#zeph gets asks

“I am Groot!” He snapped as he stormed back onto the ship just as the rest of them were finishing dinner, the GalacticbucksTM cap and apron were tossed into the nearest corner as he stormed straight to his room. 

This was becoming a regular occurrence since Rocket and Quill had ganged up together, with Gamora’s prodding, and convinced Groot he needed to get a job. In everyone’s defence at the time it had seemed like a good idea. He was a teenager, and a particularly moody one at that, they’d just assumed he would like the extra cash the job would provide him as much as they’d like not having to tell him twelve times to clean his room because he was just Sitting There. The GalacticbucksTM had scooped him up quick, minimum wage workers who could lift more than three workers combined were in low supply it seemed.The first week had gone well enough, Groot was almost downright chatty when he came home from his first couple shifts. 

“I am Groot!” He’d nodded enthusiastically as Rocket, between bouts of laughter, translated the story of the look on his manager’s face when a lady had just watched as her child methodically opened twenty sugar packets and poured them out slowly on the table. “I am Groot!”

“He says the kid thought it was quite artistic!” Rocket knocked himself off his chair. “The manager disagreed!”

Then about a week and a half in Groot had caught one of his fingers in a drawer, leaving a large slow healing bruise that he favoured for days. It had gone rapidly downhill after that. In favouring his hand he’d managed to burn both the pot of coffee he was supposed to be making and then his elbow on the hot plate he’d been moving it off of. The day after that a customer had stood at his till refusing to leave or speak until he asked what they wanted and no amount of his manager’s explanations would convince the person that Groot couldn’t say those words specifically. 

So here they were nearly two weeks after the first injury and nearly every shift Groot came home either annoyed or slightly hurt. Both Quill and Rocket looked worriedly after Groot once he’d stormed past. 

“You worry to much. Injury is good for the body, makes you stronger.” Drax reached over and patted Quill’s shoulder so hard he nearly knocked him over. 

“According to most people I’ve asked this is a perfectly normal reaction to a job.” Gamora waved a hand. “So congrats boys, you’re raising a perfectly normal teenage boy.”

“See you’re saying something reassuring but your tone…” Quill trailed off as Rocket stood up and walked off towards the kitchen.

“Well normal teenage boys grow up to be normal men so you can see my problem.” Gamora raised an eyebrow as she stood up and Quill had the distinct feeling she was talking about him. 

“No?” He tried but she just rolled her eyes and walked away leaving Quill and Drax to finish the cleanup from dinner. 

The next day after Groot’s shift something damn near miraculous happened, not only was Groot not in a bad mood, he seemed quite cheerful. Practically singing as he grabbed a snack and headed to his room. “I am Groot, Groot, I am Groot!”

“That, that was just straight nonsense.” Rocket frowned as he watched Groot’s door close. “Those weren’t even words!”

When this happened again for the next three shifts Quill and rocket cooked up a plan to figure out what was going on. Gamora disapproved calling them things like childish and idiotic, and Drax didn’t understand why they couldn’t just ask Groot what had changed. So of course they left both on them on the ship. 

First things first though they’d changed into disguises once Groot had headed off to work. Rocket wearing what appeared to be a labcoat with large black boots, and a top hat, and Quill wearing pretty much what he always wore along with a snapback, a fake mustache, and sunglasses. Now that they were properly disguised they headed off the ship and down the boardwalk towards the GalacticbucksTM. 

They walked in, ordered some plain coffees from the nice girl with purple hair behind the counter and settled into the corner booth with the best view of the place. For the large part of their stakeout nothing entirely out of the ordinary happened. They kept a running tally of the number of people who paid entirely to much for basic tea and water, the number of kids who got up to something entirely ridiculous, and the number of people who seemed to be going out of their way to make the lives of the poor kids behind the counter harder. One particularly irate guy in a suite sent his latte back four times because he didn’t think it was made correctly and there was a lady who asked for exactly 25 sugar packets and preceded to carefully pour each one individually into her coffee and stir it while blocking the entire counter with her stroller so no one could get through. None of that however explained Groot’s unusually good mood. 

None of it that is until the pretty looking alien with flowering vines for hair walked in and ordered some cold sweet whipped thing that Quill was fairly certain would give most humans cavities just from looking at it. She perched at a table near the counter and pulled out a book she was just about halfway done reading. 

“Look it that.” Rocket elbowed Quill and pointed behind the counter. Where only moments ago Groot had been frowning he was now practically skipping while he made drinks.

“Oh I opt out.” Quill put his finger on his nose. 

“What?” 

“I’m not the one dealing with his first heartbreak, no thank you.” Quill finished up his coffee and ditched the cup. 

“And how do you think I’m going to manage it?” Rocket followed him out.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you’re the dad after all.”  Quill shot finger guns at him with a grin. Maybe this whole job thing was going to be good for Groot after all.

“Why am I here again?” Jessica looked between Diana and ‘Star-Lord’ like at some point this trip might actually make sense. 

“Groot’s a teenager now so Rocket suggested we drop down to earth and get him some stuff.” Peter waved a hand vaguely.

“No that’s why you’re here.” Jesssica was already walking down the isle that would lead her to the coolers that held the good stuff.

“Should teenage tree boys have alcohol?” Diana asked from where she was trailing behind her. 

“Probably not!” Shouted Peter from where he was staring at a rank of shirts and looking confused.

“Who in the hell said it was for the kid?” She pulled out three bottles and dropped them into the cart Peter was pushing. “I don’t support teenage drinking.” 

“Which one of these would he like best do you think?” Peter asked holding up two shirts, one with some strange cartoon tictac one it and the other with a really old band Jessica was fairly certain was no longer relevant.

“He’s a tree no?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m still convinced Rocket is playing an elaborate joke on you.”

“He’s a teenager.” Peter looked extremely offended, as though she’s just said something heinous. 

“Does he even wear clothes?” 

“Well I mean, he could?”

“But he doesn’t.” 

“Well fine what do you suggest?” Peter dropped the shirts back onto the rack with dramatic flair that even a teenage Trish would have envied. 

“I don’t know what does he like?” Jessica rolled her eyes, then glanced around as she realized Diana had disappeared while they were talking.  

“Music!” He snapped his fingers and started off down the aisle. 

Jessica was fairly certain at this rate her eyes were going to roll right out of her skull but she followed him as he tossed a boombox and a dozen cds into the cart. 

“Is this what kids use now a days?” He examined the cds with interest. 

“Not usually.” Jessica pointed to the other side of the electronics section, where the expensive things were stored behind glass. “Ipods are the big thing recently.”

“Huh.” He frowned at them for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah these look more durable.”

The Diana appeared next to them with a noise like air displacement and dropped a large bag into the cart, careful not to hit anything already in there. 

“Fertilizer?” Peter frowned at the bag and Jessica didn’t bother holding back her laughter. 

“He is a growing tree, on themyscira we would make our own but this is a fair imitation.” Diana patted the bag looking almost fond. “Though we never had young trees, only produce.”

“She’s got a point.” Jessica got out between gasps of laughter. “You know what Peter I’m glad I’m here, haven’t had anything to laugh at in a while.” 

“You’re welcome.” Diana patted her shoulder with enough force to knock over most humans. 

By the time they made it to the cash register Peter had added a dozen shirts, at least twelve different types of junk food, and three of those ‘books for teens’ that Jessica refrained from pointing out contained far more human anatomy than anything useful for a teenage tree in space. 

When Peter’s ship came to pick him up, well after Jessica had stashed her alcohol in her own apartment, Groot seemed far more pleased by the bag of fertilizer than any of the junk Peter had bought him.