Rocket marveled how his routine with the other guardians (he still couldn't believe he let himself be called that) fell into line after only three days saving Xandier.

It probably had a lot to do with the time they had spent bonding/fighting on their near suicidal mission to stop Ronan, sharing the burden of the infinity stone and the time they were forced to spend in the hospital together after the Battle.

Once on the ship when Peter had furnished them a room each, it created an even stronger bond between then. Perhaps it was because the rooms made the fact, that they had formed something like a family, more real, more permanent.

And Rocket had never had anything permanent. Not a bed, not a family, not someone other than Groot to trust.

Then on the third day, they couldn't take the "relaxation" any more and shortened they're two week break to three days.

After Peter whining to the Nova corps like a damn two years old they received a small retrieval mission. For 15 000 units they fetched an artifact from an illegal museum (illegal museums? What the heck?!) It was simple, fun, and FINALLY, finally he could shoot something other than the simulators in the Milano's gym. After all he lived for the little things, like pulling the trigger.

After the mission when they all slumped in the rec room laughing, raving about what to do with the money, Rocket felt truly at home.

But it was the next morning all they're remaining tension/awkwardness slipped way thanks to Gamora (surprisingly). Rather than her battle gear, she had slipped on a t-shirt and flappers, her wet hair trailing down her back.

"Good morning Rocket," she smirked as the other cyborg stared back dumbly. At that moment Peter walked in wearing his leather jacket and boots, all dressed just like Rocket. He looked one look at Gamora and huffed.

"Thank God, I was getting fed up wearing this on the ship." And he left to change into something more relaxed.

That was that.

Over the days the Guardians relaxed in each other's company.

On the fifth day Rocket woke to Gamora's door opening, her footsteps fading towards the cockpit. Rocket mentally sighed, dammit might as well wake up. He went on to the washroom slipped on a loose shirt and pants and strode towards to the cockpit.

Just as he caught sight of the door way he stopped watching the scene:

Peter turning around…but something was different…what the where was…what the?!

At that moment Gamora seemed to be walking in sipping a cup of coffee nodding: "God morning Pet-!" She promptly spit her coffee out, Peter diving behind a chair with a yelp.

"Not how you start a food fight Gams" He peeked out, eyes wide, shaking his head.

Gams eyes were wide though, not even registering the hilarious nickname, "Where's your …?"

"-hair" Rocket interrupted, walking in. Immediately Peter jumped up running his hand through his hair, eyes wide with panic and horror. "What! no! I feel it! SEE!?"

"I believe he was talking about the hair on your face friend Quill." Drax's voice rumbled from behind.

That was what was exactly missing. The stubble or scruff or whatever it was called.

Peter paused, looking terribly different without his stubble. Then he smirked, more highlighted than before without any hair near it.

"Oooohhhh. Seriously guys?!" He smirked collapsing in a chair. "Really guyz. I just shaved."

Gamora sat in the co-pilot seat, while Drax took the passenger seat. "Why?" She cocked her head while Peter raised an eyebrow.

Oh damn, Rocket thought feeling somewhat freaked out. Peter looked a little too different.

Peter turned back to the coffee, "Usually do it after a big mission, feels good… so what you guyz wanna do today?"

Rocket slumped against the wall. "Let's go to Knowhere. I wanna grab some stuff."

Peter nodded, as the others agreed.

But in the silence that followed, everyone kept giving furtive glances to their captain, including Rocket himself. He didn't know why but the man looked so different. It was more than just the hair missing around his chin that exposed the skin beneath. It exposed the roundness of some of his features, made his eyes look different.

It all added up so he looked…

"What?!" Peter suddenly sighed. Standing up clearly embarrassed at the way everyone was staring at him.

Gamora sighed. "You look younger Peter," she frowned "how old are you?"

Yes that was exactly it! The humie looked younger! Stubble gone exposing some of the too young looking features. How old was quill?

Several emotions passed Peter's face, worry, embarrassment and some sort of weariness.

He just shrugged, looking put out. "I'm 34…middle aged in Terran terms."

What?!

Drax put it straight out: "I don't believe you… you look like a youth on the brink of adulthood or an adult stepping out of his youth."

Rocket found himself nodding along. There was nothing weary, or middle aged about the man's features.

The humanoid was so stunned he didn't realize how creepy his own staring was.

At this point Peter was clearly trying to hide a scowl. "No trust me guyz. I am 34." He said in a strained tone.

"Than why the hell…" Rocket began, but Peter cut in:

"I don't look it? Probably cuz time moves differently on earth than in space and now thinking about it, cuz of my dad's side."

"You seem to be annoyed at our reaction?" Gamora cocked her head arms crossed.

Peter glared at the control panel fidgeting with the buttons. "What is this? Twenty questions."

He looks like an angsty teenager Rocket mentally sniggered

Drax leant forward eyes trained on Star lord. "We have asked you much less than twenty, however if you wish I will write down twenty-"

Gamora shook her head "Metaphor." She said in a clipped tone and turned to Peter "Well?"

Peter sighed again rolling his eyes.

"It's kinda annoying actually." He muttered. "Back with the ravagers, when I was like 20, they passed me as 15! Some places, like Xandier, as 10!" The man threw up his arms.

Rocket openly sniggered.

Gamora frowned. "So?"

Peter shrugged. "It's just annoying. Hard to be taken seriously and the other ravagers wouldn't shut up about it." Peter practically muttered a mile a minute.

Something akin to pain flashed in the man's eyes, and Rocket Suddenly realized that Peter was not telling them even a quarter of it. The Ravagers were much more than that. And them being decent to not only a Terran, let alone a younger, immature looking terran was impossible. So Peter had done anything he could do to look older.

Hell, Rocket had firsthand experience at being underestimated and targeted for how he looked and who he was.

Peter suddenly gave a huge grin, not quite reaching his eyes. "Can we please give the collector a visit on Knowhere?"

"NO!" Came the simultaneous answer, lightening the mood instantly.

Peter sniggered, while Drax suddenly got up deciding to sharpen his knives before arriving on Knowhere.

Gamora got up deciding to get dressed as well, before she stopped and spoke: "And Peter? We will always treat you seriously…or as we normally do. Don't worry." She walked off before Peter could reply, leaving him grinning at the controls, smile touching past his eyes.

As Gamora left Rocket climbed into the Co-pilot chair. They sat there for a few minutes, Peter humming Come and Get your Love until Rocket couldn't help but speak up:

"She's right Peter." Peter started and Rocket realized he sounded very sappy so he added, "No need to worry about being treated like an idiot, cuz your already one ("Thanks!" Peter grinned), and shaving is cool anyway, kinda disgusting if you don't. I don't even want to know what was nesting in it." Rocket grinned while Peter rolled his eyes.

Peter snorted, but he caught what Rocket was saying underneath Shaving is cool anyway, we won't treat you like the ravager, they were disgusting, and I don't even want to know the rest about 'em, let alone act like 'em.

I know you won't.

But instead: "What about your fur buddy?"

Rocket jumped and glared at Peter. Never mind, he aint lookin that different, and really he wasn't other than some more rounded looking features; same guy with same idiotic tendencies. Rocket though fondly.

"My fur is much better than the crappy excuse of hair on your oversized head quill!"

The bickering could be heard all over the ship.