Hi Guys! Bored! Ugh! So, here comes a new Rocket/OC fic. Not sure how long it will be, alternate universe/Alternate timeline as per usual. Rocket (sadly) does not belong to me, nor do any of the other MCU Characters who make appearances here. Only my OC is mine, lol.

What if the power stone had a sentient mind of its own? What if it lodged itself in the chest of a young woman with very unique powers?

Chapter 1: The last thing I wanna see….

Rocket had barricaded himself into the immense cargo hold of the ship, a box of protein bars and a few bottles of water all he needed besides his beloved tools to survive for the next day or two at least while Star-Schmuck and the others explored wherever the flark they had landed now. He ripped open the crate at his feet, rummaging through the spare components until his clever fingers lit upon what he was looking for before he began to weld the two pieces together with wild abandon, sparks flying into the air and bouncing to the cement floor in an orange and white shower.

He swished his tail as he fell into a pleasant rhythm of weld, dig for component, locate component, weld again.

"Dude, are you sure you're not gonna set yourself on fire?" Peter asked loudly, raising his voice to be heard over the grind of the tools Rocket was using.

Rocket pulled his goggles back to the top of his head and frowned over at the Terran with barely veiled annoyance.

"No. Where's the fun in that?" He asked, plunking the welding gadget onto the bench beside him and kicking the crate at his feet shut to lay his half-finished project on top of it.

"You aren't building another bomb are you?" Quill asked uneasily, part of him very much aware that half the cargo bay was filled with some type of incendiary or other.

"Nope. I know how that how that gets your lace panties in a wad, Star-munch." Rocket snorted, causing Peter to scoff and shake his head.

"Just because I don't want the ship to explode—

"Hey, what are you in here for anyways? I thought you were taking tall, green, and brooding into the city for drinks or some shit." He interrupted, not wanting to hear one of Quill's safety lectures.

"I am. I came in here to tell you to get your furry butt off the ship and get a drink or something, you've been in the shittiest mood for the past couple of weeks and I think you've been cooped up too long." Peter replied in earnest.

"I'm busy, somebody has to keep this rust bucket fuckin airborne." Rocket grumbled in irritation, hoping Quill would just drop it and leave him be.

"Listen, here's your share of the units from the last drop and it's a good amount of loot. Go get a drink, rent a sexbot, pet a puppy; do something other than lock yourself in here with your tools and your attitude." He persisted as Rocket snatched the unit chip with an impressed gleam in his eyes.

He could always see what the city's black market had to offer…

"Where's Groot?" He asked suddenly.

"Drax took him to a carnival in the city and they're gonna be gone all day at least." Peter replied, knowing he had won the raccoonoid over.

An hour later, Rocket was ensconced in an underground makeshift marketplace skimming over the stalls and what they had to offer.

He had purchased an interesting scope for a gun he had been building, as well as several reasonably priced engine components and a few bottles of hard to acquire booze; all to be delivered to the Milano in the morning.

He wandered into a seedy bar next, the intergalactic techno and pop music blaring out the door catching his interest as he spied several gaming tables along with scantily clad waitresses of several different alien races.

"What's your poison?" A blue girl with fiery orange hair asked from behind the bar with a sweet smile.

"You got Xandarian Ale here?" Rocket shouted over the music.

"You got it Babe," She replied, popping the top for him and setting it on a coaster in front of him.

"Thanks," He smirked, unused to receiving such friendly hospitality due to most of the planets they ventured to having a shit ton of xenophobia.

"Got food too if you're hungry," She told him with a wink.

"Uh, maybe later. How're the tables doing?" He asked curiously, slipping her a few credits as a tip.

"Thanks sweet face, the Orloni races are pretty good today. I'd put my money on the one called Duneraider." She replied as he downed the ale and she quickly replaced it before moving down the bar to the next customer.

Rocket decided that he could get used to this place!

He took his beer and sauntered over to the Orloni races; deciding to watch for a couple of rounds before placing any actual bets of his own.

There were plenty of people around the tables; some of the games were three or four rows deep, but surprisingly enough everyone seemed to be having a hell of a good time. A small group of Ravagers were spinning a wheel and cheering, even high-fiving the A'askavariian who had won against them.

"Hey Babe, wanna sample some of this weeks Cocktail? Samples are on the house," A busty pink waitress with green hair handed him a glass from her tray without even waiting for an answer.

"Hey, I was wondering where you got to!" A Terran girl with bright purple hair and stunning green eyes swooped in and planted a kiss on his neck right beneath his ear.

"Whatever you do, don't drink that. Follow me outside," She whispered quickly, twinning her fingers with his and softly tugging his hand; looking for all the world as though they were a couple.

Rocket was so perplexed that he set his drink down and followed, keeping his fingers entwined with hers as they made their way outside.

The Terran girl was surprisingly small and thin, only about a foot taller than Rocket himself. Looking her over, she seemed to be unarmed, not that he was particularly concerned as he was always packing artillery whenever he was off the ship.

"What's going on?" He murmured out of the side of his mouth.

"Lets head back to the ship and I'll show you," She said pseudo-seductively as a group of tall stern-looking aliens passed by them by, heading in the direction of the bar that they had just left.

Rocket got the picture and played along, he had the feeling that the girl was in trouble; he just wondered who the hell she was and why the hell she would know to come to him for help.

Once they were clear of the underground black market, he noticed that she was shaking slightly, and she kept glancing furtively around them while keeping a near bone-breaking grip on his hand as though he might up and evaporate from her side.

Once aboard the Milano, she nearly collapsed in relief as the door hissed shut behind them; falling into the nearest chair she could find.

Rocket shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and offered her a bottled water, which she quickly drained in record timing before she turned to him shakily.

"C-can you call the rest of your team back? You guys have gotta get out of here, like yesterday." She stammered, gripping her side suddenly and nearly falling out of her seat.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He asked, receiving an answer to his own question as she pulled her hand away from the inside of her purple leather jacket, her skin stained dark red.

Rocket jerked the med kit off of the wall, but she shook her head.

"There's no time for that Rocket! You have got to get the others back here before they eat or drink anything that's tainted," She gasped frantically, halting him in his tracks as he thought about Groot.

He tapped a few buttons on his comm watch, sending out an emergency signal to everyone to get their asses back to the Milano pronto.

"How do you know my name?" He asked curiously.

"I'm from Xandar. My name is Nashira Saal; my Father was Garthan Saal, from the battle with Ronan?" She looked at him as though imploring him to recall the name.

"Yeah… yeah I remember your Dad." He replied regretfully, remembering how he had failed to save him and how he had heard him get shot down with hundreds of other Xandarian pilots that day.

Nashira's head fell back against the chair with a thud as Rocket caught her awkwardly before she hit the floor.

"We gotta get you horizontal," He grunted, hoisting her up as though she were one of his giant guns and carrying her to his little-used room, which was closest.

She was barely conscious as her head hit the pillow, but the moment Rocket began to tug off her jacket, she jerked away, wincing in pain.

"Look, I'm not trying to cop a cheap feel alright? We've gotta stop your bleeding and I've gotta scan you for internal injuries. I would say wait until Gamora gets here, but I'm not sure how far away her and Peter are." He explained.

Nashira shook her head and sighed.

"It's….. It's not that," She muttered, her hands flailing helplessly as though she were having the beginnings of a panic attack.

Rocket was unfortunate enough to recognize the signs.

"Just try to take a deep breath and let it out slow, okay?" He asked, unstrapping the handheld scanner from its place in the med kit and beginning to take her readings.

"Pl-please don't freak out," She gasped, nearly sobbing in pain as she sat up gingerly and shrugged the jacket off, revealing a pulsing luminescent purple glow beneath her shirt right over where a Terran heart would be.

"Don't worry, I seen a lot of weird shit in my time." He assured her as he took in the sight of the light glowing on her chest.

It was when she pulled her shirt over her head slowly and turned gingerly so that her injured side and ribs faced him that his eyes widened as the source of the light was revealed.

There, lodged in her breastbone was the last thing Rocket ever wanted to set eyes on again; the infinity stone that they had left behind on Xandar in the protection of the Nova Corps.

"Ah Fuck," He sighed.

When it rains, it pours…..