It had been a few weeks since the team had left Xandar to do something bad. Or something good. And man, they were bored out of their minds.
Thus, before Rocket would accidentally blow up the Milano while making another bomb out of its parts or before the very welcome truce between Drax and Gamora came to an end, Peter decided to make a stop on a Xandar-friendly planet. Having grown up on a ship with the Ravagers, the half-Terran knew when to recognize the early signs of cabin fever and preferred not to think about how badly it could turn with his crazy teammates.
A few hours later, they found themselves enjoying a few drinks in a bar that was classy enough for Gamora’s taste and shady enough for Rocket not to be tempted to steal anything valuable from the customers. The Guardians had chosen a table on the far end of the bar, next to the emergency exit and where they could see everything without being noticed. They even had a good view of the TV screen broadcasting some news from different planets across the Galaxy.
Sitting around the table next to them was a bunch of mercenaries of some sorts, Chitauri and/or Badoons, maybe. The dim light made it difficult for Peter to see, but the foul smell coming from them made him pretty sure they were Chitauri. They didn’t seem to pose a threat right now, but the former ravager thought it might be a good idea to keep an eye on them. A quick glance at Gamora, whom he was sitting next to, showed him he wasn’t the only one to be on his guards. They exchanged a friendly smile and resumed their discreet surveillance while nursing their drinks.
Meanwhile, the news were still playing on the TV screen and the anchorman, a lizard-looking guy with an enormous head and bulging eyes, was commenting on a previous report:
“Thank you, Ph’liip. I’ll have to remind our dear viewers not to try this at home…”
At his words, his partner, a pink-skinned Kree woman with blonde hair, giggled. “Oh, my dear M’rbo, I’m sure a fine man like you could destroy them with his eyes closed!”
“Yes, I too could destroy those puny tribbles!” M’rbo roared.
“And now, we have some new information about the catastrophic events that occurred in Xandar a few weeks ago.”
Peter stiffened himself, interested. Between the debriefings with the Nova Corps, getting their various wounds healed and discovering that he was, in fact, not as human as he once thought, they didn’t have the time to check on the news and he was curious to know how the defeat of Ronan was being reported on the rest of the Galaxy. And, judging by the way the maybe-Badoons-but-pretty-sure-they're-Chitauri stopped talking; they were interested too, though probably not for the same reasons.
“As we now know, Kree fanatic Ronan The Accuser orchestrated the air assault against Xandar which caused the loss of almost all of the Nova Empire forces and partially destroyed the city. Various witnesses’ testimonies allow us to state that The Accuser was defeated by a team of misfits calling themselves “The Guardians of The Galaxy”, and whose leader seems to be a certain Star-Prince. We don’t really know if this prince is of royal lineage or not at the time…”
Peter rolled his eyes as Rocket let out a very inelegant snort and muttered “Royal lineage my ass…”
“I do not see how your buttocks could be of royal descent, friend.” a puzzled Drax answered.
“Figure of speech, big dude.”
“… also we can now confirm that the dance-like moves Star-Prince did just before defeating Ronan were some kind of a distraction, and not a mating dance as it was first reported.”
Peter choked on his drink as the rest of the team exploded in laughter. “Guh, this beer gets even sourer when it's coming out of my nose…” Next to him, Gamora was laughing so much she didn't even pay attention to his disgusting beer-spitting nose. “Oh, come on guys” he hissed, “Could you please make a little bit less noise? I don't want those uglies...” he pointed to the mercenaries sitting next to them, “to find out who we are.”
“Oh, of course yer highness...” Rocket snickered, “but maybe ya should try some of yer dance moves with'em, see if they fall for yer rugged charms?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it off, furball.”
“… but we are still not certain of the role Gamora, Daughter of Thanos, played in these events. Though we know for sure that Ronan was associated with the Mad Titan, witnesses are adamant about Gamora being a part of the so called Guardians of the Galaxy. That plus the fact that her criminal records have been expunged by the Nova Corps, seem to prove she might have turned against her father and his nefarious projects. For how long and for what purpose exactly, that's the question...”
“Well, at least the Galaxy knows you don't work for Thanos anymore…” Peter said softly to his friend. She looked at him, all traces of the previous laughter gone.
“Even if I lived a thousand years, I could not atone for all the atrocities that I have done, Quill. The Galaxy is still filled with people wanting me dead for revenge, and a clean record will not change that.” She averted her eyes from him, toying with her beer like it suddenly was the most fascinating thing in the universe.
“If you hadn’t taken my hand that day, with the… uh, stone and all, I would have been vaporized. And then Ronan the Douchier would have destroyed Xandar, and everything standing against his crazy beliefs. You almost died saving me and the entire Galaxy, and if that doesn't count as atonement, I don't know what can.” He gently bowed his head to catch her eyes again, and smiled. “And for all those crazies still wanting you dead well… you're not alone anymore. Look, you've got the best team ever, with a homicidal raccoon, a talking tree, an ultra-powerful thesaurus and, cherry on the cake, a cunning thief with devastating mating dance moves.” He gave her his trademark smirk and was relieved when she smiled in return, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Well, I wouldn't have called you cunning...”
“Ha! So you're not denying that my dance moves are devastating? What was it you called them again? Pelvic sorcery?” He wiggled his eyebrows for effect.
“I didn't say it was a good thing.”
“You're a lying liar; I know you have dreams about me moving my hips...”
“Yes, they are called nightmares.” She was fighting very hard not to smile too much. And failed miserably.
“Oh! So you admit you have dreams about me! I knew it!”
“Shut up, Quill.” She laughed again and that was music to his ears.
“… Rumor has it that the same fighter who challenged Ronan to a duel on the Knowhere mining station, was also a part of the team. We don't know much about what really happened there, as reliable information in this part of the Galaxy proves very difficult to obtain. Though, it is not farfetched to think that the same mysterious super-weapon they used to destroy Ronan is responsible for the colossal amount of damage caused to Tivan's facilities.”
“Yeah, I'm not sad whitey's zoo got destroyed. Those glass cages was givin'me some serious case of the heebie-jeebies, and I hated how the creep looked at Groot.” Rocket nodded at his tiny friend, still in his pot. Groot waved a leafy branch at him, smiling adorably.
Peter couldn't help looking at them fondly. Tiny Groot was impossibly cute and made a weird pair with his constantly swearing furry friend. The former Ravager caught himself before Rocket witnessed him showing his softer side, or else he would never hear the end of it.
“… testimonies also differ on whether the fighter, who is believed to be the same Drax the Destroyer who has killed many of Ronan's minions, has brought a pet with him during the battle...”
“WHAT!?”
“… or whether the beast was trained to handle weapons of mass destruction. As it seems unlikely that such a small animal can lift such heavy weapons...”
“I'll come and make a weapon of mass destruction out of yer ass, frogface!”
“Calm down, Rocket...”
“… we are now in favor of the theory that the animal would be a mascot for the team.”
“A WHAT NOW?!”
“shh, Rocket, damn it!”
“Don't shush me, Shit-Lord!”
“I am Groot!”
“Yes I'm offensive; I'll offend everyone if I wanna! This is the last straw!”
“It seems unlikely to me that this drinking establishment is already short of all its straws so early in the evening.”
“What?”
“Quill's right, we don't want to draw to much attention...”
“I'll skin the son of a bitch and make a bag out of his scales! See who's a mascot then!”
“Friend Rocket, you should not be ashamed of what those journalists say, since it is their information that is untrue.”
“Pff, it's easy for you to say, big guy, yer not the one they called pet!” Rocket deflated a little, but was still wired and kept grumbling inaudible threats.
“OK guys, I think we had enough excitement for tonight, I'll go pay our tab.” Peter got up and stretched his back. “And don't break anything while I'm gone.”
“Yes momma.”
“I am Groot.”
The ex-Ravager chuckled as he walked up to the counter. Who would have thought he'd become such close friends with such a disparate bunch of people? Certainly not him, who took pride on being a lone wolf since Yondu gave him his own ship. He loved flying solo, stealing everything from everyone and making his way through the heart of consenting but unsuspecting females. He was a “no strings attached” kind of a guy. Or was he?
Yes, they had saved the Galaxy, and that was some big heroic shit which compensated for all the shenanigans he had done in his younger years with the Ravagers. He was very proud of it. But, truth is, having the team meant everything to him. Singing his mother's favorite songs to an enthusiastic Groot and watching him grow every day. Teaching Drax the funniest or weirdest idioms he could think of, just to see the puzzled look on his face. Exchanging tips about mechanics and stuff with Rocket, who could be a very nice companion when he decided he could trust you. Making Gamora laugh, and dance, and just… talk. Having true friends, a family. That was his proudest accomplishment.
“A new peace treaty which is about to be signed between Emperor Lrrr of Omicron Persei 8 and the Bajor delegation...”
“WHO YOU CALLIN’ RODENT, JERKFACE?!”
His proudest accomplishment. Yes.