4 – All the Small Changes

Thanks for the reviews, I needed the laughs. BTW, it's not girl's night, this thing's happening at around noon, sorry for the confusion. Also, I'll try not making this thing entirely OC-centered. So, here's the next chapter, enjoy!

"Yo babe, this guy giving you trouble?" said a deep male voice.

Alexander slowly turned around and found himself centimeters away from a brown plumage. His gaze scaled the figure in front of him, passing its white neck ruff and gray skinned neck, finally reaching a yellow bill backed up by a pair of amber eyes.

"Gyps fulvus," mumbled the water monitor with his eyes widened to their limits. He slowly began backing away from the large gryphon vulture but tripped and fell on his behind. With some distance between him and the predator he could take in more of his appearance.

His entire plumage was a copper brown tone with the exception of his wing tips and tail, which were jet black. A collar of white ruff optically separated his bare gray neck from the rest of his body. It was supposed to be covered by fluff, but appeared shaven. Something was glimmering on the tip of his sharp yellow beak and if the reptile didn't know any better he'd say it was a screw. Around his right leg was a brown leather knife sheath with a black rubber handle sticking out of it.

"No it's okay, Vic, he just came for a visit," Iris said and walked forward to the side of the vulture. The raven only reached up to the base of his neck in height.

The lizard stood up and dusted himself off, he still carried an expression of pure shock as his eyes wandered over to Iris. "I see… I guess I should leave now," he said and silently walked away. The other females watched him leave and, in spite of everything that happened, couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy.

"O-kay," said Victor, "So, you wanna get out of here?"

The raven shrugged before replying half-heartedly, "Sure, why not."

The two birds turned around and the remaining quartet of girls cringed as the griffon vulture revealed the anatomic tattoo on the back of his neck. It was a picture of his spine running from his plumage to the base of the skull. The two flew off together, quickly disappearing once they got past the zoo walls.

"Iris sure knows how to pick 'em," commented Marlene.

"Like we did any better," replied the wildcat.

Skipper waited for the medic around the corner. The lead penguin had been listening in on the conversation this entire time. When the water monitor appeared he sat down right next to his leader and let out a loud sigh. There was a short pause before the reptile spoke, "It's really weird. I only hooked up with her because she wanted a relationship… but now I'm sad. Could it be that she grew on me over time?"

The captain gave himself a mental facepalm, 'Like one love struck genius on the team wasn't enough, now I have two,' he thought. "Hey, I have an idea, why don't we go and use completely unnecessary force on some hippies we find," he suggested with a wide smile.

"No, I don't feel like fighting right now. I just want to endure the punishment of grief my body is vesting upon me."

"Um… sure," Skipper rubbed his bottom beak, trying to come up with a different activity, "Then why don't we go and drown our sorrows in some alcohol. It's past noon," he said slyly and gave the lizard a nudge.

"I don't want to have your liver paying for my mistakes," he slowly got up and headed towards the reptile house. "I'll join you at training in the morning," he added without turning around.

"Hoover dam," muttered Skipper and sighed. This turned out to be one heck of a Sunday; the afternoon was already well on its way and so far he didn't get the relaxation he would've wanted. But at least now it was all, "Aww, monkfish!" he cursed as he remembered where he had left his shortest teammate.

The lead penguin jumped on his belly and slid right out the zoo. "He's probably alright, I mean, how hard is it to look after four little ducklings?" he tried to calm himself down, but knew it was all a lie, those balls of fluff were anything but innocent. The pond soon came into view and with it, a black and white figure surrounded by four smaller yellow ones.

Skipper stopped and walked the rest of the path. As he came closer to the group, he could hear Private's voice, "…and then that old meany, Dr. Blowhole, tried to knock Skippah out with a…"

The captain's eyes widened and he closed the distance between him and his subordinate. He grabbed the younger penguin's beak and closed it to prevent the leakage of any more confidential information. "Private, those stories are classified. What were you thinking telling them to today's ductile youth?"

He let go of Private's beak so the penguin could speak again, "I was just trying to keep them entertained. At least they sit and listen, before, they were all over the place," he replied. "So, um, how's mommy duck doing?" he asked with a bright smile.

"She's, well… she's gonna be okay, but she's not coming home tonight," Skipper answered, not really sure how to tell news of such importance to the four ducklings.

"But who'll watch over us?"

"And who's going to make us breakfast?"

"I can't fall asleep without a bedtime story."

"When is momma coming home, mistah Skippah?" asked Eggy with the biggest puppy-dog eyes the he had ever seen. Petty tricks like these wouldn't work on a commando like himself. Nonetheless, the problem was still present; there were four ducklings, without any supervision, all on their own, in the middle of Central park zoo. It was his duty to take care of them, even if that meant playing nanny.

He let out a groan in annoyance, "I guess there's no other way… you'll have to stay over at the zoo while your mother recovers."

The four younglings jumped up and cheered simultaneously. Skipper swallowed a lump in his throat fearing what the future might hold for them.

After eight hours of nonstop chicksitting (I think I can call it that), the team had finally managed to put their guests to bed. Rico built two bunk beds for the quartet in just one hour, while Kowalski childproofed his lab, by putting a padlock on the door. They all sacrificed their Sunday afternoon to help out mother duck and in the end, they had a newfound appreciation for a what their own parents did for them.

Skipper decided to at least go and pay Marlene a visit. He was looking forward to spending some quality time together today but didn't account for… well, this.

"It was horrible, Marlene," he complained sitting on the otter's bed, "They were like a pack of miniature robot roadrunners with batteries that just refused to die."

Marlene wrapped her forepaws around one of Skipper's flipper and nuzzled his neck, "It couldn't have been that hard for you because I know you'll make a great daddy one day."

"I'm sure we both will," he replied and gave her a peck on the cheek. He got up and stretched, releasing a bunch of cracking sounds, "I already sound like one," he joked and rubbed his sore shoulder.

"You know, there is this thing to relieve some pressure," suggested the otter.

Skipper's heart skipped a beat, but a quick mental slap cleansed his mind of any dirty thoughts, "Oh, um, right. Well, if you really want to do it, I'd appreciate it very much."

Marlene stood up while the penguin took her place on the bed, lying down on his stomach. He closed his eyes and prepared himself. "Actually, it's not a massage," she added.

Skipper's eyes shot open and he had to give himself a real mental beat down. 'Okay, everything's okay, I'm sure she doesn't mean…'

"You'll have to lie on your back for it."

'SCORE! *Slap* I mean, don't act to eager,' he slowly turned around, feeling his blood pressure rising, "Um, whenever you're ready, M-Marlene."

"Okay, but I have to warn you, I've never done this before," she told him shyly.

Utilizing every technique he ever learned, he managed to bring down his racing heart to a normal level. "Oh, so it's going to be your *gulp* first time," the last part came out squeakier than he'd wanted; Marlene nodded. "Okay… like I said… whenever you're ready," he reassured her once again.

"Thanks for trusting me. Now close your eyes, I don't want you making me nervous," she said with a playful smile. Skipper returned the gesture and did as told. He listened to her gentle paws as they created a barely audible sound when touching the cold stone floor. The sound was getting louder and louder and Skipper mentally pictured her current position in the cave.

There was a slight thud right next to him but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He knew Marlene was right there next to it so he just waited… and waited… and waited, until he got this really annoying itch on his stomach. He wanted to scratch it, but was stopped by Marlene, "Hey, don't move, this is hard enough as it is."

'What do you mean, hard, you haven't even started yet,' he thought. Growing impatient he decided to take a peak. He slowly opened an eye and saw what was really going on.

Marlene was sticking a needle into his abdomen, adding to the already existing forest; needle upon needle, stretching across the white part of his plumage. It was the stuff of nightmares for the captain.

Marlene synched her paws with her boyfriend's rising chest, when it suddenly just stopped. "Skipper?" she asked, slightly confused. There was no response, "Skipper!" she called once more and pressed a paw on his carotid artery; no pulse. "SKIPPER!" she called again and began giving chest compressions, "Come on, WAKE UP!"

With a loud gasp, Skipper rose from the dead and jumped out of bed, "Marlene, I had the worst dream. I," he stopped and slowly looked down. His pupils shrank and he stretched out his flipper. He focused his gaze straight ahead and stood completely still, "Marlene, I'm not moving until each and every one of these evil things is removed," he duly said.

"It's just acupuncture. Where I come from, it's been used for all sorts of treatments and…"

"…Marlene, I'm not moving…" he began repeating the exact sentence he said before. The otter just shook her head.

"Alright you, big baby, calm down and I'll get right to it," she said smiling.

So that's the end of this chapter. Hope you liked it and review!

Here's a philosophical question if anyone wants to give me their opinion on it: "Is amicicide possible?"
'Amicicide' is composed of the Latin words 'Amicus', which means friend, and 'Occidere', which means die. It is the murder of a friend, but the definition itself becomes the problem. If you kill a friend, was he really your friend when you committed the act? Doesn't that make it just another homicide? Also, i'm not referring to euthanasia here.