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Quoth The Raven 404	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 1951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction using the characters and settings of Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise. I do not own Dreamworks.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Skipper surveyed the familiar expressions: Kowalski's tiny smile below glittery eyes as he awaited data to sift in his formidable mind; Private eager to share anything with his buds because he remained so tenderhearted despite efforts to wring it out of him; Rico twirling the set of keys because he couldn't stay quiet long; and finally Marlene, whose playfulness seemed about to burst forth like one of Rico's M-80 fireworks. Should he do this?
"It's my last will and testament," Skipper said.
Rico dropped his keys.
At the crashtinklegrit, Sally jerked fully awake, blinking like an owl. She drew a deep breath and oh gee whillikers gosh golly, she was about to howl. Before Kowalski could utter, "Routine Forty-Six!", Private spun into action to retrieve her binky. He shoved it into her open mouth before she could siren an outsized cry for such a small baby.
Somber regard replaced happy speculation on Kowalski's countenance as he asked, "Sir, are you ill?"
Skipper noticed waves like those at Wailea Beach crest one by one on his lieutenant's face: realization, apprehension, acceptance, and then a holding pattern of gathering more data. Without a doubt, he thrust the shield of Science in front of him to blunt any emotional shock. It made Skipper feel a schosche better about the kind of mean trick he'd played.
"Nope, Doc said at my last checkup that I'm fit as a fiddle and ready for love." Skipper looked pointedly at Marlene and the tip of her nose turned red. Her next words stopped his soothing of Sally in the midst of a pat.
"Skipper, if you have caught something, is it contagious?" Sally's mother asked.
Now this was a surprise. He didn't know if she were messing with him because she knew him so well to know that he was messing with her. In a flash, he gleaned that protectprotectprotect pounded in her veins too, as they faced each other over their daughter. Marlene inched towards him and if he had said yes, he was sick, would she snatch Sally out of his tender hold? Naw, that couldn't be right unless maternal instinct flamed so strongly that all common sense burned to a crisp. She would know that he'd never endanger Sally with so much as a case of the sniffles. She would know, right? Right?
Sally munched on her binky, clutching it tightly as she gulped in air around it. Oh great, she'd have gas or colic or something afterwards. Maybe he shouldn't have done this with her around, but it was too late now. Private tapped his flippertips nervously in that way he had and already Rico reacted to possible threat to his commander by arching into his kung fu battle stance. Against a germ.
"I'm not sick, I said."
Everyone's shoulders dropped in relief and it took Private's pure nature to put things right. "Wot a Boxin' Day gift it is to hear those words, Skippa. But you know, you gave us the gollywobbles for half a tick."
"Hwarg," added Rico. Skipper supposed that meant you're a bad boy in Rico's Hamarskaftet Nunatak dialect.
Kowalski's eyes narrowed. "I know you. I've known you for longer than Marlene has and when you ramp up the sneakiness, nothing is what it seems." He picked up the curling scroll of paper that Marlene had dropped at the term last will and testament to eye it suspiciously.
Marlene gripped her elbows as she directed a scowl at her love. "Sneaky, covert, whatever. Out with it, my dear, and make it good."
Skipper resumed patting and Sally burped out her binky with a brrrrrpip. Skipper replaced it and said, "Thaaaat's it, better out than in, cutiepie. But um, yeah, okay, here goes. I'm your leader, right?"
Four uh huhs sounded as one.
"I demand options" - he nodded at Kowalski, who nodded back - "I requisition ordnance" - Rico saluted - "I head to my go-to inspiration guy for inspiration" - Private scraped a bashful toe against the lair's cement floor - "and I determine when the mission needs extra key personnel" - Marlene winked at him and he stuttered as his face heated beneath its feathers - "s-so what's the best gift I could give as a leader to show appreciation of my team?"
"A box of soan papdi that we could all share? Oh come on, Skipper, how in the world could we know?" Marlene locked her paws behind her, simpering as she swayed while she looked up at the ceiling. "Somebody better hurry up."
They all checked the clock. "It's 1645 hours, sir. Sally needs her milk soon." It must be Skipper's imagination that Sally perked up at hearing milk.
Marlene fanned her face and looked only at the father of her child. "Between the fish you feed her and my milk she's growing like a weed and we want to keep her on schedule 'cause that's what makes her grow, right, Leader Person?"
Kowalski tapped his clipboard that he'd plucked from its usual place and checked something off. "1700 hours approaches, Little Mother and Little F- uh, sir."
Speaking of, it was time for full disclosure. Skipper stood, balancing Sally on his flank as he cradled her delicate neck because pacing would speed this along. He couldn't resist striding five steps each way in front of his troops before speaking.
"Point taken, men and Marlene. Ittle Dirl gave me the idea for this gift. Proceed with unboxing instructions, Kowalski, and we'll get the show on the road."
The four looked askance at their commander. "The present's already unboxed," ventured Marlene. "Honey, are you sure you're in tip toppiest shape - "
"Humor me. And I'll show you the shape I'm in. Later."
Kowalski took over as Marlene's jaw dropped. "Phil signs that unboxing instructions on YouTube contain the same snide tone no matter the item so I'll imitate Mason translating for Phil." He aped Mason's bow legs and waddled back and forth. "Chaps, as you can see," he began in Mason's nasally British voice, "the puzzle box contains shoddy fastenings that Marlene undid as easy as mince pie. The quality of the wood leaves much to be desired, doncher know, and the paper quality of the so-called gift is definitely inferior with a low percentage of cotton to wood pulp." He seemed to really get into miming and dragged his flipper tips along the floor in a lumbering chimp walk. Sally waved in the spastic way of darling babies and Kowalski waved back as he ripped into the puzzle box and the gift inside it. "The cursive handwriting resembles scratches that the Blue Hen makes - "
"Private, open the left middle row door," interrupted Skipper.
Private opened the door obediently. "Nothin', still empty, Skippa." He stuck in his flipper again and shrugged.
"That's where you're wrong. It contains the spirit of independence. It's the more important gift I'm giving you four. In case something happens to me, you'll need Phil to read the other gift with Mason translating. You'll be sad for awhile - Kowalski, pass Marlene a tissue - but you'll go on as a team. Oh, I'll do everything I can to stay with you, but now and then it isn't possible."
He allowed them to digest the gift, which was not as sweet as soan papdi but more like a tangy mango-cranberry snow cone. Sally burbled after she spat out her binky yet again and he hoisted her high above his head. "Stay frosty, kid." She didn't need independence, oh no, not yet, and he savored the feeling of her dependence on him.
Time drew near for Sally to be passed along to her mother, so onward. "One more thing, a third gift, if you will and yes, I know I said there was only one. Sue me. Marlene, IKEA makes a dandy crib and it's behind the TV as you saw me put it there but didn't see me seeing you see me oh you know what I mean. We'll mush to your habitat now, you feed Sally and afterwards we'll help you put the crib together in solidarity like compadres."
Marlene shouted, "Group hug!"
"Watch it, you'll squish Sally!"
They didn't, of course.
IOIOIOIOIO
The End.
IOIOIOIOIO
- 9
- 10
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Quoth The Raven 404