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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/?
- 58-58/?
- 59-59/?
- 60-60/?
- 61-61/?
- 62-62/?
- 63-63/?
- 64-64/?
- 65-65/?
- 66-66/?
- 67-67/?
- 68-68/?
- 69-69/?
- 70-70/?
- 71-71/?
- 72-72/?
- 73-73/?
- 74-74/?
- 75-75/?
- 76-76/?
- 77-77/?
- 78-78/?
- 79-79/?
- 80-80/?
- 81-81/?
- 82-82/?
- 83-83/?
- 84-84/?
- 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
- 112-112/112
- 65
- 66
- 67
"So Manfredi and Johnson died on this date." Kowalski stated the unstatable. "So braaping what."
Rico thinks I am so smart, well okay, thought Kowalski, I'll be smart where it counts the way that Dr. Phil would. Skipper needs a jolt. I'd better stand up to parry what comes next, though.
"So what? So what?" Rico and Skipper both zipped from near-catatonic to near-apopleptic states, but it was Skipper's unbelieving words that blistered the ether.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kowalski saw that Skipper bolted upright from his slump but Rico commanded his attention more. He turned to Rico to help him to his feet as his love choked on nervous spit that undoubtedly collected when his esteemed smart love befouled the memory of Skipper's favorites on the team. Rico spluttered and coughed as he waddled away from the blast zone after Kowalski pounded his back for him, brushed off tears, and whispered into his earhole, "Rico, my heart, batten down the hatches."
Kowalski put Rico out of his mind. Were these words coming from his own beak? "Yes. So what. Manfredi and Johnson are dead and Private is alive, we're all alive so snap out of it. Sir." Huh? Kowalski thought he'd need to dodge a punch but by the ginormous jolt of Red Bull Supreme that kept him awake in his lab at night, Skipper only glared. His voice could have chilled a six pack of Duff Beer.
"Say that again. I want to get the words just right for my log at your court-martial."
"Manfredi and Johnson died on today's date, and I say so what. Life is for the living. Manfredi and Johnson would say so, too. They would be ashamed to see you slap yourself when things go like they did today. They'd ship out from under your command."
"Why, you, you, you're - "
"Your second, yes, I am, and I am beta to your alpha, I guess. There's room in this world for love and, and respect for betas, too."
Kowalski stood tall as Rico edged back into the blast zone, likely to act as referee if things got physical or even stop the fight. The encouraging sight spurred him on after Skipper's next words.
"You're confusing respect with worship and maybe what you said isn't insubordination because you're not actually refusing an order. I'll think of other charges, mark my words. Mark 'em!"
It was easier to continue than Kowalski had feared because he spotted Rico getting closer to earholeshot. He hurried to say what might break through Skipper's outrage before Rico could hear him. "Remember right after Manfredi and Johnson bought it and you and I - "
"Shut up."
" - and that other time after you made me your second? Why would I lie to you now? I'm trying to protect you from yourself."
"Shut up."
It took Rico to bring down tempers as he waddled closer. "'Rivatebak. Lookskay." Alice had approached without commander or lieutenant noticing her, a grievous breach of security. Kowalski shoved away guilt and stood shoulder to shoulder to shoulder with his teammates as the zookeeper knelt with a grunt. She placed the zippered mesh bag outside the fence, looked surreptitiously around, and waved her hand in front of Private. When he didn't peck, she scooped her hand inside the bag and pulled him through to the outside. He said nothing, squawked nothing, and appeared to be in a basal state as his three teammates drank in the sight of him. Kowalski accepted a neutral demeanor as a positive sign despite it making absolutely no scientific sense.
"All right, princess, think you can make it to your island so I don't need to drag the gangplank all the way over? I'm having trouble getting around these days, aw, why am I explaining myself to a bird?"
She looked both ways again, grabbed the gangplank and angled it from the top of the habitat fence to submerge the other end a short ways into the water. Since Private made no move to escape, she gloated, "Good little birdie, nice little birdie, let me pick you up one-handed, just so. Great! Yeah, stay quiet after your invasive procedure for awhile like Doc said you ought to. Here ya go!"
One hand steadied the gangplank and the other lifted Private onto the wood. He plotzed and did and said nothing. "Scoot!" Alice said as she pushed him forward.
Private appeared confused. He looked at his teammates and still stayed mum.
"Geronimo!" Alice whooped and used the gangplank like that old flipping trick with a fork and spoon. She pushed sharply down on the wood and Private's bottom bounced off it to splash him into the water. Alice chortled and departed, dragging the gangplank behind her as she headed for the zoo storage building.
Kowalski would always remember how his skipper left arguments behind and as a rule held no grudges.
Skipper would always remember how Private swam sluggishly with a stunned expression.
Rico would always remember how he dove underneath his three teammates to spout a plastic pool toy shaped like Nessie to buoy them up until he towed them to their faux floe.
Private would always remember that he couldn't remember much of what happened next.
IOIOIO
"He's napping. It's for the best."
Skipper wrung his flippers. "Did you catch the look on his face? What could Doc have done?"
"It's bound to have been uncomfortable to him, but I assume Doc paid strict attention to the problem area and did a certain procedure that, er, I wouldn't want to attempt. Do you order me to give details about it?"
"If it's anything like what Marlene told me about, then no. I guess it's like you said." By the way that Kowalski resumed their normal relations, Skipper knew he'd been forgiven for his earlier attitude. Damn, this year's anniversary of Manfredi's and Johnson's deaths hit hard. He forged ahead. "So what about the intel from Mason and Phil? Rico, come over here. You ought to hear this, too."
Rico had been standing vigil by Private's bunk. He shook his head. Kowalski added his two cents. "It's okay, he'll rest for awhile and be all right. You need to hear what I found out about Chango."
This table held so many conferences, Skipper thought, that he ought to requisition more comfortable seats than cement blocks. "Carry on, mi segundo."
Kowalski harrumphed and put on his professorial look that Skipper supposed Doris had found attractive. He only knew he needed Kowalski's smarts as he leaned forward attentively.
"In human form, Chango was a king and as an oricha, he displays qualities that we associate with kings - "
Rico broke in. "CarlGustaff!" He looked proud of remembering the name from their time on Åland.
" - right, Rico, the king of Sweden for whom we performed. Yes, he looked proud, fierce, and brave in his uniform, did he not? Chango's reputation resembles Carl Gustaf's because Chango is or was a magnificent warrior, intelligent, hardworking, and above all, he likes to be acknowledged as the leader so he doesn't have to take orders from anyone."
Skipper felt two pairs of eyes settle on him. "What? What is it?"
"Um, you have a little smudge right there, sir. Here, I'll get it." Kowalski brushed off something visible only to his keen scientific eyes and Rico's beak twitched before he settled down to Skipper's liking.
"So Chango sounds perfect. I can dig him, right?"
Kowalski playacted being Dr. Phil. "Welll, yes, because we imperfect souls can understand his flaws, too. He can seduce with his charm, he's a fast talker, and can manipulate. When his ego gets out of control, he's arrogant and domineering."
Rico glanced at Private, who stirred in his sleep. "'Rivatekay?"
"He's okay. But back to Chango, as long as his human followers obey his wishes, he's a good father, so to speak."
"Well, yeah," said Skipper. "I think I understand Chango. He's under lots of pressure to be what everybody looks up to him for as the big cheese in Santeria. He's got to lead his followers - "
" - but, sir, he treats them as his children because if they don't live up to his standards, he is critical and quick to punish."
"Huh. Children. Not my jurisdiction. Go on."
"Yes, and his followers are like their father, energetic, strong-willed, extraordinarily intelligent - "
Skipper's tone was amused. "Sound like anybody we know, Rico?"
" - but they have flaws, as well." Kowalski's chest deflated from its prideful swell. "They often have stormy tempers. They can be self-absorbed."
Rico looked abashed until Kowalski's next bit of briefing. "Chango's children or followers, whatever, like to have a good time, go to parties, flirt, dance. They're very charismatic."
"Rico, stop swishing those hips, we all know you can dance so sit down." Skipper got the briefing back on track. "Your equation, Science Boy? It looks like gobbletygook to me."
Kowalski stayed calm. "Skipper, Chango is here - " Skipper thought Kowalski did a bang up job on drawing the stick figure human hurling a lightning bolt - "and Private is here." Skipper forced himself to look at a lightning bolt striking his beloved. Private's endearing round shape showed eyes bugged out and legs asprawl as he collapsed to the ground. Howe Caverns was represented by jagged teeth slicing down from the top border of the clipboard. Skipper shivered.
Rico drew him near. "'Rivatebekay."
"Mmmm." Skipper leaned forward out of the embrace with a short nod and Rico subsided into drumming his flippers on the table until another and sharper look made him stop.
An uneven equal sign led to Private showing a strained expression as he cradled his gut. "Yeah, this looks like him these past few days, poor kid."
"He's fixed up now, sir." Kowalski shook his head. "Frances Alberta planned to sacrifice you both to Chango. It's chilling to consider."
"Yes. We thwarted her, though, with help from the King of the Mole Men. I can't figure out his place in all this. His mecha was sure awesome, though."
"Why do the bad guys get all the good stuff?" burst from Kowalski. "Blowhole and his Nikola One lorry, Hans and his weapons - "
"I can't say Moley was bad, I can't say he was good. All I know is that Frances Alberta squalled about Chango sitting on her head, there was a ray that zinged from the mecha to who knows how many needley stalactites, it hit Private but didn't knock him down or anything, but it seems to have stopped him up." Skipper curled his fists into fists of fury. "Damn her."
Kowalski sounded thoughtful. "A strangely unimportant revenge indeed when her original aim was to murder you."
"Me?" Skipper glanced at Private, who moaned the way he did in bad dreams. "Why me when she hit him with her ray of, um, stop-up-edness?"
"Face facts, sir. We all fought her biomechanical android doubles of ourselves in Hoboken Zoo, but you were the only one to face her down in person."
Skipper laughed shortly. "I smacked the bitch to the braaping ground. I got her fired. I - oh, I see what you mean."
Kowalski looked like he wanted to think things over in that thorough way he had because he licked his pencil and doodled on his clipboard, silly little swirls punctuated with squares and triangles. "Thanks, Kowalski, for the occasional good job." Skipper grinned and gave the lieutenant's shoulder hitsies. "There. In lieu of the Big Boss promoting you officially, I unofficially grant a field promotion to Lieutenant First Class."
"YayKwoskii!" Rico saluted in the most exaggerated form possible. Kowalski mumbled thanks to his left and right before continuing to doodle.
Private pat-patted up to them. "H'lo, gents. Wot's for dinner?"
IOIOIOIOIO
Kowalski briefed Private on his hypothesis and when he'd finished, Private nibbled at the stack of smelt that Skipper shoved in front of him. "Rico wanted to make sushi, but even I know a simple dinner is good for post-um-er, that thing you had done. Eat hearty." Skipper plotzed beside his love and the day at last seemed normal. They munched and crunched their way through half a plate of smelts, sardines, and salmon.
"So, Private, no needles, right? Please tell me you got, er, topical treatment rather than needles. I need to hear that."
Private still seemed quieter than usual, although he answered with a shake of the head and Skipper relaxed into his meal after a whew.
"Doc put me onto the flowerscope - "
"You mean fluoroscope, Private."
"Um, yeah, that one and then he said I'm gravid. I dunno, gents, he seemed puzzled and happy at the same time. It was weird. Please pass the hot sauce, K'walski. Check the label first."
Skipper passed the hot sauce to Private instead of Kowalski, who stared a thousand yards into space. "That word is not in my vocabulary either, Private. What's it mean, Science Boy?"
''Now don't get excited, Kowalski." The stare telescoped out to two thousand yards. Weird. Was his second talking to himself because Mason and Phil fried his logic spark plugs or whatever the hell lurked inside that smart brain? Chango was outré, sure, but the team had faced down space squids, a sasquatch, and a snail out for revenge. They'd come through this with all guidons rippling in the breeze.
Skipper downed his smelt and licked his beak. "Huh. So the next time I order you to get gravid it'll mean don't make your voice go all high and squeaky? Good to know. Pass the salmon."
Kowalski's voice got all high and squeaky. "Private, did Doc mention any dates?"
"Well, there was a heapin' bowl of them on his desk but he didn't mention them in particular - "
"Months, weeks, or days, man!"
Private shrank back. "Monday, he said Monday! Ooooh wot is it? Am I really sick? He did a dodgy procedure with codliver oil that I don't want to talk about at the dinner table which, um, did the trick and now I feel fine!"
Skipper frowned. "Don't yell at the private, Kowalski." He grinned. "That's my job." Then the context of the conversation sank in and he took the next-to-last smelt from his beak to replace it on the plate. "Explain."
"Skipper and Private. Hear me. Gravid means pregnant."
Rico burst out laughing and a smoke bomb erupted from his gut. "Kwoskii! Gud wun!"
Skipper slapped him. At Rico's hurt look, he admonished, "Until we know what's going on, nix on any smoke bombs, stink bombs, gas bombs, or, or C-4. Now get rid of that pronto."
Rico popped the spewing bomb back down his gullet. He raced up the ladder and a whumpsshhhh from above sizzled the air of their lair. Kowalski kept shaking his head until he laughed, a nervous little twitter that Rico joined in with when he half-fell, half-rolled back down to rejoin them.
Kowalski rubbed the black smut off his partner's beak and chuckled. "You know, we're acting like this could actually happen. Ha ha. Hee hee."
"Ahuhahuhpeep peep mommy!"
Private burst into tears. "It's not f-f-funny!"
"Get a grip, soldier. We're not laughing at you, we're laughing with you, right, men?" But Skipper couldn't manage more than a sickly grin. "Kowalski, more options. This one is unacceptable." The lover came to the fore. "Stop upsetting the private."
Kowalski adopted his professorial look once more. He ticked off an option on his left flipper. "One, Private has a serious medical condition that Doc can't diagnose without exploratory surgery. His puzzled and happy look conveyed both his concern and his joy that he would be called upon to use his degree for more than the commonplace ailments of our zoo crew."
Private covered his beak and hyperventilated. Skipper braced him with a stern look before turning to Kowalski. "Go on, compadre, and I said something less upsetting."
"Two, Private is pregnant, which is not too shocking considering that he is in a steady physical relationship." Kowalski allowed the silence to deepen his resolve to air an SBD brain fart. "Options two point five and three inclusive - Rico, come here, please, and hold up your left flipper eh this is the trouble when you don't have fingers - three is that we returned to Central Park Zoo from Åland but it is an Alternate Universe Central Park Zoo due to our plane passing through the Kraken Triangle on the way home. In this Alternate Universe Central Park Zoo males and females can lay eggs." He looked apologetic. "That's three options, sir, but I would be remiss in my duty if I did not add a fourth."
"Continue. I'll let it slide."
"Rico, raise your other flipper, if you please. Thank you. Fourth option is that voodoo magic is real, Frances Alberta channeled Chango's power to transmute sexuality because what pleases Chango are the ladies, and Private took the hit for you and became inwardly female for a short time during which he became gravid. Oh, and we are in our own reality and not in an AU." He cleared his throat. "That is all."
"That is all? That's enough. Philadelphia's experiment, I feel like I'm in another dimension. Private and I are pregnant?" Skipper's voice squeaked like Kowalski's did in stressful times.
Private said nothing. His face said everything. Wonder beamed in every blink and Skipper could have sworn that little sparkles danced above his love's head. "Babe? Are you all right?"
When the words came, they were ethereally wispy so everyone had to lean in to catch them. "It's true, honey. I feel it in my gut."
Rico made a sprrttt noise. "Awwwwww. 'Rivatenutz."
Skipper faced down his love's detractor beak to beak. "If he says it's true, it's true. You of all penguins ought to know how guts work. They never lie."
Rico couldn't meet his commander's adamantine gaze as he backed off his beak before lowering it nearly to their all purpose table. "Sowwy, 'Kippaaaahhh. Sowwy, 'Rivate. Sowwy, Eggy."
Skipper had already moved on to meet the next challenge. He clasped his flippers behind his back and paced ten steps east and ten steps west several times. "Eggy will not do for a name. We already have one of those. We'll need to come up with options for names." He stopped at Eastward Step Number Twenty-Three to sway and then his knees buckled. "I'm going to be a father," he whispered before fainting in a heap.
IOIOIOIOIO
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