Disclaimer: I do not own Penguins of Madagascar of any of its related characters or themes.

AN: As always, slight OC-ness is to be expected in this fanfic!

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Rico-noscence

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"Oh six-hundred hours! Rise and shine, men!" Skipper announced, stirring his catfish-flavoured coffee lazily.

Private sat up blearily, "Already?" he rolled out of bed, landing right on top of Kowalski –who had also chosen that moment to get up, "Oh... sorry, Kowalski."

"That's alright, Private..." Kowalski groaned, rubbing his back.

"Your turn to whip up breakfast, Private," Skipper ordered, taking a sip of his coffee with a grin, "And don't forget the sardines... right, Rico?"

Nothing.

"Rico?" Skipper called again, surprised by the lack of response.

All three commandos somersaulted up to their teammate's bunk, "Are you alright, mate?" Private asked, trying to get a look at his friend.

Rico groaned burying his beak into his pillow, tossing his blanket over his head.

"What's wrong, soldier?" Skipper asked, throwing the blanket aside.

Rico squawked uncharacteristically, regurgitating a baseball bat to the side of his bed.

"I think he's sick..." Private suggested, watching the bat drop to the floor.

"Kowalski, analysis... " Skipper commanded, stepping aside to dodge Rico's cough.

Kowalski ripped out his stethoscope, thermometer and penlight. After a quick check-up, scrawling all his observations on his trusty notepad, he turned to Skipper. "I think we can safely say..."

A hocked up cherry-bomb hits the floor.

"He's sick." Kowalski concluded, flinging his gear to one side.

"Is he going to die?" Private yelled, looking like he's about to cry.

"Fish and Chips, man!" Skipped snapped, slapping his comrade behind the head, "No little bug will take out our man Rico here!"

Rico grinned shuffling out of his bunk bed, "Mrrrgghhh... blahrubra!" he mumbled, rubbing his beak before ripping a resounding sneeze. The sneeze itself sent a set of ignited dynamite out of his beak.

"Here you go, Rico," Private said comfortingly, handing his friend a packet of tissues.

Skipped snuffed out the several ignited wicks before turning back, "Alright, we need to take shifts in Rico-watching..." he said, gathering the several sticks of explosives and hanging them up in their secret storage.

"Rico... watching?" Private repeated, frowning.

"You want to be blown up by whatever is lurking in this soldier's gastric intestinal tract?" Skipper asked, patting Rico's stomach.

The sudden frown on Rico's face had all three remaining commando's grabbing an umbrella. "Take cover, men!" Skipped yelled.

The order came just in time to avoid being rained upon by two dozen fish.

"Alright... that was last night's dinner... " Skipper said with a groan. He shook his umbrella around for a few seconds to get rid of the fish stuck to the material, "...Private... "

"Aye, sir!" Private nodded after seeing his commander's hand motion. He flipped up to the cupboard and returned with a mop and bucket and started mopping up all the fish.

"Arablooopra!" Rico muttered, looking at Skipper with a set of puppy dog-eyes.

"That's alright, Rico... you just need some rest... and some breakfast..." Skipper said and patted his friend's head.

"Technically... food will not cure your-" Kowalski started, but Private sent him a glare.

Private pushed his friend back down and threw the blanket over his friend, "Skipper's right, Rico!" he smiled sweetly, "We'll take care of you!"

Rico looked hesitantly back at his commanding officer, only to receive the same smile.

"Sit tight, soldier, we'll get you back to your normal self in no time!" Skipper said. He turned to Private and Kowalski, motioning his flipper around in the air, "Alright, boys! We need water, medication, grub and Walking with Walruses, movie number two! Move out!"

That night... when all four of them were watching the horror film, Walking with Walruses, it looked like the worst was over... that is, until Private ended up throwing up right before the end of the movie. When Private finally emerged from the bathroom, Rico looked over to his friend with a sheepish smile, "Sahry..."

"It seems Rico's illness is contagious, Skipper!" Kowalski said non-chalantly, stuffing another flipper full of popcorn in his mouth. "We all are probably infected..."

The look on the Skipper's face was enough to make his team cringe, "Saddle up for some rack time, men. Looks like we won't be leaving our headquarters for the next few days," he said and motioned towards his bunk, "Might as well get a head start... Move out, boys!"

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