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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/?
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- 26
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"Put it there, by Genderblender." Frances kept it together as Moley emerged from the shadows. "Jeff did me a favor and dropped it off here, I don't know why because he could have dumped it with New Jersey trash or sold it --- "
A Manhattanite strode purposefully by, avoiding eye contact with someone whose body language screamed of distress. A couple strolling hand in hand in the opposite direction paused upon seeing one man attempting to lift a large burden. The woman gestured to her companion to help, but a curt fingersnap from the figure pushed away any assistance. The couple went on their way, wrapped in a private bubble.
Moley hefted the piece of furniture made of solid wood from the sidewalk to the interior of Funkytown's lot in an impressive show of strength, but Frances missed the sight when her vision blurred. She groped in the box of treasured hutch contents to place them on shelves.
"Frawnces not cry."
"I c-can't help it, Moley. Oyá doesn't do much for me tonight except to start me feeling that loss is part of life, no don't put your arm around me or I'll crack wide open --- gods, I could use a smoke --- "
"Shzbsh, Frawnces. Now."
A seven foot tall china hutch stood beside the Genderblender. A collection of antimacassars, figurines of little china animals and the fragments of a lifetime of family memories decorated the shelves. Frances slumped to bury her face in Moley's shoulder as he patted her quaking back. "You're nice to me and I don't deserve you. What did you see in me when Mrsdm first surfaced? Why are we friends? Why, why?"
"Cnit."
Frances let it all go as would Oyá in battle mode, crying loudly before swallowing back further sobs. "Why? I want to know why you want me to live with you without bedding benefits, why I shouldn't join the homeless in the warm sewers tonight and hang out by trash fires in Manhattan or Weehawken or Hoboken, oh it doesn't really matter where I live --- I'm a burden to Felicity because her house is packed full in ordinary times and tonight she has this enormous Martin Luther King Day party going on but I couldn't stand the noise another minute --- "
"Cnit."
"Okay." Frances continued with an occasional hiccup. "Mom's hutch will get ruined by the rain or snow, when it finally snows this winter, and I need sh-shelter somewhere. I don't want to burden you, either --- was that a kiss?" She rubbed her cheek.
"Frawnces pretty like rose quartz." Moley sniffed the notch of Frances' throat and she froze as still as the inanimate copper and wooden crafted pieces. "Frawnces smell like spring flowers. No flowers in deeps, only mushrooms. You grn, Frawnces, that is why." He went back to hugging her and she went limp as he nuzzled the turquoise hair behind her ear. "My drzhp, whash you want next?"
So he liked her for her looks and her scent? Animals shopped for mates like that; Frances felt her self-esteem adjust downwards three levels from Santeria strata. She'd only imagined she was equanimical with her reduced circumstances because tonight showed her that she had been living high on the bush hog in a rundown boarding house. Being homeless proved more sobering than it would seem, because she had optimistically thought it might feel freeing on January 14 when Jeff knocked on her door with final eviction notices. Jeff had shut up for once except for a single question. "Wait, where do yez want your mom's furniture?"
She gave him the address numbly in as mechanical a voice as one of her kiddie rides used to have, he wrote it down laboriously for the guy driving the pickup and she would never remember the ride from Hoboken to Manhattan. Funkytown offered no overt shelter aboveground; the airlock below the Moon Rocket would have to cover her in bad weather.
She made herself brighten as she faced reality in the here and now, on her own and bypassing Santeria. In hot weather, the airlock and descending tunnel would work well as a residence, because underground temps stayed steady at 52 degrees, a little chilly but she could make do. She'd packed sweaters, leggings, gloves and cold weather clothing on the notion that one could always add clothing in layers. There were decent limits to taking clothes off, though.
"What do I want next? Give me some mushrooms to nibble on, Moley. I'm depending on you for food until I get food benefits started, I'll need to put up a post box on the lot for my mail, change my address with the post office, tell Godmother Felicity not to expect me tomorrow night, and other things as they arise. I'll lick this problem." She squared her shoulders. "I'm not a Yale grad for nothing."
"Thrv one day at time, Frawnces."
He looked up at her, his heart as plain and simple as a king's gets. She poked him in the arm fraternally. "I am here for you and you are here for me. We're Team Rocket, never mind the reference."
"Frmkl Rocket, I like."
"Me, too." Frances wiped her face with her sleeve hard enough to jangle her bracelets. "I'm hungry, Moley."
"Morels on menu."
"Mmmmmm. That's a start."
IOIOIOIOIO
"Gee, Skippa, wot do you want to do tonight?"
"Same as we do every night, Private. Try to take over the world."
"We'll thwart you two. We do every time."
"AhgrommmtzRio. Karnivahl!"
Risk: Penguin Commando Version lay before the team, ready for conquest. Planet Earth blossomed ripe for the taking in front of the two teams in one. Skipper settled into his habitual spot at head of their all purpose table. "Armies in place for deployment?"
"Check, Skippa." Private picked up the die, twiddling it masterfully before his roll of highest count. "I claim Antarctica!"
"Bold move, Private. Rico and I salute you." Rico's face was less generous than his partner's words. He pouted.
"Ahgrommtzhome. Bad 'Rivate."
"I am not!"
"Rico, fair is fair. The Antarctica gambit means Private gets two extra reinforcements per turn and it can only be accessed by one territory, Australia." Kowalski seemed happy to dump this info on his teammates without thinking of consequences to his own player success.
Rico phased from disgruntled into smug. "Palsies, Kwoskii?"
"You know it, bird." Rico high oned his love and stuck his tongue out at Private.
"Hehburn."
Skipper groaned. "This isn't the cheaters version of the game, men. Play within the rules."
"Now, Skipper, forming allies is unofficially official." Kowalski beamed at his love before turning to his commander. "I'm assuming that you and Private --- "
"Wot'll our signals be tonight, Skippa? Let's do a change up from when we played before. I vote for secrety-secret codewords!" A series of winks made Skipper uncomfortable.
"Not this time --- "
"Whyever not? We nearly had K'walski and Rico dead to rights for the win before I accidentally upset the board last weekend." There existed a tone that Skipper had not heard before in his love: entitlement. His discomfort shaded into something more intense.
"I just think partnership's not a thing you and I need as a strategy every time, that's all. Let's each go it alone for tonight and let Kowalski and Rico team up, if they want to."
Petulance flavored the young penguin's response. "Well, if you want. I guess I'll have to, now."
Minutes of silence descended as artillery, infantry, and cavalry units assumed their places by each penguin's side as the game began. Kowalski broke the conversational ice blithely.
"Private, alliances aren't limited to two players, so you could join Rico and me --- "
"Yah!"
Skipper swore later that he made not one move or look or growl to either encourage or dissuade this option, but Private forged ahead after a pointed look in his direction. "Righto, gents, three against one it is. Let's see now, South America --- ooh, look, that's Chile! --- is closest to Antarctica and and, er --- " His brow dipped and rose. "K'walski, why isn't South America the one territory that Antarctica gets attacks from? It's the closest continent to our home, not Australia."
Kowalski assumed the position of know-it-all. The only two heads who didn't swivel in his direction for information were Skipper's from his accustomed seat and Faux Skipper's plasticky one from over by the porthole. "Australia has less population and ports to attack from, I believe. If I were to design a game, I'd want to be fairest to the smallest, least populated continent. Why, even Atlantis contains more folks than Antarctica."
Skipper made a face at the ongoing blather after he rolled his die. "I claim Atlantis. Underwater combat is my forte, I commanded underwater attack teams when I was stationed there, so look out, all three of you. I'm not outnumbered."
Kowalski swallowed his tongue for a minute. "Kaffkaffgwah, Skipper, we're not ganging up on you, and all of us know that you've the greater experience in battle --- "
This was getting out of hand, for a game night. "Right as thunderclouds, viejo, I do." Skipper's gaze swept the table. "Right as thunderclouds. Let's play."
Rico's sunny nature won the day. "FEEEEEESHon!"
Kowalski's laugh sounded forced. "Tee hee, Rico, just like Jeremy Wade would have said it, you make the best partner on and off the gaming table, my own big fella --- "
Rico looked queasy and he belched. Kowalski waved a flipper in front of himself. "Phew! That's ripe, Rico, um sorry to bring up mushy love stuff to unsettle you, here now think platonic thoughts straightaway --- "
Rico blanked his eyes to fix his problem. Five seconds later, he was cured.
"We playin' or not?" Private passed the die to Kowalski.
Rico placed his flipper over Kowalski's as Kowalski took his turn and Kowalski did likewise for Rico's turn. They whispered and then used their combined strength of sixty armies all on Asia's twelve territories.
"Wow," said Private. "That's goin' against known strategies. I'm amazed you have the guts."
"Join us, Private?" Kowalski offered a placating wink at Skipper before beckoning Private further. "We can dominate if you join us with the rest of your armies. That's what partnership is about, right, Skipper, a team against the outside world?"
Skipper rubbed the back of his neck. "Something like that, soldier. Asia has the most ports to drive an attack from and is the largest continent with twelve territories. It's generally poor strategy to risk --- yes I know what I said, Private, quit giggling --- placing all your forces there to diminish the risk --- for Tito's sake there you go again --- of spreading your forces too thin. Hmmm."
"And if I join you two, wot does that do? Make you big fat bullies?" Private did not sound as outraged at this possibility as he would have one year ago.
"It's not just us, Private, it's you, too, and bully is such a harsh word --- "
"Yah." Rico slid down in his seat. "Yahtis."
Skipper looked out the porthole at black water as Faux Skipper looked out, too. "Make up your mind, or we can quit to return to this another day, Private." He made his decision. "I'm banking my play on Atlantis, and nothing but Atlantis."
Private chose. "Skippa, your purist nature shows time and time again, however do you keep it up? I'll go with Rico and K'walski. There, it's done! The rest of my men on Asia."
Kowalski, Rico and Skipper sighed as one. "There are 44 territories and they all must be occupied, Private. Split up your forces," Kowalski reminded. "Joining us doesn't mean put all your eggs in one basket."
"Eggs, mmmm, righto. I wouldn't put my egg anywhere except on top of my feet, safe and warm to cuddle --- "
"For Sanger's sake, Private, stay on topic!"
"It's a saying, Private. Come on, decide."
Rico was succinct. "Divvynao."
"Done, gents." Private smirked. "We'll take you on head to bleedin' head, Skippa."
Skipper tamped down his blood pressure. "There's one unoccupied territory left, Private, and it's Argentina --- wait, wait! Argentina is next to Chile! I transfer one infantry unit from Atlantis to Argentina to cover the rules. Maybe when it gets leave it'll have funsies with the Chinstrap Sisters in Punta Arenas."
Private drummed his flippertips on the table. "Do you even remember their names? You always call them the Chinstrap Sisters. I'm just askin'."
"Estrellita," answered Skipper. "Juana. Araceli. Fanny. Fanny was the one who stayed home when we swam to Bouvet Island."
Private won the game night through a combination of good luck and possible cosseting by Rico and Kowalski. Skipper did not request another game night for two weeks.
IOIOIOIOIO
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Undertow