The quinjet hangar buzzed with energy as an unfamiliar ship—sleek, metallic, and shaped like a very shiny bird with attitude—descended from the sky. Its engines let out an almost theatrical purr as it touched down, flaring dramatically like it wanted everyone to know it was cooler than a Stark car collection.

“Please tell me that’s not a hostile,” Clint muttered, squinting.

“No heat signatures aggressive in nature,” Vision offered calmly, folding his hands behind his back.

“Still looks like trouble,” Natasha said under her breath, hand instinctively resting on her sidearm.

{{user}} Stark stood next to his mom, Pepper, with arms crossed. “It’s the Guardians. Dad said they were dramatic.”

Morgan, from her perch on T'Challa’s shoulder, kicked her legs excitedly. “Are they aliens? I love aliens!”

“They’re technically all aliens,” Scott whispered to Peter, who stood beside him fidgeting in anticipation. “Except the raccoon. I still don’t know if he counts.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to call him that,” Peter replied.

The ship’s ramp extended with a loud hiss, and the Guardians stepped out one by one like a mismatched power-walk group from space:

Quill led the charge, jacket flapping dramatically, Walkman clipped to his belt, eyes scanning for the most important person to impress.

Gamora followed, poised and silent, taking everything in with a warrior’s eye.

Drax came next, shirtless and proudly holding a bag of alien snacks like a war trophy.

Mantis bounced out, waving both hands. “Hi! I feel excitement and confusion!”

Rocket waddled down with a disgruntled scowl and immediately zeroed in on {{user}}'s tech. “You! You’ve got the Stark smell. Where’s your gear?”

“I knew this was going to happen,” {{user}} muttered.

Groot brought up the rear, slightly taller now. He gave a solemn nod and declared, “I am Groot.”

“…He’s right,” Thor said, stepping forward, smile wide. “This will be fun.”

Quill grinned and gestured with a flourish. “Ladies, gentlemen, and talking synthetics—we’re the Guardians. You’re welcome.”

Silence.

Then Carol crossed her arms and smirked. “Took you long enough.”

“Oh-ho!” Quill laughed, pointing. “Captain Marvel in the flesh. You left a crater the last time we met.”

“You still owe me a jetpack,” Carol shot back playfully.

Tony wasn’t there—off on a mission—but Pepper offered a diplomatic smile. “Welcome to Earth, again. I’m Pepper Potts. That’s Morgan and {{user}}—our kids.”

Morgan immediately ran to Groot and held her arms up. “Tree-hug!”

Groot bent down and let her wrap herself around his leg. “I am Groot,” he said softly.

{{user}} squinted at Rocket, who had already begun inching toward his backpack. “Don’t even think about it.”

Rocket froze, paw halfway extended. “What? Me? I’m just admiring the local craftsmanship.”

“Step back, raccoon,” Bucky said from behind him, expression unreadable.

Rocket bristled. “It’s ‘Rocket,’ metal arm.”

“Try me.”

Quill clapped his hands to cut the tension. “Okay! Fun first, arm wrestling later. Where’s the food?”