Drax hadn't let Peter go without a toast to his successful hunt. This had led to another drink. And then another, and then another until the room was spinning for both men and dinner was all but forgotten.

And then Peter sat there, resting his head against one of Drax's biceps, finding himself not incredibly fond of the dried blood on the Destroyer's arm but enjoying the company with the man he'd found to be a shockingly good drinking partner over the past several months.

"I just… I don't get how I made her mad. I mean, we're friends, right? She's never really given any sign about… Well, I guess there's signs, but if I say anything I might run the risk of her getting pissed off at me… Or, you know, smashing my face in. So better to say nothing, right?"

"You wish to maintain your friendship with the green wench, then?"

"I guess. Maybe. I dunno. Just… Rocket? Rocket. Cleans his tail and brings his bombs to the dinner table Rocket."

"You are jealous of him."

"Him? No… No… But I feel like he's doing this just to get on my nerves… And he's done stuff before, but… Nothing like this. Now he's gone and dragged Gamora into this. He crossed a line. He crossed it with his little creepy baby feet. Probably while laughing or building something to kill someone, too. He's a bastard but he really can multitask…."

"What will your course of action be, then?"

Peter was left without answer. He sipped another swallow of dark alcohol from his mug, and noticed Groot had looked up from his pitcher of water that he had opted for for the first time since sitting down across from the men to make sure they didn't harm themselves in some fashion. Drax, too, had proven captive audience as he stared down at Peter, awaiting a response.

Peter righted himself up in his chair. He suddenly felt sobriety crashing down on him and wasn't sure if he totally liked it.

"…I think I might go kick Rocket's ass," Peter finally announced, much to Groot's dismay.

"You could also make your intentions clear with the green one," Drax added offhandedly, finishing off the last of his alcohol.

"Yeah. I'm going to go kick his ring-tailed ass. I'm going to kick his own tail UP his ass!" Peter nodded as he felt his own confidence grow, and he bolted up from his chair and across the table to Groot. "Groot! You know where they went, right?!"

Groot answered with a pair of folded arms and a stern glare at Peter.

"…Come on. Groot! Buddy! I was just joking about the kicking his ass thing! You know people say stuff in the heat of the moment!" Peter coaxed the tall, unimpressed tree-being as he reached out to lean against Groot's chair, balancing his still somewhat-drunken self by clutching onto the armrests of it.

"We. Are. Groot," came the raspy words finally and firmly.

"Yeah! I know, I know we are… I just really need to talk to him. Please? Come on. Remember who put your pot back upright when it got knocked on its side while we hit that turbulence! I even gathered the soil in my own hands and put it back in there! The soil!"

Groot's eyes narrowed, allowing Peter a direct translation—He didn't like what he was about to do.

Against his better judgment, Groot rose from his chair.

"You're the best. You are Groot," Peter patted Groot on the arm, and Groot passed him with what sounded like a sigh of defeat mixed with disdain.

"I shall also accompany you," Drax rose from his seat, at bit uneasily, as if his blood was back to pumping and all of the liquor was flowing through him in one great, big burst of drunkenness.

"…I really am going to kick his ass…" Peter murmured to himself after Groot had walked up the stairs and Peter was certain the Flora Colossus could no longer hear him.

Rocket declined to take a seat on the bed, and tried not to think about the pain in his ribcage as he sat on the floor beside the large, plush furniture while Gamora sat on the bed, examining him from a distance after having scoped out all of the details of the ornate bedroom. It was one of the fancier prisons she'd been brought to.

"Rocket, who is Lylla?" she asked again, and was greeted with the same staring towards the lone window that was covered in metal bars. "Rocket."

"It doesn't matter. What's done is done."

"Clearly you're upset by this."

"I'm upset because I just got squashed by a sharp pair of overpriced shoes, okay?!"

She was more than treading on thin ice, she realized. Giving a small sigh of defeat, she allowed for silence to fill the gap between the two. Rocket seemed to only take this as a different interrogation technique, and gave a growl after having his fill of the quiet.

"She was my… My "you", okay?!" he snapped, rising to his feet uneasily with his hands still bound together. "She was my "definitely better than I thought I ever could do and probably ever WILL do"! She was smart and patient and she actually made me feel kinda normal! Normal! And…I screwed up. I pulled a Quill and I screwed up."

"Pulled a Quill?"

"Yeah. It's my phrase for "being a complete and utter idiot". I saw how upset you were earlier today and… I thought this all would piss him off into realizing he'd been a damn moron…" Rocket's ears drooped, and he huffed a sigh. "I didn't count on any of this, though…"

"…What happened with her?"

"…That doesn't matter. We just ain't together anymore…" Rocket murmured. "And don't we have more important things to think about? Like how we have bombs attached to us?"

"She broke your heart. That's important. You'll have your revenge, as my friend. I promise you that."

"No! I don't want… I don't want revenge. She's happy. No revenge," Rocket sighed, feeling his head pounding. "The floor's hard as a rock…Can a guy get a lift…?"

Gamora reached down, lifting up her friend by the arms and then setting him at her side with enough space to allow him to take a seat comfortably on the padded black duvet.

"I probably don't got as long as any of you guys. We all know that, even if we don't talk about it because Groot gets all upset and stuff. I probably don't have another chance at finding anything like that again. But… You guys are my friends. Some of my only friends…. Okay, you're my only friends. I know how you look at him and I've seen him look at you back that same way. I may not be the sappiest guy but I can still remember what those looks were like," he spoke in a low tone that she'd only heard a few times come from him, and rarely when he was sober. His ears continued to lay flat with his head, and he found it frustrating that he couldn't wipe his eyes with his trapped paws.

"…My nose is itching," he lied up as a quick explanation to her while they sat in the darkened room together. "Hadn't even thought about her in… Over a year. Groot came along and we got busy with work and finding him decent soil. Didn't have to think about her anymore. Groot made it easy. Then you guys with your wantin' to save everyone made it even easier."

Gamora reached over and wiped underneath one of his eyes, much to his surprise.

"…This sucks. You all and this lovey-dovey friendship crap are doin' this to me. It's all your guys' fault. Stupid hippies," he sniffed out a laugh, and she too gave a small smirk.

"Would you like me to try to untie you again?"

"…Worth a shot…." he said after a moment of contemplating, and he shifted to where his back faced her. It didn't take long for his ears to prick up to the sound of footsteps, and a door slammed open. Gamora reached up to brush a hand through her hair to make herself look innocent of any other actions, and he spun back around to face away from the door and towards her to make them appear even less suspicious.

"You," one of the guards snapped and pointed over to her. "Lady Vaxtra wants you."

"One moment. Please? We were just finishing up," Gamora replied, and Rocket tilted his head at the unusually light tone she spoke with, and leaned back as she pulled in to him without any warning.

"Wait. W-What are you…?" Rocket leaned back until he was lying flat on his back, pinned against the bed. He attempted to push himself in further, but found it was no use. His already wide eyes remained open all while Gamora shut her own eyes and pressed her mouth to his muzzle.

The guards visibly cringed at the kiss, both too stunned and discomforted by it to stop Gamora. Rocket didn't even make a move to stop her. He didn't even make a move. He remained there motionless like a rag doll, attempting to take this in but his already busy mind remaining overloaded.

Gamora finally sat back up, Rocket still looking up at her, stunned, and, for one of the few times in his life, left without a single word to say.

She brought two fingers to her lips, and then reached down to press these against his muzzle. She winked before standing, and allowed the two shaken guards to lead her out of the bedroom.

Rocket stared at the ceiling as he took it all in, until her remembered he needed to blink. It was only when he began to shut his slack jaw mouth he felt the bobby pin placed underneath his tongue.

He found a renewed sense of vigor, and sat up on the bed before spitting out the pin onto his lap, "Quill, if you don't marry that lady I swear I will…. Now! To do this backwards and blind and somehow fit this under my wrists without too much mangling…"