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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/?
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- 74
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- 76
"Ei! Ariranha! Ei!"
Marlene peered out of her carrier. She gripped the bars in the door to steady herself because Alice was as lackadaisical in driving as she was in preventing pregnancy, it seemed. The zoo cart bumped over the courtyard bricks in front of the zoo nursery and careened past the spider monkey cage. All the troupe shrieked at the ruckus and it was difficult to make out what they said.
"Hey back at you!" she shouted. "What did you call me because I'm pretty sure I'm not one of those. I'm an otter." She thought hard to come up with her species in Spanish, which sounded fairly close to Portuguese although she was fuzzy about Brazilian Portuguese. "Soy nutria!"
"Ei! Ariranha!"
Whatever. Marlene was tired from travel. She poked her muzzle close to the bars and shouted. "I said I'm an ott- "
"Esquiper! Pinguinzinho!"
Skipper sounded the same in Portuguese or Spanish, or thereabouts. "What about him?"
"Esqui- "
"Blaaaatt! Blaaaaaat! Bllatbllaaaatblat!"
Alice leaned on her horn before shouting "Shut up!" as the cart rounded the cage. Marlene squeezed out just the tip of her nose through the bars and sniffed smells all in the same note, according to species.
"There's that smell from Alice again that nearly matches three of the spider monkey ladies. I guess it's because she's fragrant and they are, too," Marlene snickered to herself. Mom had had a gift for wordplay and used fragrant for pregnant. Coming into heat was getting your flowers and Marlene smiled at the memory of her mom's wink. Good old Mom and Dad, playful for humans and their fellows in the aquarium alike.
She thought to give Alice a break, given her condition. She refrained from squirming, nibbling or meeping as Alice released her back into her habitat. Did Alice ever realize how lucky she was to work with animals? Honestly, did the animals ever realize how lucky they were to live in a zoo, Alices or no? Marlene sprawled onto the wet grass under her plane tree, the greens of developing leaves and spots of blue peeping through the spring clouds giving her food for thought.
It felt good to be home. Washington National Zoo had been fun and the habitat she'd shared with Antonio provided the basis for a strong otter friendship. They had played, they had almost advanced to grooming each other and if the National Zoo had had its way, there would have been fireworks between the two. But no, she felt nothing except envy that Antonio enjoyed freedom as a feral otter in Central Park before his capture. They had called adios with no regrets as they parted.
Speaking of penguins, where were they today? Hunkered down in their lair, comfy-cozy in camaraderie times four. All was as it should be. Uh. That embarrassing incident with her losing her control wouldn't be mentioned ever again, right? Skipper owned a gentlemanly code, Mollusk bless him. She stretched and yawned. Turn in early, girl?
No, her guitar called to her spirit. Still yawning, she decided on a musicale before turning out her lights.
Spring had sprung and who didn't share the delights of the season that awakened new life, new budding leaves and new ideas?
Not her.
She headed into the cool interior of her habitat.
IOIOIOIO
The ulcer threatened to disrupt the sleep of his off night from egg care. That would not do. As his men breathed heavily in slumber with the occasional snort and mumble, Skipper reached without looking for the first thing in their bar. The trim bottle held Angostura bitters, which he put back and then decided on a faithful companion from Denmark, Gammel Dansk. Hans had never been as soothing as Gammel Dansk.
He tiptoed to his bunk and settled in for a stomach calming, sleep inducing little snort. Or two. After licking the stopper, he swigged half a thimbleful and summoned his soul. Oh, really, Soul? Revisit the disastrous Guatemala assignment with a 'tween Private, two veterans Manfredi and Johnson and a still wet behind the earholes Skipper? So be it.
The dear departed swam before his mind's eye. Reliable team members toasted him before giving way to the dainty attractions of a mute ballerina spy who had captured Rico's heart and vice versa.
Xochi.
Xochi was a pretty little ballerina, and yes, pretty and little were the correct terms because she and rough-hewn Rico made an odd fit. He could see the attraction for Rico although she was a little too thin for his own taste and her prettiness loomed large on the ethereal side. She might have cock blocked him because of these qualities and this was just one of the things he thought about at 5:55 a.m. every morning of their Guatemala assignment. Of course, it all went Tango Uniform in six days, but before it crashed and burned, he lazed about in the five minutes prior to reveille for those six days and wondered about life.
How, exactly, did a delicate and petite penguin such as Xochi and a penguin of Rico's stature - in point of fact, he had no clue how they did it. Both glowed with pure joy at finding each other; in some ways, it was sweeter than anything Private had ever said or done.
Skipper sighed. Too bad Xochi had to die. Life was unfair many times. Xochi died before he had gotten to know her well, Manfredi and Johnson died before he got to know much more than the Big Boss Skyped to him about the rambunctious pair when she had a spare moment - meh. Did he really know anybody?
The next shot of Gammel Dansk slid down easier than the first.
He peeked over the side of his solitary bunk, imagining Rico and Kowalski snuggled together directly below him, and maybe they'd switch egg care duty in the middle of the night, one lover to the other. Private above him, now, Private would be cuddling their egg as no egg had been cuddled in the history of penguindom. He couldn't think about that at the moment and sure, he'd take over egg duty as promised when Private got up but damn, the days until hatching seemed endless. Oh hey, wait, Manfredi and Johnson told tales of penguin rookeries of two eggs per couple and he ought to consult with the veteran globetrotters how they thought a couple nurtured them - nah. Some things were better left to speculation. The two of them blurred together in his recollection.
Manfredi's raspy voice popped into his thoughts. So you can't handle the truth, Skipper?
Sometimes I can't, Manfredi. You died before you got to know me well, too.
Johnson's cheery voice said just what Skipper thought it would. Kid, have another drink.
Don't mind if I do.
The next shot burned its way down his gullet quicker than the others. The booze comforted and it was unlike him to not fall asleep in profound relaxation right about now, but he didn't. He had to move it, move it.
Honed instincts softened his footsteps as he headed up the ladder while toting the bottle. He eased down the hatch. He didn't feel like being alone. Where to, Skipper? Leonard was wide awake. No, Leonard almost wet himself at anything penguin. What a pain in the pinfeathers he was to protect. A spider monkey shrieked and if he headed past their cage to spy through the nursery window at the little nippers for inspiration, then the whole troupe would squawk. Marlene?
He pondered no more than a minute. Yes, try her because what a neighbor and friend she had turned out to be. Good old Marlene, back from her good old goodwill trip. Good. Whoops, look out for the - too late.
Skipper picked himself up from his faceplant. Nearly dropped the Gammel Dansk, there, boyo! Slow down!
He giggled as he stopped at Marlene's plane tree to get rid of some fluid. Good grief, he was looped enough to need bracing himself against the smooth bark as he let fly. Gah, was she going to be surprised, ooooh better dip into her pool and gain entry through the drainage grate, yup yup yup. He swilled another bit of the excellent beverage, patted the bottle fondly, and then stoppered it. An ungainly backflip that was rather a plunge sobered him just a bit. Hmmm. She retired later than his team's 10 p.m. and it was, it was - eleven-thirty-ish. Yup yup yup.
He was going to impose on her, dammit. The blend of twenty-nine herbs, spices and mother braaping flowers had settled his stomach and he was ready for company.
IOIOIOIOIO
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Undertow