"You head of Penguin?" Rockgut scoffed, "never thought I'd see the day."
"Acting head of Penguin, and only till you feel ready to come back," Nigel clarified, "I'm retired remember."
"You know I'd actually thought you'd like that, your cups of tea and pretty princess talk." Rockgut defended. The two old friends were lunching together in the near empty cafeteria.
"See, it's a good enough front it even got to you at some level. In my spare time, it's strictly monster trucks." There was a pause as Nigel took a sip of his tea.
"Oh, I know what you're trying to do…" Rockgut laughed, recognising his friend's expression.
"You reinstated the team, claiming they hadn't gone rogue, but were on an 'extremely deep cover mission'…"
"That's completely different…"
"And Kitka…"
"She was always a valuable agent…"
"Rockgut…."
"I needed to find some way to keep her out of trouble!" The superior attempted to defend, "You know, away from Skipper? I'm posting her to Antarctica tomorrow."
"Excuses, my dear boy. Sheer nonsense."
"Alright, alright," Rockgut submitted, "But you're not getting a promotion."
"Hunting though documents doesn't count."
"Fine, you're the special agent in charge of the team's probation."
"You had that all planned out, didn't you?"
"You read me like a book, Nigel." Rockgut laughed, putting down his cutlery, "Well, I'm back to work in a week. I'll see what kind of a mess you've left the place in…"
"Sir, there's something I think you should see." Kitka walked towards the table, holding an envelope. Suddenly Rockgut's eyes widened with fear.
"Red… Red Squirrel…" He stuttered, staring at the Kitka's red hair.
"Rockgut?" Nigel questioned. The man blinked as if confused, then settled down with a slightly confused expression.
"Maybe you aren't quite ready to come back…?" Nigel began to question, but was quickly cut off.
"Nonsense, I'm perfectly fine." The man stood up, "Nice talking to you Nigel," He then nodded to the newer arrival, "Miss Kitka." And left. Nigel wasn't sure quite what to make of the incident.
However, the day's surprises were not over, as Nigel discovered the moment he opened the envelope.
"Are you sure this is correct?" Nigel asked, reading the first few lines, "He wants to be transferred out of the team?"
"I thought it was some kind of joke to, but the handwriting matches, and if you read a little further…" Nigel raised a hand motioning for her to be quiet.
"I don't blame him," Nigel said after a few minutes, "Actually I blame myself. I shouldn't have helped Skipper cover it all up."
"…They wouldn't send her to Hoboken…" Kowalski thought aloud in front of a map of all the maximum-security bases known to Penguin, incomprehensible scribbles drawn in black marker all over, "No, her brother would just break her out… No, not that one either…"
"You know I'd thought you'd made the first good decision in your entire love life." Skipper stated.
"But Skipper, it wasn't her fault. She was pressured, manipulated…"
"The only pressured and manipulated person I see is standing right in front of me." Skipper countered, before the scientist could go too sappy.
"You don't understand…"
"And they say love made me blind," Skipper rolled his eyes, grabbing the model glue and leaving the room, presumably to return the hunt for the pieces missing from the S.S. Fiskelukt, "Stop behaving like a pathetic Nancy cat, man up, and accept your decision, Kowalski, before you get yourself court martialled."
"You know the android was more sensitive than you are," Kowalski muttered thoughtlessly; however, when his eyes returned to the workspace before him, they rested on the titanium stabilisers, which as the android had predicted, had been the only parts to survive.
"And now you realise." Marlene commented.
"Would people please stop sneaking up on me and making sarcastic comments?" Kowalski countered half-heartedly.
"Stop standing with your back to the door," Marlene marched into the room, eyeing the stabilisers and the envelope addressed to Julian next to it.
"I was jealous." Kowalski stated simply.
"What? You wanted to build him first?"
"Pretty much." Kowalski partially lied.
"So why take it out on him? Why not Kuchikukhan?"
"Did you see Kuchikukhan anywhere?"
"Really? Think of a better one."
"Fine," Kowalski put the parts in the envelope, sealing it, "I assume, because Skipper read my high school diary, you have too…"
"That is not fair!"
"I've always been envious of Skipper. Who wouldn't? But I was always the smart one, the options guy. That was my shtick…"
"And the android was not only a leader and master combatant like Skipper, as strong as Rico…"
"And potentially a better options guy than me. What if Skipper decided it was better to have him on the team?"
"Then you don't know anything about Skipper. He'd feel more threatened if someone was better than him than you are. Good luck with finding Doris. Hopefully she'll realise she needs to pick a side after spending a little time in Seaville."
When Skipper saw the document hastily hidden beneath a pile of lunicorn merchandise, he knew exactly what it was. He'd sent in several similar requests a number of years ago trying to leave Penguin, However his had all been denied.
"Dear Private,
I must admit I am shocked by your decision to request a transfer to another team, with a preference to work on Project: Baboon with Darla, Carol, and Gillian; however, I understand your position. If at any point you chose to return to the team, I will be happy to entertain any request to do so.
In summary, the board has granted your request, and also the request to act as reform officer for one 'Barry' as he likes to be called these days, a potentially valuable agent.
Best of luck,
Agent Nigel"
Skipper looked to the page behind, which seemed to be a copy of a letter from Private.
"Dear Agent Nigel,
You asked for more information on my reasons for requesting a transfer, and may I state informally that I would like to be transferred to Project: Baboon. I request that my reasons be kept in the strictest confidence, as they are of a personal nature.
You may (or may not) have heard mention of a violent disagreement between my immediate superior and me. This of course was due entirely to manipulation on the part of the Red Squirrel. However, I learned prior to the incident, that Fossa had nothing to do with my mother's, Lola Henderson's, death. I know you are well aware of the rest so I will not continue. Before you tell me that I was the victim of manipulation, and may not have heard Skipper's confirmation clearly due to shock and blood loss, I have checked with several independent reliable sources.
Due to this, I feel I cannot remain on this team.
Yours sincerely,
Agent Timothy Douglas"
"Private?" Skipper entered the livingroom, holding the letter, "What's this?" Private looked up, though his expression automatically betrayed his alarm.
"Personal, Skippah." He replied, giving him that strange look he'd had whenever he looked at Skipper since he had returned.
"You asked for a transfer?" Skipper was obviously trying to hide the anger and betrayal that came with such a decision.
"Yes." Private replied, switching off the television. He could tell this was going to be a long conversation. Skipper looked at him, expecting more.
"Well… why?"
"Skippah…" Private's attention temporarily redirected to his hands which were fidgeting wildly, "I like to think I'm someone who can always forgive and forget, and I've tried, but ironically I have come to realise that you were correct in saying there are some things you simply can't."
"When I said that, I meant serious things…"
"Your precise context was your conflict with Hans," Private looked like he was going to cry which he would in a few minutes. Skipper however, looked completely confused, "I don't think there's much difference between our situations."
"Private, whatever you think I've done…"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Private interrupted, "You killed my mother and lied about it the whole time."
"What?! Private, who told you that?" Skipper protested. Private paused, looking at skipper slightly strangely.
"But… you admitted it," Private stuttered, "You said when we were fighting… before you…"
"I didn't," Skipper corrected firmly, "The switch had already been made. The android was just trying to incriminate me, and what better way than to have me admit my own guilt?"
"Oh…" Private smiled, though almost immediately another thought occurred to him, "But you were poisoned. The android was immune…"
"Who would you rather believe: people purposely feeding you false information to divide the team or your own commanding officer?" Skipper asked. Private considered this for a few seconds a somewhat comically confused expression on his face.
"My commanding officer, I guess?"
"Correct-a-mondo young private," Skipper smiled as sheer relief washed over Private's face.
"If you don't mind, Skippah, I'd like to call Uncle Nigel to tell him to cancel that request."
"Go right ahead Private. Marlene has your phone, I think your week of being grounded is up."
"Thanks, Skippah." Private called over his shoulder as he left the room to search for Marlene. Skipper continued to watch the door, long after the boy had left, with such intensity that he did not here Kowalski enter from the garage.
"You know he won't stay young and, more importantly, naïve, forever." Kowalski stated grimly. The scientist hadn't exactly been in favour of lying, but he had agreed not to correct Private, since it was really, the only way, "he's a smart kid. He'll work it out."
"I know," Skipper continued to watch the doorframe thoughtfully, "But by then he'll have probably seen enough to understand." Kowalski stared at Skipper a few seconds, with a concerned expression. Unnerved by the strange silence, Skipper's attention left the door, and moved to the scientist, whom for once he could not read.
"Then I hope that day never comes," Kowalski answered crisply, after some time, "at least I certainly hope fate doesn't twist him that much," Kowalski removed his hand from the table top he had been leaning against. Then, in answer to the question so obviously written on his face answered, "Because I don't understand." Skipper paused, looking slightly stunned by the remark. Then he relaxed slightly, adopting a kind of weary smile.
"If I start thinking of excuses now what's the probability I've got a half decent one when I need it?" Kowalski rolled his eyes at the crudity of the joke, though it had served its purpose in alleviating the tension.
"Just man up, skipper," Kowalski replied turning to return to the war zone that was the kitchen, "In your own words: stop behaving like a pathetic Nancy cat and get it over with."
"Touché, Kowalski."
"Hello Marlene," Private greeted, poking his head into the study, "Skippah says I can have my phone back now."
"You seem unusually cheery," Marlene commented, "Did you miss your phone that much?"
"No, not at all Marlene," Private corrected, accepting the device Marlene had taken down from the top of one of the filing cabinets, "If you must know, me and Skipper cleared up that disagreement."
"Disagreement? Major understatement considering the way you two went at each other."
"No, you see, that was the misunderstanding. Skipper wasn't really Skipper then." Private explained chirpily as he left the room.
"Yeah." Marlene she was glad to see a smile on the boy's face, despite the fact it was the result of an outright lie. They'd all been hurt by what had happened. Well, almost all of them. Skipper, after making a short address on the android's bravery seemed to have continued as if the whole thing was just another assignment. It didn't seem like denial, she could tell that a mile away, especially with Skipper, he honestly seemed to be the only one who's replies of 'I'm fine' were perfectly genuine.
Marlene eyed the photograph of Manfredi and Johnson (bearing no resemblance to the descriptions Skipper gave of the Manfredi and Johnsons he encountered), which surprisingly hadn't been removed from the desk. She wasn't sure if she was glad, or disturbed that Skipper seemed to feel absolutely nothing. It was good that he wasn't barely holding together as she was told was Rockgut's condition, but it did make her wonder what made someone like him tick. It made the frightening thought enter her head, as to how bad Denmark must have been to cause Skipper to attempt to erase the whole incident from his mind.
"Marlene?" Skipper poked his head into the room.
"Yeah."
"I promised I'd take you out to dinner, didn't I? It's our anniversary after all."
The End