"You really know how to fly this thing, don't you?" you ask, hopping back from the back of the Milano to the co-pilot's seat.

"Love my baby," Peter says proudly, patting the ship's interior. "Never had a problem with her-"

The lights flicker and then shut down, leaving you and Peter in darkness. "You had to go and jinx it," you mutter. "We got no power and we're on the dark side of the moon."

"I can reboot her, but that'll take a few hours."

"Bucket of bolts," you whisper, kicking the Milano.

"Don't kick my baby!"

"Just fix the damn ship. The longer we're out here with no power and half a million credits is longer than I'd like."

"Not to mention the fact that we have no heating," Peter comments, pulling at the Milano's internal wiring. "Or oxygen."

"Great! We'll freeze and suffocate with half a million credits. Much better!"

After Peter reboots the ship, all the two of you can do is wait. The emergency life support systems keep just enough heat and oxygen in the ship to keep you alive, but eventually all pride is foregone and the two of you are huddled together under one of the blankets.

"This isn't fun."

"Yeah, no s-shit, [Y/n]."

"I hold you r-responsible."

Peter turns to you with an annoyed look. "How is it my fault? You w-were the one who let them hit us."

"You were-!"

Peter leans in as you speak and kisses you, cutting off your words. You pull back. "What was that f-for?"

"You argue too much." Before you can reply, the Milano comes to life. "'Sides, we were never gonna die, drama queen."

You roll your eyes, pushing him away. "I hate you."

"I know you meant 'love.'"