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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/?
- 9-9/?
- 10-10/?
- 11-11/?
- 12-12/?
- 13-13/?
- 14-14/?
- 15-15/?
- 16-16/?
- 17-17/?
- 18-18/?
- 19-19/?
- 20-20/?
- 21-21/?
- 22-22/?
- 23-23/?
- 24-24/?
- 25-25/?
- 26-26/?
- 27-27/?
- 28-28/?
- 29-29/?
- 30-30/?
- 31-31/?
- 32-32/?
- 33-33/?
- 34-34/?
- 35-35/?
- 36-36/?
- 37-37/?
- 38-38/?
- 39-39/?
- 40-40/?
- 41-41/?
- 42-42/?
- 43-43/?
- 44-44/?
- 45-45/?
- 46-46/?
- 47-47/?
- 48-48/?
- 49-49/?
- 50-50/?
- 51-51/?
- 52-52/?
- 53-53/?
- 54-54/?
- 55-55/?
- 56-56/?
- 57-57/?
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- 60-60/?
- 61-61/?
- 62-62/?
- 63-63/?
- 64-64/?
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- 73-73/?
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- 79-79/?
- 80-80/?
- 81-81/?
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- 85-85/?
- 86-86/?
- 87-87/?
- 88-88/?
- 89-89/?
- 90-90/?
- 91-91/?
- 92-92/?
- 93-93/?
- 94-94/?
- 95-95/?
- 96-96/?
- 97-97/?
- 98-97/?
- 99-99/?
- 100-100/?
- 101-101/?
- 102-102/?
- 103-103/?
- 104-104/?
- 105-105/?
- 106-106/?
- 107-107/?
- 108-108/?
- 109-109/?
- 110-110/112
- 111-111/112
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- 62
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"For you, milady."
Marlene goggled as Skipper took a knee and presented a pink pearl on his upturned flipper.
"Oh! Oh, it's lovely!" She slapped her paws to her cheeks and stared at it until Skipper pulled one paw down and pressed the pearl into it.
"Take it, honeygirl. I owe you and even if it's not your birthday, here's a souvenir from our trip to Howe. There. This makes you an honorary team member on an as-needed basis. Don't say I never gave you anything."
Marlene's smile grew soft and she had to blink hard and rub her eyes harder. "Skipper, you don't need to do this - "
"I know it. I want to thank you."
"For the dil-"
"Yes! Exactly! It w-worked and I'm grateful for me and for Private and for you."
Her brow rose. "For me?"
"Well, if it hadn't been for Private's confabbing with you about your me-time that inspired you to lend the thing to him, I'd be hoeing a tough row these days and I'm not a hoer." He looked down. "I'm not much of a rural person at all, Marlene."
Marlene had to agree. "I'm sure. My goodness, it's just perfectly pink and so girly! I'll put it next to my sketch of you to get me going again on the project. You up for modeling tonight?"
He shook his head. "Not tonight. Private's under the weather, nothing serious so get that look off your face, but I want to get back to him."
"Okay, you softy." She nuzzled his cheek. "Thanks again."
He nodded shortly and did that thing where he climbed her plane tree, leaped over her head on his way to the brick path outside her habitat and pat-patted away on orange penguin feet.
She turned the pearl this way and that in the moonlight. Since the shower ended after becoming a downpour at dusk despite Gil Force's prediction of "light precipitation on April 5th," the air felt crisply springlike. The greensward beckoned, so she plotzed to examine the small pearl closer. It had bumps and crannies on its cylindrical shape, which suited her taste better than a perfect sphere would have. She lay back under her plane tree whose emerging leaves dripped water erratically onto her face. She observed a fat drop directly above her head in foreshortened glory before it consumed her whole field of vision to splat! onto her brow. How good the world was, how fulfilling her friendship with Skipper was, and how her other friends such as Penny made her life better. The feeling was too solemn for sentimental tears, and she would never know how long she drifted in rhapsody because she fell asleep under her plane tree, still cradling the pearl.
At dawn, Skipper reappeared.
"Marlene, wakies."
"Mmmm, move over, Guillermo mi príncipe."
"Not Guillermo, it's Skipper and no way am I your prince."
The pearl rolled from her relaxed paw as she sat up and Skipper returned it to her. She murmured her gratitude and gestured him inside her cave. She placed the pearl next to the rough sketch and turned to see an unusually subdued bird.
"Bad night at the HQ?"
He scratched the back of his neck before sitting on her bed without asking permission. "Private is still under the weather and Kowalski says it's time to either drop him off at Doc's or get a second opinion. That's what I'm here for, your second opinion."
"M-Me? I'm not medically trained - "
Skipper studied her until she blushed under her fur. "Your dildo idea was estupendo, though, mi reina."
Wow, he had never nicknamed her his queen before, but she liked the sound of it and owed him her best efforts. "Wellll, that's sex, not exactly a medical issue, m'main bird. Come on now, if he's sick, then Doc is the best option. Kowalski thinks so, as you said, so why not?"
"Doc wants to cut off both Roy's horns, can you believe it?" Skipper blurted. "So now I don't trust him as much as I used to, not that he and I ever wanted to pick out curtains or anything, him and his damn needles."
"Roy's horns, pick out curtains - huh?"
Subdued gave way to agitated. "Doc might do something bad to Private! I can't allow that!"
"Calm down!"
"Marlene, has anybody ever in the history of our planet above or below its sea calmed down when somebody said calm down?"
One of them was going to have to be the adult in the cave and it looked like it was going to be her. "First, Doc won't hurt Private any more than he has to for an exam, and next, what's wrong with Private?"
"He can't poop."
"Ew." Marlene deliberately smoothed her curled lip to adopt an untroubled face. "So, a little prescription pill, change of diet, or shot - "
"Needles!"
"Yes, needles, get beyond it, Skipper. Another thing is more invasive but take it from me, it works." She hurried on after Skipper's questioning look, "Not that I've endured this procedure, but oil squirted up the wazoo works straightaway, I've heard tell."
Skipper regarded her paw squeezing his flipper. "I can't stand to see him cry."
"He's crying now? The sooner, the better to get him to Doc! Come on, I'll go with you guys to dump him on the infirmary steps and we'll wait out of sight until Doc or Shawna discovers him when they report for work in a few hours - "
"I might have hurt Private." The words were soft as bunny fur from Fluffer, Nutter, or William. "And no, he's not crying right this minute but he might. You don't know what happened last night."
"Tell me. We're all friends here."
Skipper did.
IOIOIOIOIO
After an unsettling start to their lovemaking session when Private looked like his minor indisposition led to a near faint, Skipper caught him mid-stumble on their way to bed. Rico and Kowalski had turned in early and the commander spoke softly. "Babe? Are you okay?"
"Woozy, Skippa. Half a mo." Private pressed his temples and took a deep breath. "I'm all right now."
Skipper examined his love under the night lighting. The tremulous smile reassured him and in ten minutes, he set out to making the bird with two backs with Private as effortlessly as if they had been doing it for years. Skipper almost lost it when Private switch hit to sixty-nining. Oh no, he wasn't going to trade impot- er, his former problem for shooting off too soon. He intended to return to making the bird with two backs in classic purist style and so he perfunctorily licked for three minutes before whispering, "Commencing Operation: Make Waves!"
Private remained quiet as Skipper princess carried him over to one of their multi-purpose table's cement block seats that was pressed into use as a trysting bench. "On K'walski's seat, it's lower," Private murmured then. "Better for your back."
"Aye aye, sir!" Skipper slid into home base faster than Penny could gallop. A quarter of an hour later, Private's head flopped at each thrust.
"Stay with me, Private! Stay - with - aw braap." Everything came to a screeching halt. Skipper hustled Private back to their bunk where he slapped his cheeks. "Aw." More words expressing his feelings came to mind, but the sitch didn't exactly call for Angry Words. Private had fainted for the second time since midnight and when he came to, Skipper sat on the edge of their bunk, both flippers folded demurely in his lap and a woebegone expression on his face.
"Sk-Skippa, I'm s-so-sorry." Private looked so miserable that Skipper felt sorrier for him than he did for himself.
"Let's take a breather for a week."
"Can I - " Private gestured to Skipper's front, where absolutely nothing was going on.
"No. Thank you."
"Wot'll we do if I never - "
Skipper took Private's flippers away from his face. "It will happen and it will be on your timetable. In the meantime, we cool it."
The commander observed that the private firmed his resolve. "No way!"
"Hush, Kowalski and Rico are sleeping!"
Private looked as determined as he ever had in Skipper's memory as he growled, "I want you. I want you now. Don't disappoint me, Skippa. I wouldn't disappoint you vicey versey."
"Hell's bells, is that an order?"
Private shuddered with distress. "It can't be. But it's as true as anythin' gets. I want you now."
"I shall do my best."
Two hours later, Skipper rolled off Private. "Not bad for a fuddy-duddy, eh?"
There was no reply.
"Private?"
The small body beside him that had awarded such pleasure after their simple ritual of exchanging pebbles lay still as a becalmed Aegean sea when Odysseus had angered Poseidon yet again.
No. This wasn't happening.
"Private! Wake up!" By all that was penguin, had he killed his love? Skipper rose to his knees in the Central Park Zoo's bunk that was more cramped than their Åland Zoo one and smacked his head so hard he saw the Ploughman but not the Bears. "Ow!"
Still nothing. "Private. Private, please." This couldn't be right, not after all the team had been through the past year. Defeating Blowhole had to mean something. Had that bastard done something to the young bird against all reason? Something diabolically delayed so that the effect would kick in when everyone thought they were safe? It would be so like the schemer.
No time for him to delay. He would have to wake Kowalski. Privacy no longer mattered.
"Kowalski!"
A husky giggle burst from the bunk above him. "Quiet, Rico! What is it, sir?"
"Stop whatever it is you're doing with Rico and get down here! Private's in trouble!" So he and Private had awakened their teammates and perhaps inspired them by the noises they made in the past two hours. Okay okay, so Rico and Kowalski's antics didn't hurt the team any more than his formal avowed devotion to his Private. The team could go on. All the same, he covered his earholes to block out the sound of slithery wet noises as Kowalski disengaged from Rico to land on the floor outside Skipper and Private's bunk entrance.
"Er, uh, knock knock?"
"We, we just finished h-having sex and Private isn't saying anything. I don't think he's breathing!"
"Get out of my way! Sir." Without apology, Kowalski yanked his commander away from Private's side and stood him upright since Skipper's knees threatened to buckle. How different this was from the expected brief pillow talk, Skipper thought, as he watched Kowalski press his head to Private's white chest while checking his pulse. The agony from ravaging Kastelholm injuries was no worse than the waiting until he saw Kowalski straighten up. "He's only unconscious."
Kowalski opened Private's eyelid. He leaned back so the dim night lighting could afford a better glance than even his penguin darkness vision that had evolved for blackest sea substrates. "And not for much longer. What did you do to him?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary! Sherman's minié balls, man, I'm no mallard. I don't rape." Now why was he feeling defensive with Kowalski? The question made him think and try to remember what had transpired through the haze of sex. Had he hurt him without meaning to in his enthusiasm? Private had been equally overjoyed to join with him, he countered to himself. The young penguin who was his delight in life could not have been happier to indulge in what he'd only fantasized about with Shawna or Cupid or even a willing Princess Self-Respectra.
"Then it's just a faint. He drifted away to Lunacorn Land or Imagic-Nation or wherever he goes in dreams. And" - Kowalski stroked his beak - "if I know Private and I do, he's going to pass out again from embarrassment willies to see all of us gawking at him when he awakens post-coitally."
"Ahuh." Skipper noticed that Rico had joined them on the floor. "Bad 'Kipppaaahh."
"I am not!" Then he caught Rico's sly grin and sometime later he'd return it, maybe on the second Tuesday of next week. "He'll circle the drain again at too much attention? Well, yeah. That's obvious. He's, he's, um, bashful." Skipper strove to regain control of the situation. "Whew. Thanks, Kowalski." He cleared his throat. "I was afraid," he admitted.
Kowalski patted Skipper's shoulder. "I wonder if Alice will notice anything different about us?"
"I hadn't thought of that. She's suspicious of whatever we do already." Skipper could not take his eyes off Private as he twitched and stirred on the way back to the real world of their nighttime lair. "Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof."
The remembered homily from Padre Alfonso in deepest Yucatan slipped out and he felt Kowalski's and Rico's questioning looks. The good padre's sermon from the steps of Chichen Itza was a treasured memory that he did not have to share with anyone. "And it's night, did you all notice? I know you did, so let's sack out. Drill first thing tomorrow." He led from the front as always and slid in beside Private after gently shoving him to the inside of their bed space. He supposed it was no use ordering Rico to shape a C-4 charge to blast out larger bunks and as Private's head lolled sweetly onto his shoulder, he didn't know if he wanted to anymore. When Rico wanted to do it due to his and Kowalski's larger body shapes, that was their affair.
"Good night again, team," he said. Private stirred beside him and he quieted him with a kiss. A sigh breathed warm against Skipper's earhole before Private submerged to the realm of dreams. Skipper joined him after absorbing the changes that this year had brought. It took a shorter time than he thought it would.
IOIOIOIOIO
Skipper concluded his story as he reached out to tip Marlene's muzzle shut with a snap! "Focus."
"Two hours? So that's why you look like you do. What a story, really, Skipper. Give me a minute to think about it." There were grim, unhappy vibes in her cave and Marlene wasn't having it. "Minute's up! So, my friend, in my humble opinion, Kowalski gets my vote as the options guy here. If he fails to fix Private's problem with one of his inventions or hypotenuses or whatever, then call on the Doc, but give it another day. It's only April 6th. I'm sure by April 7th that Private, your lover and my friend, will feel better."
"You're sure but I'm not. I have a bad feeling about this and I cancelled drill."
"Wow!"
"Yeah, a first, and it's a good thing I'm all rested up from our trip to face the shit homecoming."
"I, I can't predict the future" - she firmed her voice - "and neither can you. Simmer down."
But he had already evened himself out with that self-control he displayed with everything except soan papdi. "Our vacation was still fantastic, considering we nearly drowned" - Marlene gasped - "saw a zombie" - she clutched her throat - "and heard voodoo magic words spouted by a full-on crazy human lady." His eyes widened. "Um. Could the problem have begun underground? Voodoo words. Crazy human. Flashbang rubidium. Transformer mecha-thing."
Marlene clamped his beak shut before she hugged him. "And you still say it was fantastic?"
"I do." His voice was distant and she was positive his battle mind thrummed at ramming speed as he patted her back absently.
It may have been an inappropriate time to tease, but she did it anyway because things weren't life or death with Private, after all. "That sounds like a wedding vow, Skipper."
"That you and Guillermo never exchanged." He must have formed a plan of attack and his comeback couched in a challenging tone pinked her heart.
"Touché."
"Where it began was Howe and I'll know the reason why, and when I find out who is responsible, I'll take him or her to task in whatever degree I deem fit." He appeared marginally more like his confident self. Dangit, love was so nice and so rotten at the same time. To think a zombie threw a commander of commandos under the bus called Love.
As she watched him clamber over her habitat wall with no visible finesse, she recalled his parting words.
"Maybe I shouldn't have started anything with Private for his own sake."
IOIOIOIOIO
Kowalski put down his stethoscope. "A-OK on lungs and heart, Private. Any more symptoms other than what you and Skipper told me? Think hard."
Private looked dubious as he tapped his flippertips together. "Are you sure I check out, K'walski? Ought I to give another sample of wot I can still do?"
"Pasteur's petri dish, no. Sixteen was enough."
Skipper motioned Kowalski to one side as Private tapped and tapped and tapped. "After Frances Alberta zapped him, he seemed wound tight Friday afternoon and all of Saturday and Sunday, except for when we, um, uh, well you know and he relaxed afterwards, mostly. Except for now and then, oh hell the whole thing was unpredictable. On the way home Monday he swam like his old self, nothing different. He kept up with me in every way and you all have been with him and me since."
"Relaxation is the purpose of sex, sir, unless you count mundane babymaking."
"Duh. I mean, he got all dithery and testy, kind of like Ma sometimes."
"Tee Em Eye, Skipper, but I'll keep that confidential."
"Full disclosure is part of keeping this unit functioning at tip toppiest shape and I shall and will divulge when necessary. Take it as it comes or the Big Boss can reassign y- "
Kowalski stood firm in his own scientific domain. "I'd fight you on that. Oh, you'd win, but I'd fight you. Sir."
Skipper's eye twitched before he got it under control. Kowalski offered a pat on the shoulder that was not refused. The shoulder slumped despite the reassurance. "He's got to be all right. He's got to."
"For the team's sake, yes of course," Kowalski soothed.
"The team? Oh right. For the team." Skipper appeared to draw on reserves as he ordered, "Whatever intel you dig up, I want you to head to Phil and his magic, non-penguin fingers on the internet for research. It's a tool, like I said."
Science claimed that good methods produced good results, and Kowalski yearned to do good for his team. "Your strange encounter with Frances Alberta and her friend is a promising lead. So then, onward to the scientific method as we gather observations before experimenting and hypothesizing. Let's start with the strangest event on your vacation."
"I felt peaceful."
Kowalski's heart twinged. "I'm sure, sir." He cleared his throat and beckoned, "Let's move along to the next step in the scientific method. Private? A moment?"
Private waddled slowly towards them from where he was helping Rico polish his bazooka. "Wot's all this then?" His face looked devoid of either joy or gloom, stopped up in emotion as his body was in other functions.
Kowalski dug into his friends' memories, well aware that they might be flawed under stress of battle. "You both say Frances Alberta chanted in an unfamiliar language? Can you repeat the words?"
"It happened twice. Let's see, the first was" - Skipper thought hard as directed - "echu obá loná tosí gbogbo ona iré o aché."
Private perked up. "Skippa, that's amazin'! I didn't catch the first time at all."
Pushing past Private's unabashed hero worship, Kowalski sought Science once more. "So you can't corroborate what Skipper says, Private?"
"Sorry, I can't."
"Science needs two examples to compare and contrast as control and experiment, but not to worry, not to worry!" Kowalski chirped brightly. "I'll just throw the first example out! Don't panic!"
Private panicked. "Oooooh, K'walski, does this mean you're up a crick with no paddle, oh nooooo, oh my, ohhhhh - "
"Notnao, 'Rivate," Rico called from where he energetically buffed his bazooka.
"That's easy peasy for you to say, Rico, you're not the one havin' symptoms of wotever this is!"
Skipper stepped firmly into the squabble. "Private, this is what I heard her say next in whatever language that was." He smacked one flipper into the other. "Dammit, this is where we need Manfredi or Johnson. Those two swam global and acted local. They'd recognize the lingo."
Kowalski, Rico and Private rolled their eyes at yet another tribute to the irrepressible duo enshrined in death as Skipper's favorites on the team. Kowalski noticed Skipper catch himself. "Corroborate this, Science Boy: Chango oba yoko ono, oba ricochet oh."
The tactic worked and after a dirty look at Rico, Private wobbled, "Skippa, this is wot I think: Chango scooby doo récherché, inna crochet day oh."
Skipper's regard was warm tinged with exasperated or vice versa. "You and your knitting, yes, you would think of crochet. Kowalski, I'm all in with my chips. That's what Phil needs to work with. Get back to me ASAP."
"I'm on it, sir. You agree on the word chango, at least?"
Two lovers nodded as one. "We do."
Kowalski saluted and sped away.
IOIOIOIOIO
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