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Undertow	By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 11342 -:- 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/?
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- 110-110/112
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- 17
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- 19
As day followed day and they slipped in and out of each other's dreams more often than not, Skipper realized things incandesced to a flashpoint between himself and Private. The Thanksgiving Talent Show proved him right.
Never had the team been in better voice on center stage of the Zoovenir Shop. The attentive smaller animals seated on checkout stand and plushy bins while Roy and Burt took turns viewing at the door, an evening's entertainment commenced Hollywood Palace style. Pinkie and her flock squawked Colors of the Wind as they river danced, the lemurs wailed Similau with Maurice on drums and the spider monkeys Ladysmith Black Mambazoed a decent The Lion Sleeps Tonight, yet the harmony of doo-wop Earth Angel was voted first prize, appendages down. Leonard's recitation of Invictus won second. Burt and Roy's haka duet placed third and nearly brought down the house, literally. All agreed it had been a tough playing field.
Skipper floated like his namesake butterfly as the team trundled homeward from the Zoovenir Shop. He hummed because he couldn't help himself, the sublime lyrics to Earth Angel blending with the sultrier words to Similau. Say what you would about Ringtail's priorities, his rendition of the tune with lyrics like beat the hollow cane and echo in the afterglow led the mind down the Happy Trail.
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time ...
Make the body ripe and alive again
Ay Similau, Ay Similau, Ay Similau ...
As Skipper hummed, Private skipped along and echoed everyone's thoughts in that way he had. "Best talent show ever! Yayyyyy!"
"Wedateam!"
"Indubitably, Rico!"
Skipper cradled the trophy, a hoppity-frog clicker toy in Barry's likeness, not his choice but hey, it was the acclaim that counted. "You sang well, men."
"You would have led us to victory, sir, with my falsetto or not! Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!" Kowalski cheered with the others as they reached their faux floe. A faint 'huzzah!' echoed from Marlene's habitat before the quartet dropped through the hatch. Rico hit the fridge straightaway for a drink. His cough had lingered longest from his headcold and Kowalski hypothesized it was because his miracle throat was the gateway from his miracle gut.
Kowalski backflipped onto their multi purpose table. "Leonard outdid himself with Invictus, way to go, Leonard, but for next year can't we recite parts for Gunga Din?" He struck a pose, declaiming for all he was worth in his favored baritone. "I'll do the stanzas, Skipper, you do the rhyming lines!"
You may talk o' gin an' beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But if it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
Now in Injia's sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen ...
" --- and then Rico pantomimes Din giving water, see, while Private plays the thirsty soldier in battle, and you, sir, rattle off the bits flaying poor Din alive, see, like this: You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been? Can't you just hear yourself?"
"Heh. Yeah. I guess so." Skipper placed the Barry-clicker atop their TV. "Next Thanksgiving is a long way off, Kowalski." He sat at his usual head of table spot. "Who knows where we'll be then?"
Rico gasped over his juice box straw and Private clapped him on the back. "Sputterhackwhut?"
"Are we being transferred, sir?" Kowalski jumped down from the table. Three curious faces turned towards their leader.
"Huh? No! Not that I know of. I meant that in the philosophical sense."
Now Private choked, and he hadn't the excuse of spluttering over a swallow of juice. Kowalski and Rico took turns slamming his back.
"Ph-Philosophy? You?" Private finally managed.
He could do this. He could explain himself. It was difficult to find words, though. "Steady as she goes, tiny bunny steps, men --- where are we, as a team?"
"Suitable for any mission: underwater demo, covert ops, surveillance," ventured Kowalski into the six-minute silence.
"Foedawin!" averred Rico stoutly.
"We're at a crossroads, I think, gents." Private's statement earned a leaderly nod. "We're two teams in one, you, K'walski, and you, Rico, make up one team and Skippa and I the other."
Kowalski's brow climbed until you couldn't see his black-feathered crown for all the white. "Well, suuuuure, if you think of romance, Private, but where does that stand in the scheme of our team? This unit consists of four superbly trained operatives ready for whatever mission comes our way, right, sir?" The scientist couldn't be more smug. That attitude had its uses, but not this time. Skipper chose his next words carefully.
"That's an outstanding answer for what we are, Kowalski, but Private cuts to where the heart of our team is." Private beamed. Oh, yeah, these were the right words. Why did Private's input shine light onto the murkiest issues? He'd think about that later. "We're two teams now and we were one before Åland. Our love lives found a way into our team life. It had to happen."
"Jolly good, I say."
Befuddled but willing to go along with the crowd, Rico could only spew, "Hah?"
Kowalski's latest romance had sharpened his emotional senses to a large degree. "Well put, sir, and our crossroads is, um, er --- what, again?"
Now came the silly part, the part that was cliquish and strange for an adult bird well past the teen years. "Who we tell and what we tell and what do we do if Animal X says this and not that. You know, grownup stuff." Skipper forced out the word. "Politics."
A chorus of ews filled the lair, but Skipper steamed ahead. "Questions? Comments? At ease, team, I need everyone's thoughts." He felt the need to lighten things up. "Democracy. Yay. You first, Rico."
A profound frown preceded a shrug. "Yagotme, 'Kipppaaahhh."
"Try. That's an order."
Rico fistpumped as an idea struck. "'Eenie!" He slumped. "Zatzalleyegot."
Progress! "Marlene, eh? Agreed, she's been our good friend a long time, even if she does side with the lemurs now and then."
Kowalski had had a few minutes to think and wanted details. "Tell her what? I don't get it. Why tell any animal anything? Doesn't that go against our covert operations mandate?"
Private wanted to know something, now that he had had time to think. "Yeah, I agree with K'walski, Skippa. It's nobody's affair, er, business, except ours." He grew plaintive. "Part of romancin', as I take it now I'm in one, is sweetly secret-like, at least from pryin' outsiders, and I think, um, I wouldn't fancy it if, er, everybody knew about you and me. I'd feel right spied upon." His soft blue eyes looked puzled. "Wouldn't you?"
This confab was circling the drain, and Private's lack of experience with romance shone forth. Everyone would know about his love life sooner or later because there was always a certain look that two animals had when they were together-together that others picked up on. Controlling information was the way to go, per regs. "Out and up front is where we come from, team, because we come on from strength. We've faced down maniac dolphins, space squid invasions, sasquatches and clogged sewer drains. This intel, when we release it, doesn't change our operation one eensy bit." He sought to reassure. "Our command structure remains top secrety secret, as always. I thought I implied that. This is brainstorming before any overt action, so chill out."
Kowalski reached a conclusion. "Mmmm, if that's the case and the Big Boss stays out of the picture, I'm good with --- what, a group meeting? Lemurs and all?"
"Lemurzugh." Rico was succinct as usual.
Time to wrap up this up and get back to celebrating their win. "Probably not, but I haven't decided yet. Group meeting, or individual meetings, or blast the news through Alice's intercom?"
Tittering died down after a while. "I am thankful that this meetin's over, Skippa, so let's enjoy the rest of Thanksgivin' before lights out. And tomorrow is Black Friday, a perfect day for a penguin! Well, halfway, anyway."
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. The word echoed through Skipper's soul and without doubt, Black Friday would be perfect for taking their relationship to the next level.
"How about a stroll, Private?"
"Is this an official date?"
Skipper smirked. "It's low key, so let this be the .5 to bring our dates up to a round number. You know how I like round numbers."
Rico yawned. "Gnite." Kowalski followed him into their bunk with a yawn himself.
The night bloomed like a black sapphire with starry roses deep in its depths. The two birds waddled by Burt and waved when he flapped his ears at them; the spider monkeys hunkered down in their tree, quiet for once; Marlene's snores reached their earholes from inside her cave; Mason and Phil looked at ease in their tree, hands entwined; and the rhino habitat held Roy in a rare asleep-on-his-side pose.
Private guided Skipper to the fountain, where they swam, splashed and played. Pennies cascaded in coppery piles on the bottom of the shallow waters, a substance to sculpt and swirl. Their eyes adjusted to the darkness and the water seemed nothing more than a new coat on their own feathery coverings. The fresh water did not buoy them as did their native seawater; it took effort to stay afloat. Skipper and Private slipped their flippers under each other's shoulders and paddled steadily, cheek to cheek until Private turned his head towards his love's.
"Sapphires, your eyes are like sapphires, Skippa. There are little stars in the blue parts."
"You're a poet, Private."
"You made me one."
"Aw, go on with you."
"It's true!"
"Mmmhm, if you say so." Skipper rubbed Private's neck. "Poetry and starlight are well and good, but --- "
"Yes?"
"We have earthier pursuits to enjoy that Mama Nature gave us and she did all right by us penguins, so how about you and I play a little deeper than kisses in her sandbox?"
Private's voice rose. "How about it? I say bloody all right!" He seized Skipper in a bear hug and rolled on top to push him under the water, grinding himself against the join of leg and body. From under the water, Skipper looked up at a loved face wracked with the awakening of lust, and he didn't advance on that territory, at least not just yet. Well within a penguin's breath control at a standard eighteen minutes, he watched as Private pushed, strained and finally came. The release dissipated into the water as Private slumped and Skipper held him in tender flippers after surfacing beside him.
"Breathe, boyo. Thaaat's right, I've got you. I've always got you."
Private buried his face in the nook between Skipper's neck and shoulder and sobbed, "Thank you, thank you, Skippa and now I w-want to do somethin' for you --- "
Soon I won't need to beat the hollow cane by myself, thought Skipper. "I'm good for tonight because I sang how I feel about you. It's enough for one day. But tomorrow --- "
Private quivered for more reasons than one when the sapphires sparkled brighter than before.
IOIOIOIOIO
- 17
- 18
- 19
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Undertow