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Barnacles never liked galas.

For all their beauty and grandeur, they always felt manufactured to him. Fake.

Especially the people, almost all of them putting on a show, only glimmers of their real selves peeking out every now and then – and the polar bear more often than not detested what those glimmers showed.

Especially here in Zootopia, still diverse in its own right yet stifling compared to the sheer variety of species DAWN prided itself on recruiting.

But Barnacles, optimist by nature, knew better than to paint everyone here with a bad brush. He knew there were honest, well-intentioned mammals among these gilded crowds, mammals who believed in causes like what the Octonauts and DAWN stood for.

For that reason, he kept up his pleasant smile and bore the droning conversations about the “struggles” of being rich and privileged and passive-aggressive remarks so many people made behind each other’s backs, the polar bear silently counting down the seconds until the main event, the very (and sole) reason he’s here in the first place.

Especially with his current company.

Because five minutes had been more than enough for the polar bear to conclude that he did not enjoy Milton Lynxley’s company at all.

Oh, the patriarch could smile and charm and wax poetic with the best of them, but Barnacles had enough experience (and tips from Dashi, who was also here tonight since she used to attend events like this with her family) to recognize a predator in hiding.

From the way Milton had greeted Barnacles with a handshake that lasted a second too long and squeezed a little too tight, to smiles that flashed slightly more teeth than necessary, to honeyed “compliments” about the Octonauts more akin to a poisoned dagger hidden behind the back.

Once again, Barnacles kept up his pleasant smile, facing Milton as he did any hungry animal: calm and steady with a trick or two of his own up his sleeve.

Though no fish biscuit in this case – he doubted Milton’s expensive palette would appreciate it.

“Really, though, how do you manage it?”

The polar bear blinked and shook his head to regain focus. Had he blanked out? “My apologies?”

Milton’s blue eyes, sharp as ice and just as cold, regarded the captain with thinly veiled amusement. “Such a hodgepodge crew of course. I mean, the young lady accompanying you tonight clearly hails from high standing. However, based on what I’ve heard about the others, I can’t imagine the difficulties you’ve had.”

And there it was, the topic Barnacles had both dreaded and hoped for.

He drummed his fingers against the glass of pink champagne he held, a subtle sign of his agitation, as he replied in a calm measured tone sculpted from years of etiquette training under Director Scratch.

“We’ve had our fair share of rough patches, yes, but my crew has come a long way since our inception. Quite frankly, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more capable group.”

Milton’s chuckle reminded Barnacles of that one villain from that one superhero movie Kwazii enjoyed so much: suave and polished yet hiding an undercurrent of arrogant amusement.

As though the bear had just told the most hilarious joke.

Milton put a hand to his chest, groomed face set in a perfect plaster of remorse.

“Forgive me Captain. I don’t mean to cast any doubt concerning the Octonauts’ capabilities. But you must admit, the sorts of animals you commandeer raise quite a few eyebrows. I mean, really. A penguin as your medic? How does the poor thing even manage to hold any bandages? Tie them around his flippers?”

That jab earned quite a few chuckles around the two men, a lightly spoken word of agreement as well.

Yet Barnacles kept smiling as his eyes kept Milton in sight, unfazed.

“As I said, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more capable group, one that never hesitates to help those in need.” He arched a brow. “Even the small-minded. I’m sure you know the type.”

If there was one thing Barnacles had learned from dealing with the rich and snooty, there were ways to kill a conversation among them.

And judging by the way some of the guests lost their smiles and fidgeted while others scowled and scoffed, he’d hit the jackpot.

Milton, to his credit, remained composed and in control with his facial expression, elegant. But Barnacles could see the storm brewing in the lynx’s eyes.

The Lynxley patriarch knew a backhanded comment when he heard it.

And on that note, Barnacles saw that as his cue to leave.

“Well, I must say this conversation was rather enlightening, Mr. Lynxley.” The polar bear made sure to bow his head and tip his hat so that the Octonauts symbol shone for all to see. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on my crewmate. Don’t want to keep her worried as to my whereabouts.”

Milton arched his lips in a smile that brought to mind an emperor struggling not to wage war on the spot.

“But of course. Wouldn’t want that, after all.”

And so, with the grace of a king, Barnacles turned on his heel and took his leave…only to pause after a few steps.

He turned his head enough to give Milton a side-eye, not even bothering to hide the smugness in his voice, navy blue irises twinkling. “Oh, and for the record, a snake taught him everything he knows.”

Affronted gasps went up all around, save for Milton whose tail whipped the air – a slight yet sharp motion – but Barnacles simply broke eye contact and continued walking away.

He’d made his point.

Unfortunately, the taste of victory could only last so long.

Already, Barnacles could feel the urge to let his broad shoulders sag, only resisting because Milton was likely still watching and would no doubt reap satisfaction from the bear displaying vulnerability in the open.

Because Barnacles hadn’t been lying about wanting to find Dashi.

He really, really needed the camaraderie of someone familiar right now.

Yet try as he might, the captain couldn’t spot the dachshund anywhere, eyes scanning every which way only to come up short.

Then they fell upon the nearest balcony, the gilded double doors framing the twinkling night sky.

Could she have gone outside? he mused. There’s only one way to find out.

With the same amount of purpose reserved for missions, Barnacles strode through the ballroom, eager for any excuse to be under the open sky again.

The moment he emerged out those double doors and into the refreshing chilly air, he closed his eyes and heaved out a sigh that felt as though he’d been holding it for millennia, finally letting his shoulders drop in untold relief.

God, he could not wait for this night to end.

So lost in the euphoria, he hadn’t realized he’d put himself in the path of someone else, someone so busy looking down at their own feet as they made their way back inside that they failed to notice him in turn.

Until they walked smack into the bear’s solid chest, eliciting a startled OOF from them both.

In seconds, all the champagne Barnacles had been toying with spilt in a brief glimmering wave before splattering all over the head of a young-looking lynx – much younger than Milton –  who gasped in shock at the sudden wetness now dominating his face, eyes pinched tight to keep the liquid from stinging his eyes.

Barnacles only spent one moment in numb shock, eyes wide and mouth agape, before hastily setting his drink down on the nearby table and scrambling for the neatly folded napkins there.

“I am HORRIBLY sorry! I shouldn’t have—”

The lynx held up a hand in haste. “No, no! This one’s on me. I’m the dummy that thought moving without looking was a good idea. But, uh, could you hand me those napkins please…wherever they are?”

Barnacles promptly did so, setting the napkins clean in the center of the lynx’s hand.

“Thanks.”

“Again, I am truly sorry,” Barnacles reiterated with hands clasped, guilty faced, as he watched the younger mammal dry himself off. “I shouldn’t have stood in the way like that.”

The lynx spared a few seconds to wipe his eyes before opening them to answer.

Only for those eyes to widen, amber irises twinkling, the moment they landed on the bear’s face and hat.

“You’re…you’re Captain Barnacles,” the lynx spoke in a tone full of reverent awe. His ears perked in that excited way only cats could pull off as a matching smile bloomed over his face. “From the Octonauts! My family and I have heard a lot about you guys.”

Then that smile fell once realization hit.

“And I made you spill most of your drink,” he realized in a slow tone full of dawning dread. His whole form sagged and both hands grasped his face to stifle a groan. “Ugh, Dad’s gonna kill me…”

Barnacles felt his heart ache at the young man’s reaction and right away knew he needed to salvage the situation.

He put a hand to his chest and gave an assuring smile.

“There’s no rule saying he has to find out,” the bear suggested. He waited for the cat to look back up at him before  continuing. “After all, no harm no foul, so why not keep this little incident between the two of us?”

The polar bear even threw in a cheeky wink for good measure.

At first the younger mammal blinked back owlishly, as if he expected the bear to say sike and laugh in his face instead.

Once he realized Barnacles meant his words, though, he let out a faint yet relieved chuckle and rubbed his nape.

“Uh, OK cool. I guess I’ll just leave ya to it then.”

Before the cat took a step to leave, Barnacles cleared his throat to catch the smaller mammal's attention.

“Actually, before you go, have you seen a female dachshund around here at any point? Long brown ears and hair, pink gown. Speaks with an Australian accent. She’s one of my crewmates and I’ve been hoping to rendezvous with her.”

The lynx shifted his face away in thought for a few moments before his eyes lit up in remembrance. He wagged his finger in time with his words.

“Oh. Oh, I think I saw someone like that talking to my sister outside earlier! Different balcony though.” He dropped his head. “Plus, it’s been a couple minutes since I last saw them, so…I have no idea where she could be right now. Y-Your crewmate I mean.”

The lynx tucked his head in embarrassment, ears tucking in and smile waning as if bracing himself for a nasty reaction.

“I’m really sorry.”

Barnacles crinkled his brow at the apology, reminded heavily of Peso and the penguin’s early days as the Octonauts’ official medic, a reminder that made the captain’s heart once again pain in sympathy.

The polar bear hence gave a soothing smile – the kind he often used to put his crew’s minds at ease – and raised both hands in a placating manner.

“There’s no need to apologize. I only want to find her so I can have someone familiar to talk to.” The white ursine averted his eyes in embarrassment, murmuring. “She’s always been better at handling these high-class events than me.”

Hearing that got the lynx undoing his nervous pose and raising his head to eye the bear in surprise.

“R-Really? I hope I don’t sound disrespectful or anything, Captain, but…you always seem so composed and regal in your pictures. I would think a guy like you would ace being at a gala.”

A low huff of a chuckle escaped Barnacles, the bear shaking his head.

“If only that were so. With events like these, I have an easier time ‘standing around and looking pretty’ as my second in command would say – and the sad part is he isn’t wrong. Conversing with the sorts of people here…”

Barnacles sighed, shifting his eyes away again. “That’s been a very mixed bag to say the least.”

The lynx, to his own surprise, nodded in understanding as he rubbed his own shoulder. “Y-Yeah, rich folks do tend to be pretty…judgmental” – he cast a sad downward gaze – “I would know.”

That same pang of pity struck Barnacles for the third time tonight and the bear frowned at how easily downtrodden this young man’s demeanor became. As much as he still wanted to find Dashi, his caretaking instincts refused to let him leave the lynx in such a state.

Barnacles hummed in thought before perking up at an idea. He regarded the cat with a hopeful smile.

“Why not come with me? If your sister’s still talking with Dashi, you can point her out. If she’s not, we can still ask her if she’s seen where my crewmate went.”

The lynx opened his mouth, only to wince and bunch up his shoulders. “Uh, yeah no. I prefer to avoid my sister as much as possible and vice versa. It’s for the best. Kitty has a real hate-on for me.”

Barnacles furrowed his brow in concern, caretaker instincts escalating now.

Surely, this young man was exaggerating…right?

Also, Kitty? the polar bear thought with an arched brow. Where have I heard that name before?

The lynx noticed the larger mammal’s expression and waved off the incoming concern with a meek laugh that absolutely did not reach his eyes.

“But hey, what’s some ribbing between siblings, right? I’m just a little too sensitive for my own good, is all.”

That response only worsened Barnacles’ frown. Because he did know what ribbing between siblings is like, having a sister himself.

Except the lynx’s use of the words ‘hate’ and ‘avoid’ in conjunction with his body language implied a different vibe in terms of sibling dynamics.

Barnacles shook his head. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions about people he didn’t know.

However, the polar bear could see plain as day the lynx’s discomfort and true to form sought to remedy it.

Tilting his head, Barnacles fixed on a comforting smile. “My sister likes to poke fun at me being sensitive too. Featherpaws, she likes to call me, mostly because I always let her win whenever we wrestled as cubs.”

For a moment, the lynx lost his plastered smile for a more unreadable face, making Barnacles fear he might have overstepped a boundary – only to raise one of his large paws to cover a slowly growing grin in vain, a snort even escaping.

“Featherpaws?” Right away, the lynx lost his smile and blushed, paws already flailing. “S-Sorry, sorry! That was disrespectful of me! I just –“

“No, no, it’s fine really!” Barnacles rushed to assure, even going so far as to put a hand on the lynx’s shoulder, an act that got both mammals staring at the gesture in surprise before the bear retracted his hand with a blush. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m so used to comforting my crew, sometimes I catch myself doing the same with others.

“But really, though, I don’t mind you laughing at me,” he regarded the lynx with a more candid face, smile and all. He chuckled, great shoulders bouncing. “It’s an amusing nickname after all, even if it is still embarrassing. Besides, we all have a right to laugh at ourselves every once in a while, don’t we?”

Though the lynx did not regain his smile, his eyes narrowed in curiosity as he cocked his head, searching for something.

After a moment, the cat pointed a finger at Barnacles, voice full of wonder as he spoke.

“You’re…not what I expected.”

That statement got Barnacles blinking a few times. He clearly hadn’t expected that for a response.

“What were you expecting?” he asked in an interested tone, taking care not to come off as offended.

For a moment, the lynx seemed as though he might brush off the question…until he shrugged.

“I dunno. I guess…maybe a little boastful, swaggering? Attention-hungry? Kinda temperamental? ‘Spouting tall tales of you foolishly gallivanting on nonsensical escapades’ – my dad’s words, not mine.”

Barnacles simply stared back in silence…before doubling over in mirthful chuckles, still managing to come off as stately even as he clutched his sides much to the lynx’s amazement.

Before long, the bear restored his posture and wiped some tears from his eyes.

“Oh-ho dear…I think your father has me confused for my lieutenant! I’m more so the one usually keeping Kwazii in line!”

 Yet despite how all his words sounded like a jab, Barnacles felt his heart lightening at the thought of his spirited friend. He could already imagine the orange cat detesting being here even more than him, tugging at and complaining about being stuffed into a tux.

Oh, and the things that daredevil would have said straight to Milton Lynxley’s face. Just the thought alone almost got Barnacles to start a second fit of laughter.

Instead, he maintained his composure and regarded the lynx with a humored smile.

“It always baffles people whenever they find out he’s my second in command given how he carries himself. He’s certainly landed himself in a fair number of scrapes, but to be honest” – his face grew fond as his eyes shifted to the night sky – “I can’t imagine anyone better suited for the role than him.”

The bear never noticed the lynx scrutinizing him with a baffled expression.

“So…you made him your right-hand guy even after all the times he’s messed up…simply cuz you like him?”

Barnacles finally regarded the lynx with an inquisitive blink, thrown off at first. He quickly shook his head once the question registered with him.

“Hmm? Oh no, there was more to my decision than that. Honestly, when Kwazii and I first met, I had assumed he would be no different than other pirates my crew and I had encountered. On the contrary—”

“HE’S AN ACTUAL PIRATE?!”

In what was quickly becoming a trend tonight, Barnacles and the lynx once again fell into shocked silence as they shared a long awkward stare, the cat having leaned into the bear’s personal space without meaning to.

The lynx, to his credit, soon realized what he was doing and pulled back with a blush as he slapped a hand over his mouth for a hot second. His amber eyes darted back to the ballroom behind Barnacles to see if that shout had attracted anyone’s attention.

To his relief, no.

He dropped his hand with an embarrassed sigh. “Sorry. Lemme try that again. The eyepatch guy I’ve seen in pictures of you and your crew…is a real pirate. Like, really real. He’s not just pretending or dressing up?”

Barnacles simply smiled in good-natured amusement. “As real as the oceans themselves. Takes after his grandfather in fact, who’s quite a legend in his own right.”

The lynx, still befuddled, pointed a fuzzy finger at Barnacles.

“And you trust him as your second in command?” he gestured with his hands, palms out. “Like…if something ever happens to you—”

“He’ll take my place as leader,” Barnacles finished in a soft wistful tone, eyes shimmering, smile still in place yet smaller.

It was not a thought the polar bear liked to entertain – not because he deemed Kwazii unworthy of the position, but rather because he detested the implication of himself no longer being there for his crew after everything they’d weathered together.

The idea felt unthinkable…but Barnacles knew sooner or later, for one reason or another, whether by his choice or fate’s design, he would no longer be able to fulfill his duties as captain.

Someone would need to fill the space left behind.

“So yes,” Barnacles answered in soft tender confidence. “I trust him.”

The lynx meanwhile could only stare back in awe…and something else the polar bear couldn’t quite identify (though if he were a betting man, he’d wager on something in the vicinity of sadness and longing).

Rather than comment, the cat bit his bottom lip and averted his eyes.

Barnacles noticed and craned his neck in worry. “Are you alright?”

The lynx did not answer at first, amber eyes focused on the city lights in the distance. Then he refaced Barnacles.

“How’d did he prove himself? This Kwazii guy. Weren’t you or any of your crew worried he might mess things up for you guys or cause trouble?”

Something in Barnacles couldn’t help but feel this young man might be projecting.

Regardless, the polar bear set his jaw and shrugged. “I can’t lie. There were growing pains and other issues for everyone after he joined – and loathe as I am to admit so, there were times when I found myself questioning whether I made the right choice.”

But then he thumped a gentle fist to his chest, face stalwart.

“But I stuck to my guns, and I gave my all to support and guide him, just as I have for the others. It’s all too easy and tempting to assume you already know someone’s potential, even before you give them a chance. That’s why I always look to not just Kwazii’s skills but his character as well.”

Barnacles turned his gaze towards Zootopia-proper, more specifically in the direction of the nearest ocean, where he knew his crew would be, tending to the Octopod in his absence.

Under Kwazii’s watchful eye, no less.

“For all his flaws, for all his mistakes, he never fails to prove why he deserves to be an Octonaut.”

He allowed his words, sincere and fond, to settle into the ensuing silence.

Then a sniffle came.

The bear started at the sound and shot his eyes to the lynx, only to find him embracing himself, eyes misty.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, reaching out a hand in concern.

The lynx was quick to wave off the incoming comfort. “S-Sorry. It’s just…the way you talk about your lieutenant. Sounds a lot like how I wish my dad would be with me.”

Barnacles angled his head with a ginger squint. Though he had to remind himself once again that he shouldn’t assume about people he did not know well, he could not mistake the longing in the younger mammal’s eyes.

The polar bear gently cleared his throat to garner the lynx’s attention.

“Would you like to sit down with me?”

The lynx’s brow furrowed in confusion but was quick to shake his head. “No, no, no. I’ve already wasted enough of your time, sir.”

Barnacles shook his head with a soft smile. “The main ceremony won’t be for another half hour if I remember right. Plus, Dashi might be anywhere by now and come looking for me before then, so it’d be easier for me to just wait in place and let her find me instead.”

Then he gestured to his younger associate. “Although if you have somewhere to be, I won’t hold you up.”

He wanted the young cat to choose for himself after all.

The lynx opened his mouth at first as if to affirm…only to sigh.

“I just don’t think there’s anything about me you’d find interesting.”

Barnacles let his smile shift into a lopsided smirk as he pulled out a chair from the table and copped a squat, lounging back with one elbow draped over the back of the chair, other arm across his lap.

“Try me.”

The lynx just stared back in utter bewilderment before sighing in defeat and plopping himself in the chair opposite the bear. He leaned forward with his arms crossed on top of the table.

“OK. I might as well start with the basics. Uh, I’m Pawbert, I live here in Tundra Town, and I’m the youngest among my siblings. I already told ya about my sister, but I also have an older brother. He really enjoys…heckling me, so I usually avoid him too.”

The wince as the cat spoke that last part did not escape Barnacles’ notice, but the bear wisely kept that observation to himself.

Pawbert rolled his eyes in a meditative manner as he drummed his hands against the tabletop. “Let’s see. Uh, I usually work in the mailroom down by the docks. I also do some volunteer training sometimes. Motorcycle lessons.”

In surprise Barnacles let off a low laugh, a deep yet light sound. “You have a motorcycle?”

Pawbert stiffened for a moment, eyes once again examining the bear’s face again as though still trying to detect something. When he didn’t find what he expected, the lynx found himself loosening up a little more.

“Um, yeah. My dad bought it for me. Mostly so I could make myself scarce more easily whenever he’s got clients over.” Pawbert shrugged. “It’s also pretty handy for when I gotta do errands for my siblings.”

Barnacles hummed. “Do you ever travel around the city? Casual drives or anything of the sort?”

Pawbert trilled his lips for a bit before rubbing his nape. “Not everywhere. I tend to stick to the less crowded parts – way less hassle. Although” – he paused a moment to see if Barnacles was still paying attention – “there is this one place I frequent a lot. It’s more of a massive camping site in the desert. They let all sorts of animals pitch up tents where they can just chill out.

“After I’d turned seventeen, I started looking into buying out a place where I could set up a spot for myself. I’d already got a decent bit of cash built up from all my odd jobs by then, so it was just a matter of getting a place reserved and my tent set up.”

All the while the cat explained, Barnacles had been observing.

He’d been listening as promised, of course, but in the back of his head he could not help noting how Pawbert had eased up now that the younger mammal had the all-clear to talk about what mattered to him.

And quite a bit mattered to the lynx: action figures, anime, manga, video games, horror movies – much of which flew over Barnacles’ head due to the generation gap, but the way Pawbert went on with such enthusiasm made boredom impossible.

So much in fact that neither male noticed someone emerging from the ballroom.

“OK,” Pawbert recounted with a chortle, “so there I was just sorting boxes and then this one giraffe I work with leaned down and asked me—”

“Captain?”

Barnacles perked his ears at the familiar voice and shifted in his seat to discover a familiar dachshund making her way to his and Pawbert’s table.

“Dashi,” the polar bear greeted with a happy smile. “Seems you found me. I originally meant to search for you myself, but I figured waiting on you would be easier.”

Dashi shot her captain an amused arch of her brow, hands akimbo. “And with enjoyable company apparently. To be frank with you, I’m rather jealous.”

Barnacles chuckled as he gestured a hand to Pawbert. “Seems you caught me red-pawed. Dashi, I’d like to introduce you to…Pawbert?”

Turning his head in the middle of his introduction, the polar bear only now noticed the lynx had gone rigid, eyes wide and fixed on Dashi.

At least until Barnacles leaned in to snap his fingers in Pawbert’s face. The lynx snapped back to reality immediately, eyes darting about to get his bearings before he realized what he’d been doing and blushed profusely.

“S-SORRY! I have no idea what came over me just now!”

Dashi waved off the apology with a light giggle. “It’s alright. You’re not the first person I’ve left stunned this evening.”

She even went so far as to flip one of her long ears as though it were hair. The sight got Barnacles chuckling and even Pawbert letting out a shy ‘heh’.

“Although, my looks might have been too effective tonight.” Dashi crossed her arms with a frown. “I wound up catching the attention of both heirs to the Lynxley business. Thankfully, the brother got pulled away by some clients of his. The sister, on the other hand…”

The dog shook her head, chagrin apparent on her face. “Took me forever to shake her off.”

Barnacles winced. “I might have been able to spare you the hassle had I come for you. Sorry about that.”

With another shake of her head, Dashi dismissed the apology. “Probably best you didn’t. Kitty went at length about how ‘baffling’ it is that someone like you is still single – and that was after ages of listening to her critique everything and everyone in sight. Chances are you would’ve had an even harder time than I did shaking her off.”

Barnacles rubbed his nape with a bashful chuckle. He could imagine the scenario, considering how many people had implied or expressed that sort of interest in him tonight.

Yet right as he opened his mouth to comment, his brain registered the name Dashi had brought up – the surname specifically.

As realization dawned on him, he slowly turned to Pawbert and pointed a finger at him. Speaking of whom, he noticed how the lynx himself had tucked his head in again.

“You…said your sister’s name is Kitty,” Barnacles recalled. His voice came out more mystified rather than accusatory. “But then that means you’re –“

“Yeah, I’m a Lynxley too,” Pawbert confirmed with a nervous smile. He even threw in some awkward jazz hands to lighten the mood (to no avail). “Surpriiiiise, heh-heh. I, uh, saw you chatting with my dad earlier, by the way. You did not seem like you were vibing with him.”

A rare sardonic chuckle escaped Barnacles as the polar bear looked away and traced a finger along the rim of his glass for something to focus on.

“Was I that obvious? I never even intended to engage with him. The man zeroed in on me the moment we locked eyes. Non-romantically of course.”

The polar bear cocked his head in confusion at Pawbert. “If I may ask, though, why did you only disclose your first name?”

Pawbert fidgeted with his forepaws for a bit before finally regarding the bear and dog.

“I’m gonna be blunt, guys,” he exhaled. “My dad is not your crew’s biggest fan. Pretty much thinks you all are a waste of dollars and resources.”

Then he gestured a paw to himself. “Now me? I actually kinda fu – rock with what you guys do. I mean, not a lotta animals risk their lives for Mother Nature…and you guys do it for free too.”

Barnacles ran a hand along his jawline, chuckling. “We Octonauts don’t put a price tag on kindness, although the fundraisers we help DAWN raise never hurt.”

“And if we ever need more supplies,” Dashi added as she walked up and leaned against the side of her captain’s chair with crossed arms, “we’ve plenty of contacts we can trade materials with worldwide, most of whom already owe us for helping them out.”

Barnacles nodded. “And there are always the wealthier clients who pay us for helping out with their conservation projects.”

Pawbert hummed. He took a moment to just take in Dashi’s words, his smiling waning. Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess…I thought you’d avoid me on principle if you found out who my dad was. I don’t often get to talk to guests I vibe with.”

Barnacles softened his face in sympathy. “Well, for what this gala’s been worth, Pawbert, I think you’ve been the highlight of this evening.”

Pawbert gawked at the captain for a second, speechless, before forcing out a weak chuckle.

“C-C’mon, you don’t mean that!” Clearly the bear was just humoring him.

But Barnacles shook his head, eyes going downcast.

“I do. I wasn’t lying earlier about high-class events being hard for me.” He felt Dashi’s hand on his shoulder as he continued and raised his eyes to Pawbert, smiling again. “In a way, I can relate to what you’re feeling. Perhaps that’s why talking to you has been so much easier for me.”

Pawbert merely blinked a few times, disbelieving. There was no way this bear could be speaking the truth. The lynx broke away his stare with half-lidded eyes, much to Barnacles and Dashi’s concern.

“Please tell me you’re lying,” he spoke up at least with a faint laugh. “You can’t expect me to believe someone like you has been having a good time with me. I mean, look at me!”

Barnacles, calm and patient, shifted his eyes up and down. Eventually he nodded. “I am.”

“I’m serious!” Pawbert griped, agitated for the first time since this conversation began. His shoulders fell in exasperation. “I always mess stuff up without trying and embarrass people around me! You go up against all kinds of dangerous stuff and come out on top! You’re just…”

The lynx grasped at the air as though he could physically grab the words he wanted – until he helplessly gestured both paws at Barnacles.

“…perfect!”

Barnacles and Dashi simply stared back in stunned silence, jaws agape at the lynx’s outburst.

Then Barnacles let his face soften and his eyes cast a thoughtful gaze upon the table.

“I’m not,” he murmured in a voice too small for someone his size.

Pawbert shook his head, not understanding. “Yes, you are!”

Barnacles shook his head back. “No, I’m genuinely not. I am where I am now largely because people believe in my ability to lead and take charge. To be fair, they’re not wrong. I’ve led my crew to success many times.”

Pawbert smiled again, triumphant. “There, ya see?!”

“I’ve also failed them at times,” Barnacles added.

His solemn tone of voice crumbled Pawbert’s expression like a finger tap against an already feeble wall. The bear felt Dashi’s hand rubbing circles into his upper back.

“Communication was a huge issue when we were starting out,” Barnacles continued. “No surprise with all the different walks of life we come from – and I didn’t always handle arguments with enough sternness.”

Milton’s comments (insults) about the crew’s diversity came back to mind.

“There’s also the matter of the creatures we’ve failed to save over the years.” Barnacles leaned his thick arms on the table, eyes going misty. “The first time it happened, most of us were inconsolable, especially our medic.”

No surprise either considering most of them, save for Barnacles and Inkling and Kwazii, had never had to deal with death out in the field. Barnacles in particular had, at best, experience comforting one or two fellow agents at a time.

But dealing with death as a team? Dear God, that had been a whole other beast altogether for everyone.

Barnacles took a deep breath, steadying his emotions against the heavy memories.

“Getting through to everyone, assuring them that our mission wasn’t in vain, that death did not make us failures – I had struggled for the longest time. The best I could do was remind them that we’re here for each other, that no one is alone in this, and focus on keeping things running so we’d still have some sense of normalcy.”

And all throughout the bear’s confession, Pawbert had gone quiet, floored by everything he was hearing.

Barnacles shrugged. “For a while, I wondered if our crew would stay like this, shaken and demoralized. But then…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the way Pawbert’s ears perked up and chuckled.

“Things started to shift. Little by little at first, but in time we found our footing again. Can you guess how?”

Pawbert let his mouth gape for a bit before he fidgeted with his hands, unable to make eye contact. “Well…it’s because you had each other, right?”

Barnacles nodded, smiling like a proud parent. “Because we were there for each other, because we couldn’t bear facing the hardship alone, let alone leaving the others to do the same.”

After all, they had all faced that sort of loneliness in one way or another before becoming the Octonauts.

“And because we came to understand and accept each other’s differences too,” Dashi added with a soft expression she cast on the lynx. “We just needed to keep open minds and open hearts.”

“Do you understand now, Pawbert?” Barnacles spoke in the sort of tone a father would reserve for his children, his gaze on the lynx tender. “That is the key to our crew’s success…and why Zootopia has still so far to go.”

At last, Pawbert let his eyes meet Barnacles’ and found himself taken by the soft confidence.

The lynx tried multiple times to respond, to say anything, only to choke on air time and time again until eventually he sagged back into his chair with look of pure awe.

“You guys are something else,” he murmured at last. He started to shake his head. “I’ve…never really had anything like that.”

Dashi furrowed her brow in confusion at that last sentence. “Not even from your family?”

Pawbert shook his head. “N-Not really, not since years anyway. The closest are my family’s servants and most of them are pretty scared of my dad. It’s more or less been me on my own.”

Dashi shared a saddened gaze with her captain. Then the brown hound huffed and fixed a stern gaze on Pawbert, one hand akimbo.

“Well, I think they’re missing out! Even from what little I overheard from your and Captain’s conversation, you seem like someone well worth getting to know. As a matter of fact,” – the dachshund grabbed a chair and took a seat beside Barnacles, setting an elbow on the table and propping her chin up with her hand – “I believe you were in the middle of a story when I showed up?”

“Ah, that’s right!” Barnacles confirmed, his intrigue back to life like a forest in spring. “You were about to mention what happened between you and your coworker in the mailroom if I remember correctly.”

And Pawbert…could simply stare, dumbfounded by the smiling bear and dog sitting across from him, both patiently waiting for him to continue his story.

Because again there was nothing worth sharing with either of them, not about him.

Yet they clearly thought otherwise, seeing something that the lynx himself couldn’t. Something worthwhile.

To say this was a shock to Pawbert’s system and worldview would be a gross understatement.

Let it never be said, though, he strove to disappoint others (not on purpose anyway) because with a resigned sigh and halfhearted grin, he willed himself to continue.

“Alright. Just don’t blame me if you get bored…”

XXX

“Can you believe the nerve of them?”

“Father always does go on about how softhearted they are.”

Unbeknownst to the trio of mammals, they had caught the eyes of two certain twins – or at least Barnacles and Dashi did. Cattrick had been nearby enough to overhear the captain subtly roast Milton while Kitty, in the midst of entertaining a small crowd of guests with a story of her most recent literary achievement, had noticed Dashi strolling towards the same balcony the lady Lynxley last recalled Pawbert sneaking off to.

The two heirs did not take long to follow and cross each other’s paths. A comparison of notes had been enough for them to reach a swift conclusion: those Octonauts warranted a closer examination, especially that polar bear.

After all, very few people ever sassed their father and lived to tell about it.

And now there the two stood by the catering table, nursing drinks of wine while keeping up poised smiles for the guests around them to avoid rousing suspicion (from Milton in particular). They had picked a prime location from which to spy on the trio’s conversation, slitted eyes scrutinizing the scene from afar.

“I think the word you’re looking for is softheaded,” Kitty continued on with a scoff.

Because honestly, those two found conversation with Pawbert interesting? Were they that bored or just plain stupid?

The heiress idly tapped a claw against her glass as she studied the interactions between the youngest Lynxley and his companions with a critical gaze. “What do you think the odds are they’ll try and recruit him?”

Cattrick arched a corner of his mouth – the Lynxley equivalent of bending over in laughter – at the idea. “Oh, I almost hope so. A trembling weepy mess like him would fit in perfectly, no doubt. Then again, he’d probably mess it up and get shipped back to us within a week.”

Kitty pursed her lips, almost giving into the urge to sneer. “I’d give him about three days.”

The twins said nothing else for a while, simply watching Pawbert speak to the two Octonauts with more confidence than either lynx had ever seen him display in the longest time.

“You don’t think he’d actually go with them,” Kitty spoke up at last, voice soft in a way she didn’t want to analyze. “Do you?”

Cattrick scoffed, a sound that came off more forced than usual. “Father would never allow it. After all, there’s always the risk that Pawbert could rat us out.”

Their father made damn certain to keep his youngest child out of and faraway from the “deals” that were so instrumental to maintaining the Lynxley family’s power and position – not out of concern but rather to prevent Pawbert from jeopardizing things with his brand of poor decision making.

However, that countermeasure didn’t rule out the possibility of Pawbert whining about his home life, which would trigger the nosy parker in those goody-goody Octonauts and have them pester the lynx for answers.

Answers that would lead to investigations, investigations that could steer them – and in turn DAWN – very close to places the family couldn’t afford to expose.

In short, it’d be in the family’s best interest to intervene sooner rather than later.

And yet…neither twin made a move. They merely continued to watch.

“He still has that magazine with their interviews,” Cattrick casually mentioned to break the silence. “I’ve also caught him looking up the photos taken by that dog in the dress.”

“You mean the same dog whose photos you’ve been looking up?” Kitty casually quipped right as her brother took a sip of his drink.

Cattrick barely managed to purse his lips in time, only a brief shower of wine managing to spray the air. Thankfully, no guests had been close enough to notice. He lightly palmed his chest with slight coughs.

Kitty had chosen that moment to take a sip as well, though only to ensure the glass hid her smirk.

Through self-control honed by years of etiquette training, Cattrick managed to swiftly regain his poise and clear his throat. “That aside, those Octonauts don’t even realize Dad’s been having them tailed since the moment they showed up.”

Indeed, the twins subtly noted the suited polar bear bodyguards – the sort the Lynxleys employed for muscle and intimidation – standing beside the edges of the door, just out of view of Pawbert, Barnacles, and Dashi.

Kitty tapped a clawed finger against her glass. Her tail swished low to the ground, the feline sign of discomfort. “You don’t think Daddy will try anything in front of them, do you?”

Cattrick seized that moment to take another sip, this time to throw nearby suspicion off the way his brow suddenly furrowed when one of the polar bears put a finger to their earpiece and nodded. Neither twin needed their species’ excellent hearing to figure out the caller’s identity.

“Historical analysis would say yes, yes he will.” He spared Kitty a nod before setting aside his drink and making a smooth departure towards the balcony. “Stay here and keep an eye on Dad. I’ll collect him.”

XXX

“Your family’s rich too?” Pawbert asked out of curiosity, previous anxiety once again forgotten.

Dashi pursed her lips and twirled Barnacles’ glass in her hand. “Well, not Lynxley-rich, but certainly more well-off than most folks. My mother’s a famous photographer while my father’s an author of mystery novels. I take after my mother, so you can probably guess who my little sis Koshi got inspired by.”

Pawbert nodded along, tail swishing in rare ease. “I think I’ve seen some of her photos actually, and my brother has some of your dad’s books. He’s always been a mystery nut, even if he won’t admit it.”

“Oh?” Barnacles asked out of intrigue. “Which ones? I’ve read a few of them myself, so I might recognize some.”

“’The Case of the Missing Locket’ and ‘The Hidden Cupboard’ to name a few.”

All three mammals, especially Pawbert, started at the new voice and swiftly turned and found a sharply dressed lynx standing before their table with a calm poised smile beneath cool analytical eyes, hands behind his back.

“C-Cattrick!” Pawbert squeaked, returning to default again as he shot up, shoulders stiff and arms at his sides like a startled soldier before his commander. He tried very hard to ignore the concern on Barnacles and Dashi’s faces.

“Father’s looking for you,” his older brother stated in a languid yet curt tone. “He’s been wondering where you’ve been this whole time. Besides, it’s almost time for the main event and he’d like for us to do some last-minute rehearsals.”

Pawbert forced out a nervous chuckle as he rubbed his arm in thinly veiled anxiety. “Gee, th-that time already? Better not keep him waiting then.”

He turned to the two Octonauts with an apologetic frown. “Sorry. I really got going. I hope you two enjoy what’s left of the gala though.”

Barnacles and Dashi barely managed to get in halfhearted nods as they watched the lynx join his older brother. Yet just as the two cats turned to leave, Dashi spoke up, voice sweet and demure.

“Cattrick, was it? It was nice getting to know your brother.”

Both Lynxley sons froze in their tracks and shot disbelieving stares over their shoulders at the dachshund – Pawbert more obvious and almost touched, Cattrick subtle yet perplexed.

When the Lynxley heir opened his mouth, no doubt to disregard the dog’s comment, Barnacles spoke up next, his voice measured and composed yet bearing a tone that allowed no room for argument.

“Make sure not to take him for granted.” His navy eyes glimmered with silent firmness as he spoke this. He hadn’t forgotten all the tells and red flags he’d gathered since meeting the youngest Lynxley. “Believe me. You never know when your day with a loved one might be the last.”

All eyes took in the polar bear with varying amounts of surprise.

Dashi because she hadn’t expected her captain to reference a certain tragedy in his life.

Pawbert because once again he found himself floored by the bear’s unyielding support.

And Cattrick because he had no idea how to respond to such weighty words of wisdom.

For once, the Lynxley heir let his façade melt (just a little), enough for the Octonauts to catch a rare streak of vulnerability streak across his eyes.

“I’m well aware, Captain.”

Pawbert only got one second to spare his brother a look of surprise next before Cattrick put a hand to the younger lynx’s back and conspicuously pushed him towards the ballroom.

A meek final glance, wave, and smile were all Pawbert managed to give the two Octonauts before Cattrick closed the doors on them.

Barnacles and Dashi sat in solemn silence for a few moments, taking everything that had happened, everything spoken and unspoken.

At last, Dashi regarded her captain with an unsure gaze. “Do you…think Pawbert will be alright, Captain?”

For moment, Barnacles did not respond beyond a slight narrowing of the eyes.

Then he heaved a breath weighed down by uncertainty, fogging up in the cold night air, before casting his eyes starward.

“We can only hope so, Dashi.”