive streak of hers, and she realizes that this is fun, and she says, “Again.”

They drop to the floor when they finally tire out—Mantis really drops, letting herself fall onto her back, panting, and she stretches, spreading her arms out far above her head.

“You were vicious!” she exclaims. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

Nebula laughs quietly, taking a seat beside her. “I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you.” For a moment she watches Mantis’s chest rise and fall as she catches her breath, before her gaze flicks up to take in Mantis’s expression.

Her cheeks are flushed rosy and her scalp and forehead are damp with sweat, and her clothes are rumpled and her hair’s mess, but her eyes are closed and she’s smiling what Nebula thinks might be the brightest she’s ever seen.

Mantis cracks an eye open and with a start Nebula realizes how long she’s been staring. Feeling caught, she looks away and says, “Anyways—you got me good once or twice, too.”

Mantis’s smile grows a little smug at this. “I did, didn’t I,” she agrees, and sits up, looking quite pleased with herself.

Mantis draws her knees to her chest, folds her arms across them, and rests her cheek on one arm. They’ve mostly caught their breath by now, but neither seem to be in any rush to move just yet.

“This was much more enjoyable without spectators,” Nebula sighs, and Mantis hums, not disagreeing. It was nicer, she had to admit, even though they hadn’t annoyed her like they had Nebula.

Nebula rolls her shoulders. She isn’t—calling it a pleasant soreness wouldn’t be entirely accurate. She’s always a little bit sore, a little achy, courtesy of all her mods. Comfort wasn’t exactly a concern when Thanos was tearing her apart.

Still, it isn’t entirely unpleasant. Maybe she’s just fooling herself into thinking that because she’s enjoying Mantis’s company.

Mantis…she looks over at her, now that she’s thinking of her again, and sees that Mantis is watching her. She gives Nebula a little smile when they make eye contact, but something in her expression changes as she watches Nebula.

She lifts her head and unfolds her arms from their perch on her knees, and then shifts to tuck her legs underneath her. Her expression has gone strange.

“Nebula?” she asks suddenly. There’s a newfound intensity in her eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Nebula doesn’t know Mantis well, but she knows her enough that it feels strange to see her so serious, so Nebula sits up a little straighter and inclines her head, inviting her to continue.

“I think you are very attractive.”

“I—what.” Nebula blinks, feeling like she’s short-circuiting.

“I am attracted to you,” Mantis repeats, “and I think you are attracted to me, and I think we should go on a date.”

Nebula’s gone very stiff, and when she tries to speak she realizes her mouth has run dry.

“What,” she says slowly, her voice low and rough, “makes you think that I’m attracted to you.”

Mantis gives her a look. “You treat me much kinder than you treat the rest of the Guardians—”

“Gamora told me to be nice to you,” Nebula says sharply, and Mantis lifts her chin and counters,

“Did she also tell you to take me knife-throwing? Or to buy me a present?”

“That means nothing,” Nebula insists. Something hot and uncomfortable prickles at the back of her neck. “The knife was for self defense. It’s practicality—”

Bluntly, Mantis says, “I’ve seen the way you look at me,” and Nebula recoils like she’s been struck. She stares at Mantis, stunned, then snaps her jaw shut. It feels like the air has been crushed from her lungs.

“You don’t know anything,” Nebula growls—tries to, but it comes out strangled.

Mantis softens then, and she scoots a little bit closer. “I know that I like you,” she says.

“Why?” Nebula demands, her voice starting to crack.

“Because we are friends?” Mantis has a look on her face like Nebula has said something very stupid. “And I like spending time with you.”

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you like spending time with.”

“Yes,” Mantis says again, exasperated.

“You’re attracted to me—”

“Nebula, I am certain we have already established this. Yes, I am attracted to you.”

Nebula opens and closes her mouth, at a loss for what to say. Her mind is a storm of emotion, and she feels frantic, frenzied. It takes every ounce of willpower not to snarl and bolt from the room.

Mantis bites her lip as she watches Nebula spiral, and when she sees the panic isn’t diminishing, she reaches for her, wants to comfort her, but Nebula snatches her hand away and hisses, “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Mantis sounds so baffled and it makes Nebula want to scream. There was no way she was this clueless, right?

“You know my reputation, don’t you? I’ve done terrible things. Evil things,” Nebula says, her voice quiet and serious. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not even—I’m more machine than person.”

“I’m not stupid, Nebula, so don’t treat me like I am. Do you really think I wouldn’t be warned about how “dangerous” you were?” Mantis stares hard at her, and after a few seconds of this Nebula drops her gaze, looks angrily away.

“Why then? I assure you, you don’t want to get involved with me,” Nebula nearly spits bitterly. 

“I don’t think you’re as cruel or dangerous as everyone says you are. Or as you act. You have always been kind to me, and I like spending time with you.”

Nebula shifts uncomfortably. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” Mantis allows, not sounding at all convinced, “but I would still like to take you on a date.”

Nebula must look as lost as she feels, because Mantis softens, smiles gently and says, “Just think about it, okay?”

She moves to stand, hesitates and bites her lip, and then ducks her head to press a quick kiss to Nebula’s cheek. “Thank you for training with me. Let me know what you decide.”

She touches Nebula’s arm gently, long enough for her antenna to light up, and then she’s gone and Nebula is left alone in the Benatar’s gym with the ghost of Mantis’s touch and the slow-blooming warmth of Mantis’s affection that touch had left behind.

Notes:

Original AO3 Note: gay little crisis time