<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">Quill pulled the com away from his face and looked at with furrowed brows the immediately smashed it back to his face. That was stupid, because he was drunk and he misjudged his distance and speed and more-or-less punched himself in the face with it. There was a fumbling noise as he grappled to get the thing back. "Shit.....Duh, asshat, that's why they make headsets..." Quill was talking to himself as he jostled and jimmied a head set onto his head.<br/>
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"Sweetheart??? Seriously? I sound like a 'sweetheart' to you?" the confident overtones of the man on the other side had caught him off guard. "I'm a man, dude. A seriously mighty man. I mean, people know me," he defended his honor staunchly despite the fact of having put himself in the situation in the first place. The blinking neon outside caught his eye again. Bored? Yes. Lonely? Yes. Tired of being turned down...again? Yes.<br/>
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"I...I guess...I mean, I was gonna prank you. Just sayin', but, hey, now that you mention it, I could use a little company. People know me, right? That, you know, makes it hard to go out without, you know, being mobbed and I am so sick of being mobbed," there was a long pause as he tried to focus and not sound like a dweeb. Because he wasn't. He was Star Lord, two time galaxy saver! He sighed, almost forgetting he had someone on the com frequency. "So, ok, you want to call me sweetheart, I'm not the kind to judge, you know? So what do I call you?"<br/>
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