Watermelon Snow | By : pronker Category: +M through R > Penguins of Madagascar Views: 2672 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this fanfiction using the Penguins of Madagascar characters owned by Dreamworks. |
A/N NON-GRAPHIC SLASH INTERLUDE BETWEEN CHAPTERS 17 AND 18 *** SFW SLASH, IS THAT AN OXYMORON? *** AU VERSION OF 'WATERMELON SNOW' FOR KICKS AND GIGGLES
IOIOIOIOIO
There was only a scattered showing of aurora that night, a teasing flicker now and then like a talented magician's show of smoke and mirrors. Skipper turned off the 52-inch television set and climbed in beside Private, and if they snuggled together for warmth closer than the norm and traced each other's flippers in welcome, nobody could spy them in the near pitch black.
"I'm back."
"So I see, Skippa."
"You can see in this scary nothingness?"
Private stretched out his flipper casually and Skipper rested his head on it. "All I need to, right as rainbows."
"Forget I said scary. It's not, now."
Skipper was nearly asleep when Private said, "I get scared, too, lots. I'm thinkin' I'll get over it the next mission, but I don't."
"Doesn't matter. It's what you do after you know you're scared that counts." A question plagued Skipper. "Do you really think my ego is fragile?"
"I used to."
Skipper spoke softly so as not to disturb the others, although from the sounds issuing from the opposite bunk, Kowalski and Rico weren't asleep yet. "I'll admit it got that way before P.E.L.T. But when I smacked down the freeze ray blasts of solid bone-crunching cold, when I kicked the Blue Hen's nasty blue ass, then it got better."
"Mmmhmm, and I'm so glad." Private rolled to his side and his other flipper swept downwards. "Because now I'm goin' to do this."
"Be gentle with me. It's been a while."
"Damn skippy, gentle is the word."
Skipper burst out laughing before covering his beak. "Ow! Don't make me laugh hard, it still hurts --- where did you hear that?"
"Somethin' Joey said when we all had to bleedin' sing from that MP3 player gone tango uniform, I mean tits up." Private tried out new vocabulary before continuing his activity. Somehow testing new things was easier in the dark. "Damn. That singin' blew donkey balls, that did." He giggled and retreated to the lexicon most comfortable for him.
"Uhhhhnnngh --- "
"Hurtin' you is the last thing on my mind, we can stop --- "
"I'm not up to much. Bending still hurts a lot, and then there's the foot that throbs, and the headache that just started up again --- "
Private stopped what he was doing. "Righto. Another time."
"You okay in there, Skipper?" Kowalski's voice was high-pitched.
"I'm fine. You and Rico?"
"Just not sleepy yet, got to work off some ergs, I think Rico isn't getting enough exercise during the day, stop that Rico that's ... that's ... oh ... "
"The foxes who will return to this habitat are family oriented. Let's not do anything in their bunks that would change that rating, men." Murmurs of assent came from Kowalski and Rico's bunk but then there was a tussle resulting in Kowalski falling onto the floor. Skipper thought he heard Kowalski mutter cold feet, warm heart.
Private thought hard. "Skippa, it's like I'm finally catchin' up to you and we were all hatched at the same time. Yayyy!" He was beside himself at the notion.
Skipper had to set him straight. "We weren't hatchlings together, Private, but we're all adults together."
The aurora continued until magnetic midnight, when it faded and only a scattering of stars pierced the gathering ice haze of Åaland's cloud cover. The fading of the aurora and dimming of the stars made their habitat darker than they'd become accustomed to. With the light banished, Rico and Kowalski, Skipper and Private explored and sighed, moaned, and giggled two by two, and when morning arrived, knowing looks all around made everyone blush underneath his feathers.
"What happens in the bunk stays in the bunk, men. I expect no change in mission behavior, are we clear?"
Everyone nodded. Skipper paced more slowly than usual before his assembled squad, coffee mug in hand. The sardine stir stick looked floppier than anyone could ever remember.
''Are you still wanting to take your morning meeting with Private in private, Skipper?" Kowalski and Rico kept straight faces but Private had to bend down to scratch an itchy foot. He stayed down longer than necessary at Skipper's reply.
"Yes, I need to be in private this morning. We're discussing changes to his training. I want to firm up his first class status --- I see what you did there. Ha. Ha."
Kowalski couldn't let it go. "His status? Is that what they're calling it now?" Rico grabbed Kowalski's neck in a choke hold. Kowalski put up no defense and eventually dragged himself back to sobriety. "Apologies, sir. Are we to take it that Operation: Stop A Sasquatch is a go?"
"Affirmative, right after you preen me. Don't poke me this time."
Kowalski said solemnly, "I'd never. I hear Private has that job now --- "
Private couldn't hold it in any more. He rolled on the floor gasping and wheezing.
"Will you stop, Kowalski? Cheese and crackers! On second thought, Private, I'm pulling out of our private meeting until we get back to New York City." Skipper glared at Kowalski and Rico. "No comments. That's an order."
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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