Merry Grootmas [Guardians of the Galaxy]

Part 3

"Santa Claus is real..." Peter backed away from the glass, his hand reaching instinctively to his blaster.

Rocket eyed Peter's hand. "Trouble?"

"You better believe it," Peter said, glancing around the empty lot. Treachery was afoot...but where?

"Finally," Drax said, cracking his knuckles. "Trouble!"

Rocket readied the double-barreled laser rifle he'd had slung over his shoulder. The damned thing was twice his size.

"Hold up," Peter said, raising a hand. "There's a man inside, tied up. We don't know what we're walking into, or where the people are that tied him up are."

"Perhaps he's tied up for a good reason," Rocket said.

Drax nodded. "Or, if this is the 'Santa Claus' you spoke of, perhaps someone robbed him before we got the chance."

"We're not robbing anybody. We're the Guardians of the Galaxy," Peter said. "Or, in this case, the Guardians of the Gas Station."

"What's going on here?"

The three of them jumped. Gamora was standing behind them, arms crossed.

"We have finally found ourselves some trouble," Drax said, a wide grin on his face. "There is a man inside this building, tied up. Peter thinks there is foulplay involved."

"In that case," Gamora said, drawing a dagger from her shin holster, "let's untie him."

"Wait," Peter said. "We can't just go storming in."

Gamora nodded. "You're right. We should split up. Two of us should go around back, in case the villains try to escape."

Peter shook his head. "I could care less about that. I'm saying, we can't storm the castle without a battle cry."

"We should have worked this out sometime in the past three months we've been flying around the galaxy," Gamora said.

Rocket flipped the safety on his weapon. "I've got a battle cry. How about...GUARDIANS ASSEMBLE!"

They all looked at him. It was the stupidest thing any of them had ever heard. They were already assembled. Maybe it would work for some second-rate team like the Avengers, but the Guardians of the Galaxy needed something a little more epic. Something that the bad guys would never forget. Something—

Drax kicked in the plate glass door and stepped through the frame, his feet crunching down on the broken glass. "Anybody home?" he shouted. Santa struggled against the ropes binding him and looked up at them. He tried to say something, but the rag stuffed in his mouth prevented him from speaking. His breathing was heavy and labored. 

"Anybody home?" Rocket repeated, watching Drax poke around the convenience store's aisles. "That's not a catchphrase."

"The store is empty," Drax said.

Gamora kneeled with her dagger next to the man in the red suit. The man's eyes went wide, but he relaxed as she pulled the rag from his mouth. He sucked in a few deep breaths. Gamora cut the ropes, freeing his hands.

Rocket hopped onto the front counter, where the cash register was open. He looked behind it. A man's body lay in a pool of blood on the floor. "There's a dead one over here," Rocket said.

"I walked in on a robbery," the man in the red suit said. "A man in purple armor and wings was holding up the store."

Drax furrowed his brow. "Why did this winged man let you live?"

"I think he was going to," the man said, rubbing his wrists. "But he realized who I was."

"Santa," Peter whispered.

"That's right," Santa said with a wink. "If he killed ol' Saint Nick, he could attract the wrath of the Avengers or the Fantastic Four. One of those superhero teams that protects Earth. He was trying to fly under the radar, I guess. Still, he stole my ship and is probably on his way to my workshop, not some five miles from here."

"Well, he may be flying under the radar of the Avengers, but he's got a far bigger problem now," Peter said. "The Guardians of the Galaxy."

Santa stared blankly at him. "Who?"

Peter sighed. "We'll explain on the way."