This will be Rocket-centric with secondary focus on Peter. Movieverse with aspects from what little I know about the comics. There won't be any romance, but some pairings will be hinted at or mentioned.

"You ever been here before?" Rocket asked Peter Quill as they walked the crowded, yellow-tinted streets of planet Tartoonla. It wasn't Rocket's first choice for shopping, but it was generally a lot safer than The Hub. A Bazaar World, it was what Quill had earlier described as "a planet-sized flea market," much to Drax's confusion as to why anyone would want to purchase fleas. Vendors of all shapes and colors littered the streets with wares from all corners of the universe.

"I think Yondu took me here once when I was younger, but I don't really remember." The Terran shrugged. "I've always been awesome at acquisitions and kinda awful at selling."

"This planet is quantity-over-quality when it comes to goods, there's a ton of it and most of it isn't worth buying, but few places have more in terms of sheer variety. You can usually find better deals here too." Rocket scrambled up his friend's leg and back, his destination was Peter's left shoulder. The small mammal rested a paw near the man's other shoulder for balance.

"Woah, hey buddy!" Peter exclaimed, looking surprised rather than angry.

"Listen pal, don't get the wrong idea. I don't wanna be on your shoulder any more than you want me to. But it's crowded and the tables are above my eye-level. I'd normally ride on Groot but that's out, obviously." The tree had grown almost to Rocket's height. Groot was still on the Milano, with Drax taking care of him.

"You take the left side, I'll take the right." Quill slowly walked in the center of the aisle of stands and tables, eventually stopping to point. His face lit up. "Is that a lightsaber?"

"Those are ancient history, nobody uses photon swords anymore."

"Gamora would." Peter said it as if it was obvious.

"Nah, she prefers physical blades. More reliable, better weight." Rocket pretended that he was brandishing an invisible sword.

"Since when are you so close with Gamora?"

"Jealous?" Rocket teased as he smirked and waggled his eyebrows. The Terran rolled his eyes in response, but his mouth formed a definite pout. He was too easy to mess with sometimes. "Geez Quill, I'm just kidding, she ain't my type. Speakin' of Madam Buzzkill though, where is she? Whenever we shop for supplies she's usually over our shoulders so we don't buy things 'irresponsibly.' And for the record, particle bombs ain't irresponsible."

"She told me she'd stay on the ship. Thanos took her here once when she was younger and something happened that she doesn't wanna be reminded of."

Neither of them wanted to discuss that can of worms, so they continued onward. The cyborg noticed a table covered with the strangest junk. It appeared to be totally useless. The table was littered with ugly figurines, silly looking items, and the most backwards tech he had ever seen. There were also cryo-pods with various food items. He snorted. "What kind of junk is this?"

Peter turned, and he wore a giant smile upon seeing the junk in question. "That's not just any junk, Rocket, that's Earth junk!"

"Oh no. Me and my big mouth!" Rocket exclaimed in genuine horror. "I'm not letting you waste your money on this garbage."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure."

"A man who treasures trash has shitty taste." The raccoon grinned as large as he could at Quill. He took a closer look as Peter approached the table. "That shiny thing, what does it do?" Rocket asked, attempting to feign disinterest as he pointed to a multifaceted metallic sphere almost as large as himself. He had always liked shiny things, especially if they blew other things up.

"That's a disco ball! You hang it from the ceiling and it reflects the light, sets the perfect mood for dancing. One-way ticket to Funkytown." Quill began to dance to no music, pointing his finger and moving his arm diagonally in front of him.

"Seriously? I'll never understand you Terrans." As much as Peter infuriated him, which was almost all the time, Rocket never called him a humie to his face.

"Lemme guess, you were hoping it was a bomb?" The man smirked and gave a knowing look.

"It's that obvious?"

Quill picked up a small device, and began to fiddle with the display. It was a small and orange colored, in the shape of a thin square with a touch screen on the front. "No. WAY. This is awesome! It's a Terran music player! Look at how many songs are on it!" The human's finger scrolled up and down the display as he shoved the torture device in front of Rocket's face.

"Kill me now." Rocket groaned.

"It doesn't look like any Earth tech I'm used to, looks a lot more advanced. I recognize maybe a third of these songs."

"Still primitive as shit. I could format my communicator to hold ten times that many songs. Not that I'd want to, but I could." The small mammal gazed at the other crap for sale. "HAHAHAHAHA! You named your ship after a cookie? A cookie with chocolate? What little respect I had for you is totally gone. They ain't gonna believe this!" Rocket continued laughing.

"Ugh. I didn't name it after the cookie. On Earth there's a famous girl named Milano, I named it after her." Peter sighed and covered his face with his right hand.

"Yeah, I'm not buying it Star-Loser."

Quill's brow furrowed and his look hardened, staring intensely at nothing in particular. "Figurines…Milanos…music…" He mumbled to himself.

"What's a matter Quill?"

"Nothing, just a weird coincidence."

The merchant selling the Terran goods had been busy at his adjacent table with more desirable wares, but he finally noticed Peter and Rocket and shifted behind the Earth-junk table. His gaunt purple face seemed incapable of smiling.

"How did you get this stuff?" Peter sounded really interested. Rocket knew that was a bad thing. You sound like you really want something, they'll make you pay more for it.

"The more important question is why." Rocket crossed his arms. He couldn't imagine anyone else wanting this shit.

The merchant was unfazed by their questions. "Someone had retrieved these from Terra and sold them to me. As to why, that planet has become of interest ever since they repelled a Chitauri invasion."

"WHAT?" Rocket and Quill shouted in unison.

"Maybe they ain't so primitive after all." Rocket was dumbfounded.

"How much for the whole table?" Peter failed to mask his excitement.

"5000 units."

Rocket refused to let his friend pay that much for this crap, so after few minutes of haggling they had agreed upon 2500 units. The cyborg thought even that was way overpriced, but at least the seller brought the price down by half. He almost seemed too willing to haggle. Rocket chalked it up to Terran goods being shitty and hard to sell.

"Can you switch to my other shoulder? You're heavier than you look."

"Wimp." Rocket retorted flatly, but crawled to perch on Peter's other shoulder anyway. "I'm hungry, how bout we head over there for a lunch break." The human nodded in agreement and approached the plaza.

Upon reaching a tacky fountain and Quill sitting beside it, Rocket jumped off and dug through the giant bag of Terran junk looking for the food pods. He snatched one at random, and it contained a sandwich wrapped in yellow paper. The pod opened with a hiss and the mammal hastily unwrapped the sandwich. It was apparently called an Egg McMuffin. The supposed muffin portions were nothing like the kind of muffin Quill had introduced him to. Between them was an orange square of cheese, a soft white/yellow substance, apparently the egg, and topped with a thin piece of salty meat. Much to Rocket's surprise, it was absolutely delicious, even still cold out of the cryo-pod. He scarfed it down despite knowing it would be better to savor it.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but this Terran sandwich may be the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life." Rocket spoke slowly, as if the sandwich held the secrets of the universe. Peter raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm serious! I'm gonna make you go there and get more." The raccoon had always wondered why Peter never went back to Terra even though he always seemed so obsessed with it and his past, but Rocket didn't expect it to be a big deal.

"If you make me go back to Earth, I'll make you go back to Halfworld." Quill's tone and face were still casual, but his voice had a hint of seriousness to it.

"WHAT THE FLARK, QUILL!" The cyborg backed away, terror in his eyes.

"Wait, Rocket I didn't-" Peter appeared concerned, but Rocket didn't care. His instincts – no, he didn't have instincts, animals had instincts – had kicked in and he scampered away on all fours as fast as he possibly could. Being underfoot, the crowd, none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting away from the humie he had thought was his friend. Rocket ducked into a quiet alley, and noticed a cloaked figure slowly walking in his direction. The being wore a hood to obscure their face, but peeking out from it was green skin and a bit of magenta hair, and the mammal knew exactly who it was.

Gamora noticed Rocket and frowned. All pretense of being a tough guy was out the window as Rocket was constantly shaking. He began to cautiously back up away from her. "Rocket, it's just me. Trust me as I trust you." She spoke gently while slowly presenting her hands in front of her to show she meant no harm. The frantic raccoon hesitated, but eventually calmed down. Calm wasn't really the right word, since he was still hyperventilating, but less rapidly. He could no longer trust Peter, but she would understand. It would be as if one of them told her they would take her back to Thanos. "Rocket, what happened?"

Rocket stopped shaking and he hunched over, paws on his knees, catching his breath. Gamora kneeled and softly rested a hand on his shoulder. They held there for a long moment, but he eventually spoke up. "Q-Quill, he…threatened to make me go back to Halfworld! I won't let them take me apart again!" What he said was true, but there was more to it than just that, he also couldn't face who he left behind.

"Peter is many things, but cruel is not one of them. You know he didn't mean it. Let's head back to the ship."

"Hell no. I don't wanna be anywhere near him, and he's gonna go back there. Unless you're suggesting we leave him stranded here and take the Milano, I could get behind that plan."

Quill ran into the alley they were in with a worried expression on his face.

"STAY AWAY!" Rocket hissed as his fur bristled and ears flattened. He pulled a small gun out and aimed it at Quill, wishing he had brought a larger one. "Take me somewhere, anywhere away from him!"

"Are you going to give me back to Thanos too?" Gamora sounded stern.

"Look, I didn't mean it. It was just a stupid, dumb joke. I'm sorry." The Terran sounded sincere.

She softened slightly. "I know that, but I suspect he will need more convincing."

Peter glanced across the connecting alley and his eyes got wide. "Shit. We have other problems right now. We need to get back to the ship, pronto!" He began running.

"What kind of problem?" Gamora ran with Peter, picking up Rocket who flailed but didn't have the time or energy to protest. He wasn't in any state to run anyway. Unfortunately he dropped the gun, at least it was only a small and unimportant one.

"Yondu," Quill muttered under his breath.

But it was too late. Whistling could be heard as the Yaka arrow hovered in the air and spun around the trio menacingly. Yondu and Kraglin approached them from opposite ends of the alley. The captain smiled his jagged smile, and Rocket knew that couldn't be a good thing. "Well, lookee what we got here." The smile quickly switched to a frown as he focused on Quill. "You're in a lotta trouble, boy."