A few days had passed, by extraorbital standards, and everyone on the ship practiced being Rocket more than Rocket ever anticipated.

Rocket spent most of his time not upgrading the ship or weapons systems teaching Gamora how to scent-track, rough-house with Groot, meditate with Drax, or work with Peter (Gods help Rocket) on acting like an innocent, cute animal (emote with your ears, idjit, because smiling makes you look like you're gonna bite someone's head off). Peter's sad furry orphan look actually elicited attention from the locals on Wixya the previous day, and when they'd all returned to the Milano that night, Peter proudly dumped about 8,000 worth of unit strips on the table before turning tail to change back.

"Please tell me you didn't steal or con these from people," Gamora huffed, counting the strips.

"Not a single unit, " Peter replied from the head, his voice changing back to his own mid-sentence. "I just sat on a street corner and looked as utterly helpless as possible. It helps that they couldn't tell the difference between me growling and a stomach growl."

"You conniving…" Drax started, as he looked at the pile, wide-eyed.

"I didn't force anyone, and I didn't ask. Everyone gave freely," Peter said, stepping out of the bathroom in just his pants, tiny clothing draped on his shoulder. "Seriously, we do actually need the money, and you guys know it. The first mission Nova commissioned us for isn't starting for another two weeks and the provisions they gave us are running way low."

"Still, I don't like it," Drax added. "But if people gave this to you, I have nothing else to add. This should last us until our first payment, and then some, if we are frugal."

"Da'ast," Rocket said, awestruck. "This is more than I made in a week of bounties, usually."

"m' goot," Groot piped in, leaning half out of his pot, eyes gleaming as he looked at the haul.

"Yeah, well," Peter said, shrugging. "Most people definitely recognized me as 'that little hero on the holos that shot Ronan in the face', so…"

Drax smiled. "I feel slightly less uncomfortable with the funds now."

"Heroes, huh," Rocket said, pulling out a strip and holding it up.

"Just don't make a habit of it," Gamora chided, scanning the strips for the ship's account.

That evening, while still drydocked- Peter decided to grab supplies where they were while they could, Rocket was tangled up in a nest of wire in the area above cold storage in the galley, trying to repair a broken refrigeration coil.

"Gams, get me the antifreeze, couldja?"

"Certainly," Gamora replied, walking down the galley stairs to the storage cabinet hidden underneath, to see another jumpsuited Rocket twitch his ear in indignation.

"Da'ast, I think somebody took one'a my suits. Hey, Gams, you know who? I made everyone their own clothes so people wouldn't do that."

"I… what?"

"What, what?" Rocket's tail flicked in surprise, tilting his head slightly.

Gamora blinked. This wasn't someone transformed on the ship turned into Rocket- the facial expressions, body language, vernacular- all of it was Rocket's, not Drax's tiny stomping and flat tone, Peter's sashays and flailing language, or Groot's jumpiness and awkward pauses as he contorted his mouth to speak complex words.

"Come with me," Gamora said simply, gesturing back to the upper deck.

Rocket tilted his head, ears cocked sideways, as he bounded up with Gamora. "Sure, I guess…?"

"Hey, Gams," Rocket replied from behind the storage unit, peeking his snout out of the panel he'd been body-deep in. "Found it yet? I..." Rocket trailed off as he sniffed. "Hey, who's dressed as me?"

"What…?" Rocket-from-belowdecks bellowed. "What the flarg are you talking about?"

"Uh, yeah, that's what I'd be askin' ya. I thought none'a'ya got the mind of the person you was transformin' ta, just the body." Rocket-fixing-electronics licked his hand before diving back into the machinations of the cold storage system. Gamora and Rocket-from-belowdecks stood dumbfounded.

"But… that… I…" Belowdecks stammered, confused. "Nobody else knows how to repair the ship proper-like. This ain't possible. 'Less we start becomin' more like each other the more we change…" Rocket shuddered at the thought, fur puffing out wide.

Cold Storage Rocket began laughing, a gratingly high-pitched chitter, then stopped short hearing the sound. "Guys, it's me, Peter. Gamora, I can't believe you didn't realize it for the past three hours."

"You… I…" Rocket- the real Rocket on the floor of the galley- sputtered.

"Look, you were out, the food delivery was coming in four hours, and the cold storage wasn't working. I know how to fix my own ship, but normally I'd have a hell of a time getting inside. And I stole a jumpsuit because my one set of clothes for this size," he remarked, gesturing to his fuzzy self, "is in the wash, and I had no idea how to run the replicator," Peter added flatly, grabbing a screwdriver and pliers, gripping one with his free paw and putting the other in his mouth. He spat it out inside the wiring, grabbing one more tool from the oversized box just within his grasp outside the unit. "Gamora was the one who saw my ass hanging out and started asking me questions, thinking I was actually you. I thought she'd figure something was off hours ago, but I just kept going. Just a sec'," Peter finished, as he dove back inside, grunting, followed by a few swear words and the sound of an arc of electricity. "Still need that antifreeze and it should be good to go. But it does prove a point."

"That you're a flarking a-hole?" Rocket sneered, arms crossed.

"No, that using this little skill of ours doesn't just have to be about squeezing into tight places, seeing in the dark, being relatively immune to bullets, or lifting up trucks. I thought for a long time why any of you- other than maybe Rocket for my height, but there's always Gamora or Drax for that and then some- why any of you would ever want to be me. Other than 'can hold Infinity stone for a few extra seconds without being blown to smithereens', I don't really have anything special going for me that isn't covered better by someone else among us. Okay, so I'm the best among us at lying, diplomacy, flying and shit, but those are skills I've learned, and we don't get them when we become each other. Which sucks, because I kinda wanted to be as smart as Rocket, even just for a bit. Seriously, man, you run rings around me talking about the fuel intake system," Peter commented, squirming, top half out of the unit now, paw out. Rocket softened a little at the compliment. "Look, the point I'm trying to make is this- for anybody watching the five of us, I'm clearly the weakest link, the one most likely to be captured or worse. And, no matter how much we all practice being each other, we're never going to be as good as the original. We just don't have the years of experience we've gained. But what if we switched places? What if, I dunno, Groot was me, whoever we're fighting captures him for ransom or something, and once he's inside an enemy base, he turns back and just rips things to shreds? Or Rocket, because, yeah, I'm starting to understand what all these crazy smells and sounds mean, but you'll always have the upper hand. Paw."

Gamora blinked. "That's… unusually prudent."

"Eh," Rocket shrugged. "Ya have a not-shitty-idea every once in a while." He ran downstairs in a flurry and came barreling back up with a container of antifreeze, passing it to Peter.

"Aww, an apology?" Peter asked, flicking Rocket's ear with a claw and ducking back inside the unit to finish his repairs.

"Apologize to me, ya idjit," Rocket said, sighing and shaking his head.

"Well, I ordered a PQX-186-R laser cannon that's going to need to be installed- or stripped for parts to make something custom- your choice." Peter keenly heard Rocket's low whistle of appreciation as he capped the system back up and slid himself out of the unit completely. "Can I have a hand screwing the panel back in?" he asked, pointing at the large grate at Gamora's feet. Gamora lifted it clean up, holding it in place as Rocket and Peter scurried to secure it. Rocket nodded at Peter, admiring the handiwork, and sharply kicked him in the groin, causing Peter to double over on all fours in pain, high pitched screech and all.

"That's for bein' an ass," Rocket grunted, before reaching out a hand to help him up. "And this is for fixin' the unit. I hate dealin' with coolant systems; the gunk never gets outta my fur. Let's go make some extra clothes for everyone in your size, because I'm sure you would hate to have someone rummagin' through yours to get dressed," he added sarcastically, practically dragging Peter down to the workshop. Gamora rolled her eyes and laughed, but secretly smiled. The two of them were adorable.

Gamora fiddled with the hem of her coat, trying to ignore the fact that her anatomy had now included male reproductive organs. As Rocket, it wasn't as big of a concern, an entirely new anatomy was the larger instance on her mind, and keeping sensory overload in check was often her focus as she practiced skittering through the Milano on tiny, clawed feet. Here, though, the only difference was additional height, a flatter, more muscular chest, rougher hands, less hair (on her head, at least)… and that. She realized that Drax, with his even bigger size but humanoid anatomy would likely possess something similar, sighed, and mussed her too-short hair.

Her ears felt cold.

She walked to the cargo room, feeling embarrassed and sluggish. As fast as she and Rocket were, Peter's body felt heavy and slow, with deafened hearing and muted sight. She understood why using someone- anyone- other than Peter as a decoy for him made a lot of sense. Peter, of the five of them (as Rocket did occasionally turn into Peter himself to practice walking- Gamora supposed he preferred it to turning into her for the same reason that her being Peter made her a little uncomfortable), had the longest way to go as far as learning new skills.

Gamora realized quickly this was not the case. Peter just had a very different skill set.

"Hey, handsome," Peter joked, as he looked up from laying out a few things on the cargo bay floor. "Gamora, you really should spread your legs out a bit more when walking. Swagger. Put some weight behind it."

"How did you know I was Gamora?" she asked. "You had us all wear the same outfit."

"In the same way I know that's Rocket," Peter replied, pointing to the stairs. Another identical Peter was descending. Gamora definitely recognized the nervousness coming from Peter #3, but would never have been able to place if it were Drax, Rocket, or Groot.

"The flarg? Howdja know without me even openin' my mouth?" Rocket asked in surprise.

"Well, other than me giving you some pointers on diction, you act like you're still in your own body. Your eyes are darting around the room, sizing everything up, you're constantly craning your neck upwards, then adjusting for the fact that you don't need to look up, and, most obviously, you're walking leaning slightly backward, since you're short your tail for balance."

"Well shit," Rocket replied, flopping onto an exposed crate.

"In the same way that I doubt I'll ever be able to track an enemy by scent like you can, I'm not expecting you guys to master acting, but you at least need to pass as a swaggering asshole, me," Peter said, as he walked over and grabbed Rocket's legs, twisting them into a new seating position. "Better," Peter added. Gamora sat beside Rocket and tried to match the posture, feeling awkward for taking up so much space with her legs spread open.

More footfals from Rocket's workshop, and Peters #4 and #5 came out in unison. Peter noticed one flinch slightly near a low beam and pointed out who was Groot and who was Drax.

"Telling you two apart without you both talking is a little harder. You're both heavy, and walk with a similar stomp," Peter explained, as the final two sat down, just as awkwardly. "But Groot- you're used to being too tall for everything, even though you're not even Rocket's height right now, and you flinched when passing a low beam."

"Perceptive," Drax replied. Groot nodded in agreement.

"Like I said to Gamora and Rocket- not expecting you to be a master at mimicry. We all have our strengths. But I do need you all good enough to fool someone into thinking they actually have me. So, we're going to start with the big one- walking. Two of you stomp, one of you toddles, and one still thinks they're walking in heels. We're going to fix that. Drax, you're the closest to my stride, so I'm using you as an example. Good?"

Drax nodded, considerably less uncomfortable with being Peter than the other three, given the closeness in biology, standing up and stood t Peter's side. The sight was a mix of hilarious and just plain odd. Peter started with a few exaggerated steps before walking in stride, and Drax waited until he circled around the crates to copy. As Gamora, Groot, and Rocket felt confident, they joined the little parade in walking outside the set circle. Eventually, Peter stepped inside the crates, and observed, occasionally making remarks about posture or movement.

"Rocket, straighten your back a bit. I know I slouch a little, but you need to be a bit more comfortable walking at this height before you mimic me."

"Groot, not bad. Just hold your head up a little. You don't need to look down."

"Gamora, slow down. Imagine you're moving through caramel or molasses or a swamp."

"Drax, you need to stop stomping. Relax, man!"

And after a few minutes and a pleased nod from Peter, "Yeah, okay, not bad for a first go. Sit."

Everyone else found seats and Peter shrugged, looking between them.

"Okay, now I'm going to have all of you mock me," Peter said, smiling.

"Mock you?"

"Yeah. I want to see you all do your best impression of me."

Rocket cracked a smile and began without any other explanation. "Ooooh, lookkit me, I'm Star Lord, ruler of the universe, and the most handsome SOB in the galaxyyyyy…"

"Nice," Peter interjected.

"Wait… what?"

"You didn't slur your words. Sure, it was a mockery of everything I stand for," Peter said, puffing out his chest and adding a doofy smile, "but you were so focused on making fun of me, your diction matched mine more than when you speak. So, good. Who's going to make me look like an ass next?"

Drax snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am Peter Quill," he boomed, loudly and sarcastically, a tone that took the rest of the team by surprise. "I am a bastard and an asshole and I seduce strangers just for a quick lay with complete disregard to their emotional state!"

Gamora snorted, but she did notice more emotion in Drax's voice than normal.

This might actually work.

"Waddya want, boy? And why no vid feed?"

"Well, uh, you remember how we all touched the stone? Well, all of us except Groot?"

"The tree? Yeah."

"Well, it kinda had… aftereffects."

Yondu snorted. "What, did it burn away yer pretty little face?"

"We were all inside each other's heads. While we were holding it, we were one person. It's sort of stayed like that." Peter switched on the video feed, showing Yondu four identical Peters.

"Holy mother of… well, fuck me, boy."

"One of us is real," said the second Peter, holding baby Groot's planter, as Groot cooed and curled a tendril around his finger.

"Well, we're all real. One of us is really Peter," said #3, shrugging.

"We're not stuck like this," said #1. "It's actually kinda cool. We can all turn into each other."

"Yeah, but being Rocket is weird as fuck," added #4, shuddering. "I actually wanted to clean the damn ship when I was done, everything smelled and tasted so strong."

"E-yuck," the four said in derision, #2 sticking out a tongue for good measure.

"Sounds like a'barrel a'laughs. Whaddya need me for?" Yondu rolled his eyes and sighed. Now he was really glad the containment sphere Peter had given him was fake. He was pretty sure he didn't want that kind of ability, he liked his own body just fine, thank you.

"A bet," replied #4.

"Kraglin knows which one of us is real, or will know. I sent him some encrypted data. Get it right, we send you half our paychecks from Nova for the next month," added #3.

"No shits?"

"We already pulled this stunt on Nova Prime for extra pay last week and she lost," interjected #1, as he scratched the back of his head. "Think you can do better?"

"Rules?" Yondu asked, leaning forward from his cockpit chair.

"No asking about stuff before the Infinity Stone. There's no way all of us would know everything about Peter's childhood. Unless I'm Peter and double-bluffing you, turd blossom," smirked #3.

"How original," remarked Yondu. "I ain't stupid, you're too dry and literal. You're the wrestler jerk what left five jackets on the floor of my ship, the last time you was on it. You to his left?"

"Sup?" asked #4.

"You've barely spoken."

"Yeah, so?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Don't matter, you're the green one. You're shifting yer weight between yer legs like ya ain't used to bein' a man down there. Almost got me, but my eye's better than most. Which means the first two- one a' ya's the beast. This'n's tough. If I 'member, he's got just as bad a mouth as ya do, Quill. And I know how much he loves that freakin' twig a' his, so the one holdin' the pot would be the rodent, 'cept ya'd know I'd know that. So the rat's on the end."

"So you think I'm the right one?" #2 asked, as the small Groot cooed in his arms.

"Fuck no. The twig is. and yer the twig."

Rocket, Peter #1, let out a low whistle. "Damn. All five of us? You win. Seriously, we didn't even think we could turn into Groot as a sapling, but, yeah. That's Peter," Rocket said, flicking Peter-as-sapling in the head. Peter pouted and crossed his arms, but it looked far more cute than irate.

"I remember there was a twig in yer hand when holdin' the stone, saw the tail end of ya blastin' Ronan in the face and that's not somethin' ya go around forgettin'," Yondu replied, smug. "So I took a guess that ya were tryin' to screw me over. If all five a' ya were Pete, I might've been stuck guessing between the rodent and my idiot. Nice try."

Peter grinned, and mimed wrapping himself in something, and Rocket grabbed a towel and carefully pulled Peter from his pot. Peter began growing up and up, bark softening to skin, and Rocket wrapped a towel around his midsection as he returned to normal.

"Sorry. Breathing and talking as a tree are still kinda difficult," Peter said, shrugging, holding the ends of the fuzzy green bath towel on one side. "I also bet Kraglin you'd be right. He didn't think you'd get all five of us correct. So yeah, we'll send you half a month's pay, but he owes us half of his haul for two months. We're probably going to break even."

"Ya bastard," Yondu replied with a hint of pride, while Kraglin looked annoyed as he checked the file Drax sent and cursed audibly.

"Learned from the best," Peter shot back.

"Jus' do us all a favor an' put on some pants," Yondu replied. "Also, thanks for lettin' me know about that party trick."

"Don't go spreading it around," Gamora said, sternly. "You two, and only two others in Nova know about this outside of us. We showed it to you because, and I cannot believe I am saying this, we do trust you in an emergency. We'll send you our code phrases in case we ever need to contact you in cover." Gamora cracked her neck, shifting slightly. "You'll be appropriately compensated, of course. Untraceable units."

"Pleasure doin' business wit' ya," Yondu replied, signing off comms.

"Perfect, guys," Peter responded once comms were disabled. "Nice little hint, Gamora. I was wondering how you'd do it, good use of subtle body language," he added, turning to her. "And Drax, you were awesome. Until the deliberate flat voice 'slip up', you really did pull me off, and you didn't need to throw in metaphors. See? You can pretend to be me without doing wordplay. Tone works pretty well, too."

Drax smiled. "I am getting better, aren't I? Acting is actually quite enjoyable."

"Rocket and Groot, smart on the double bluff with the pot."

"Eh," Groot replied. "We know how to think like a thief."

"Anyway, that was way impressive. Nudging Yondu to the right answers without making Kraglin think we'd done it on purpose. I'm, uh, going to go get dressed, now. Good work, everyone," Peter finished, as he turned on his heel and went back to his bunk.

"Hey, hairless," Peter's voice came from the other side of the curtain. Peter recognized it as Rocket still in Peter's form, and slid the curtain back, his pants thankfully on and a shirt halfway over his head.

"I, ah," Rocket started. "I found out the other day that things taste a lot stronger as a humy. I kinda wanted to grab food and a couple a' beers, planetside, 'n Groot needs time to grow the long way 'round in his pot."

"Drinking buddy?" Peter asked, as he pulled the grey shirt over his head.

"…yeah? Somethin' like."

"I don't want people to see two of me," Peter replied.

"I'm less mass and will prob'ly get drunk faster than you," Rocket replied.

Peter rolled the curtain back over his bunk with a swift motion and Rocket heard the sounds of clothing flapping around. In short order, Peter crawled out from under his bunk as Rocket, shifting in a stiff blue jumpsuit- it made more sense to wear than nearly-matching jeans, tee, and jacket to Rocket.

Rocket bent over, and locked the weapon holster on Peter's back in place, and offered an arm for a ride into town for the evening.

It was probably the closest mutual apology they would give to each other.