I know that ain't nobody perfect

I give props to those who deserve it

And believe me y'all, he's worth it

So here's to the future 'cause we got through the past

I finally found someone that can make me laugh

Peter grabbed a nearby guard who'd narrowly missed being hit by the Watchtower, disarming him and handing his gun off to Gamora. "Where's my stuff?"

The guard sputtered, glancing behind him at the other escapees, trying to decide what to do.

"If you won't tell him," Gamora said, holding a knife to the man's throat - where the hell did she get a knife?! - "you'll tell me."

Shit, she was scary. The man pointed, offered to open the door for them, babbled on about his family - husband and kids and blah blah blah. Peter was pretty sure he was full of it and had no actual family. Gamora physically dragged the man to the door to open it.

"Please," he begged as the door slid up.

Gamora rolled her eyes, knocked the guy unconscious and bent down to get the wristband off his arm. "Idiot," he heard her mutter as he walked inside.

Peter immediately ran to the window opposite a massive shipyard, ignoring the boxes of belongings. Not like they'd be able to get far with the orb, even if they got his ship before he did. He scanned up and down the rows of ships frantically. God, he hoped the Milano was in there. His shoulders sagged with relief when he saw it. He grabbed Riley by the wrist to make sure at least one of them knew which ship it was, in case they got separated.

"There! Get my ship!" he said, pointing.

Riley squinted out the window, following his finger. "The orange and blue one?"

"Yeah. The Milano," he said proudly.

She turned back and blinked at him. "The…like Alyssa Milano?"

"Yeah!" he said, excited that she knew who he meant. Fucking finally! "Is she still the greatest actress ever?"

Riley arched an eyebrow at him. "How old were you when you left Earth?"

"Eight, why?"

The corners of her mouth pulled upward and she went back to the box with her belongings, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"What?"

"They crumpled my pants up into a ball!" Rocket complained, turning to if they'd done the same to Riley's. "That's rude! They folded yours!"

"You think if you were nicer they might've folded them?" Riley teased, her smile growing when Rocket flipped her off.

Peter crossed the room to find his own things and noticed Riley carefully holding a small package and storing it discreetly in a pocket. He made a mental note to ask about it later, then called the box with his stuff down and opened it, pulling his belongings out as quickly as he could. Clothes, jacket, belt, orb, quad blasters…. No walkman. Where the hell was it?

"The orb's there, let's go!" Gamora ordered from behind him.

Clothes, bag, orb…no walkman. "Wait! Wait, wait, wait…."

"What?" Gamora's voice was tight and angry.

"That bastard didn't put it back?" he muttered, panicking as he went through his things again. Not there. Shit.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him from checking a fourth time. "What's missing?" Riley asked him.

Peter pursed his lips and pushed to his feet, then took a quick glance around the room. . Everyone but Riley stood by the door, ready to make their way to his ship. Shit shit shit.

"Okay, take this," he handed Riley his bag, which held almost all of his belongings. "Get to the ship, I'll be right there."

"What?"

Gamora sighed. "What are you going to do?"

He grinned. "Just keep the Milano close by. Trust me!"

"But you -."

Turning his smile on Riley, he interrupted her protest, "Trust me! Just keep the ship close."

Without waiting for a reply, he took his shit and started off in the opposite direction. That bastard had his walkman, his music, his gift from his mom, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let him keep it. That music was his mom's gift to him, not some big blue a-hole!

As they ran to the Milano, Riley stuffed her clothes and the package into Quill's bag and flung it over her back securely. If they ran into any guards - which, what were the odds they'd make it to the ship with no trouble during a prison break? - she'd need her hands free to fight.

Gamora led the way with Riley, Rocket, and the tree making up the middle, and Drax at the rear guard. It made sense - while she could fight, she sure as hell wasn't a galactic assassin or a batshit crazy ball of muscle. And, what? Rocket was going to bite them? Maybe it was a fucking miracle they got as far as they had in this escape.

Shouting filled her ears, then a warrior's cry, as she approached what she hoped would be the hall leading to the Milano. As soon as she rounded the corner, she saw Gamora charging forward, sword raised, and a handful of guards on her heels. Riley put her hand to her mouth and quietly laughed when she realized the shouting was Drax hurling nonsensical insults as he tackled the guards two at a time. There went the element of surprise. Or quiet.

"Shit," Riley sighed before diving into the fray. She ducked a punch, bringing her knee into the midsection of her assailant, then hit back with her elbow to knock her out. But the guard proved to be more resilient than that and popped right back up on her feet. "Seriously? What are you, Supergirl?"

"I'm no girl," the bulky orange woman growled as she charged.

"No, it's -." Riley dodged her fist just barely and before she could take the woman out, the tree knocked her to the ground. She turned to blink up at him, and he grinned widely down at her. "Thanks," she panted.

"I am Groot."

"Right," she sighed. "I'm Riley, but can we do this later?" Without waiting for Groot's reply, she pushed ahead with her taser gun at the ready and took aim at a Xandarian guard pinning down Gamora.

The assassin righted herself with a nod before diving back in. "How verbose," Riley muttered to herself. Before she could join Gamora, Groot reached out his arm and grew the branches to wrap around the remaining guards and toss them over the ledge.

Stars, she was going to have to stop being so damned surprised by these people. Shaking her head, she followed Rocket and Gamora to the Milano. She dug through Quill's bag and found the key, but Rocket grabbed it from her hands and ran to the cockpit.

"Hey!" she shouted. "Fucking rodent…."

Groot and Drax hopped aboard and, while she grumbled to herself she knew there was nothing she could do about Rocket. It wasn't as though she could've piloted the damned thing herself. Instead, she found an alcove to change into her regular clothes while the ship took off. By the time she returned to the front deck, the Milano was already floating in space, waiting for Quill.

"Where the hell is he?" the raccoon groused. "And how the hell is he going to meet us out here in the middle of freakin' space?"

Gamora bit out, "He declined to share that information."

"He'll be here," Riley put in, scanning the space between the ship and the prison. If only she believed her own words. Honestly, she couldn't even begin to fathom what the hell he'd been thinking. What, was he going to steal a smaller ship and dock with them? And how the hell was he going to manage that by himself?

"Screw this," Rocket muttered. "I ain't waitin' for some humie with a death wish." He turned back to Gamora. "You got the orb, right?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, grabbing Quill's bag off Riley and searching it.

"Oh, come on!" Riley blurted out. "What is this, steal from Riley day?" Not to mention,the man helped save all their butts in the prison and they were going to abandon him? It didn't sit right with her. At all.

Not that it mattered. Gamora came up empty-handed in her search of the bag. "What?!"

Riley almost laughed. She hadn't really searched the bag, only used it to store her clothes. Even when she was getting dressed, it hadn't occurred to her to look inside. Smart move, Quill.

"That's it," Rocket bit out. "I ain't waiting around to be blown to bits, we're out of here!"

"No!" Gamora shouted. "We're not leaving without the orb."

"Or Quill," Riley added in. "Not that I'm thrilled to agree with her on any level, but we're not leaving him."

"Behold!" Drax muttered, stopping any impending argument.

Riley pushed to the front of the ship and looked out the window just in time to see Quill shooting through space toward the ship with only some kind of mask for protection. How the hell was he not freezing out there? She ran to the back of the ship to open the hatch for him. There were no blankets in sight as she ran, but once he was safe inside she'd find some - the poor guy would have to be damn near a Terran-cicle. Holy shit.

Not long after the outer hatch flew open, it slammed shut and the hatch in the floor moved. Quill climbed up, shivering from the cold, and deactivated his mask.

"This one shows spirit!" Drax laughed. "He shall make a keen ally in the battle against Ronan!"

Riley ignored him and reached out to help Quill. "Shit, you're freezing!"

"Space is cold," he mumbled, eyes wide as he tried to gain his balance.

"Companion!" Drax muttered. "What were you retrieving?"

Quill handed him a walkman and started off toward the cockpit, pushing Riley aside.

She ignored Drax's remark behind her and followed Quill. "What the hell are you doing? You need to warm up!"

"We need to get the hell out of here," he shot back, dropping into one of the seats and fiddling with the controls. The cold made his movements jerky, causing the ship to jerk as he maneuvered it.

"You didn't trust us with the orb," Gamora bit out.

Quill's trembling had subsided only slightly and he smiled through it. "Was right though, wasn't I?"

As the ship pulled away from the Kyln, Riley finally started to relax. She didn't give two shits what this orb was, as long as she got somewhere she could safely store what she stole from the Church.

Rocket glared at Quill as he vacated the seat and went back into the ship, grumbling about how they had nearly been killed for some dumbass humie and his junk. Calling Quill an idiot, despite the fact that he'd managed to outsmart them all with his stunt with the orb.

Riley watched him go and dropped into the seat he'd left, smirking. "Good thinking with the orb, Quill."

"You know, you can call me Peter, right?" he said, lips twitching up in a half smile. His hands were still shaking from the cold.

Rather than acknowledge him, she said, "Did you want me to get you a blanket or something?"

He shook his head. "I'll be fine. Soon as we're underway and I get the autopilot engaged, I'll have a hot shower. Need to rinse the smell of that damned prison off anyway." The half smile turned into a smirk as he glanced at her. "You could join me."

Laughing, she pushed up out of her seat and called back over her shoulder as she headed for the galley, "Somehow I don't think that'd be a terribly productive shower, Peter." Not that she was entirely opposed to it, but it was hardly the time or place. Things to do, friends to save. She needed to plan her next move whenever they got to….wherever the hell they were headed.

Peter looked at himself in the small mirror in his room. Freshly cleaned, hair exactly how he wanted it - both face and head. He practiced a few flirty looks in the mirror, then smirked. Two hot chicks on his ship. Not that he thought he stood a chance with Gamora. Or that he'd turn her away. There was something about a woman that could string him up and have her way with him…. No, he was thinking about Riley. That remark about it not being a productive shower? He had to know what the hell she'd meant by it. He wasn't disagreeing, more looking for a demonstration.

Grinning at his reflection, he muttered, "Good luck, Star Lord." Use the name you want her to be screaming, he thought happily.

With a final glance in the mirror, he walked out. He wasn't prepared for the screaming match on the other side of his door.

"You wanted to abandon him, fly away with his ship!" Riley's raised voice snapped. "Not to mention the whole Thanos thing! I know what he does to people; I've seen it!"

"Oh, please," Gamora scoffed. "I've never seen anyone in the Universal Church of Truth complain."

"Not at first. You're not there for…." Riley's voice cut off in a choked sound.

"What, you expect me to believe you're here for altruistic reasons? You of all people don't have the moral high ground here," Gamora snapped.

Peter took off in the direction of the voices and skidded to a stop just in time to see Riley clenching her fists and glaring. "I'm here for her. Not that I'd expect you to know what it's like to have friends."

Before he could even think about breaking up the fight or ask who 'her' was, he saw Rocket taking apart his ship, fiddling with parts entirely too close to the drawer he kept 'The Present' in.

"Shit," he hissed. "Hey! Hey! Ranger Rick! What the hell are you doing? You can't just take apart my ship without asking me!" Peter picked up the small spherical object the raccoon had been tinkering with, and held it out. "What the hell is this? What part of my ship was it?"

"Don't touch that!" Rocket muttered, taking it back gingerly. "It's a bomb."

What? "I'm sorry, a bomb?!" Peter exclaimed. Son of a bitch! Why the hell was the rodent making bombs from parts of his damned ship?

"Yeah."

"And you just leave it lying around?!"

Rocket shrugged nonchalantly, as though the tiny bastard wasn't holding a bomb in his paw. "I was gonna put it in a box."

"A box? What the hell's a box gonna do?!" Son of an effing bitch! Peter must've been out of his damned mind when he agreed to this shit.

Ignoring Peter's shock and outrage, Rocket slid a drawer open and reached for 'The Present.' "What about this one?"

Peter kicked the drawer shut hard, not caring if the asshole's paw got caught, and shouted, "No, leave it! Shut up!" It would serve him right if it did, nosy bastard.

Then another object - shaped like a smoothly sloping tower - caught his eye . Gods, he almost hated to ask. "And what is that?"

Rocket's eyes followed where he was pointing. "Oh, that's for if you want to get really hardcore." There was a brief pause where Peter almost asked what was more hardcore than a bomb, but Rocket kept going. "Or if you wanna blow up moons."

"I'm sorry, did he just say 'blow up moons'?" Riley exclaimed, finally distracted from her fight with Gamora. "Why the hell would we blow up moons? What are you, a damned Sith Lord?"

"Nobody's blowing up moons!" Peter shouted. Maybe he'd made a mistake. Holy shit. He needed to get these a-holes off his ship, and fast! "Sith Lord?" he muttered to Riley.

She shrugged. "Star Wars is a classic."

He grinned at her, then turned back to the group and spread out a map on the table in the centre of the room. "I'm gonna need your buyer's coordinates," he muttered to Gamora.

She waved him off, though. "We're heading in the right direction for now."

"You know, if we're gonna work together," he muttered, picking up the orb from where it rested on the table, "you might wanna try trusting me. Maybe just a little bit."

Gamora snorted a laugh and took back the orb, holding it up between them. "Remind me, how much do you trust me?"

Okay, that was a fair point. He had tricked them back at the Kyln. And trust was a two way street, even if the people he needed to trust - he glanced at Drax - were horrifyingly capable of ripping him in two.

"I'd trust you a lot more if you told me what this was," he said, taking the orb back from Gamora. "Because I'm guessing it's some sort of weapon."

"If it's a weapon, we should use it against Ronan," Drax muttered, eyes fixed on the orb in Peter's hand. An irresponsible, insane focus lit his eyes.

"This'll end well," Riley muttered sarcastically, stepping up to the table next to Peter.

Peter smiled down at her, and ignored Gamora and Drax's bickering until the word 'murder' broke his concentration. "No, no, no, no, no!" he exclaimed. "Nobody's killing anybody on my damned ship!"

Drax stepped back slowly, eyes narrowed in anger. "You can keep the money, if that's what you're worried about. All I want is Ronan."

Pursing his lips, Peter looked down at Riley who didn't react. Shit, were they going to have to split the money with her? Then again, if Drax was backing out of the money, how big a loss was it really?

"You ain't gettin' any, sweetheart," Rocket muttered, looking at Riley as he climbed up to the table. "We already agreed, and you weren't there. Your loss."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want your damn money," she muttered. "Soon as we get wherever we're going, I'm out."

"Okay," Peter muttered, slowly, still side-eyeing Riley. "Partners. The three of us."

"I am Groot." The tree finally joined them from…where the hell was a giant sentient tree hiding on his tiny-ass ship?

"Four of us," he corrected, trying not to think about it too hard. "Partners?"

Gamora rolled her eyes and turned back to the ladder leading to the cockpit. "We have an agreement. That's it," she said. "I would never be partners with the likes of you. I'll tell my buyer we're on our way with the orb." She started to climb the ladder, then turned back. "And Quill? Your ship is filthy."

Peter scoffed. "She has no idea," he muttered, grinning. "If I had a black light, this place would look like a Jackson Pollock painting."

"Gross," Riley muttered.

Peter froze. He'd forgotten she was there. Hell, there went any chance he might've had of with her. By the time he turned around, she was already almost out of the room. Maybe if he chased after her….

"You got issues, Quill," Rocket muttered, turning back to his pile of parts.

Sighing, Peter let Riley go and dropped down into one of the makeshift seats in the lounge to make sure Rocket didn't accidentally blow up any moons. Or his ship. Or 'The Present'.