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Undertow	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 11341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction set in Dreamworks' Penguins of Madagascar franchise. I do not own its characters, basic premise or settings.

Chapter List
- 1-1/?
- 2-2/?
- 3-3/?
- 4-4/?
- 5-5/?
- 6-6/?
- 7-7/?
- 8-8/?
- 9-9/?
- 10-10/?
- 11-11/?
- 12-12/?
- 13-13/?
- 14-14/?
- 15-15/?
- 16-16/?
- 17-17/?
- 18-18/?
- 19-19/?
- 20-20/?
- 21-21/?
- 22-22/?
- 23-23/?
- 24-24/?
- 25-25/?
- 26-26/?
- 27-27/?
- 28-28/?
- 29-29/?
- 30-30/?
- 31-31/?
- 32-32/?
- 33-33/?
- 34-34/?
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- 39-39/?
- 40-40/?
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- 47-47/?
- 48-48/?
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- 50-50/?
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- 55-55/?
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- 58-58/?
- 59-59/?
- 60-60/?
- 61-61/?
- 62-62/?
- 63-63/?
- 64-64/?
- 65-65/?
- 66-66/?
- 67-67/?
- 68-68/?
- 69-69/?
- 70-70/?
- 71-71/?
- 72-72/?
- 73-73/?
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- 75-75/?
- 76-76/?
- 77-77/?
- 78-78/?
- 79-79/?
- 80-80/?
- 81-81/?
- 82-82/?
- 83-83/?
- 84-84/?
- 85-85/?
- 86-86/?
- 87-87/?
- 88-88/?
- 89-89/?
- 90-90/?
- 91-91/?
- 92-92/?
- 93-93/?
- 94-94/?
- 95-95/?
- 96-96/?
- 97-97/?
- 98-97/?
- 99-99/?
- 100-100/?
- 101-101/?
- 102-102/?
- 103-103/?
- 104-104/?
- 105-105/?
- 106-106/?
- 107-107/?
- 108-108/?
- 109-109/?
- 110-110/112
- 111-111/112
- 112-112/112
- 103
- 104
- 105
"While my guitar gently weeps," Skipper sang as he strummed the instrument while settling into his perch atop Roy's head. "With every mistake we must surely be learning, still my guitar gently weeps," he continued as the rhino's exquisitely sensitive ears followed his every move. He played a few more chords and stopped singing when his voice cracked on the next chorus. He kept hold of the guitar neck with one flipper and self-medicated with the other. By the great Walter Reed, he had hurt Private in spirit and Marlene in body. There must be a way to fix things. He tried to sing, "I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping while my guitar gently weeps, I look at you all, still my guitar gently weeps," and then quit for no reason he could name.
"Still worth it, bird?"
Skipper slumped between Roy's horns, straddling the short one like Ringtail rode his Tuna Melt in what surely had been a boa-inspired hallucination. He snugged his spine against the longer horn in a comfortable curl as he tipped back the Unicum bottle for a long swig.
Worth it? Worth possibly damaging his reputation as protector of the zoo who let nothing come between him and the mission? The booze helped him think, in a way, maybe a scosche unfocused on some issues but deeper than before on others. He might indeed lose, in the following order: his reputation; the respect that his fellow zoosters showed for him as they approached him to solve their troubles; and last, the hard-earned, treasured regard from his Big Boss, who would call him to report in person regarding rumors of being as un-covert as you could get. He might have sacrificed his commander's reputation in exchange for a family and for love both parental and romantic.
Worth it? He thought harder with his thumping skull until he had an answer.
Protectprotectprotect and sometimes, sacrifice.
"Seguro, Roy, it's worth it. Not just yes but hell yes."
Roy's snort bobbled his head as Skipper held onto his sardine luncheon with both tonsils. "If you say so, Skipper. I'll charge you rent if you spend any more time with me like in the last three days." The rhino tittered at his little joke.
"I don't get paid so you'd have to take it out of my hide." Skipper let the guitar slip to the ground and ruffled his chest feathers idly, pressing down his scar until he hissed. That pain wasn't too bad today; the ulcers were worse.
Roy swung his head again as Skipper belched fumes of Hungarian liqueur said to be healthful for digestive problems. "Poor baby."
"Yeah, poor me. I've got two partners, two kids, two dead soldiers on my conscience and I see two of you, Roy. Will you stop it with the head swinging? I'm about to hurl."
"Don't, bird."
"Like I could brrrrroosh help myself. I'm warning you."
Similar to Bossy The Mini Holstein Cow in the Children's Petting Zoo, Roy sagged down for an afternoon rest on his belly, knees bending first, hips skyward and then folding underneath him. He lay his chin flat onto the dried mud of his paddock. "Better, old friend?"
"Hrrrkbuuupltz. Don't do that again without telling me, old friend. Maurice The Zookeeper will need to hose you off if I lose control of my gut. Zzzrtm. Mmmm." Skipper sprawled his legs wider around the lower horn. Laziness he would discipline out of his troops enfolded him like swirling schools of krill that would attract Antarctic toothfish which he would hunt on a sortie in the Ross Sea.
Skipper scratched the back of his neck. Say, did he eat breakfast? He thought as hard as he could and blammo, there came the headache. No, no breakfast, just chug a lugged some water and then out for "patrol" with nary a backward glance at his team or his kids. A quick slide around the zoo ensured that all was well and thank whatever powers that be, nobody hooted woo woo loverboy or anything of that nature.
After the hullabaloo three days ago, every zooster knew of goings on in the otter and penguin habitats, so the next question was natural. Skipper himself would have asked it if his and Roy's situations reversed. The commander steeled himself for what he must say next.
"So how are Private and Marlene?"
He had rehearsed this. "They are each fine as individuals. Together wise, they eye each other like schnookettes at a debutante cotillion waiting to see which poor schnook will ask a schnookette to dance so every animal will know that heretofore mentioned schnookette is not a wallflower. Guess who the schnook is, Roy, huh? Guess!"
Roy waved his ears in lieu of bobbing or snorting. "You."
"Don't be shy, Roy. Say what you really think."
Roy laughed until Skipper joined in with rueful chuckles. "So you nixed the missions that day, yeah?"
Skipper scowled, swinging the Unicum bottle before taking another snort. "I did. Regrouping my team comes first before fixing the clock, envying Gus's tools or visiting damn bunnies like Private wanted to do."
"Private, er, is he, um - good?"
"Absolutely, he's good - oh. That way. I don't kiss and tell, Roy."
"Sorry. I already know about Marlene and wondered about him."
"What? How in the hell would you know that?"
Roy waggled his ears until their movement made Skipper dizzy. "You two made an ingewikkeld racket on May Day. Burt and I didn't want to say anything."
"Holy - Burt, too?"
"Well, bird, between his ears and mine, well. Yeah."
"Shit."
"Uh huh."
Skipper tapped the cap onto the Unicum, slithered down from Roy's head with an ow damn headache when he landed and replaced the guitar and Unicum behind the photobooth, muttering all the while. "Don't ask me anymore if it's worth it, Spikenose. It is, but don't ask me please."
"You got it, buddyboy. See you later?"
"I dunno, maybe. Maybe it's date night? I dunno." At Roy's throat clearing and opening his mouth to speak, he added, "Don't ask me who with, either!"
"Chill, bird. I can keep my mouth shut."
Skipper patted the sturdy leg of his friend before stopping with an ouch bad move Skipper at the jarring movement. "It's one of the things I like about you. Does it bother you to keep secrets from Burt?"
"No. I don't ask him about Paris and he doesn't ask me about Tijuana."
"Excelente. That's the way to keep friends, well, enough introspection, 'bye."
IOIOIOIOIO
As Skipper approached his home with stolid resolve to wring enjoyment from this Saturday however he could, he witnessed that Rico burped something up for Kowalski and passed it to him. The leader swam slowly through the pond, willing his ulcers to remain quiet after their medicinal liqueur treatment. Instead of jetting out of the water like he generally did, he clambered up with one flipper, then the other and then one leg at a time onto the faux floe. Kowalski stayed involved with some problem and did not helicopter over him for once.
"Sir, Tactic bit me."
Skipper burst out laughing, then held his hungover head. "Ow. Remind me to check my sense of humor at the door. Kowalski, Tactic is a kid."
"Easy for you to say. He drew blood, see?" The tip of Kowalski's flipper showed red until he slapped Rico's Band-Aid over it. "That's my smartphone dialing and computer poking appendage, too."
Rico held Tactic firmly as he asked the tot face to face, "Jefepank?"
The isabelline baby hiccupped to the awwws of Rico and Skipper. Kowalski glared at the lad. "Not awwww, Tactic, not at all. That hurt Daddy."
"JefenTikkipayfy," said Rico as he went into his favorite play with his son.
Skipper and Kowalski stood a little apart from the demo expert who swung Tactic round and round Rico's substantial waist like Lindbergh landing in Paris. When Rico stopped spinning, he brought Tactic's belly to his beak and bzzzzzed against it, to the baby's delight.
Kowalski and Skipper observed with the nipping experience still simmering between them.
"That little ... little ... oh I can't say it. That hurt, sir." Kowalski put his flipper into his pit and looked aggrieved.
"Kids can hurt us and not mean to, compadre."
"But after all we do for them! It's not fair! It's, it's, almost Gentoo of them!" Kowalski pulled out his flipper to examine it. The Band-Aid had absorbed any blood but Skipper bet it still stung.
"Pain is part of life. Forget about it, pendejo," murmured Skipper.
Kowalski ducked his head. "You haven't called me that since we - "
"Aw, hell, I call you that because I love you." Skipper cut Kowalski off as he watched Private toss the thongs from flipper to flipper while he skipped around the island before approaching them.
"Wh-What?"
"Agape, pendejo, agape."
"Oh. Right back at you, sir."
Private moved towards Skipper in a way that could only be called a mince. The young penguin displayed a school girlish grin which Skipper mirrored while answering Kowalski without looking at him directly. "And about that other thing, I remember, you know. It's been awhile since Guatemala, but I remember."
"A lot has transpired since then."
"Yup. Private, you look chipper." Private threw him a saucy glance before slingshotting both thongs into his love's face. Kowalski thought that Doctor Phil would have detected a twinge of malice in the throw as Skipper laughed shortly and let the things hit him.
Rico guffawed as he bounced Tactic and Kowalski joined in guffawing, a little too loudly. Sally remained slumbering in between the scientist's legs.
"Honey, it's super to be rid of these thongs, no offense, K'walski. Now we can cuddle our babies to our heart's content." He offered a meaningful look to his commander. "And get back to normal or new normal, wotever you want to call it."
He goosed his commander and tsked at the resulting jump.
"Whoa now!" gasped Skipper.
Private wilted. "I'll stop if you don't like - "
"Did I say I didn't like it?" Skipper gestured to Sally between Kowalski's legs. "We don't need to plant seeds in Her Ladyship's teensy mind with sleep teaching, though. So later, okay?"
Private's lower beak quivered. "R-Righto. Later." He turned as if to leave and then turned back. "A d-date?"
Skipper caved. "If you say so."
"A d-date. A d-date. A da-" and then Skipper and Kowalski couldn't hear his tiny voice any more as he retreated down the ladder with stumbling steps.
"Poor kid."
Kowalski looked to have forgotten about his injury. "Why so?"
"He's adulting like crazy. Makes me - "
"Sad? Nostalgic? What, sir?"
"Horny."
It was Kowalski's turn to laugh, but he didn't. "Color me unsurprised. Sir."
- 103
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Undertow