Heart and Soul (Penguins of Madagascar; Private/Skipper; PG)
Title: "Heart and Soul"
Dedicated To: With infinite love to my wonderous, magical, and always inspirational beloved husband, Jack, with whom I'm blessed to be celebrating our seventh anniversary! And, as always, to our darling children, too!
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Warnings: Slash
Word Count: 1,449
Date Written: 21 August, 2012
Series: The third of Pirate Turner's Halloween stories for 2012
Disclaimer: Private, Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, the Penguins of Madagascar, and all other recognizable characters mentioned within are © & TM DreamWorks, not the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Skipper, what are you doing?" Private asks curiously, never guessing the answer that he is about to receive.
Skipper barely glances up at him. His beloved commander's reply is uncharacteristically brusque for Private's done nothing he knows of, this time, to incite his anger. "What's it look like, Private? I'm lighting candles. Now go trick or treat or something." His flippers wave him away.
Private frowns, but Skipper doesn't even bother to notice the hurt look upon his cute and feathered face. "I just got back from trick or treating. There wasn't as much as candy this year as there usually is."
"Tell Kowalski to give you some money to go buy more. Tell him I said so." Skipper still hasn't looked up.
"Why are you lighting candles?" Private asks, far more interested in his love's determination to fill their meeting room with lit, black candles and his grumpy mood that he senses is meant to hide a sorrow. "And why are they all black?"
Skipper sighs. His flippers slide behind him to twist around the candle he still holds. "You really want to know?" he asks, finally looking up into Private's eyes.
Private smiles reassuringly at him, but the brightness of his grin seems out of place in the dark room. "Of course," he answers earnestly and keeps his smile in place out of hope that Skipper will know he truly cares and wants to share his burden. Though he confessed his love for him long ago, Skipper still refuses to let him into his thoughts when he's like he is now or to share any of his sorrows. Private wants to share them, because he believes he can ease those burdens and, of course, wants his love to be happy.
"Each candle in this room," Skipper announces, waving his flippers to indicate the twenty or so candles he's already lit, "represents a brave and good soldier I've known who's been lost to us in battle."
"Oh." Private's face immediately falls. What else can he say? he wonders, looking at all the candles. He'd never known Skipper carried so much pain with him, but he knows from the sheer number of the soldiers he's lost, that that's why his love is so often grumpy and so burdened down. But what can he say? he wonders, his eyes growing large and watery. What can he say to make it right when so many souls have been lost? How can he ever erase the pain that his love feels or fill the void left in Skipper's life by losing so many friends?
"So go play or something, Private," Skipper finally commands when Private's been quiet too long. Tucking his head in shame, Private leaves him to his ceremony. He sits for hours while Skipper hides in that room so full of candles, memories, loss, and death. He barely notices when Rico and Kowalski come in and go to their bunks, but he does notice the pumpkin Rico leaves behind, the solitary pumpkin he didn't explode tonight.
He has no idea how long he's sat there when he finally gets up and walks over to the pumpkin. He picks it up, runs his flippers over it, and stares at where it should have had a face for an even longer amount of time. No one's cut this pumpkin. No one's given it a smile or attempted to make it into a jack o'lantern. It, like his beloved Skipper, is missing the good elements of the holiday, the fun of candy and trick or treating.
Private sighs forlornly, and then, slowly, an idea starts to build in his young head. He races to the kitchen and finally gives the pumpkin a face. He comes back and sits it down before the door of the room in which Skipper is still hiding. He looks down at it and frowns. Something still isn't right.
Again, imagination and inspiration strike on this magical night meant for family, fun, and friends as well as remembering lost, loved ones. This time, Private goes to Rico, but he's sound asleep. He tries calling his name and shakes him so hard a lollipop falls out of his mouth, but Rico won't wake. Private grips the lollipop's stick and rises it from the floor. He looks thoughtfully at it and then at Rico's stomach from which it came. He drops the lollipop but continues to look at Rico.
Private's eyes travel slowly up Rico's body, from his stomach to his beak from whence a feather is currently fluttering in and out. It isn't one of Rico's black or white feathers. It's too long to be from him or any other penguin. Slowly, tenderly, gently, moving almost as though he's afraid Rico might bite him, which is, in truth, too likely a possibility when his friend is this deeply asleep, Private pulls the feather out of his mouth.
"Candle," he calls hopefully. "Candle. Candle! Candle! Rico, I need a candle!" He repeats the word a dozen times before pressing Rico's stomach and then squeals with delight as an actual candle does pop out of the vomiting penguin's mouth. Thrilled his plan is slowly starting to become a success and hopeful that its results will be as victorious as his call for the candle to Rico's subconscious, Private continues his plan.
It takes him only minutes to set up everything, but he still has to wait hours for Skipper to finally leave the war room. When Skipper at last edges out, he's so sleepy that he's almost tripping over his own flippers. He's swaying from side to side when Private, who had finally dozed off, hears the sound of his flippers hitting the cement and pops open his eyes. "Skipper!" he cries, jumping out of his chair and racing to his love.
Skipper shakes himself, both mentally and physically, and looks at Private. At first, there seems to be many more Privates than just the one, but at last, they blend together into the one penguin he loves far more than any other. "Skipper, look!" Private cries in glee and points at what he's made for him.
Skipper almost falls face forward as he looks down at the spot where Private points, but then his eyes open wide. "What's this?" he demands, the surprise snapping him back to alert.
"You lit those black candles to honor the dead," Private begins explaining. He waves his flippers to indicate the four white candles surrounding the pumpkin. "I lit these four to bless us and keep us all alive for many more years to come. This is for Rico." He points to a short, white candle whose melting wax is running raggedly. "This is for Kowalski." He indicates the tall one sitting almost regally in comparison next to the short candle.
"This is you." He points to the tallest candle of all. It's the one of only two to share a holder. "And this is me." Private smiles at his love. "Always beside you, always trying to make you brighter and happier." He blushes, realizing that there's no evident symbol of the last. "I used mine to light yours," he explains.
"And the pumpkin?" Skipper asks slowly, uncertain of how to take Private's display though he's slowly beginning to feel warmer and more alive than he has all night long.
"Oh," Private cries in dismay, "I turned it the wrong way!" He grabs it and spins it quickly around, and at last, all his work is made worthwhile as Skipper smiles. "This is us all happy together." Private shyly runs a flipper over the cement floor.
Skipper beams at Private; his smile is the happiest the younger penguin has seen him in far too long. His commander carefully steps around Rico's and Kowalski's candles, reaches out, gently grasps Private's shy flippers in his own, and pulls him close. "That is beautiful, Private! Thank you!"
He presses his beak to his, causing both of their hearts to pound in wild and gleeful ecstasy. Now, he knows he's alive! He's not one of the dead he's been celebrating for so many hours. He's very much alive, and happy, and he recognizes, in the wee hours of the morning and this newly dawning year, that his beloved Private keeps him that way!
He breaks their kiss just long enough to declare, "And next year, I promise you, I'm celebrating with the living! I'm celebrating with you!" Then, he kisses him again, only this time, he kisses him unlike he's ever done so before, pouring all the passion, love, and joy that his cherished Private has brought into his life, heart, and soul into that wonderful, heated, and delicious kiss!
The End
Dedicated To: With infinite love to my wonderous, magical, and always inspirational beloved husband, Jack, with whom I'm blessed to be celebrating our seventh anniversary! And, as always, to our darling children, too!
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Warnings: Slash
Word Count: 1,449
Date Written: 21 August, 2012
Series: The third of Pirate Turner's Halloween stories for 2012
Disclaimer: Private, Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, the Penguins of Madagascar, and all other recognizable characters mentioned within are © & TM DreamWorks, not the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Skipper, what are you doing?" Private asks curiously, never guessing the answer that he is about to receive.
Skipper barely glances up at him. His beloved commander's reply is uncharacteristically brusque for Private's done nothing he knows of, this time, to incite his anger. "What's it look like, Private? I'm lighting candles. Now go trick or treat or something." His flippers wave him away.
Private frowns, but Skipper doesn't even bother to notice the hurt look upon his cute and feathered face. "I just got back from trick or treating. There wasn't as much as candy this year as there usually is."
"Tell Kowalski to give you some money to go buy more. Tell him I said so." Skipper still hasn't looked up.
"Why are you lighting candles?" Private asks, far more interested in his love's determination to fill their meeting room with lit, black candles and his grumpy mood that he senses is meant to hide a sorrow. "And why are they all black?"
Skipper sighs. His flippers slide behind him to twist around the candle he still holds. "You really want to know?" he asks, finally looking up into Private's eyes.
Private smiles reassuringly at him, but the brightness of his grin seems out of place in the dark room. "Of course," he answers earnestly and keeps his smile in place out of hope that Skipper will know he truly cares and wants to share his burden. Though he confessed his love for him long ago, Skipper still refuses to let him into his thoughts when he's like he is now or to share any of his sorrows. Private wants to share them, because he believes he can ease those burdens and, of course, wants his love to be happy.
"Each candle in this room," Skipper announces, waving his flippers to indicate the twenty or so candles he's already lit, "represents a brave and good soldier I've known who's been lost to us in battle."
"Oh." Private's face immediately falls. What else can he say? he wonders, looking at all the candles. He'd never known Skipper carried so much pain with him, but he knows from the sheer number of the soldiers he's lost, that that's why his love is so often grumpy and so burdened down. But what can he say? he wonders, his eyes growing large and watery. What can he say to make it right when so many souls have been lost? How can he ever erase the pain that his love feels or fill the void left in Skipper's life by losing so many friends?
"So go play or something, Private," Skipper finally commands when Private's been quiet too long. Tucking his head in shame, Private leaves him to his ceremony. He sits for hours while Skipper hides in that room so full of candles, memories, loss, and death. He barely notices when Rico and Kowalski come in and go to their bunks, but he does notice the pumpkin Rico leaves behind, the solitary pumpkin he didn't explode tonight.
He has no idea how long he's sat there when he finally gets up and walks over to the pumpkin. He picks it up, runs his flippers over it, and stares at where it should have had a face for an even longer amount of time. No one's cut this pumpkin. No one's given it a smile or attempted to make it into a jack o'lantern. It, like his beloved Skipper, is missing the good elements of the holiday, the fun of candy and trick or treating.
Private sighs forlornly, and then, slowly, an idea starts to build in his young head. He races to the kitchen and finally gives the pumpkin a face. He comes back and sits it down before the door of the room in which Skipper is still hiding. He looks down at it and frowns. Something still isn't right.
Again, imagination and inspiration strike on this magical night meant for family, fun, and friends as well as remembering lost, loved ones. This time, Private goes to Rico, but he's sound asleep. He tries calling his name and shakes him so hard a lollipop falls out of his mouth, but Rico won't wake. Private grips the lollipop's stick and rises it from the floor. He looks thoughtfully at it and then at Rico's stomach from which it came. He drops the lollipop but continues to look at Rico.
Private's eyes travel slowly up Rico's body, from his stomach to his beak from whence a feather is currently fluttering in and out. It isn't one of Rico's black or white feathers. It's too long to be from him or any other penguin. Slowly, tenderly, gently, moving almost as though he's afraid Rico might bite him, which is, in truth, too likely a possibility when his friend is this deeply asleep, Private pulls the feather out of his mouth.
"Candle," he calls hopefully. "Candle. Candle! Candle! Rico, I need a candle!" He repeats the word a dozen times before pressing Rico's stomach and then squeals with delight as an actual candle does pop out of the vomiting penguin's mouth. Thrilled his plan is slowly starting to become a success and hopeful that its results will be as victorious as his call for the candle to Rico's subconscious, Private continues his plan.
It takes him only minutes to set up everything, but he still has to wait hours for Skipper to finally leave the war room. When Skipper at last edges out, he's so sleepy that he's almost tripping over his own flippers. He's swaying from side to side when Private, who had finally dozed off, hears the sound of his flippers hitting the cement and pops open his eyes. "Skipper!" he cries, jumping out of his chair and racing to his love.
Skipper shakes himself, both mentally and physically, and looks at Private. At first, there seems to be many more Privates than just the one, but at last, they blend together into the one penguin he loves far more than any other. "Skipper, look!" Private cries in glee and points at what he's made for him.
Skipper almost falls face forward as he looks down at the spot where Private points, but then his eyes open wide. "What's this?" he demands, the surprise snapping him back to alert.
"You lit those black candles to honor the dead," Private begins explaining. He waves his flippers to indicate the four white candles surrounding the pumpkin. "I lit these four to bless us and keep us all alive for many more years to come. This is for Rico." He points to a short, white candle whose melting wax is running raggedly. "This is for Kowalski." He indicates the tall one sitting almost regally in comparison next to the short candle.
"This is you." He points to the tallest candle of all. It's the one of only two to share a holder. "And this is me." Private smiles at his love. "Always beside you, always trying to make you brighter and happier." He blushes, realizing that there's no evident symbol of the last. "I used mine to light yours," he explains.
"And the pumpkin?" Skipper asks slowly, uncertain of how to take Private's display though he's slowly beginning to feel warmer and more alive than he has all night long.
"Oh," Private cries in dismay, "I turned it the wrong way!" He grabs it and spins it quickly around, and at last, all his work is made worthwhile as Skipper smiles. "This is us all happy together." Private shyly runs a flipper over the cement floor.
Skipper beams at Private; his smile is the happiest the younger penguin has seen him in far too long. His commander carefully steps around Rico's and Kowalski's candles, reaches out, gently grasps Private's shy flippers in his own, and pulls him close. "That is beautiful, Private! Thank you!"
He presses his beak to his, causing both of their hearts to pound in wild and gleeful ecstasy. Now, he knows he's alive! He's not one of the dead he's been celebrating for so many hours. He's very much alive, and happy, and he recognizes, in the wee hours of the morning and this newly dawning year, that his beloved Private keeps him that way!
He breaks their kiss just long enough to declare, "And next year, I promise you, I'm celebrating with the living! I'm celebrating with you!" Then, he kisses him again, only this time, he kisses him unlike he's ever done so before, pouring all the passion, love, and joy that his cherished Private has brought into his life, heart, and soul into that wonderful, heated, and delicious kiss!
The End