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Watermelon Snow
By : pronker
Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar
Views: 2672 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction using the Penguins of Madagascar characters owned by Dreamworks. -
Chapter List
- 1-Watermelon Snow
- 2-2/50
- 3-3/50
- 4-4/50
- 5-5/50
- 6-6/50
- 7-7/50
- 8-8/50
- 9-9/50
- 10-10/50
- 11-11/50
- 12-12/50
- 13-13/50
- 14-14/50
- 15-15/50
- 16-16/50
- 17-17/50
- 18-18/50
- 19-19/50
- 20-20/50
- 21-21/50
- 22-22/50
- 23-23/50
- 24-24/50
- 25-17-18/50 SLASH INTERLUDE BETWEEN CH. 17 AND 18. AU ON 'WATERMELON SNOW'
- 26-24A/50 SLASH VERSION OF CH. 24 FOR KICKS AND GIGGLES *** AU ***
- 27-25/50
- 28-26/50
- 29-27/50
- 30-28/50
- 31-29/50
- 32-30/50
- 33-31/50
- 34-32/50
- 35-33/50
- 36-34/50
- 37-35/50
- 38-36/50
- 39-37/50
- 40-38/50
- 41-39/50
- 42-40/50
- 43-41/50
- 44-42/50
- 45-43/50
- 46-44/50
- 47-45/50
- 48-46/50
- 49-47/50
- 50-48/50
- 51-49/50
- 52-50/51
- 53-51/51
The words got in front of Private's beak before he could stop them. "Give me one good reason why we should believe an assassin about the king or anythin' else, Skippa." He crossed his flippers over his chest and did a fantastic imitation of the sulky teen penguin that he had been until recently.
Skipper's reply came by rote from not so very long ago. "Because I say so." No, no, he deserved more than that. "We came here to gather intel tonight, so let's do that thing." He dismissed rumbling from the ranks as he had had to do throughout his career and addressed Sasquatch. "You tried to kill me. Why?" The direct approach was always best.
"Answer a few of my questions first and I might tell you." Sasquatch stood as tall as the obelisk in Central Park and as cryptically inscribed. "What did you mean when you said you help animals?"
Ahah, an easy one. "It's what we do. We're trained in commando skills and we stay razor sharp in physical condition." He caught her giving him the once over and straightened up. "Our team operates like a ghostly wind in the shadows in covert operations out of sight of humans except in dire necessity. Rico produces any materiel or ordnance we need to solve an animal's problem" --- okay, technically this was stretching things, but just one look at Rico's beaming beak made Skipper charge ahead --- "Kowalski can outthink anyone I've ever met" --- am I going to regret these words, he wondered --- "and Private is the nice, cute, and cuddly one --- " he caught himself --- "who is a valued member of our team. An extra special valued member." Time to shift focus onto her. "Your turn." He saw Kowalski produce his clipboard to sketch notes.
Sasquatch was uncooperative. She folded her arms and leaned against the stable's unpeeled cedar log wall. "What's it get you, doing things for others?"
A not so easy one. "Honor, pride in a job well done, and character up to our eyeballs, sister." Skipper really needed to sit down and disguised it by high-oneing Rico as he muttered, "Chair me." Rico hawked up a mini red, white, and blue beanbag chair and pushed Skipper down on it. "Okay, sing, primate."
She extended one hairy ankle and crossed it over the other one. She sucked in a cheek and chewed on it as she thoughtfully considered the ground. Skipper couldn't remember if looking to the right mean a lie or the truth. As usual, he went with his gut. "Was it because you're friends with Blowhole and he asked a favor?"
"Not friends. He's got the resources to do what is vital to my kind and he has this bigger plan that I don't understand. Getting you out of the way permanently is only part of it." She hardened. "And you're alive unless I end you here tonight."
Rico, Private, and Kowalski closed in behind the chair. Private gripped the back of it so hard it crackled, Kowalski raised his clipboard as he would a shuriken, and Rico glowered as only he could. "Any time you're ready." Skipper almost didn't recognize Private's voice.
"As if." Sasquatch straightened. Her shoulders dropped. She planted both feet and looked nearly placid.
Negotiating was muy, muy difícil. "So, Sasquatch, the king. Not gonna dethrone him, huh?"
"Pblblblblbl. It's business as usual if I had to." She kept a wary eye on the team behind him. "There's nothing in it for me."
"Time out. There's a lot in it for you if you keep Blowhole as partner and report on him to us. We'll make it worth your while." There. Plan B. Actually, it was Plan F in this night's ever-changing sitch. He was dealing.
She didn't hesitate. "I need him. You can't do for me what he can."
"We might be Option Number Two to you, but we'll try harder."
Sasquatch measured them. "No deal. When he calls tomorrow night, oh harreram I mean tonight, I won't mention you lived but I'm not on your side. Not telling my fail keeps you out of the line of fire, too, Skipper." She bared her broken teeth at him in a gruesome grimace too shocking to be called a smile. Skipper admitted to feeling justified in seeing the damage that he and Private had wrought.
"We'll be in touch because we can. Count on it."
Kowalski's scientific curiosity got the better of him. "How can you know when he'll call? There's no clock."
She pointed out the north door. "He calls when Arcturus shines over the lightning rod on the admin building."
Kowalski noticed something about the television screen. "The white dot stays on as a carrier signal. The humans haven't noticed your TV doesn't work right?"
She made a dismissive noise. "They're too wrapped up in His Royal Snootiness' visit. There's the door, what's your hurry?"
Skipper sat as still as the northern lights never were. "Think it over. Blowhole is only out for Blowhole. You sound like a team player."
"Whatever." She likely picked up that jaded expression from Blowhole. Skipper rose and his team flanked him as they made their way through the south door. Private produced a very dirty look backwards at their exit along the path that humans took and did not wave and smile at Imelda and her cub as they passed the polar bear habitat. Their habitat vibrated with a mood of furious thinking as they settled into nighttime routines to soothe themselves back into sleep for the rest of the dark hours.
"No TV," Skipper ordered as Kowalski picked up the remote to switch away from the flickering unused channel that provided their light. "No shower." Private took off his shower cap. "No hobby time." Rico secured his stamp collection album out of the walkway. They looked askance at each other and then at Skipper. He spread open his flippers. "Preen me, penguins."
They sectioned him off like a picnic potluck plan and finished in record time. They shared a relaxed grin when they were done, except for Private. "Hey, what do you know? This does maintain social order," declared Skipper. "Now grab some z's. We've got things to do tomorrow, I mean today, and tomorrow, too. You know what I mean." Rico slid silently into the bunk and patted the space beside him.
"I'm going topside to calculate where Arcturus will be tonight from our habitat in relation to the admin building's coordinates, Rico. Don't wait up." Rico rumbled a reply and turned over.
Skipper shook off the tension of the night and by the time Kowalski came back he was ready to sack out. He was about to signal Private to get into bed when he saw what the little pipsqueak planned to do all along.
Cripes with a clutch purse, there was Private whispering to Kowalski. Kowalski sidled towards him and Skipper held up both flippers. "I didn't slide, I didn't!"
"We could only hear big fat hairy loudmouths Blowhole and Sasquatch after he got on the blower. What happened to you to worry Private, Skipper?" Private moved out of earholeshot to place the remote exaggeratedly back in position on top of the TV. He brushed a flipper over it to clear off dust. He flicked away fish scales from the massage table. He placed Faux Skipper atop the pile of patterned pillows in the corner after dressing him in the unused Snuggie.
Skipper couldn't lie to one of his men. "The whole damn world drained back and forth like the tide. I circled the drain. I came to after --- um.""Yeeeeessss?"
"After I lifted Private to safety, but I didn't slide! I swear it by General Lee's dual carburetors! I had to do it. Blowhole could have spotted him and he froze. I thought he had upped his game lately, too. He's still a boy in many ways."
"Let me see." Kowalski riffled the sparse new feathers to peek underneath at the still swollen left side. Skipper remained impassive as his lieutenant prodded his breastbone, pressed his head to the chest to listen to the heart and then stepped back. "It's only a dizzy spell."
"Okay, okay."
"You're still a quart low on blood."
"So I can't lead. Splendid."
"Granted things are changed now that Dr. Blowhole looms on the horizon, but I won't bench you. We'll run interference for you if necessary. Give it until the solstice. You'll be fit enough for anything then. Even Dr. Oz would agree."
"Anything?" Skipper's gaze considered Private, flitting about as he did this and the other thing.
Kowalski followed Skipper's line of sight. "Yes. That, too." Skipper questioned him with a look. "I meant for protecting our youngest member, what did you mean?"
"Same thing," Skipper grunted. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"No reason. Good night, sir." They both turned in. Skipper thought 'lying in wait' was the appropriate legal term for what he was doing to Private. He knew right what he was going to say to him. Two snores in sync emerged soon from the opposite bunk. Private turned off the set directly afterward and settled in but not before bringing up what Skipper was unprepared for.
"I know you're awake. You said when Dale The Snail became my arch that I shouldn't try to understand him, but go on thinkin' of him as the enemy so's not to lose my edge. Wot's different with Sasquatch?"
It took a moment to come up with a reasonable reply. "Dale's reasons for wanting you dead were for revenge. Sasquatch didn't know me at all and it's necessary on any mission to figure motivations otherwise you don't have a clue as to how to defeat the enemy. It was the impersonal versus the personal aspect for Sasquatch. Impersonal is like she, she thinks beyond the petty. What I think is that impersonal is more dangerous because a wrong-headed cause can go on after the individual enemy is deader than I, or you, could ever make him or her if things come to life or death, Rockgut forbid."
"I'll need to sleep on that one, Skippa."
"You do that. Buenas noches."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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