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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
At Skipper's request for privacy, his physical took place on the top level of their habitat in the very last bit of daylight. After much whispering, Private and Rico had departed to ready themselves for battle in the interior space.
Kowalski blew gently on the bald spot on Skipper's front to determine his combat fitness. After palpating the entire area, he declared that the swelling caused by the bruised spleen had improved and that the battle was not yet over to replace the sleek coat. "The white feathers are winning, but underneath will be the worst of your scars ever, sir."
"Meh."
"When you moult, it will show."
"Meh."
"The feathers might not grow in evenly after the moult."
"Meh."
"It could compromise your waterproofing ability. The Doc will have something more specialized to stop scarring than what is in my medico bag. We could raid his office in a surgical strike when we return to New York City."
"M-oh. 'Surgical strike'? You're cute. No needles?"
"No needles."
"If you think it's that important, we can schedule Operation: Operation first thing when we get back."
"Now who's being cute?" Kowalski continued the mandatory pre-mission exam. As the last bit of sun danced on the cusp of night, the sky's robin's egg blue shifted to a divine glaze of eggshell white over azure enamel. "You're up to sixty-nine per cent of your normal baseline in speed, strength, endurance and agility," he concluded. "A whole nineteen per cent more than the last exam. Congratulations."
"Aw, shiiiiii---take mushrooms. I'll need to depend on you all to run interference for me. I, I'm sorry, soldier."
"This isn't the first time --- "
Skipper looked down at his nude strip. "It may be for the highest stakes. When our possessed car knocked me out cold, Rico faced it down and won. If it had done us both in, the world would be out two penguins. If we fail now, the ice melt changes the world for the worse."
"Our little world would have been rocked without Rico and you." Kowalski stood straighter. "That counts for something."
"Pshaw. Moving along, did you kiss and make up with the Private?"
"Yeah. He told me that Prince Sharesalot says Oversharing is not the Lunacorn Way. That was awkward all around. Me and my big beak."
"What you said was the truth."
"So what. I don't need to be little Mister Truth-teller."
"Our team would be poorer if the sensitivity got knocked out of him, but yeah, some truths none of us like to hear. His truth is too cute for words."
"Marlene called him a sweetie."
"She ought to know. She's sweet as a Winkie herself and smart as a licorice whip."
"I agree, sir. We're done here." Kowalski used Ole's telescope to survey the horizon of the darkening sky as Skipper watched. He sighted in the evening star and the places where Arcturus and the Ploughman and the Bears would appear later. "Star positions charted and my internal alarm set for optimal departure window. There's a new moon tonight so Möckelövågen Road ought to be starlit only. There might be a traffic signal to govern access to Road 1, though."
"Darkness is the best cover of all. What did I tell you about fate? Even the moon is with us."
They trooped down the ramp to discover Private and Rico waiting for them. Rico stood three steps back from the foot of the ramp and Private stood three steps back from his penguin brother and one step to the side from Rico's right flipper. "We're practicin' a smashin' new routine. K'walski, you get on Rico's left side opposite me, Skippa, you get six steps directly behind Rico. On my mark, we charge up the ramp."
Kowalski got into place with a broad smile after returning Ole's telescope to Faux Skipper's corner. "Svinfylking!"
"Bless you!" the others chorused.
"No, svinfylking is the Viking name for the flying wedge attack."
Rico broke formation as he turned around with a scowl. "Futball!"
"Riiiight, Rico, the New York Behemoths use this tactic with another name, but it's the same principle of warriors guarding the weaker element inside ... their ... oh Tesla's manners, I've done it again."
"Ouch, Kowalski."
"Sorry, Skipper! You know what I mean."
Rico grumped futball under his breath and took up his place. "Mark!" cried Private. The wedge stormed uphill and by the top, their superb muscle memories catalogued the routine. After three more practices, it became second nature.
"Wot'll we name it?"
"Your call, soldier."
"We're lackin' a Routine Ten."
"Ten it is. Lights out, gentlemen." Skipper added the zinger that had just popped into his head. "The whole mission ought to be a milk run."
The groans did not subside for some time.
IOIOIOIOIO
Imelda did her best to stage whisper. "GUYTH! GUYTH!"
Kowalski assumed that Marcus was sleeping and waved the others on as he waddled to the polar bears' fence. He pointed to where she had previously loosened two bars on the top rail. "You may need to part these soon. The artic picks up Sasquatch and Hugo soon and we're moving against Blowhole before dawn, Imelda. If everything goes pear-shaped and none of us come back, just look innocent. If Sasquatch and Hugo get shafted back here by zoo overlords and we don't, see what you can do to free them because they really don't belong in a zoo anymore. Thank you for all you've done so far in surveillance and consulting on Skipper's health."
"I'll do what I CAN without endangering Marcuth. How ITH Thkipper?"
"Not too bad off. He's healing fast."
Imelda swam her moat to poke her nose through the fence. "That'th motht ECTHELLENT. Good care on YOUR part."
"We tried hard. Uh, well, this is it, as the saying goes. Goodbye."
"Bye!" Marcus' treble piped across the echoing waters.
"QUIET, THON!" Imelda's bellow made Kowalski wince. He slid to catch up with his team.
The four entered the moose habitat in the usual way. Because of the moonless night, they nearly missed Sasquatch stretching her arms to the sky as she stood atop the scaffolding with its attached ladder extended as high up as possible. After her wail faded, they paused until she somersaulted down in front of them. "Welcome," she said and led the way into her stable.
IOIOIOIOIO
''Go ahead, whoever is calling, make my night better. I dare you."
"Agent Twelve reporting. Brief surveillance complete. The Centre for GeoGenetic Research artic is in the zoo's parking lot, repeat, the artic is in the zoo's parking lot. Shipment transfer to Copenhagen indicated for tomorrow on the 7:30 a.m. ferry for Sweden from Berghamn on Åland. Estimated time of departure from zoo 5 a.m. via assumed most direct route which is Road 1. Twelve out."
"Twelvie! Go-o-o-o-o-o-d to hear your voice, lady! How's it going scooting around the island on the old Vespa?"
"What?"
"I mean, it must be a little fun, right? The wind in your ears, the sense of clandestine activity being discovered at any moment giving the cardio a bit of a workout? Come on, I've been cooped up in this lorry for ages so entertain me with a timely travelogue, you tusked terror of the tundra!"
"Walruses do not have ears and we do not live on the tundra."
"I was just going for alliteration. It's a weakness. Don't get offended!"
"Mmmm. As for the Vespa you provided, I traded it in for a hog."
"You needed to check with me first, Twelve. I venture that even in your human disguise, a person riding a Blue Ribbon Yorkshire sow around town gathers unwanted --- "
"A hog is a Harley-Davidson motorcycle imported from the colonies. It's a customized Trike Model Tri-Glide Ultra for your financial records. You ought to receive the invoice on your iPhone soonest. My weight and a Vespa's capabilities are incompatible."
"Oh, er, uh, I wanted to flatter you --- "
"Not necessary. Twelve out."
"Wait! Don't go! Wait. I want to talk to someone who understands the larger issues, like my bigger plan than murdering Skipper --- "
"Yeah, Twelve, us crabs are all talked out. Wait'll he gets going on --- "
"Shut it, Blue Three. You can be replaced on one seashore shell gathering soirée, I don't care about your seniority."
"Blowhole, this is becoming embarrassing. What do you want from me? I am nobody alluring like Agent Fiona ffolkes and you are no Commodore Danger. I work alone."
"I just want to talk. I'll pay you overtime."
"Very well, let's synchronize. You're on the clock starting at ... 2213 hours. I'm by the ocean where I cached the Trike so if you hear soughing noises, that's not me snoring, that's the tide coming in. Really."
"Whatever. So, um, Twelvie, do you believe in an afterlife?"
IOIOIOIOIO
Skipper paced in front of his augmented team or 'herd,' as Sasquatch would put it. "We must assume that Blowhole accessed information about your departure. He's got all the good stuff to gather intel despite being a bad guy." Kowalski growled but his leader ignored it. "His plan to plant a spike strip along Road 1 means you're in for a rough few minutes' ride. Be warned." Sasquatch and Hugo had moved their space heaters farther apart again, he noticed, and speculated as to the reason. Hugo had listened to the details of timing, fjord placement, road numbers and isolated country spots with the concentration of his solemn orangutan kind while Sasquatch showed a lesser degree of attention.
"So now I know what it's like having someone out for my particular hide," Sasquatch began. "It's the opposite of what a herd animal ever wants to feel." She looked like she was hunting for words and Skipper was disinclined to lend aid. Helping her physically relocate and stay alive was one thing, helping her psychologically was not his strong point. He gave what he could to a temporary ally and bulled on through.
"Yeah, so now you know. It became part of living when you danced with Lady -- I mean Sir Danger. Anyway, Blowhole didn't say for sure he was planning to off you and if you make yourself valuable to him, he won't. That's the scenario if we fail and you play him for a ride out of Dodge, sister. Figure out his motivations, figure out how to make them work to your advantage. Tonight you ought to mellow him out by referring to his successes with your change into an assassin, something like that. You play it by earho- um, ear." He sized her up and noted the worry wrinkles around her deepset eyes. "You can do this."
She took a measured breath. "If you say so." She glanced at Hugo, who nodded. "Afterwards, there's no need for you and your herd to waddle back to your habitat for rest. Stay here and be fresh to go when your beta says."
"I'll take you up on that. We brought what we needed with us." Skipper demonstrated combat poses that he favored. "And Rico will supply the rest." Rico pointed to his belly.
"Amazing."
Skipper puffed out his chest with pride and then deflated with a wince. "Anyway, we got calidad excelente intel and the point is not to make him suspect anything is going on. If he doesn't mention that the artic picks up you two tomorrow, then he's blowing off your whole deal and you'll have that to add to your file on him."
Kowalski broke in. "That option would imply he's figured out a way to assassinate his assassin and steal her body so no lab could dissect it for DNA study. Hugo's death could be arranged as seeming to succumb to old age. Fascinating." At Sasquatch's unsettled look, he added, "In a scientific way. No one here wants --- "
"Ahem. We'd still accomplish our mission against him and free you two before that could happen unless he throws a real spider monkey wrench into our plans by doing that in the next few hours. Catastrophes are part of life, you think about them and then step out in faith, as Ole might say." Skipper looked up as if for inspiration. "Let's say that he is pretending to be fair with you for a while, what does he think of Hugo riding along?"
"Blowhole said it was all right, but Hugo doesn't want to go now." Sasquatch stated this disappointment calmly enough. Skipper admired that in an animal.
Hugo looked embarrassed. "I got cold feet. You all don't know how it is to be old and weak --- "
Skipper already had moved on to specifics. "What if they toss you into the artic with her?"
"I'll pitch a tantrum and the humans will think it's because I'm senile. I can act like I'll probably be someday."
That dispirited statement seemed to clinch the subject until Sasquatch burst out of her calm. "Where did your courage go? I thought you wanted freedom and this is your chance --- "
"Ayam, let it be --- "
"I tried, I really tried to help a friend and what did it get me? Alone with my enemy and forced to keep up an act that is torture --- "
No way was Skipper allowing the mission to disintegrate because of a squabble. "Hugo, you have the right to refuse. Sasquatch, deal. We're your herd for the time being and you'll only be alone with that nutjob for maybe minutes before we blow something up --- "
Rico made a happy sound.
Arcturus sliced the dark skies like a shuriken as Kowalski pointed to it from the north doorway. "The safety window is closing. He'll call soon."
"I've got to know that you're able to handle this. Can you?" Skipper drilled her with the look reserved for troops too shaken to follow orders. It had always worked before.
In the end, it took Rico to lend her part of his nonchalance. "Ah-kwatch, keepcalmncarryon. 'Kippaaaahnusonyrside."
"Yeah. What he said," Skipper added. Sasquatch's lips trembled as she nodded. She moved to the window to gather strength from an absent moon that shone inside her. When the carrier dot flared, his team had already chucked Skipper onto the rafter with Kowalski steadying him this time. The others waited behind the manger.
"What's cooking, boss?" She started the conversation with a question and Kowalski frowned. Dr. Phil said questions are like attacks. He breathed easier at Blowhole's reply and felt Skipper relax against him.
"Kebabs of dull with bland sprinkles. How's it going with you?"
"I'm meditating on your place in my life instead of hitting the sauce. You know" --- she looked upwards at Skipper who drew his flipper across his throat and then her gaze lost focus realistically as if she were thinking hard to form a clear statement --- "you're a genius making me into your assassin the way you did."
"So I'm told."
Skipper couldn't fault her for using Routine Three: Be Polite If It Kills You. He waited to see if Blowhole's withdrawn mood changed. "Who told you besides me that you're a genius?"
"Sis did even before I got my degree and then Dave and recently the Mole Men. The term lost its charm after Skipper's ghost appeared to me." Atop the rafter, Skipper's jaw dropped. Kowalski threw a flipper around him as he leaned forward.
"Er, why aren't you flying high because of that? Enlighten me, boss."
"No more worlds to conquer, one less bell to answer, one less bird to pick up after, I don't know who my mind is going to play against now that he's in the Good Place. I can hardly reach him there even after I kick the chumbucket. I'm thinking ahead to my next earthly scheme, what can I tell you? It's the curse of genius."
"I thought you'd be happy as a calf in clover tonight." She seemed to search for words of cheer. "I know, how about a good rondelay? Row row row your --- "
"Don't. Life is not a dream." His voice got harder. "You and what's-his-name get ready because tomorrow morning the artic picks you up. Actually it's more like dead of night pickup, but be on the lookout for me. I'll be the one with the spike strip six miles out." Sasquatch allowed herself to jump for joy, but before she could arrange properly elated features on her face, he signed off with a terse, "Blowhole over."
"Catch me." Skipper sailed down without looking who would catch him. "Sparta's expected ending, I don't understand that at all."
Private let go of his leader. "Skippa, he's feelin' the pain of loss. Mind you, it's not wot we think of as loss but it is a change for him and maybe he never thought to have it happen? Maybe he's got nothin' inside of him to help him carry on?" Private looked down. "That's wot he sounded like to me. Maybe I'm wrong."
"Yrrite."
"I think so too, Rico. It seems Blowhole is only brain and no brawn of the intestinal fortitude kind." Kowalski looked smug in the knowledge that he had both.
Skipper tapped his forehead. "Hmmm. Okay okay, that's a good thing for the mission. He's depressed because I died and he can be taken offguard easier did you ever hear the guff coming out of your beak at crucial times it's impossible he is in mourning --- "
"It's possible," Hugo contributed. "Depression dulls the senses. He'll be the lesser dolphin for his weakness." He yawned. "I'm ready for this day to end. Good luck, penguins." He curled around his space heater. "Selamat tidur, ayam."
Sasquatch tightened her lips and didn't answer. After a moment, sonorous snores similar to Rockgut's filled the stable. She jerked a thumb in her friend's direction. "He's right about that, anyway. Time to rest. Make yourselves to home."
Skipper and his crew formed a puppy pile of penguins as Sasquatch squatted before the heater to rub her hands. The carrier dot plus the heater's coils illuminating Sasquatch's brooding outline were the last things that Skipper saw before he closed his eyes. As he drifted away to slumber on Private's chest, he reflected that this would be the closest she had been to bedding down with a companionable herd in a long time. It ought to make her more content with her friend's change of heart. When Kowalski roused them, she had stretched out by the north doorway and bid them a sober farewell from her prone position. Hugo didn't awaken.
IOIOIOIOIO
"Wait for it. Waaaiiiit for it --- " The driver's door to the milk truck opened and a man in a tidy cream uniform descended. As he made his way to the back of the milk truck, the penguin commandos sidled around the billboard post to keep out of his sight. The man whistled a merry tune as he gathered milk crates and stacked them on a handcart, performed a kick-out on his load and trundled it into the café after punching a security code on its back door.
"Now!" Private vaulted on top of the milk truck. There was a sleek aerodynamic feel to the truck that Scandinavian engineers must have been proud of and the roof's edges were rounded for a spoiler. Private braced himself for the burden as Skipper hurtled towards him. The commander's hug upon arrival steadied them both as the two of them pressed themselves onto the slick surface, Skipper supine and Private prone. When Kowalski and Rico appeared as if by magic onto the roof, the three did better anchoring Skipper by each flipper and both feet than they did with themselves. The moonless night witnessed a series of high-ones of epic proportions before the driver clanked his way back with the empties, slammed the back door shut and hustled into the driver's seat. The truck with its stowaways took off.
"Time?" Skipper asked over the surprisingly quiet truck noise.
"Will you listen to that! This is a hybrid I think no rumble it's a honey organic milk truck for a greener Åland win with Volvo --- "
"Kowalski! Can the geek and open the speak! I said what time is it!"
Kowalski craned his neck to seek the stars. "Five oh one and forty-three seconds."
"Number of delivery stops?"
The truck bumped over a pothole left over from winter's wear on roads. It was too early in the season yet to be repaired by vigilant civil servants. Kowalski pressed harder on Skipper's left flipper as all four penguins slid a bit.
"Unknown, sir. Mariehamn's population is 11,521 and we may assume corresponding amounts of public buildings since it is the capital of the island and also numerous touristy cafés and such along with private homes." He paused. "As you said, hippie Viking solstice worshippers love their organics."
Skipper had had days of delay to fine tune his battle plan. "Keep track of the landmarks in the city as we pass. We want to return near the zoo and not ride all the way back to the milk distribution plant. The rest of you help, too, because Kowalski also needs to estimate six miles' passage. Damn, there aren't many tall buildings for me to scope out from flat on my back to assist." He looked to the left and right and down his body. Just past the hump of his spare tire waved Rico's topknot in the breeze as he secured his leader's feet. "I'm drowning in a rookery of penguins."
"Aye, sir. We wouldn't have it any other way."
"In the name of Balaclava's cavalry, can we be off at last? Hooha!"
IOIOIOIOIO
TBC
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