Gamora and Sam
Gamora made a face. She and Peter had done a lot more than hang out or kiss, which made her feel like she should probably be more certain. "I should just stick to combat," she said, "That's simple. Romance is a very complicated Terran construct."
She knew that this wasn't quite true. From her very limited childhood memories, her parents, like most Zen-Whoberians, had been life-mates and seemed happy with one another for all she could recollect of their too short lives. But a childhood raised by the Mad Titan had all but erased what Gamora knew should be her nature.
She picked up the bottle of disgusting green sludge on the counter next to her, changing the subject. "I feel kind of guilty throwing this out. But it's truly terrible. Don't tell, okay?" She hopped off the counter, pouring the juice in the plant. She figured that somehow the nutrients would filter through the soil, and at least the poor fern wouldn't have to taste it.