It was a quiet night, and all the staff had been excused. He had taken a cold meal by himself and retired to his study, as he did every night, to study languages. The study of language was how he passed time in the evenings when he wasn't filing paperwork or on a mission, and it was one of the very few hobbies he had, a rare pleasurable time in his day. He sat at his desk and pulled a book open to a page on Tamil and a further look at silent consonants.

 

He realized he was planning to pass the next three hours, until he retired to sleep, studying. It occurred to him that this was normal. He sat back in his chair, lit a cigarette, and pondered recent events.

 

He had just come back from an extremely important undercover mission in Brattislava. He had only taken three members of his team with him, and it was necessary to maintain radio silence with NATO for the two weeks it took to complete the mission. However, two days in, his father had died. The funeral had taken place while he was away and completely unaware. He had gone to NATO in order to file the report straight from the airport upon returning, where the Chief had called him in to break the news in as straightforward a manner as possible.

 

While merely talking to his father had given him ulcers, the death left him bereft, and he felt like he had failed his father on a more profound level than what the man usually groused about by not being able to attend the funeral, or even knowing about his death until two weeks after it had happened. Such was the way of things for a NATO spymaster, but it was something the Major hadn't really given much thought to. What could happen while he was away?

 

For that matter, how did the death change his life? Not at all. Lawyers would take care of his father's affairs in Lucerne. The castle in Bonn now legally belonged to him. For the time being, the staff had taken time off in order to grieve. They had all been fond of the old man who, for all his hardness when dealing with his son, had always been kind to the staff. It was something that the Major never quite mastered himself.

 

So that left him with a ridiculously large, empty castle where he could study foreign languages all night, then sleep and return to work the same as he did every day.

 

And honestly, aside from someone firebombing NATO headquarters or his castle, he couldn't think of anything else that could be anywhere near as significant as his father's death that could happen while he was away. The thought disturbed him a little.

 

Stubbing out his cigarette, the Major bent down and opened the lowest desk drawer, reaching in the back to remove a photo he hadn't thought to look at in years.

 

Leni. Helene.

 

*****

 

Klaus had gone to a private all-boys boarding school while he was growing up, and even at a young age, got into fights with a lot of the boys and didn't have many friends. The only boys that would even speak to him that weren't looking for a fight were the other boys on the football team, and even they weren't inviting him to their birthday parties. So it was that every weekend Klaus found himself spending time alone, usually going for long-distance runs or studying outside in a large park that stood between his school and the all-girls sister school nearby.

 

As he stood on the steps of the school grounds relacing his shoes for a jog, he noticed a group of boys approaching a waiting group of girls under a tree.

 

Whatever.

 

He looked back down and concentrated on his shoes for a minute or two, and when he looked back as he was descending the staircase, he noticed the boys and girls leaving together in pairs. Klaus checked to see if any members of the football team were among the numbers to mentally prepare for a long-winded brag during the next practice, but then he noticed that one of the girls had been left beside the tree. As he looked from her to the boisterous group, Klaus noticed she had been the odd member out.

 

Something in Klaus had broken to see the girl's face as she stared after her friends, presumably completely forgotten. Thoughts warred, one that said that he was about to waste his time and one that had been bred into him from the day he was born to be a gentleman.

 

As he got closer, naturally following the path he took for his walks, he noticed that she had likely been left behind as the least attractive member of the group of girls. She was very tall and very heavyset, with a long face and athletic build. She had straight brown hair that was held back from her face with a plain black clip on the back of her head, and her round face was set with small green eyes, a small nose, and a large mouth with braces on her teeth.  She did not wear any makeup and had no piercings, and the only jewelry she wore was a small gold cross on a chain around her neck.  Her casual dress sense was a bit lacking, and she wore a red and black plaid skirt with black tights and a baggy red sweater.  Something told Klaus that she probably got left behind a lot. The sad look on her face didn't get any easier to take as he got closer, and he relented, convincing himself that perhaps breaking routine and wasting the afternoon might feel better later.

 

"Excuse me, miss, I'm sorry I'm late." huffed Klaus, faking fatigue as he jogged up to the girl. "I had completely forgot that... er, Eric had told me we were meeting with the girls today." He had almost stumbled at a suitable name to use for a friend, pulling a name at random from a boy who sat next to him in class.

 

The girl visibly brightened. "Oh! I didn't realize there was one more boy coming! I was about to go back home. I'm glad you caught me before I did!" She put her hand out, palm down. "My name is Helene."

 

Well, at least her manners were good. Not even the girls that came over with his father’s friends offered their hands as a greeting.  He took her hand and bowed slightly. "I'm Klaus."

 

Helene blushed slightly and looked quickly at the retreating group. "None of the other boys had introduced themselves like that, thank you for the formality. Would you like to catch up to the others, then?"

 

"Er. No, I don't think so. They left without us anyway, right? I don't really want to see them right now." Klaus hadn't spoken this many civil words to someone his age in months, and the effort was beginning to tax him. He thought quickly, looking for an activity that wouldn't require a lot of talking. "I don't remember what the plans for the afternoon were. But maybe you'd like to go to the cinema? It has been a long time since I've gone."

 

Klaus frowned as he looked over at the girl.  Truthfully, he had only been taken to the theater a handful of times by his butler on the man's day off. It wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, but he thought it might not require a lot of talking in case he couldn't tolerate an entire afternoon of the girl's prattle.

 

He felt a little better when he saw the broad smile the girl gave him. Perhaps it wouldn't be a wasted afternoon after all.

 

*****

 

Helene had proven to be far from all the silly, empty-headed girls that he’d met before. After that first afternoon, when Helene had chosen a movie that Klaus had wound up enjoying, Klaus suggested they meet under the same tree a month later to see another picture. Slowly, a monthly arrangement had turned into a meeting every two weeks, then every week, then dinner with Klaus on Saturday evening and lunch in the park courtesy of Helene on Sundays. They visited each other on school holidays at their respective residences. Helene's father was a wealthy shipping magnate and the two of them visiting each other raised little comment with either of their families.

 

Helene was smart, and enjoyed talking about history, particularly ancient history and civilizations. She didn't let the conversation drift to the things Klaus noticed the boys at his school complaining about as typical female conversation, and in Helene, he found the only person he could really open up to and share all his complaints with. Helene listened, though Klaus always felt a little bad since she didn't seem to ever have as much to complain about as he did. She never really seemed to see his side of things, and to be fair, when he explained his fights to her, they always wound up sounding silly. He could tell she disapproved. For her, he tried to change, though it went more towards keeping to himself even further rather than trying to make friends with the other boys.

 

Klaus was absolutely head-over-heels in love with his beloved Leni. Being the same age and going to school so close together, they were a couple until both finished their education.

 

Except... well, Klaus was never very good at talking about his feelings for Helene with the girl herself. He had, in fact, never formally asked her to be his girlfriend, but assumed it was understood between the two of them, and was relieved when the girl began introducing Klaus as her beau. For his part, Klaus could never bring himself to do the same, finding that the words just wouldn't come out. He was just too embarrassed by his feelings, and hoped that when he left off the title, it was understood. The lack of acknowledgment never seemed to bother Helene, and it was clear enough to the boys at his school that he and Leni were together.

 

And because it embarrassed him, and because he wasn't sure if she'd like it, Klaus could never bring himself to so much as hold hands with Leni. He had always secretly hoped that she'd ask about it so that it could be out in the open, but she never did. At the time, he knew it wasn't proper for a girl to ask about something like that, and that he should take the initiative, but he had always been privately disappointed that Leni didn't like him enough to take his hand herself. That's all it would have taken to open the door up to... well, other things.

 

But they continued with their weekends together until it came time for University. Klaus had been very proud of Leni when she was accepted at the University of Vienna for their cultural studies program.  It was unusual, since most of the girls in her upper-class school were going to go on to be society women, and he was glad she had decided to further her education and try for a career.  It was something else to admire about her.  Klaus, of course, followed his father's footsteps into the service and to an officer's training school in Idar-Oberstein, where he'd bounce around the country to Dresden, back to Idar-Oberstein, and then finally to get a regular Bachelors and Masters degree at Universität der Bundeswehr München.

 

His heart had broken when they had to separate for so long.  He called Helene every Saturday afternoon and wrote to her two or three times a week, just as he did on holidays when the two weren't visiting one another, every break since they’d met. Going to the new school had been very hard for him, and it didn’t help when all the boys had turned out to be as short-tempered as he was. Only the thought of seeing Leni's disapproval had stopped his tongue before, and he tried to be good for her. Except she never answered any of his letters. And their calls kept getting shorter and shorter.

 

*****

 

Of course, despite the fact that Klaus thought of little aside from Leni in his spare time, he had always wondered how... well, certain things would work. He was shy. Very shy. His mind stopped at thinking he ought to, one day, perhaps give Helene a chaste kiss. Being young, Klaus had assumed that they'd spend the rest of their lives together.  The absurdity of going from not holding hands to a marriage proposal hadn’t occurred to him at the time, and he had been planning on asking Leni to marry him when they both got out of university.

 

About three months before going to officer's training, Klaus experienced the only erotic dream he would ever have. It was he and Leni in the lunch room of his school, on top of one of the tables. He had woken up just as they finished, sitting bolt upright in bed, and such a strong feeling of revulsion had washed over him that he found himself in silent tears, from what emotion they came from he couldn't say. It was one of only two times he had wept as an adult.

 

*****

 

Towards the end of Leni’s first year at university, she had told Klaus over the phone that she was having a study session on Saturdays and would no longer be able to speak to him.  Klaus hadn’t had the heart to ask when the study sessions would be over.  He knew they never really would be, for him.  The small hope that he’d been holding on to all year, the single thing that had been a bright spot for him during his miserable officer’s training, had just been lost.

 

A few weeks later, he had received a letter from Leni postmarked from Bonn.  It had been short.  It said simply that she had loved him, and she had always wished that he would love her back.  She was tired of being best friends.  She didn’t need a friend, she needed a boyfriend who wasn’t repulsed by the idea of putting his arm around her.

 

This had been the second time Klaus had wept.  He had thought about answering her letter, saying that he’d always loved her, that she hadn’t repulsed him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He knew it wouldn’t have made any difference.

 

 

*****

 

In the present, the Major undid the latches on the back of the picture frame to re-read the yellowed letter.  He had kept it, along with a single photo of he and Leni at a party one of their families had thrown.  It bothered the Major he hadn’t been able to remember which one, but it didn’t matter too much.  They both looked their best in the photo, and it was one of the handful of times the Major had decided it was appropriate to put his arm around her waist.

 

He had tried to find Helene about ten years ago. She had dropped out of university to marry a man who had gone on to be an important research scientist. She was a stay-at-home mother with six children now. The Major had been extremely disillusioned by that. He wished he had been around to talk her into sticking to her studies, if not to be the very man she married. He never would have allowed her to become a hausfrau.

 

The memories were needling him.  Unnecessary, sentimental garbage.  He thought about throwing the whole frame, letter and picture together, out.  What did he need it for, anyway?  It served no practical purpose.

 

Except to depress him horribly, he supposed.  He tucked the letter back into the frame and righted the picture as he lit another cigarette and frowned.  Schiesse.

 

*****

 

He had been unbearably lonely during the officer's training. He couldn't bring himself to not fight with his classmates, so making friends at school was out, and he had trouble keeping everything bottled in after how easy it had been to talk to Helene.  For several months, he still wrote her letters about his problems and simply didn’t mail them.  This stopped when a roommate had found the packet of letters among his things and questioned him about it.  He hadn’t owned up to what it was, aside from letters to his girlfriend.  He had taken a sound beating from nearly every boy in the dormitory over the contents, which had badmouthed pretty much everyone there, but he couldn’t imagine hearing the end of it if they knew the letters hadn’t been written to a “real” girlfriend.  It was pathetic, and he decided he would have to find someone else to talk to, another girlfriend, if he was going to keep himself sane and survive the army.  It was simply too lonely without friends, and he was tired of taking it out on and fighting with the other boys, especially since they fought dirty and ganged up.

 

The problem was that he wasn't sure how to go about finding another girlfriend. He tried going to clubs and bars during his off time, which seemed to be how everyone else went about doing it. Except he couldn't bring himself to speak to the women that went to these places, and it was intolerable to be "picked up" by a woman who would try in the first place. He usually stormed out after an hour or so, a few angry, tearful women in his wake.

 

He tried a different tactic. He began studying in libraries. Except... he wasn't sure how to go about speaking to people here, either. You couldn't just walk up and start a conversation. The few times he had tried, he had been pointed towards the topic he had asked about and not been given a second look. It was embarrassing, and he had stormed angrily out of the library a few times too, out of sheer embarrassment.

 

He began to think that there just wasn't another girl like Helene out there. After a year or two of being apart, he had gotten used to the loneliness and gotten somewhat angry about being dumped. This line of thinking had led him to realize that perhaps he was as good-looking as people told him and that the best revenge against Helene would be to try and pick up one of those intolerable bar girls who was at least pretty.

 

The problem was that they all looked alike to Klaus. He hadn't much thought about "pretty" girls during his adolescence since he'd had Leni. Now he found himself at a loss. What made one prettier than another? He assumed that there must be some sort of mental link. Does pretty mean that you would want to have sex with the girl? When he thought about it, Klaus didn't really want to have sex with any of the girls.

 

His mind began working over other possibilities. Maybe... maybe the problem was that he didn't want to have sex with girls, period. Secretly, he visited a bar for men one weekend when he'd taken an overnight trip to Frankfurt. This was even more infuriating, since the men were not acting in a way that men should act, and he left after rejecting one potential suitor. No, he definitely did not want to have sex with any of those men, either.

 

So it really was that he wasn't as shallow as the other men he knew and had to respect a girl in order to let them touch him. And maybe they needed to be a little bit better looking than Helene, though the thought had hurt Klaus at the time.

 

Well, he'd have to wait for another Leni to come along, then. It would have to happen eventually, maybe he just would have to be gentlemanly and open with women in social settings in order not to get off on the wrong foot.

 

*****

 

And so he had gotten used to being lonely.  He hadn’t made a single friend at either officer’s training or at university, and it had hardened his temper and raised his opinion on what was possible, since he used his undirected anger at others and his abundant free time to excel in ways that none of his fellow officers could.  It had gained him several promotions and he was offered a position in the espionage unit at NATO, something that both he and his father could agree was a pretty high achievement at his age.

 

But once there, his temper and demeanor had held him back.  It wasn’t the army, and people at NATO didn’t want to deal with his temper or his unreasonable demands, despite the fact they were continually impressed with what he could achieve.  It made him a good officer, and he landed the position at the head of one of the espionage units fairly quickly, but it became clear to him that he wasn’t going to go anyplace else in the organization if he didn’t learn to play ball and get along with people. 

 

But years of not getting along meant he was out of the habit and viewed people with a certain bitterness.  Why couldn’t he demand what he himself could accomplish out of others?  It didn’t strike him as unreasonable.

 

Whatever.

 

*****

 

The Major had allowed himself the uncharacteristic wool gathering session in response to his father's death. When it came time to finish his studies for the evening, he put his books away, put the photo back where he'd found it, finished his evening exercise routine, and went to bed at midnight on the dot, the same as he always did.

 

The next morning, he opened his eyes at precisely 06:30 to roll over, turn off his alarm... and notice that there was a large vase of Aloe on his night stand with a black armband and a single rose sitting in front of the vase. He swore and jumped out of bed to smash the vase.

 

And then didn't. He lit a cigarette and stared at them instead, sitting on the edge of the bed and puffing silently in his pajamas. The main problem was that they were from that infuriating thief.  Aside from that, the gift had saved him the trouble of getting the vase himself in order to look like he was going through the proper mourning steps. And the degenerate had taken the least embarrassing way he could to send his sympathy. The Major just wished he could do it without breaking into his house. But that was just his way, he supposed.

 

He winced as he thought of going through the awkward social steps when he got to work.  Everyone would try and tell him how sorry they were. He didn’t know what to say to that, and he couldn't very well yell at them to shut up. No, he was going to have to bear it.

 

Right before he left, as an afterthought, he grabbed the black armband and put it on. That had been kind of the thief, too.

 

*****

It was maddening to have to wade good-naturedly through all the sympathy he was offered at the office. It was unlike him, and yet, it was true, he couldn't just brush it off angrily like he wanted to. At least the agents assigned to him had sent G as their spokesman and gotten it all over with at once instead of individually. Kind of them to do that. And it always amused him that they thought he got less angry at G.

 

He wished they could have all just sent flowers and pretended it didn't happen, like some people. That gift had been quite considerate, actually. It was a shame that the thief was the only person that understood his tastes well enough to know he would like that better than anything else. God knew he'd had enough time to figure him out though, the man had been following him around relentlessly for twelve years. If anyone ought to know, it should be him.

 

And after the stroll down memory lane and self-reflection from the night before, it was unfortunate that his thoughts were moving more and more to how the thief considered his feelings more than anyone else. Try as he might, the thought wouldn't go away. He wanted it to.

 

Other people wanted it to, as well, since he was taking it out on them without them being any the wiser.

 

Whatever.

 

*****

 

After about two months, miraculously, his path had not crossed with the nitwit. Well then. He needed to know something. Perhaps it was time to break his routine again.

 

*****

 

"Er. Earl." Bonham said, knocking on the door of the master bedroom early one morning. He banged a few more times, increasingly louder, until he heard a groan from the other side.

 

"Earl. Telephone. You, er... you'll want to be taking the call. It’s from Germany."

 

Bonham heard a thump and a series of footsteps as the Earl ran across to get the extension in the sitting room in the master suite. The man smiled inwardly as his suspicions were confirmed. There really was only one person who could get the Earl out of bed this early.

 

*****

 

"You are late." The major snapped as he saw the blond man stride up the sidewalk in front of their agreed-upon meeting place in downtown London. He frowned as he looked the man up and down. "I asked you to look inconspicuous."

 

"Well, darling, I wore the drabest thing in my wardrobe. Maybe being fashionably late helps it stand out more." The Earl of Gloria flashed the Major a glamorous smile as he straightened the jacket on his well-tailored, but lavender, suit. A look of puzzlement showed briefly on his face, which the Major allowed him since he had only really been about five minutes late.

 

"Waiting has made me hungry. I chose this spot for being in between my hotel room and the airport. This restaurant.”  The Major pointed across the street.  “Can you get us a seat? Or at least get me a bite to eat before I brief you?" The restaurant looked to be a very exclusive and very upscale establishment.

 

The Earl blinked, once again looking puzzled.

 

"You must really be starved, those are words I never thought would leave your mouth." A threatening glare from The Major cut off any more snide remarks that the Earl would have given.

 

"Well. I am a Peer of the Realm. I can get us a seat at any establishment in the city. Except we might have trouble tonight, darling. My attire is not in question, but you aren't looking your best, I'm afraid." The Earl took his turn looking the Major up and down. He had said he was flying into town for the day explicitly to speak to the Earl, fresh from a mission. He looked it. While his overcoat was spotless and impeccably cut, as always, the suit below it was travel-worn and clearly needed to be cleaned. The Major himself was sporting about three days' worth of beard and his hair was a horrible tangle that needed to be washed and brushed.

 

"I am aware of your rank, Eroica. I did not ask about that. I asked if you would be able to feed me at that restaurant. Your title does no good in this situation if we cannot sit down and eat."

 

"Poor dear, that must have been some mission! Well, let me have a talk with them for a minute, I'll see what I can do. Come with me, but stand at the curb while I have a little chat with the garcon." The Earl gestured for the Major to follow him across the street. True to his word, after a few minutes and a few distasteful stares from the garcon, returned by the Major with glowers, the Earl gestured for the man to follow him into the restaurant, bypassing the long line of people waiting outside for their reservations to come up. Though the Major usually didn't allow himself to care about such things, he had to admit he was impressed by the thief's high degree of social graces.

 

He wanted the thief dine with him, and he was quite relieved when he did.  The thief could be irritatingly picky about his food sometimes, he suspected it came from not exercising and a bad diet.  But who wouldn’t eat poorly if… well, that thing was the one who planned his meals?

 

Then he said just enough to needle the man to drink with him. It was a bit easier to talk if both of them had looser tongues. The Major had schooled himself otherwise over the years, but he allowed that he probably needed to be as drunk as possible if he was going to sit through a real meal with the thief. The Earl, for his part, seemed pretty loose after just two drinks. The Major wasn't particularly good at dinner conversation, especially with someone as infuriating as Eroica, so he let the thief do the talking, and thankfully he was on his best behavior. He hoped that he would be since, for as many times as they had wound up working together, he had not often consented to dining with the man.

 

He had to admit that the thief's conversation skills were top-notch. He only pursued subjects that he thought the Major might have an interest in, and the Major gave a few gruff replies to spur him in the right direction. The man had gone to Oxford, after all, so he wasn't completely brainless. Before he knew it, he found that they had finished the meal engrossed in a heated debate about military strategy during the Napoleonic Wars.

 

Leaving the restaurant, the Major led the slightly tipsy and loose-tongued, but still well-behaved, Earl to his hotel room. There, some paintings were waiting, and he needed the Earl to look at them. They were being shipped to a man suspected to be in touch with a group of terrorists, and NATO suspected that the paintings may have been retouched or partially covered over to hide some secret weapons plans or locations, so they had intercepted the paintings enroute. Eroica was the only expert they could ask at short notice that they could explain the situation to and trust to keep his mouth closed.

 

Well, that's what the Major had told him that morning, anyway.

 

*****

 

The Major retrieved the packages containing the paintings at the front desk and brought the thief up to his hotel room. He did a thorough room check before opening a bottle of brandy and pouring himself and the Earl a glass. The Earl took it and downed the glass silently while watching the Major unwrap the five paintings and set them up for him to inspect.

 

"Oh! What marvelous Reubens!" The Earl exclaimed. "I know you don’t care for them, but they really are beautiful."

 

"I am surprised they are to your taste. They look like fat naked women to me."

 

The Earl cut a glare in the Major's direction. "It is easy to predict what you think of them, but they are still marvelous paintings. His technique really is first-rate. The Caravaggio, however, is more to my liking. As you may have guessed."

 

"Yes, yes." The Major rolled his eyes as the Earl's attention fixed on a painting of a young man in a pose of supplication, a bare shoulder creeping out from his collar. He had been expecting that.

 

"And let's see... these last two are... Titan and van Eyck? Am I correct? I am not much of an appraiser, you know, it's strange that you asked me to do this. I don't recognize any of these paintings, either, they are rather marvelous."

 

The Major turned his attention back to refilling their brandy glasses. He had gone to a great deal of trouble to find an art collector who had uncatalogued paintings so that the thief wouldn't recognize any of the works and be able to catch him in the lie.

 

"As I said, you were the best we could do on short notice. The names you mentioned match the list that NATO gave me. Will you be able to tell if they've been tampered with recently?" asked the Major, handing the thief a full glass of brandy.

 

"I am no rank amateur. I will be able to tell if they've had modern technique layered on top, yes, just give me a little bit to study each one. It would be a true tragedy if any of these had been spoiled in that way."

 

There was silence for several minutes as the Earl studied the first painting. The Major wanted him to keep talking, but he didn't really want to listen to the diatribe about art.

 

Well, he would give it a try.

 

"So, what are you looking for, then?" he asked gruffly.

 

The Earl laughed lightly, clearly two sheets to the wind. "Well, darling, how unlike you to take an interest!"

 

The Major rolled his eyes again. "You do not have to explain if it will require you to gloat as well."

 

"No, no, forgive me. Well, let's look at Titan. He was quite good with his color, as you can tell, and certain pigments were natural back then and the fading is difficult to duplicate in modern times..."

 

The Major did find it difficult to listen, but was also impressed with the amount of detail and the professionalism the Earl took with the job, especially since he found himself consuming the larger portion of the bottle of brandy. He got through all five paintings before collapsing in a chair.

 

"Major! If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were trying to get me drunk! If you wanted to lower my inhibitions, all you had to do was ask and we..."

 

"No!" The Major cut him off. "If you cannot accept common courtesy like a human being, I will remember not to give it in the future!" The flirting really was infuriating. And the thief had done so well tonight, too. Well, maybe he really wasn't to blame since he had plied him with so much alcohol.

 

"Sorry, sorry, darling, I was trying to be on my best behavior tonight. It looks like you haven't slept or eaten in days, I didn't want to wind you up any more than usual." The Earl put his face in his hands. "I do say, I am going to have to call my men soon and have them come back down from Castle Gloria to fetch me.  I'm really in no shape to get home otherwise tonight. I didn't realize I'd been having so much."

 

The corner of the Major's mouth twitched up. "Yes. I forgot you are... not good at drinking?"

 

"A lightweight, alas. I'm sorry again."

 

"Yes. Well. Give me time to wrap these paintings and we will hire a cab to take us to the airport and I will retrieve the car I rented there. I doubt very much your men are going to want to rouse themselves to come pick you up in your state at this hour."

 

The Earl’s eyelids were beginning to drop.  He forced them open as he pushed himself up in the chair.  “Hm?  I’m… sorry, Major, you know my ears always strain to hear anything you say, but… I’m having a little trouble understanding you right now.”  His speech had slowed some time ago, and the slurring was beginning to make him hard to understand.

 

The Major frowned, most of that last line lost on him.  The two always spoke in their native languages to one another, a habit that had started as soon as their eyes had met.  Seeing the flamboyant Earl in his house for the first time had angered him a great deal, so he hadn’t extended the courtesy of addressing his guest in English as he would have normally done.  Since the Major had been rude, he supposed the thief hadn’t been inclined to speak in German, either.  Both men were fluent, so it didn’t make much difference, and it had become a contest, in a way, to trip each other up over the years.

 

Normally when one or the other stumbled enough to admit they couldn’t understand, bragging was involved, along with a long-winded and embarrassing juvenile explanation.  The Major didn’t have the heart tonight, so he switched to English and repeated himself.

 

“English!  Good God, what have I done to deserve that?!  It’s… been so long since I’ve heard you… you know.”  The Earl’s head was dropping, and then he sat up again when the meaning of the words sank in.  "Heavens! Two in the morning! When… did it get to be that late? I had… had not been aware of the time all evening. Well… I… appreciate the lift, darling, though you know… I'm always willing to keep you company all night, if you like."

 

"Degenerate." The Major spat out half-heartedly as he set himself to re-wrapping the paintings. He took his time about it. The Earl dozed off at some point while sitting in the chair.

 

The major left him to shower, shave, and change. The part about being hungry and not sleeping for days had been true, and he had hated having to sit down for dinner as... well, ripe as he was. But after this mission was the best time to put his plan to the test.

 

Klaus grudgingly admitted to himself that the thief had passed the test tonight with flying colors. He had enjoyed himself, and it had been at least a little amusing to break his routine.

 

The Major emerged from the bathroom to find that the thief had not stirred. Well, this was more problematic. He lit a cigarette and set about his task. He shook the thief to try and rouse him, but there seemed to be no chance of that. He was out for the evening, and the Major really would feel badly about calling Bonham to the hotel at this hour.  It did him little good to anger Bonham, since he enjoyed bossing the man around on missions when the opportunity arose.  He had no idea how Eroica kept such a man in his employ, when NATO had problems finding competent spies among all the best and brightest various government agencies had to offer.

 

The Major, severely irked both at the thief for getting so drunk and at himself for allowing it, thought about slugging him or dousing him with cold water in order to get him up and out. He did have to catch an early flight tomorrow, and the hour was much later than he planned.

 

Instead, he sighed and began removing the Earl's shoes. He prayed silently as he removed the suit and the sparse jewelry the man was wearing that the Earl would not wake, because there really was no way out of the situation. He stripped the Earl down to his boxers and undershirt, then set him on one half of the large double bed.

 

At somewhat of a loss since he had not packed sleeping clothes for this mission, he stripped down to boxers himself and said another prayer that the thief would not wake up tonight.

 

He examined the situation. He didn't feel embarrassed or shy, just a little annoyed and not much else. Well, he could live with that. Anything else and the thief would have been deposited unceremoniously back in the chair.

 

Even so. He took a large pillow and set it between them on the bed.

 

"Stay on your side of the bed! Do not cross this line!" He barked halfheartedly. He looked at the comatose thief, prayed he didn't toss at night like Lawrence, and then turned off the bedside lamp, sang himself a nursery rhyme, and was out like a light.

 

He woke promptly at 6:30 that morning to find that the thief had not stirred, nor had he crossed the line. The Major smiled to himself and went about his routine. The thief didn't wake during his exercises or his second shower, thank God. He set everything in the room in order, grabbed his case and the paintings, took a last look at the thief, and locked the door behind him, on his way to take the first flight to Bonn from Heathrow.

 

*****

The thief woke late that morning moaning and clutching his head. For God's sake, what had he gotten up to last night? He groped around next to him in the bed until he found the night stand with what he was looking for: a bottle of vodka. He winced, since he didn't especially like drinking it straight, but hair of the dog was in order before anything else this morning.

 

He sat up while rubbing his temples, taking in his surroundings and trying to remember. He had... what? Nothing was registering in his memory. He had no idea where he was.

 

"Bonham? James?" He called tentatively, the sound of his voice hurting his ears. He sat for another minute or so trying to remember, becoming increasingly alarmed when he couldn't. His brain was shutting something out, and that was never good. He turned to the table for the vodka again and found an envelope he had missed earlier. Addressed to Eroica. Had he been working last night? That was even more alarming.

 

He tore open the envelope and saw a check flutter out from a folded piece of paper. He stared down dumbly at the check for a minute, not taking it in, then squinted at the paper.

 

"I am to use the rest of the funds from this mission to pay you for your consultation. The check is from my NATO account. Please do not let "it" call. Your assistance was appreciated, as always. - KHVDE"

 

He read it over several times, his brain not allowing him to put the pieces together. He took another drink of the strong vodka, the headache finally beginning to abate.

 

There was... just too much that didn't make sense. Did the Major ask to meet him in front of that restaurant because he was hungry? Did he want to eat with the Earl? Why the pleasant dinner? Why all the drinking? Why couldn't they just meet in front of the hotel, or look at the paintings without the dinner and niceties?

 

Well, if he was remembering right, the evening had been quite nice. The Major had been downright decent. He had been on his best behavior, though, and he was glad it didn't go unnoticed. He made a mental note to try that more often.

 

But... what happened after the paintings? Why was he in his underwear in bed? When, and what, had happened, exactly?

 

Well, he knew exactly what had happened. He had made a fool of himself and drank too much. His dulled brain wouldn't even allow him the pleasant fantasy of anything extraordinary coming from being stripped to his underwear. It wasn’t fair.

 

But it also made him wonder why the Major hadn't thrown him in a cold shower, or just left him in the chair. And it made him wonder where the Major had slept that evening, too. He did allow himself that indulgence, and made a mental note to call Lawrence to brag within the next day or so.

 

And... was that a thank you at the end of the note? Waking up with a hangover in his underwear in the Major's bed with a thank-you note ranked fairly high on his list of fantasies, he had to admit, even through the pounding at his temples.

 

*****

 

While trying to evaluate the women at the clubs for the best-looking, the Major had honed his skills for sizing up women and comparing their features. He evaluated everything - three sizes, height, feature proportions and the shape of the face, hair color... nothing seemed to particularly grab him, even after tirelessly and silently evaluating what must have been thousands of women. He had been relieved when all the time he thought to be wasted had come in handy while trying to identify targets on missions.

 

But it didn't help that he couldn't figure out what features, and in what combination, seemed to appeal the most to certain groups of men.  While he didn’t find anything particularly pleasing to the eye, his skills did come in handy since seduction was a tactic used frequently in order to obtain information, and any agent foolish enough to try it on Iron Klaus usually found themselves the ones giving up information. Perhaps, had he found being "picked up" anything other than appalling, there may have been occasions where he would have fallen for the trick. The persistence of the female in question was usually what tipped the Major off that they were an enemy agent.

 

Not having any particular lustful thoughts also helped set a good example for his men. While he knew he was hard on them, and they found him terrifying, he also knew that they did look up to him since he kept himself to the standards he was constantly trying to impress upon them. And really, couldn't they try harder? Well, they were mostly good German boys, anyway. But sometimes they asked too many questions.

 

The Major and his men were on a mission in Greece. Some Russian's floozies had tried to pick him up the night before. The trap couldn't have been more obvious, since they made no secret of the fact that they were the agent's women. They thought an awful lot of themselves, and capturing them had been a triumph. The aftermath, and explaining to the agents what had happened, was always a little harder to deal with in these situations.

 

"I'm not sure how you do it, sir." Agent A said quietly, while the three of them were waiting for enemy activity in a building they were staking out. "When you invited those women to your room, I thought, well, you know..."

 

"Agent A, are you questioning my abilities?" the Major had snapped, not paying attention since he assumed the men knew that something like that wouldn't put a mission in jeopardy.

 

"No sir, it's just that... they were beautiful."

 

Wait… not questioning his abilities, but wondering how he resisted?  This made the Major mentally stumble. Were they really so beautiful that the men thought they would distract him from the mission? Had it really been such a feat this time?  He thought about the best way to respond.

 

"There are plenty of German cars that perform well, no need to drive a foreign make. Furthermore, Greece has the highest petrol prices in Europe." There, a metaphor should dodge the question and put it to rest rather nicely.

 

He watched A and B out of the corner of his eye. They gave each other a confused look. B shook his head. That hadn't been quite right then. Oh well. He put it out of his mind as he saw the woman he was looking for enter the room through the scope of his sniper rifle.

 

*****

 

Months later, after returning from a rather long mission that had required all of his agents and had, surprisingly, not been interrupted by meddling art thieves, the Major found himself reflecting on the absence of the thief in question as he sat down to another night by himself studying languages.

 

The thief did come in handy just as often as he complicated things. He also always seemed to get himself out of any trouble he found himself in, though sometimes it had been close. It hadn't been necessary to speak to each other to make their intentions known in those situations, but the Major lit a cigarette and considered some unpleasant possibilities involving civilians, especially known NATO contract civilians, making their way into enemy hands.

 

His eyes landed on the bookcase that contained his language books. An amusing possibility occurred to him. He selected two books from his shelf, then tried to recall where his old school books had been stored.

 

He silently hoped he would never have to find out how subtle a hint the thief could take. He also prayed the test would never come in front of very old-fashioned and religious Neo-Nazis.

 

*****

 

The Earl studied the package that had arrived in the mail just this afternoon. The postmark had been Swedish, and while he hoped for an admirer from his recent travels, the contents of the package weren't... anything he expected.

 

The books were all in German, and two seemed to be books describing a religious dialect called Plautdietsch at length, while the other three were very old handwriting books teaching Sutterlinschrift, an extremely illegible script, to what seemed like a grade school audience. No note, name, or explanation had been offered inside the package.

 

There was really only one German that Eroica fancied receiving gifts from, though he admitted to himself that there were several that might send him something. Especially something as impersonal as this, though he allowed himself the fantasy that this was exactly the type of thing his Iron Klaus was in the habit of gifting. The postmark, though...

 

Well, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he supposed.

 

*****

 

"YOU IDIOT!"

 

"Well, darling, you know I couldn't stay away for long. And I just couldn't resist this magnificent harp."

 

Of course. Somehow, just like they always did, while secretly breaking into the residence of a known terrorist, he had run into the thief. Stealing the harp that had the names of every agent in this particular plot to blow up the American embassy in Skopje hidden in its frame. It had taken all his self-control to wait until he was out of the not-very-large domicile, with the Earl carrying the harp, in order to lay into that infuriating man. The gun couldn't wait, since he felt better with it out when he was in his worst moods, though that never seemed to scare the Earl.

 

"Give me that harp, you degenerate! I don't care what kind of priceless heirloom you claim it is this time, I need nothing less than the harp itself. You. May. Not. Have. It."

 

"Well, as you can see, I have already acquired it. And I always take what I want."

 

The Major stormed up to the thief, shoved the gun directly under his chin, and pulled the hammer back.

 

A line from an old movie danced rather inappropriately through the thief's mind at the moment, and a joke about luck died on his lips as he looked up into the Major's eyes. Well, he was serious this time. Would he "blow his head clean off his shoulders?" Probably not. All the same, better safe than sorry.

 

But then again.

 

"What can you offer me that's more delightful than this harp, darling? I take what I want, so why should I give this up unless there's something better?"

 

The Major's face somehow turned a few more shades of purple, and the Earl felt the gun twitching ever-so-slightly as it buried deeper into his chin. His courage left him for a few seconds as he feared the Major just wasn't going to get the joke this time. But then the Major's eyes widened and he pulled the gun away from the Earl and turned his back on the man.

 

"Yes, yes, whatever. The Man in Purple. It is yours. My father is no longer alive to appreciate it, and you have given me enough headaches about it. I will send it to Castle Gloria as soon as I reach Bonn. I will be happy to get it out of my house." The Major looked over his shoulder and smirked.

 

The Earl could tell the man thought he was killing two birds with one stone. He thought about taking the man up on his delightful offer. After all, The Man in Purple would be much easier to admire than this golden harp, well-wrought thought it was.

 

"Well, I can't say I'm not delighted. That's certainly a fair trade. But I had something a little different in mind."

 

The Major frowned, though the Earl noted with some relief that he didn't snap. "What?"

 

"Well, you remember that lovely dinner we had a while back? I wouldn't mind trying that again. I had a wonderful time, and I had hoped you did as well. You can choose the place, the city, anything you want." The Earl looked down at the ground as he asked, afraid that looking up at the man would make the request seem less genuine. He braced himself for a solid round of curses anyway.

 

"Scheisse! How many times have I told you?! Keep your hands off me, you bloody pervert!"

 

"No, no, nothing like that. There would be no touching." The Earl bit back the usual flirting he would have indulged in after that statement. "Just a nice dinner. Maybe a drink afterward. I thought we were both decent enough last time that it might not be such a bad idea to try again. You have my word that I won't provoke you to anger like I always do when we run into each other." The Earl glanced up at the Major, who once again had his back to him. "I don't really want to force you. Major, I just thought... well. The Man in Purple would be a sufficient trade for the harp, anyway."

 

There was a full minute of thick silence between the two. Suddenly, the Major turned on his heel and unexpectedly snatched the harp out of the thief's hands. "You are a perpetual thorn in my side! You will meet me in three days' time in Rotterdam, at the northeast corner of Park Zestienhoven at 20:00. If you tell anyone, or if I even think you told someone, you will not wake up the next morning. Do not tell a single person you even met me here tonight! Do you understand?"

 

The Earl broke into a smile, snapped to attention, and saluted. "Jawohl, Major!"

 

The Major scowled and stomped out of the room, grumbling. "Bloody nuisance. I should make you carry this to my men, anyway. I feel like a degenerate just holding this thing."

 

He slammed the door of the shed they had ducked into and left the Earl by himself.

 

Well, that had gone much better than he could have hoped.

 

*****

 

The Earl was pleased with the way the evening was proceeding. The Major had known a lovely place in Rotterdam for some reason, which the Earl had not questioned. Probing for topics of conversation that the Major would enjoy, the Earl moved back to ancient history and found that, mysteriously, the Major knew quite a bit about ancient civilizations, so the two had speculated about and discussed Aztec and Olmec culture with surprising depth most of the evening, right up to the Spanish conquest. The Earl had drunk considerably less this time. He had also managed to bite back all of his usual barbed comments, and he noticed the Major had made an effort on more than one occasion to do the same himself.

 

The Earl felt rather comfortable having an evening out with the Major like this. He hoped the feeling had been reciprocated, especially since he hadn't seen the man so relaxed... well, ever. Of course, they didn't often meet under relaxing circumstances, but the Earl suspected that nights out like this were not frequently enjoyed by the Major. They had come to a pleasant lull in the conversation, so the Earl drew courage by draining his glass and decided to ask, hoping that a personal question wouldn't ruin the evening.

 

"Major, I just have to know. What do you and your men talk about when you come back from a mission like this?"

 

The Major's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

 

Well, damn. At least he had waited until they were finished with their meal.

 

The Earl made a wide gesture with his hand. "Well, I assume you occasionally treat your men to outings such as this. My men and I live together, and all have similar interests that bring us closer. I'm sure you can imagine. But aside from NATO, what do you have in common with your men?" The Earl paused, seeing that the Major was still trying to consider the question. "Well, it's just that, I suppose from watching you work, it was hard for me to imagine you unwinding like this. Just curious how your men react in this situation."

 

The Major brought his mug up and took a long drink, then set it down.

 

"I'm... I'm sorry if I've spoiled the evening. I didn't mean to ask a personal question. I didn't think it would matter too much. I was just curious, I suppose."

 

The Major blinked. "No. It is not an unfair question. I... do not entertain my men like this often. When I do, we go out in a large group and I usually do not speak. The men enjoy themselves, and I treat them. That is all."

 

The Earl was taken aback with the civil answer. He wasn't sure if he should probe further or leave well enough alone. He knew that much more pushing would leave the major unwilling to ever be convinced to come out to another evening like this. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to negotiate another evening anyway, and he was curious.

 

"That is an easy scenario to picture, and I must confess, I would have a harder time imagining you having one of these nights out with me, were I not sitting here right now. As I said though, I'm curious how you unwind in your sparse time away from work. Do you have a sports club you attend? Or a group of friends you see socially?"

 

The Major's eyes darkened. He didn't answer immediately, but locked eyes with the thief for a long time.

 

"No. I do not have time for such things. And you ask too many questions. It is late, and I need to go to work tomorrow morning." The Major began pushing his chair back from the table and rising.

 

The Earl frowned. "Are you driving back to Bonn at this hour? I apologize, I thought you were staying overnight or I wouldn't have kept you."

 

The Major smirked, and visibly stifled a snide comment. "No. I am aware of the time, I had planned on getting back home late this evening." He waited until the Earl had risen from the table, then began leading the way out of the restaurant.

 

When the pair got outside, the Major turned back and regarded the Earl silently. The Earl felt uncomfortable, and decided to break the silence first.

 

"Well, Major, I must say I had a wonderful time this evening." The Earl smiled broadly and offered his hand. "I do have nights where I unwind with my men, but none of them are as knowledgeable about ancient civilizations and military campaigns as you are. The experience was unique and a pleasure."

 

The Major looked down at the Earl's hand briefly, then decided to take it, offering a firm handshake. It felt strange, but also a proper way to end the evening.

 

"It was a good talk." He broke the handshake, turned, and began walking away. He paused after a few seconds and turned. "I will contact you if a mission arises in the future."

 

The Earl smiled. Well, he supposed it was once again more than he could hope for. "I hope it comes up soon, darling. You can call me any time, even if there is no mission." He decided he'd been good enough for one evening and blew the Major a kiss. "Good luck!"

 

The Major reddened, turned, and began walking away again. The Earl knew that the "Idiot!" he heard was not a figment of his imagination.

 

*****

The Major had to admit the thief could be well-behaved when he wanted to be. Over the course of the following six months, through bartering and wheedling during their inevitable clashes on missions, the thief had managed to wring three more dinners out of him. Though the circumstances that led to him relenting had been infuriating, all three of the actual meals had been downright decent, and the Major had begun asking about the Earl's work. The Earl had no problems letting him know whatever he wanted, which surprised him. It was also surprising, though it really shouldn't have been, just how organized the thief's affairs really were.

 

So. Now that he knew the thief could act like a regular human being, did he encourage him? Klaus considered his options as he took a long drag on his cigarette during his evening drive home.

 

He decided to send the thief a better hint than his last missive. The timing would be perfect, too.

 

*****

 

The Earl blinked his eyes open as the morning sun spilled over him in his bed. He stretched and felt the texture of the silk sheets against his skin. July 28th. It was wonderful to be alive, though he didn't exactly relish the extra year piled on his age. Then again, this last year had offered him more fruits than his labors had ever borne over the twelve years he had been after his prey. He allowed himself some indulgent thoughts before he sat up in bed and swung his legs around to stand up.

 

He stopped cold. On his nightstand was a single English rose. This wasn't entirely unremarkable, since it was the type of thing that one of his men could have left while he was sleeping, though it would be rather bold of anyone but James to come into his bedroom.

 

This rose was wrapped in a steel wire. With it was an envelope with the Eberbach seal on the back. The Earl broke the seal and read the letter.

 

"I decided to try something you yourself often do. I have told my chef to expect a guest for dinner tonight. Do not expect more than I can give. Herzlichen Gluckwunsch zum Geburtstag. - KHVDE"

 

For the second time in twelve months, the Earl found himself waking up in a bed where the Major had been the night before, wearing only his underwear, and with a note to show for it. He once again allowed his mind to get carried away with a fantasy. But just for a moment. There were a lot of things to do if he was going to be in Germany that evening.

 

 

*****

 

The Major was not surprised to see the Earl waiting for him at the door of his castle when he returned home from work. He scowled as he got out of his Mercedes and approached the door.

 

"Was the door such a work of art that you had to stand out and admire it instead of waiting inside like a proper guest?" the Major huffed angrily, pushing past the Earl, but nonetheless holding the door open for him so that the Earl could enter before him.

 

"Well, if you must know, yes. Not that I would expect you to know the doors of your own house, but you appear to have a prototype for La Porte de l'Enfer serving as your entrance. It is amusing, to say the least, but perhaps you might have an inkling as to how something so French wound up on your castle?"

 

The Major frowned as he followed the thief down the hall and lit a cigarette. The Gates of Hell? Well, it would explain why anyone he'd invited over in the past 30 years had seemed inherently terrified when they met him inside.

 

It was amusing, and the Major gruffly admitted that aloud, adding the detail about his terrified guests. The Earl found it far funnier than he had.

 

"My grandfather's father was a bit of a degenerate and a Gallophile. I have heard that he acquired many things for the castle and had a residence in Fontainbleau."

 

"Curious. Your art collection is mostly Dutch and Flemish. The few French painters you have... they are Mannerists, Rococo, and Barbizon painters, nothing that indicated an interest in Rodin's contemporaries."

 

"I don't know. Maybe they were considered degenerate artists."

 

The Earl snorted. "Aren't they all degenerate artists to you? Perhaps the Eberbach line after the collector all bore a strong resemblance to you."

 

The Major took offense, though he couldn't exactly blame the thief. He switched to English briefly. "No, you misunderstand. Entartete Kunst. Our collection is large enough that it is catalogued by the Government. It would have been searched."

 

"Oh." An awkward silence followed. Well, none of the paintings in the Major's castle appeared to be less than 200 years old. It would make more sense if the Nazis had confiscated the more recent items.

 

The Major switched back to German in an attempt to add some normalcy to the conversation. "Do not worry. It is all the same to me. I am surprised you would notice such a thing. I had not heard of the house being searched for the art, but I heard enough stories of my grandfather to know that, if you are right about there being no French paintings here, it is because they were taken before the war."

 

Mercifully, they had reached the dining room, which had been laid out with two settings and a full meal.

 

"Oh, you got a new set of Messien china! It looks lovely. I'm surprised you're letting me eat off of it, or even see it at all." The Earl said without thinking. He winced as soon as the words left his mouth.

 

"IDIOT! If you have designs on my dishes, you can leave right now! Will you please not act like a degenerate thief for one night?!"

 

"But Major, it's my birthday. Am I not allowed one slip of the tongue? I promise I'll be good the rest of the night. Really. I... do not have designs on your dishes." Though they would make for a marvelous birthday present. The Earl bowed and took his seat at the table.

 

"Very well." The Major made an effort to reign in his temper as the butler uncovered the first course of the meal. The Earl took a sip of wine and once again took control of the conversation.

 

*****

 

The night passed more quickly than the Major would have thought possible. He and the thief had sat at the dinner table for several hours, simply talking about traveling and the positives and negatives of each destination they had in common. Their interests didn't often intersect, but both had held control of their personalities well enough that major fights did not break out. The Earl had once again had a bit too much to drink, but the Major didn't really hold that against him. After they had left the table, the Earl had expressed interest in seeing the castle grounds. He held his tongue about it being late, and led the Earl to the stables.

 

"Oh? Are we taking the tour on horseback? How quaint." The Earl had said, without much emotion in his voice.

 

"The grounds are too large to tour on foot, and the paths aren't meant for cars." The Major shrugged. "I thought an English Lord would know how to ride a horse. Perhaps I was mistaken?"

 

"Hardly." The Earl shot the Major a withering glare. "I've ridden horses since I was a young boy. I just don't care for them. They are filthy, hard to take care of, and temperamental. Though I do occasionally enjoy a good ride. It's hard to argue with the romantic image of horseback riding." The Earl had a wistful look on his face.

 

The Major rolled his eyes but held his tongue and reminded himself it was the Earl's birthday. He considered it his gift to the Earl to not get into an argument about how much the man loved himself.

 

"No, I agree about horses. We used to have a full stable, but I sold most of the animals when my father moved to Switzerland. He was the one who loved horses. We keep only two now for the rare visits from my father. Though I suppose I could sell these last two off now. I hadn't thought of them in years until just now." The Major paused as he fumbled with the door in the dark. "It was how my father died, falling off a horse. He was an idiot, riding a horse at his age, but it was probably what he would have wanted. Better than dying in your sleep or because of some disease that only kills old men." The Major had unlocked the door and let the Earl in, flipping the electric light on the wall on as he entered.

 

The stables were well-maintained by a man that the Major employed for just that purpose. It was wasteful, paying someone to take care of animals that he didn't even want, but it had been necessary while his father was still alive. He truly hadn't thought about them since the funeral. He would have to make arrangements next week to let the caretaker go and sell the horses. Perhaps he could convince whoever bought them to employ the caretaker as well.

 

The two men approached the only two occupied stalls in the vast and old-fashioned building. The Major's face reddened. The Earl and Major gazed up at two Lipizzaner stallions that stood over 16 hands high.

 

"Er. Didn't your father hunt and take leisure on these? I have to admit, I could not ask for a more romantic beast to take a tour of your castle on, but... they are a little intimidating."

 

"My father raised horses. His best horses would retire to the main castle from the show circuit. This breed was his favorite. He trained them to hunt and ride as well, but yes. They are a little... decadent. It's been a long time since I've thought about them out here." The Major admitted.

 

"Well, it makes sense these were his favorites. They are majestic creatures, and the Lipizzan breed is credited to the Hapsburgs back in the 16th century."

 

The Major hadn't known that. He wondered why his father had never mentioned it all those years he tried to beat equestrian appreciation into him.

 

He led the two horses from their stalls to saddle them. The Earl followed and watched him select the saddles and bridles from the tack room, and then helped by saddling his own horse. The Major opened the door out to the grounds while the Earl swung up a little unsteadily into his saddle. He mounted and followed the Earl out the door on the rather docile creature.

 

The two rode in silence for about two miles, watching the moon shift across the sky through the trees. It was full tonight, and it lent a silvery light to the forest as the two men rode through it. The Major offered no commentary for the castle grounds, trusting the Earl to take whatever he wanted from the ride.

 

The sound of running water entered the edges of the Major's range of hearing, and suddenly feeling a little bored, he spurred his mount into a fast trot and took off towards the creek that ran north through the thinning woods, leaving the startled Earl in his wake. Well, it was that thief's fault if he couldn't keep up, though he did feel a little bad leaving a drunk man on a large horse in the middle of the woods. All the same, he was sure the thief could take care of himself, and wouldn't begrudge him the walk through the woods. It was the sort of thing the degenerate would enjoy, anyway.

 

Much to the Major's surprise, the Earl passed him on his own horse. Worse still, the damn thief was using the hohe schule aids and was overtaking him with a passage trot. He couldn't believe the thief was using the decadent style for the ride. And it was his horse! Well, this wouldn't stand. He changed his horse's gait to a canter, and executed two flying lead changes as he overtook the thief at the new pace.

 

The contest escalated, with each going faster and faster while trying to execute as many upper-level dressage movements as possible. The Major had steered them in the direction of a relative clearing in the woods, but as the contest escalated, he led them back down to the creek. He knew there were certain things the thief just wouldn't know how to do.

 

He dropped the show moves and let the horse take a relatively fast gallop to the creek. Then he slowed it down and had it execute a series of slow courbette before taking it across the small creek with a magnificent capriole. He finished the maneuver with a pirouette and stared smugly at the Earl, who had stopped and was watching silently from a distance. Then, incredibly, the Earl brought his horse into a levade and somehow managed a sweeping bow from the saddle.

 

"I concede, Major. These are magnificent horses your father reared. It's clear that he had high hopes for you as well, since it's not just anyone that can bring the best out of a horse like that."

 

"Yes. I think he was the most disappointed in me when he finally realized I hated the horses. I had to go through a lot of training before that as a young boy, though." He paused, regarding the Earl. "It is not just anyone that can make a Lipizzan execute the hohe schule movements."

 

"It is as you said, I am an English Lord, and I certainly know how to handle myself on a horse." The Earl smiled archly. The Major scowled and turned his back, resuming their slow pace through the forest again. The two were silent for several more minutes, and then the Earl began speaking once again.

 

"My father was quite a horseman as well. He wasn't a breeder, but he spared no expense acquiring show horses and a couple trainers that could raise them on the castle grounds. He loved taking them to shows and bringing people to the castle that would enjoy riding them. It was the only interest I couldn't share with him. I think it broke his heart too, when he finally realized I hated riding so much."

 

The Major made no reply. Silence sat between them for several minutes, both men seemingly enjoying the other's silent company through the woods.

 

"There was a young stallion he had purchased once, named Borogoves. A Cleveland Bay. It was one of the largest creatures I'd ever seen. Magnificent. He was so proud of it, and I remember just how much he talked about that horse before and after buying it. Cleveland Bays are quite rare. He sold a good portion of our art collection to pay for it, he was absolutely thrilled for the opportunity to purchase him. Borogoves was quite ill-tempered, unfortunately, but my father was looking forward to training that out of him. After about two weeks, Borogoves threw my father and trampled him to death."

 

Something twisted in the Major's stomach. He didn't really want to hear this story, mostly because he didn't know how one responded to these things. But something in him was glad the Earl was telling him, all the same. He wished he'd had the opportunity to offer wordless sympathy as the Earl had done for his father's death. There was another pause while the Major considered how to handle the situation, but the Earl continued the story before he had decided.

 

"I had just started at Oxford the week before, and had gotten into a terrible row with my father since the horse had meant I couldn't purchase a new wardrobe for school." The Earl paused again, briefly. "I came back to North Downs for his funeral. As soon as I got out of the car, I went to the shed where the hunting equipment was stored, grabbed a rifle, and shot Borogoves through the head. I think that was the only shot I've ever made in my life." The Earl smiled sadly at the memory.

 

The Major was even less sure what to say, but tried anyway. "You and your father parted on unfriendly terms before you went to Oxford?"

 

"Yes, but I know he didn't take that fight very seriously. He knew how angry it would make me, and he and I both knew the anger would pass as soon as I had someone distracting me from my snit. I don't really feel that badly about that. But even dead, he would never forgive me for killing that horse."

 

"That is nothing, then. I would have done the same thing."

 

"Did you do the same thing?" The Earl had ridden up alongside the Major and looked over, catching his eyes. The Earl's eyes were very blue, even in the moonlight, and the Major had to look away to answer.

 

"No, I did not go to Lucerne to kill my father's horse. But the situation was different. He was not thrown by a temperamental stallion. He should not have been riding at his age. And he was probably happy with a death like that, as I said before."

 

The Earl sighed. "Well, I suppose you're right, it's not quite the same. But the similarities are a bit eerie, wouldn't you say?"

 

The Major gave a halfhearted smirk in the darkness that the Earl couldn't see. "In a way." He could allow for that.

 

The two were silent for several more minutes, both men lost in memories. Then something occurred to the Major.

 

"So, your first act as Earl was dropping rare show stallion? I have never had the honor of killing such a creature myself."

 

The Earl laughed aloud, a genuine laugh of pleasure that filled the evening and dissipated the depressing mood the two had worked themselves into. "Dropping that horrible horse is still one of the most satisfying things I've ever done."

 

Then, catching the Major's eye once again, the Earl pushed his horse into a trot and pulled ahead of the Major and into an open field overgrown with wild grass. The Major followed, matching him pace for pace and act for act. Admittedly, the two men didn't have to lead the horses through it, since they'd been trained to match the showy motions of one another. Still, the perfect pax de deux was a rare treat, and the Major and Earl rode through the act that night while only the moon and stars looked on.

 

*****

 

As the two were leaving the stables, the Earl fell a few paces behind the Major, who was still taking his usual brisque pace even at the early hour.

 

"Major..." The Earl paused, reluctant to ask his question. "I don't want to ruin the evening by asking, but it would be simply marvelous to end my birthday by watching the sun rise." He paused, and then rushed in before the Major could answer. "Perhaps you could show me the best spot in the castle gardens to watch?"

 

The Major looked to the west, where he saw the sky beginning to gray. He was quiet for a long moment.

 

"From the roof. There is a small pavilion on the west tower." Absolutely no hint of his emotion showed, which worried the Earl. He was quiet as the silent Major led him through the vast castle and up the stairs to the top of the west tower.

 

They reached the steps and the Major pushed open the wooden door leading to the stone roof. He stopped a few paces from the door, and the Earl followed his gaze to the adorable pavilion. He thought at first he was perhaps considering leaving the Earl by himself, which would have been perfectly all right. The Earl would be able to find his way home after the sun rose.

 

But then the Earl's heart sank. The pavilion had been constructed with a roof and one open side around a stone table and stone benches. Its east side had been left open, probably for the sunset, but the other three sides had been closed in, likely to keep the glare off the group that chose to dine there. You couldn't watch the sunrise from the pavilion. Sitting on the ground was also out since the battements were too tall to see the landscape over. The Earl sighed.

 

"Well, it was a nice idea. I must thank you for showing me all the way here. Perhaps I will just choose a spot in the garden. The Earl turned around and began to walk back through the doorway.

 

"Idiot. There is no reason you can't watch from here." Without looking at the Earl, the Major cut across the tower in several strides, then hoisted himself up on top of the battlements. He crouched down and looked over sternly at the Earl.

 

Quickly, the Earl covered the distance between them and took the Major's offered hand in order to pull himself up on top of the wall. They were sitting in a low spot between two higher walls, and the Major had hung his legs over the edge of the castle. The Earl looked down. It was several hundred feet to the garden, but as he looked out across the scene, he realized why the Major had insisted on this vantage point.

 

The castle's garden swept out grandly on this side of the grounds, with winding, decorative paths into the woods. He could see the trees covering the gently rolling hills receding in the distance, and the sky turning a dull pink between two peaks miles away. He sighed happily, but didn't say anything, knowing that even the most pleasant ruminations on the scene would spoil the Major's mood.

 

The Major, for his part, was wondering why he paid someone so much to keep his grounds looking like that. What did it really matter? He supposed it looked good when he had official functions at the castle. It wouldn't do to have the gardens overgrown. But really, what a waste of money. Maybe he would have the garden reduced and converted into something more self-sufficient, then dismiss his two regular groundskeepers when he got rid of the horses.

 

He let his thoughts wander back to the horses. Well, perhaps he would keep them around a little longer. It was nice to have them if someone wanted to tour the grounds, he had to admit. He snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye at the contented thief. And the visitors seemed to enjoy the gardens, too. Whatever.

 

After about an hour, the sky had turned several shades of red and purple. The Earl watched happily as he saw a few deer walk up to the creek that wound out of the woods and drink as they took in the gardens. The Earl wondered if it looked as magnificent to them as it did to him. He stole a glance over at the silent Major, curious as to how the man had tolerated such a "decadent" natural spectacle all this time. The sun wasn't even up yet, but he hoped the Major wouldn't get bored and wander off before then.

 

He looked in amazement as he saw that the Major had fallen asleep leaning against the battlement wall. He marveled that the man could fall asleep with his legs dangling several hundred feet above the ground, and next to a "known degenerate." He allowed himself a smile and bit back all the barbs that came to his lips, not wanting to spoil the moment for the world.

 

Well, maybe he would spoil it just a little. He leaned his head of golden curls against the Major's shoulder. Happily, this did not wake him. The Earl frowned a little, since he thought it strange that the Spymaster wouldn't wake with the slightest disturbance, but took the opportunity anyway.

 

*****

 

The Major's eyes snapped open promptly at 06:30 with the rays of the morning sun beating down on him. He nearly started when he realized he wasn't in a bed, then nearly started again when he noticed that starting wasn't good when one was sitting on the battlements of a castle. His memories of the previous night came back to him almost before he noticed that the Earl had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder. A tide of irritation washed over him briefly, then he let it subside and sat for a minute or so, considering the thief. He noticed the thief hadn't tried to put his arm around him, or hold his hand, or lay across his lap. Perhaps he had just fallen asleep. Even if he hadn't, this really was well-behaved for Eroica.

 

The Major still needed to be at work that morning. He considered leaving the thief stretched across the battlement, but realized that it had probably been a miracle neither had fallen off sleeping there for even a couple hours. Sighing, he took the sleeping Earl in his arms and jumped down to land silently on the roof of the tower ten feet below the battlement. He looked down at the Earl to see how soundly he had been sleeping, saw that he hadn't stirred, then carried him into the castle.

 

*****

 

The Earl stirred at the edge of sleep, allowing himself to languish in bed just a bit longer. He sat up suddenly when he realized that the sheets he was laying on weren't silk, and then the previous night came back to him. He smiled.

 

Lovely. Just lovely. It was likely the best birthday he had ever celebrated. It almost made up for the fact he had turned 37. He then reminded himself that he was merely turning 26 again, and went across the room to put his clothes from the night before on. As he was dressing, he looked over and noticed it was 11:00. Damn, he hadn't planned on falling asleep, and there was no chance that the Major had arrived late to work this morning, let alone that he would still be abed at this hour.

 

And, well, the castle just wasn't as fun without the Major in it. He debated sneaking out the window of the bedroom and disappearing mysteriously into the day, but decided it would be cruel to the butler. He sighed and made his way to the guest room to excuse himself.

 

But, ah, a night with Iron Klaus. Really, what a wonderful birthday present!

 

*****

Well, the old bat had really gone and done it. The Major rubbed his temples as he walked away from the Chief's office, irritated by his new mission. He hated the circus surrounding the royals of any country, but England was the worst. Still, he had to admit, in some part of his mind, that he had been flattered by the mission. The threat was terrorists in general, and Neo-Nazis in particular, taking advantage of the country's moment of weakness in order to allegedly kidnap the queen and make a list of demands.

 

Schiesse. What an embarrassment. But he knew the threat well, and also knew his team could deal with the Neo-Nazis.

 

It was everyone else he was going to have to deal with that was giving him the headache.

 

He burst through the door of his unit's office.

 

"Men! At attention!" He barked, standing just inside the door, the fury clearly visible on his face.

 

Twenty-six men around the room stood up from their desks and snapped to attention, saluting the Major. The Major took a few seconds to admire their discipline. Even after all these years, they were still terrified of him. It helped.

 

"J!" he yelled, "What is the biggest news you've heard over the past 24 hours?"

 

"That... that's the death of Princess Victoria, sir!"

 

"Correct! There will be several large state functions in England over the next several days. All the royals and nobility will be attending, in addition to large numbers of mourners. It is a perfect terrorist target, and we have received intelligence that indicates that Neo-Nazis attempt to kill or kidnap most of the immediate members of the royal family, possibly during the private funeral ceremony. We are flying to England this afternoon. All of us. We will be canvassing any and all locations before, during, and after all events relating to the funeral. It will be two weeks before the scheduled events run their course."

 

The Major paused in the middle of his issue.

 

"We... we will be working with the SIS to ensure that everything runs smoothly."

 

Agent M groaned aloud before laying eyes on the major and snapping back to attention. The Major made an effort not to smirk. He had always liked M, and it was because he was nearly as bad as the Major at keeping his thoughts in check.

 

"The Neo-Nazis have been reorganizing in recent years, and they have been waiting for just such a major event to let their presence be known again. The old bat picked a rather inconvenient time to die. They are not the only group involved in the terrorist plans, but the SIS will handle the rest. You are familiar with the heads of the Neo-Nazi terrorists, be looking for them and any known consorts. Any questions?"

 

The room was silent.

 

"At ease. Do what must be done. We are leaving from Koln-Bonn at 15:00."

 

The Major stormed past them into his office and slammed the door. There was a phone call he was dreading, but he waited a minute while he eavesdropped on his agents. It had always been sad that they were Germany's finest intelligence team, since for all their years of experience, the spies had never quite learned that the Major could hear them through his office door.

 

C was the first to break the silence. "Covering all events for the funeral? It really will take all of us. Can you even imagine how many services are going to be held in every church in England?"

 

"Do you really think we'll have to cover all the church services, too? Isn't the terrorist target the royals themselves?"

 

"Probably, but some of us are still going to be walking around to every church."

 

"Say, I wonder how we're going to get into the funeral? As far as I know, not even the Queen's guards are allowed in. Royals and Peers only."

 

Klaus temper rose as he heard the agents get right to the heart of what was bothering him. Agent G's voice cut through the others.

 

"Oh, I know a certain Earl that would love to invite the Major to the funeral, I bet."

 

The room went silent. The Major rolled his eyes as he could feel twenty-six pairs of eyes slide to his office door and the room holding its breath.

 

"You really think so?"

 

"How else are we going to get in there?"

 

"Well, that's true, but how are the Neo-Nazis going to get into the service if not even we can?"

 

"Yeah, but we can get in, so maybe they can too."

 

"Well, yes."

 

"Hey, did the Major really just call the Queen of England's sister an old bat? She was only 48, the same age as the Major."

 

The twenty-six agents simultaneously fought to contain heart attacks as the Major's office door slammed open.

 

"You bloody idiots will find yourselves in Alaska unless you get your bloody feet moving right now!" The Major bellowed from his office. All the men were gone from the room before he could even blink. If nothing else, they certainly had gotten a lot faster over the years.

 

The Major sighed and lit a cigarette, then went back over to his desk and stared at his phone. He hadn't spoken to the thief since his birthday a month ago. Well, he bloody hoped he had a good time, because he really needed this.

 

*****

 

The Major pulled up to the thief's castle and got out of his Mercedes. He eyed the limousine parked in front of the door as he walked into the castle. He stopped short in his tracks as he laid eyes on the Earl of Gloria, waiting for him in the front hallway of his castle.

 

The thief was dressed like a proper man, something that took the Major a few minutes to get used to. He had an impeccably cut tuxedo, black jacket with a gold chain an gold and diamond buttons and cufflinks decorating it, with the Coat of Arms of House Gloria on a medal pinned to the front. Underneath was a white satin vest and a white silk shirt with an elaborately ruffled lace collar. His tie was blue velvet that matched his eyes perfectly.  The lack of colors in the tuxedo set off his golden curls far more than the outrageous things the Earl usually wore. Today the Earl had his curls tamed and tied back with a blue velvet ribbon that matched his tie. On top of the tuxedo was a red robe with a white mantle pinned around the Earl's neck. He had a jeweled, ornamental sword belted at his waist, and on his head was a coronet.  He carried a pearl-handled cane in his right hand.

 

The ensemble suited the man more than any of the other outfits the Major had seen him in over the years.

 

The Earl would have smirked at the over-long attentions the Major was lavishing on him, but he was taken aback by the Major's appearance himself. He had worn his dress uniform, with the tailored gray jacket over dark pants with the Major's usual impeccable crease.  A navy-colored beret sat atop his head with NATO and Operative Information badges pinned to it.  The Major's rank was displayed on his shoulder and lapels, with the patch symbolizing the German military on his upper sleeve.  He had several ribbon bar medals and a single NATO medal pinned to his left side, with a single medal displaying the Eberbach Coat of Arms on his right side.  He also had a sword belted around his waist with an ornamental buckle.  He wore white gloves on his hands.  The gray jacket set off the gray-green of his eyes, and his hair fell impossibly straight and dark to his shoulders.  Even with one of the most stressful professions in the world and close to 50 years under his belt, the Major showed not one strand of gray hair anywhere on his head.  The Major was the only person he would ever forgive for that haircut, as awful as it was, the Earl couldn't imagine him looking nearly as gorgeous with any other style.  The soft, unreadable expression on his face was also something that was extremely uncharacteristic of Iron Klaus, who almost always scowled when he saw the Earl.

 

"I must say, the Bundeswehr uniforms in full dress cuts an impressive figure.  It's been ages since I've seen you wear anything but your suit to work."

 

The Major bit his tongue halfheartedly.  He didn't feel the usual anger over the comment on his appearance.  Possibly because he was thinking the same thing about the Earl. 

 

The Earl took advantage of the half-second of silence. "You are highly decorated, Major von dem Eberbach.  What are all your medals for?"

 

"Good grades."  The Major hurriedly changed the subject and switched languages.  >"Are you really wearing all that to the funeral?  I thought you only wore such things to a coronation."<

 

The Earl frowned. "Well, no, but we all do anyway since there's not a lot of occasions to dust off the family jewels. And you were the one who sent me that package from Sweden with the German books in it."

 

>"Yes, of course it was me. Do you know a lot of people who would send you German textbooks?"<

 

"No, it was just puzzling since my mysterious benefactor failed to leave me a note explaining his intentions."

 

>"If I had left a note, you would have been in Germany the same day you got it, pestering me in my office."<

 

"True." The Earl got a wistful look on his face. "Thank you for the gift anyway, Major, unexpected presents from you are always appreciated, you know."

 

>"Whatever. I see you've been studying them?"<

 

"Yes. I didn't know who sent them, but I went through them anyway. I do love a good mystery. And now it's coming in handy."

 

>"Right. Did you really go all the way through all the books? Can you speak the language, too?"<

 

The Earl hesitated.

 

>"Yes, but not good. I had no practice except in the book. Makes learning hard. I'm embarrassed to talk without knowing... better words."<

 

The Major couldn't help but laugh. The Earl turned red.

 

"Forget it, then! I just can't bring myself to use a language I can't make myself absolutely known in. I'll listen to you use it until I'm comfortable."

 

>"No. You will speak it as well. I do not want others to overhear our conversation."<

 

>"Neo-Nazis speak German too... er, wife."<

 

The Major laughed again at the Earl's halfhearted efforts to trigger his temper in the foreign tongue. >"Don't bother trying that. Neo-Nazis speak German, but not even many native German speakers understand Plautdietsch. It's an extremely old form of German. It is more or less exclusive to Mennonites and a few isolated religious communities. You won't be able to flirt at all with this language."< The Major looked triumphant, then laughed one more time at the cross look the Earl was giving him.

 

"Spoilsport!" >"Well, I will use it. I do not like you much for it."<

 

>"That's fine."< The Major grinned broadly. He had won this round.

 

The Earl smirked as he followed the uniformed Major out to the limo. He let the small victory pass. He would have his own when they got to the funeral.

 

*****

The Earl had held firm to the Major's gloved hand after he had helped the man out of the limousine. The Major did everything short of calling attention by yanking his arm away. His face got red as he attempted to hold his anger in check while the English Nobility climbed the steps on either side of them. The pair came to a stop.

 

>"What do you think you are doing, thief?"< The Major asked, hissing below his breath and trying to look as expressionless as possible.

 

>"You know how hard it is to get here today. Nobody except Nobleman and one guest are allowed this service. Not even guards once inside the door. Even NATO, with enemies inside, could not get the Major in. You are my one guest. My mother and sister both asked. But I brought you. One guest is usually the wife. You will act like it here."<

 

>"I WILL DO NO SUCH THING."< The Major began losing his temper, then gained it again, putting his hand to the Earl's face and whispering in his ear when a handful of people stared at them.

 

>"Under no circumstances, not even the threat of World War III, will I pretend to be your partner. Do you understand?"<  The Major was hissing rather loudly in the Earl's ear, hoping that his head and still voluminous hair hid the expression on his face from those walking by.

 

>"I do not think it much. You will hold hands. You will maybe hug, and sometimes touch on shoulder or arm and look sad. I can say that we will not kiss or do other things in front of the Queen and her dead sister. I am using your language. Do this for me."< Here the Earl grabbed the Major's face and gently turned it so that they were looking eye to eye. "Bitte."

 

The Major looked away from the thief's eyes, even while he still had a firm grip on his face. He considered it, and thought about how he felt. It wasn't even that what the Earl was asking made him angry. He realized he was angry because that bloody wanker had won a victory over him. The Major took a step or two away from the Earl and swore under his breath for several minutes in German while the two stood out on the steps. When he was finished, the Earl regarded him with an amused expression.

 

"Are we back to using our native languages, then?"

 

>"No."< The Major put his arm out for the Earl to take and let the anger over the victory pass. >"Let me know who you do and do not recognize when we get inside. Introduce me to as many people as you can."<

 

>"Good. Are you Mr. Schmidt today?"< The Earl asked, taking the Major's arm and continuing the ascent up the staircase.

 

>"No. Use my real name. I have reason to be here today outside of work, and it will be useful to see reactions if anyone is an undercover Neo-Nazi that recognizes me."< The Major held the door open for the Earl at the top of the steps and let the Earl pass through.

 

The Earl paused in the doorway. >"Really?  It does not bother you to be introduced to the Queen and all the Lords as... as my partner? They will remember. I only meant to have fun a little bit when I said that."<

 

The Major shrugged and a disinterested expression crossed his face as he put his hand to the Earl's back and pushed him the rest of the way through the door. >"It is unfortunate, but most of the espionage community already thinks that we are partners. Aside from them, what do I care what the English think of me? It's not important. These people will not... date me."< The Major said, groping for the proper finish to the thought.

 

The Earl stopped in his tracks again and stared in wonder at the Major. >"So it is not that you are afraid of being thought of as a man who likes a man?"<

 

>"No, I don't care about that. Why would you think that mattered to me?"< The Major asked, genuinely puzzled as they approached the gathering room that stood before the main cathedral hall.

 

It was the Earl's turn to look angry. His eyes flashed as he looked at the Major. >"Because you have been..."<  he paused, switching to whispered Russian. "Rejecting my advances for 12 years!  How could I not think you were homophobic?!"

 

The Major's eyebrows raised, impressed at the thief's complete fluency in the language. >"Well, that is different. I do not like to be picked up. Especially so vigorously. And you are a nuisance who always seems to make my missions harder. Why was I supposed to like you?"<

 

The Earl, incensed, continued in Russian. "Why were you supposed to like me? Because I love you! I love you, and I have ever since we met! Surely after a year or so, it ceased to be a pick-up, Major."

 

>"Every flirtatious remark that comes out of your mouth is offensive to me. And it took me longer than a year to get used to it. I am still not used to it when I encounter it in the middle of a mission, Eroica."<  The major's tone shifted, and he moved his eyes from the thief to the doorway where the nobles were gathering.

 

The Earl's anger abated. He kept his face still, then broke into a dazzling smile, took the Major's proffered arm, and began walking with him to the doorway. >"Well, I am the one who is shamed, now. It took me longer to know you than you to know me."<

 

>"Does this mean the flirting stops?"<

 

>"No. I like that. It is fun. You take your fun in other ways."<

 

>"Then we will only speak to each other in Plautdietsch. You can't flirt this way."<

 

>"This is what I mean when I say you take your fun. But I will use the language, if it is what partners use together."< The Earl looked over at him and gave him a lecherous stare as they stepped into the hall filled with the English Aristocracy.

 

 

*****

 

Damn. Plautdietsch could only stop the flirting for so long.

 

Whatever. The Major's mind switched back into mission mode as someone caught the Earl's attention as the pair entered the room. They made their way over to the Duke for a round of introductions.

 

 

*****

 

The Earl's mind was only half on the Duke's introduction to the Major as he mulled over the conversation the pair had just had.

 

So the Major... was what? Was he gay? Is that what he was trying to say? That he hadn't given the Earl the time of day all these years because the sin of picking up Iron Klaus was unforgivable? The Earl couldn't help but flirt. It was fun, and it was even more fun to see the Major fly off in a blind rage over it.

 

His thoughts darkened a bit. But... well, yes. The Major had been a lot more kind to him the past year or so. And that went back... how far? To... well, when was it... around the time his father had died? Yes, they'd had dinner not long after that, and the Earl had held his tongue. So had the Major.

 

Several things clicked into place.

 

And they'd had dinner several times after that. Both men had kept from needling the other. Well, they'd kept the needling to a minimum, anyway. He smiled at the memories, especially that fabulous meal and horseback riding through the Eberback estate.

 

And now, this, which the Major would have never agreed to before. He wouldn't have even consented to going to the funeral with the Earl, let alone act like they were lovers.

 

The Earl chuckled inwardly. What a shy boy! Well, the Earl knew where he stood now, at least. Let's see where a little more pushing got him.

 

*****

 

The funeral ceremony was beginning to disperse. The Earl had taken some liberties with the Major during their socializing and during the funeral itself. Not too much. He noted that there wasn't much resistance or reprimand, though he noticed that the Major only reciprocated once or twice. Well, that's fine. He's in full German military dress. Certainly the Peerage would get that he might be a conservative lover.

 

He was privately disappointed that the Major seemed to have his eye on a Marchioness. The poor girl had nearly jumped out of her skin when he'd introduced her to Major Klaus Hinz von dem Eberbach. The Earl had know the Marquess, but the man hadn't been married as far as he'd known. After the Major had urged him to grill the others in the room, nobody else had known the man was married either, and one friend confided that he was nearly certain that the old lecher had picked the girl up a few nights ago, and that she'd simply begged to be introduced as his wife at a real society function.

 

The Earl couldn't believe that the Marquess had thought to get away with that, since a Marquess wedding would be a society event, but perhaps he thought he could get away with it the same way the Earl was flying under the radar with the Major.

 

When the gathering began to disperse, the Major was out the door and after the flighty woman. Before he could take off, the Earl grabbed the man by the arm.

 

"What?!" He had snapped, angry at the distraction.

 

"Just remember, we have that soire to attend this evening, the one that darling prince invited us to. You will be able to make it, Klaus?"

 

The Major's eyes flashed at the casual use of his first name. He had to admit, however, that it was a perfect opportunity for surveilance, and he could probably sneak a couple of his agents in as well. "Yes, I will be there."

 

He began to pull away. The Earl stopped him by pulling close and whispering in his ear.

 

>"There is something that partners do when they part. It would be strange not to, especially at a function like this."<

 

The Major colored and nearly lost his temper, but a quick look around showed that the thief was right. He attracted attention wherever he went. The women were staring. It would look strange not to.

 

>"Very well.  But for God's sake, make it quick. She's getting into her car."<

 

The Earl watched as the Major turned to face him and flushed crimson. He would have smiled if it hadn't ruined the moment. But still, it wasn't often you saw grown men that particular shade of red. Before the Major had time to regret his consent, the Earl put his hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss. It was deep, but brief. He didn't dare open his mouth, even though he knew it was a little strange not to. He pulled away and whispered >"Go!"< into the Major's ear.

 

The Major turned and walked away, quickly following the car. The traffic was so appalling because of the gawkers for the funeral that the Major would easily be able to follow her on foot until he could radio his agents with her location. His hand was on his sword as he stalked off down the street. The Earl allowed himself a smile. Swords were not part of the German dress uniform, but thank God the guards hadn't know that. They had been searched for guns and other weapons, so it was the only thing that the Major could get into the ceremony in case of trouble. Of course Lord Gloria had his family's sword, gifted by none other than Edward III. It was a cultural treasure and one of only a dozen such ancient weapons that existed among all ranks of the Peerage. It also still worked, and would have been more than sufficient if the Earl had to defend himself or, heaven forbid, the Queen.

 

He sighed as his eyes left the Major's back to stray along the faces in the gathered crowd. The Major was still careless about some things. Turned him down completely when he suggested waiting to come outside with that prince that had invited them in for the evening. The Earl turned to the Papparazzi that were behind the barrier. A tall young man had caught his eye as soon as they had exited the building. The Earl hoped the youth knew how to barter, and straightened the coronet on his head and flashed a winning smile as he walked over.

 

*****

 

The Major showed up at the Earl's castle a half hour before they were to meet the Prince. He had changed into a more casual suit, and looked agitated. The Earl had also changed into tight-fitting white pants with a gray silk shirt. He wore leather shoes and simple silver bracelets on his arms that matched the cross neclace around his neck. His curls were still bound up, this time in a black velvet ribbon. He put a black armband around his upper arm and handed another to the Major.

 

>"Did the chase go well?"<

 

>"No. And that dottering Marquess wasn't invited to this gathering we're attending tonight, either. I think I am wasting my time."<

 

>"No, the Prince doesn’t invite the fossils to his parties. Still, there will be royals there, and the girl didn't hear we were invited. If they want to act bad there, you would stop them."<

 

The corners of the Major's mouth quirked up into the beginnings of a smile. >"Yes, I will stop them from acting bad if worse comes to worse. But G and E are also going, and they could stop things as well. I'm not sure about the men I set on that girl."< He frowned. >"And I meant to ask about that. Why were we invited to a party full of young people? It is very suspicious. Perhaps a trap."<

 

The Earl smirked. >"No, not a trap. The Prince and others think I am 26. This is what I tell them. Because you do not smile and have no lines on your face, you look about 30. The Prince thinks we are young."<

 

The Major made a dissatisfied noise in his throat. >"I still think it might be a trap. We will need to be vigilant."<

 

>"I am always vigilant when you are around. But we will know when we see the men with newspapers and sunglasses that we have been stood up."< The Earl winked at him and walked out to the Lamborghini.

 

>"We will be set up, not stood up, if we see that. And I will have bigger problems if I see KGB agents at that party."<

 

The two men hopped into the car and Dorian made his way to the Prince's residence.

 

*****

 

>"I don't think this party is going anywhere."< The Major stated, surveying the crowd once again looking for any sign of suspicious activity.

 

>"You are right. Normally the parties are better than this."< The Earl shrugged and sipped at his drink. It was truly dreadful. But then again, they had all just come from a funeral, so it wasn't really expected to be lively. He allowed his eyes to stray to the backside of a sweet young man that strolled by. He tried to catch the Earl's eye, but the Earl gave him a gentle brush-off and turned to Klaus.

 

>"That is not what I mean. Are you sure we have spoken to everyone here?"<

 

>"Yes.I had to act a lot nicer with the way you almost knock people over when they come in. It isn't natural."<

 

>"Whatever."< The Major polished off his second glass of brandy, not sure how much more of this party he could take. He lit a cigarette.

 

>"If you're bored, we could try talking about the same thing we were in the church."< The Earl put a hand on the Major's shoulder and stepped in closer.

 

The Major glanced at the hand and briefly let his mind wander back to their earlier conversation. >"Yes, you are right. When did you get so good at Russian?"<

 

The Earl laughed, then answered in Russian. "How long were you dealing with KGB agents, Major? The way I kept running into you, I was worried I really would be dragged through Red Square eventually, and I wanted to know what they said about me while it happened."

 

The Major shrugged. >"You could have just left me alone and not had to learn Russian."<

 

The Earl wasn't going to be deterred from his goal. "And miss out on all those missions with you? Or how about our recent time together?" The Earl paused and looked down, once again hoping that his admission didn't sound insincere. He switched from Russian back to Plautdietsch. >"I will not joke, when we are kind to one another, I enjoy our time much more."< The Earl blushed a little, hoping his hunch about taking a roundabout way would work, and continued. >"This past year, I have found out that you are a friend that is different from all my other friends. I can talk to you about things I can't bring up with other people. I haven't told my men about Borogoves."<

 

The Earl put his hand on the Major's shoulder and looked away.

 

>"I know saying this... is hard, for both of us, but I think... I think it is important that you know I do not only like to make fun. I also like to talk."< He met the Major's eyes. >"Just like a friend. I think if we saw each other for dinner a lot, I would stay away from you and work. It also seems to make you... very kind?"< The Earl switched to English briefly, "Relaxed?" and then continued, >"I think it is good that you do this occasionally."<

 

The Major had turned crimson again and turned his head away from the thief's intense stare. >"Where do you suggest we meet then?"<

 

>"In England? The Lords think we are partners."<

 

The Major smirked a little through his blush. >"You do not mix often with the Peerage because you do not want them finding out you are Eroica. I know it was hard enough to keep the miser away all day, can you do it if you regularly meet with those types?"<

 

The Earl groaned aloud. >"Yes, James would follow and give me away. It is why I told him to go to America during the funeral week. He can't but steal things and be loud, and people would notice and wonder why Earl hangs around with thief."<

 

The Major was silent for a moment. >"Then we can meet in Rotterdam again. Every Saturday evening unless I am away on a mission, and then perhaps a day or so after I get back, if you like. I will... call with a code or signal when I am available but something that your men will not pick up on. Please."< He turned a few steps away from the Earl to speak, embarrassed by what he was saying.

 

The Earl was speechless. >"Yes.  I think I would like that."<

 

There was silence between the two for several minutes. Then the Earl put his hand on the Major's shoulder again and spun him around to face him.

 

>"I do not think there are enemies at this party. It is a bad party, though, and we have been here enough. I will leave before you, since you will leave with your men."< Then, emboldened, the Earl embraced Iron Klaus and gave him another kiss. He took his time about it this time, opening his mouth and probing the Major's lips with his tongue. The Major pulled away without embracing him and gave him a stormy look.

 

"I will see you tomorrow then, at the public service." The Major offered tersely in English.

 

"Yes, darling. Meet me at 09:30. It is a formal event, so wear that marvelous uniform again so that the entire Kingdom will see you at your finest." The Earl winked over his shoulder as he made his way to the Prince to say his goodbyes and towards the exit.

 

The Major stared after him as he made his leave from among the nobles. After a few minutes, it occurred to him to scan the room for E and G.

 

"Sir." G whispered from behind him. The Major nearly jumped out of his skin as the petite agent approached him wearing an ankle-length dark blue silk skirt with a high-collared starched white shirt. He was also made up with extreme skill. The Major wouldn't have allowed the cross-dressing all these years if G hadn't made such a convincing female. E followed him meekly in a suit.

 

"Well?" The Major asked in a low voice. He hadn't expected the agents to be so close. He said a silent mental prayer that he had taught the thief Plautdietsch.

 

>"Nothing suspicious to report, sir."< Agent G answered him. >"No suspicious persons appear to be at this party, and from everyone we've talked to and gossiped with, everyone here is accounted for and well-established in the Peerage."<

 

The Major's face turned ashen. He glanced over at Agent E, who looked confused, and back towards G.

 

>"What are you doing, G?"<

 

The color drained from the agent's face. >"I don't understand, sir, have you located suspicious people here? Why did the Earl leave?"<

 

The Major sighed. Along with being an excellent cross-dresser, Agent G was also unparalleled when it came to chatting up targets for information. In this situation, it was also useful that G could mimic any accent since he could take any other Agent, all with heavy German accents, and make them look like his date to the party. He was relieved that the Agent had confirmed his suspicions about the lack of terrorists, at the very least.

 

>"No, Agent G. I have not located any suspicious persons here tonight. I want to know why you are speaking to me in Plautdietsch."<

 

The Agent's face reddened. >"I heard you speaking it with the Earl and I thought it made for a wonderful undercover language."< He switched to Russian. "Or is this how I was supposed to do it?"

 

The Major put his head in his hands. >"Agent E!  Do you understand what we are talking about?"<

 

The Major had addressed him as Herr E, but after that, the agent had been lost. He feared the Major's temper. "S-sir... could you repeat that? I-I-I don't... I'm not catching what you're s-saying right now." He answered in German.

 

>"Very well. Agent G! What did you hear of my conversation with Eroica?"<

 

>"N-nothing... sir."< The Agent blushed harder and looked down at the ground.

 

>"Be sure to keep it that way. If that changes, you will be in Alaska. Do you understand?"<

 

>"Y-yes, sir. I didn't hear anything you said, sir."<

 

>"Agent G! One more question, but after we leave."<

 

>"Yes, sir!"<

 

He took his face out of his hands and walked up to the Prince, thanked him for the evening, and then began to leave the building.

 

>"Why can you speak Plautdietsch?"<

 

>"They spoke it where I grew up, sir."<

 

>"You grew up in Frankfurt, Agent G."<

 

>"Oh. No."< The Agent steeled himself for punishment, forgetting the fib he had told all those years ago.   >"I grew up near the Swiss border. Er. My family fled the Ukraine with the other Mennonites during the war after the German army came through. Except our group kept going, so we were far enough west at the end of the war that Russia didn't wind up sending us to the Gulag for fleeing the country like they did all the others."< Agent G shrugged his shoulders a little, hoping that he answered the Major's question.

 

>"G. You grew up a Mennonite? A Russian Mennonite?"<

 

>"No! I was born in Germany! My older brothers and sisters were Russian, though."< He switched to Russian. "It made my parents angry when they spoke Russian, so I learned how to do that pretty fast. I didn't fit in on the farm, so as soon as I turned 18 and got my trial month away from the community, I got as far away from there as possible. Joined the army." G shrugged again.

 

The Major shook his head in amazement as the three approached the black Mercedes. His mind wouldn't even let him imagine Agent G in a suit anymore, let alone as a Mennonite.

 

"Schiesse, G. So you are an example of what clean living does to a person?"  The Major had switched back to German.

 

The Agent smiled shyly and switched to Swiss. "No, Major, I would say you are an example of what clean living does to a person. And you have the most delightful accent to your Plautdietsch. And Russian."

 

The Major glowered down at the man as they reached the car. "Agent G, I also speak Swiss, if you had forgotten." The Major replied in the same language.

 

The Agent paled a bit, but answered back. "And your Swiss as well, sir."

 

The Major shook his head as he started the car and continued the conversation in Swiss. "All these years and I never guessed German wasn't your first language."

 

"Well, I did lie when I joined up."

 

The Major glowered at him again.

 

"What? I wasn't going to admit that I was a Mennonite! People would look at me differently."

 

The Major took his eyes off the road to give the agent in the passenger seat a withering look.

 

"Yes, like that!" The agent said triumphantly. "Anyway, I'm good with languages, sir. I can pick up dialects and pronunciations pretty easily. At least in Germanic and Slavic languages. Haven't had much luck with the Latin ones."

 

"A useful skill to have, Agent G." He was quiet for a few minutes, then remembered that there was a third man in the car. He switched to German.

 

"Agent E, how much of that conversation did you follow?"

 

"Er... none, sir."

 

The Major's blood pressure spiked dramatically. "None, Agent E?"

 

"None, sir."

 

"You realize, Agent E, that in order to join NATO, you had to know at least two languages."

 

"I do, sir! German and English!"

 

The Major's temper snapped. "What comes out of your mouth is not the English language, Agent E! Just how many agents on my team do you think cannot speak Russian?!"

 

Both of the agents were silent.

 

"T-that was Russian, sir?"

 

The Major jerked the car off the road in order to turn around and address the agent in the back seat.

 

"Agent E. You will be on a special mission when we get back to Bonn. You will fly to Siberia. And then you will walk across Russia. All of it. When you come back out on this side, you had BETTER BLOODY WELL SPEAK THE LANGUAGE. Are we clear about this?!"

 

"Yes, sir!" The agent snapped to attention, then deflated in the backseat when the car started moving again.

 

 

*****

 

Agent G was pleased with himself. He'd almost received a compliment from the Major. And he hadn't been chewed out even once for dressing up tonight! The Major seemed to be a lot less uptight lately.

 

Well, if you ignore the fact he'd just assigned an agent to walk across the Russian continent.

 

Perhaps that had something to do with the Earl. Agent G couldn't believe that the Major had been meeting the Earl for dinner for months. None of the Agents suspected!

 

Well, almost none. Agent B owed him 100 Euros. He knew that delightful Earl would win eventually.

 

*****

 

The Major kept his eyes on the road while he tried not to strangle Agent E in the back of the car.

 

Schiesse. No wonder he preferred Agent G. The others really were morons. A shame it had taken him so long to have a conversation with the man.

 

He lit a cigarette and pondered his lot in life.

 

*****

 

 

He lit a cigarette the following Saturday as he waited in front of the park, their agreed-upon meeting place after he had called and sung the first few bars of "het Wilhelmus". He idly wondered if the thief would show up, then realized that the world would probably stop spinning before the thief gave up a dinner with Iron Klaus. He took a drag and thought on that.

 

Their mission the week before had gone well. The false Marchioness had indeed been working with the Neo-Nazis, and his men had followed her straight back to where they had their headquarters during the mourning period. It had been a simple matter of raiding the building the next day, though they still had to attend the events the rest of the two weeks in order to assist the other agencies dealing with other terrorists groups.

 

He exhaled and smiled. He had one of his men tail Agent Lawrence the entire weekend and report if he ever got within three blocks of the Major. He had been in England two weeks, working with the SIS, and not had to even lay eyes on Agent Lawrence. It was cause for a celebration.

 

His eyes landed on the thief, approaching hurriedly from a block away. He supposed that's what he was doing here tonight, anyway.

 

*****

 

The Earl laughed out loud. >"Really? G is such a clever boy. Working as a NATO spy for 15 years under a false identity."<

 

>"No! Had he been a spy from another organization, we would have found out sooner. A cross-dresser who was shunned from a religious community is harder to track and less important.<

 

>"But you are still bothered that the lie made it through the system and into your unit."<

 

The Major looked up at the man. Yes, that was exactly the problem with the situation. He didn't acknowledge it, though, just took a long drink from his beer.

 

>"Actually, since you brought up NATO, did you get that package I mailed you?"<

 

The Major set his beer down and stared across the table, expression unreadable.

 

*****

 

"THAT BLOODY WANKER!  DEGENERATE!  IDIOT!  THIEF!"

 

The Major's protests had rung loudly through the office, where 25 agents looked at the door to the Major's private office. B had given him a package moments ago, a plain brown parcel with an English postmark mailed to the Major at work.

 

Well, now they knew who in England had sent a package. The Agents held their breath for several minutes waiting for any hints about what had been in the package.

 

Suddenly, the Major stormed out and left the office. The Agents looked silently from one to another. After a minute had passed, G, the bold one, had stood up and began edging quietly to the office.

 

Suddenly, the main door to the department slammed open. The Major was holding a hammer in one hand and had the fist of his other hand clenched.

 

"NO! I... I was just handing in my report, sir! Here! Here, take it!" The panicked Agent G said, cowering and holding out a thick stack of papers to the Major.

 

The Major looked at him, then rushed past him into the office, returning to the door a few minutes later. The Major's body blocked the door as a few minutes of furious pounding commenced, all agents watching in silent horror, Agent G frozen in place several feet away, still holding out his report.

 

The Major finished, and then stepped away from the door. He turned to the room and smiled. "The Earl of Gloria has sent us some photos to remember the mission by. I hung them on my door here because I enjoy them so much, so that we can remember that mission fondly every time we see the photo. He then went back into his office and slammed the door.

 

Simultaneously, the agents silently sprang from their desk and crowded around the door to the Major's office, all pushing for a better look.

 

There were two photos, both in elaborate frames. One had been taken by a professional photographer at the funeral itself. Presumably professional portraits were taken whenever full ceremonial dress was required, since the occasions were not frequent. The Major had objected to the photo, but it would have looked suspicious not to have it taken. It was he and the Earl side by side, the Earl in that tuxedo and the coronet and mantle, the Major in full dress uniform. Both the Earl and the photographer had insisted that the Major take the Earl's arm, since he was the one with the title. The Earl was smiling, the Major simply looked dour.

 

The second photo was at the same event, judging by the clothes, but it was out on the street. The Earl had one hand on his coronet and the other arm around the Major's neck, and had pulled the man in for a rather intimate-looking kiss. The Major's eyes were closed, his face a wooden mask, his hands down on his sides.

 

*****

 

>"Yes, I did receive them. I hung them in my office."< The Major offered the same smile that he'd offered his men when he'd hung the photos.

 

*****

 

Before anyone could blink, all the Agents had taken their seats back at their desks. They stared straight ahead, their faces like that of condemned men.

 

They were the most terrifying photos the agents had ever seen.

 

*****

 

The Earl looked up from his meal, pausing with a tomato speared on his fork in midair. He stared at the Major.

 

>"I think you are telling a joke."<

 

>"When have I ever joked?"<

 

The Earl paled, realizing that it was very likely the Major was telling the truth.

 

"I must admit, that was better than I hoped. I thought you would just throw them out. I'm glad you enjoyed them enough to admire them from your office."

 

>"Yes. It's the best place for my agents to admire them, after all."< The man continued to smile. The Earl was deeply unsettled.

 

The Major stopped smiling as he thought about the pictures on his door. >"By the way, where did that other picture come from? The one taken outside. Did you set me up for that with one of your men beforehand?"< The glare he gave the Earl threatened to make the blond man combust on the spot.

 

The Earl smiled and took a minute to chew his tomato before answering. >"No, that wasn't me. I told you to wait to come out with a Prince. The street was lined with writers and picture-takers. They wanted anything about that event. Coming out with a Prince, nobody would notice an Earl. An Earl running out with a man dressed in German military uniform before anyone else? Very interesting. I saw a man looking at us as soon as we left. He took some pictures of us on the street. He also waited and took a picture when we kissed."<

 

The Major's glare went from dangerous to deadly. >"So you asked for that when you knew there was someone watching us?!"<

 

The Earl's eyes widened as he realized the Major was thinking about it all wrong. >"No, no!  That wasn't why I asked! It would have been strange for partners to part from such an event not together, but to part without saying goodbye? Even stranger. And with photos, the man could have been approached."< The Earl grew more confident as he saw the ice leave the Major's stare. >"I just asked him after you left. At worst, we would have been on the society writings, but it is still not what you want, right? It would have been avoided if we had left when I said."< The Earl finished poutily.

 

The Major snorted. >"And why did he give you those pictures when you asked him?"<

 

>"I just told him my name. He had just started his job and didn't recognize my face, only that I was an Earl from the way I was dressed. When he didn't recognize my name from the list of people he needed to watch, I told him nobody wanted to hear about me since I didn't go with the others."< The Earl thought about pausing there, but then continued on with the story. >"I also told him that I had been chasing you for years, and that you'd only recently relented to my charms, and I wanted the photo to commemorate our first kiss. He sympathized with my love."<

 

The Major decided not to respond to that remark. He kept his face blank and drained his beer, and then changed the subject.

 

*****

Several months later, the Major found himself in Ankara. He was on a mission to intercept an agent that had defected to NATO and was handing over the location of several secret weapon storage facilities across Europe to a radical group headquartered in Syria. It was straightforward, but important, and he hadn't let the agent out of his sight over the past three days. 

 

He looked through his binoculars into the agent's hotel room across the street. It felt a little indecent, really, especially since the agent he was trailing was a woman. Well, it was her fault for not closing the curtains, anyway.

 

She was still in bed at this early hour, so while the Major watched, he let his mind wander without taking his eyes off her. And really, it was that thief's fault for having hair like a woman's anyway. What self-respecting man goes around with long, blond curls like an enemy agent, anyway?

 

His hair and his bloody irritating habits. He could hear the voice running through his head unbidden. "Ankara, one of the oldest cities in the world, has 3,500 years of history, and its location both on the silk road and generally on the borders of several important kingdoms in the past and present has made it a melting pot of both Eastern and Western culture. It has gone through several name changes and cultural masters over the millennia, and was called home by the Hittites, Greeks, Romans, Phyrgian, Byzantines, and Ottomans over the years. One might call it the capitol of Anatolia, though it has never had that name." And then he might prattle on about...  well... some art thing or other. The Roman temple, maybe. 

 

The Major had to admit the thief had proven himself trustworthy in the weeks that they had been meeting together, and he hadn't interfered with his missions one time since they began their regular appointments. While the Major couldn't divulge information about his missions, the thief would readily admit targets he had been planning, and the Major would let him know what cities to stay clear of in the near future. This had also saved the thief some trouble in at least one instance, when he would have been caught when a country had been locked down in the middle of a terrorist action.

 

And it was nice to have someone to talk to, the Major admitted to himself. He imagined the thief's laugh when he admitted the briefing for Ankara had been running through his head in the thief's voice.

 

The sound of a gun being cocked behind his head brought the Major out of his admittedly foppish reverie. Silently cursing the thief again, he put his hands up and slowly turned around to see two Turkish men behind him.

 

"Iron Klaus of NATO. A rare honor to meet a living legend like you."

 

The Major kept his expression blank, wandering what had happened to the agents he had stationed as the overnight watch in the hotel lobby. The two men regarded him for a minute, then continued.

 

"Right. You're coming with us, Major von dem Eberbach. You, search him before we leave."

 

The man who was not pointing a gun at the Major came over and began patting him down. The Major took his chance while the man was crouched at his legs, reached down, and threw the man into the one with the gun. A single shot was fired as the man went down. The Major had enough time to grab his magnum from the side table, clap on the silencer, and then fire two shots to disable the men and flee out the door of the room.

 

He was really going to lay into C and B when he saw them in the lobby. Lazy sods. They probably fell asleep again.

 

He turned and took a few running steps into the hallway, but then slowed and stopped when he saw a dozen men on either side of the door.

 

Well, the odds weren't in his favor. They probably wouldn't kill him though, so maybe it was a good idea to do some evening right now.

 

He managed to unload all four of his bullets into agents and took out two more in hand-to-hand combat before he was overpowered and knocked across the back of the head.

 

*****

 

When the Major came to, he found himself tied very tightly in a chair. A headache threatened to split his temples, and as his vision cleared, he found himself in a dimly lit basement room. Looking to either side, it seemed pretty large, but he had been set facing the wall, so he could not see behind him.

 

"Ah, the Major has come around. It looks like I won the betting pool, then. I told you he wouldn't be out for more than an hour after a knock like that. It takes more than 26 men to bring Iron Klaus down properly."

 

The Major found four sets of hands gripping his arms roughly as his chair was spun around. A large man, flanked by three armed men on either side, stood right in front of him, blocking his view into the rest of the room. He placed silent hopes on his agents stationed for outside surveillance. Perhaps they had seen him taken outside the hotel and would arrive with reinforcements. He decided to stall for time, though he wasn't sure what these men wanted with him. The thought of the agents stationed in the hotel lobby occurred to him again, and he thought asking might be the best way to open conversation.

 

"What happened to my agents?"

 

The man laughed. "The two in the lobby? We weren't successful in finding anyone else, though I'm sure there are others. We've got men still stationed at that hotel looking for disturbances. The two in the lobby, though... well, what happened to them, Mercury?"

 

The Major recognized the agent as the one that had come into his bedroom and cocked the gun behind his head. He'd shot the man through the thigh. He spared a glance at his leg, but couldn't see any visible signs of a wound through his pants. The man must be tough, not to have to walk with a crutch after taking a hit like that.

 

Mercury noticed the Major glance at his leg, and he smirked. "Well, I was a bit quieter about them than I was the Major, but they didn't fare any better because of it. Those men were too trusting. We told them we were Greek tourists and asked if they could point us in the direction of the airport. They came out into the street with us." Mercury gestured over to the left side of the room.

 

The Major was glad he had been sitting down. He could keep the look off his face, but he wasn't sure he could have kept the weakness of the shock out of his legs had he been standing. B and C had been shot execution-style through the head and were sitting propped against the wall, expressionless eyes and looks of shock permanently fixed on their faces. 

 

The Major's stomach rolled. They hadn't been spotted! Both he and the agents had kept an eye out for suspicious intelligence activity. Not even the Major had noticed any tails or plants at either of the hotels!

 

He turned his head from the men and looked back at the leader, fury on his face.  Fifteen years he'd been in charge of his unit, and hadn't lost a single man. Skill and luck had always been with them. The two men had been good agents, for as much as the Major had complained, and he trusted them with his life on a regular basis. They just couldn't be replaced. Not their lives or their place on his team.

 

He managed to keep his voice even. "So, you have me. Certainly you are one of the contacts for Sargeant Connor? She has your information. What could you want with either me or my men now that you have what you're looking for?"

 

The leader laughed again. "No, Sargeant Connor was never one of us. I'm glad to see our ruse worked so well. We had one of our men seduce her over the past year and ask for elopement recently. She, of course, rushed here to meet him, and it was easy to plant information in her absence to make her look like a double-agent taking a suspicious leave of absence and fleeing to Turkey. We were actually looking for the top Spymaster that NATO would send to collect a double-agent. We were hoping for one of three agents, but I have to admit, you were at the top of my list."

 

The Major kept his expression blank as he let the news sink in. So they had been set up. Well, that explains why everything had been so easy. If they were looking for him, though, they hadn't needed to kill B and C. He was relieved to hear that the rest of his men weren't in danger. He prayed for their safety in coming here all the harder.

 

"So. You have me here. Was there something you wanted to ask?" The Major smiled up at the man benevolently.

 

The man got angry and whipped the butt of his rifle against the Major's jaw, rattling the brains in his head. The Major spat blood and stared back with the same smile.

 

"Of course. We need the information that Seargeant Connor was supposedly bringing. Any resistance needs weapons, after all. And only a top agent would know the location of all the wonderful toys NATO must have stored all over Europe."

 

The Major stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, of course! Let me tell you right away! I am more than willing to arm a group of terrorists with the entire strength of the NATO military in exchange for my life! You lot had me pegged right."

 

This earned him a more vigorous pistol-whipping.

 

"Well, I suppose it was more than we could have hoped that the sight of your dead men would rattle Iron Klaus's pride enough to sing. And, quite frankly, I am more than sure torture won't work on you. So we did a little bit of research. We thought capturing your men would work, but after we killed these two, we couldn't find any more. I suppose I can admit that, since I've already said as much. We do have a bit of an insurance policy here today, though."

 

The man and his six guards stepped aside to reveal the rest of the room. The Major's blood ran cold when he saw Dorian Red Gloria, the Earl of Gloria hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, gagged and frightened. His hair was mussed and the red silk trousers he was wearing, his only item of apparel, seemed a little tattered, but he looked otherwise unharmed. The Earl groaned when the Major locked eyes with him.

 

The Major thought quickly, then yelled >"Blink once for yes and twice for no when I ask questions!"< He slurred several German curses before and after the sentence to cover himself.

 

The man smirked. "Well. I see I've gotten a bit more of a reaction to you than I did with your agents. Perhaps this will work quicker than I thought."

 

The Major turned and gave the man a cold smile. "Perhaps you have me confused with a homosexual. Why would you bring this civilian here to try and get information out of me?"

 

The Man laughed again. "The art thief Eroica is known to our organization, and is a known collaborator with Iron Klaus. He is far from a civilian."

 

Well, that hadn't worked. Something else then. "Well, then your organization will know that the art thief Eroica has been dogging my steps and ruining my missions for the past thirteen years. I would stop you if I could, but in all honesty, you would be doing me a favor. Perhaps torturing him will teach him to stay out of my way and stay in England where he won't get caught." The Major was furious. He cut a glare towards the thief, hoping the man caught the question in the statement.

 

Still frightened, the man locked his blue eyes with the Major's. And then blinked twice, very deliberately.

 

Well, then. The maniacs had pulled the Earl from England. Great. From bed, by the looks of it. He wondered what had happened to the Earl's men as he turned and looked at the leader, who was still smirking.

 

"Well, I have to give you a hand for your performance, Major, but I'm afraid I can catch you in the lie this time. You see, we've had reports of what you do on Saturdays in Rotterdam." The Major's stomach turned once again, but he kept his expression blank as the leader continued. "You can see how we might have mistaken you for a homosexual then, since you don't meet with anyone else regularly in secret in other out-of-the-way spots in random European cities."

 

The Major made no response. The leader smirked in triumph and gestured to his men.

 

Two of them approached the Earl with weapons. One held a length of rope in one hand, while the other held a handle with a short length of chain attached to it. There were worse tortures, and the Major noted silently that the Earl hadn't been hung with his hands bound behind his back, a mercy that meant his shoulders were still in their sockets. 

 

The Major locked eyes with the Earl. An understanding passed between them, and a look of resignation passed over the Earl's features. 

 

Major kept his face straight and maintained as much eye contact with the Earl as possible. The Earl performed admirably. The rope was looped around his torso and twisted so that the fibers rubbed against his bare skin. This was done during the pauses in the flogging, which started with his legs and worked up and down his body. The Earl groaned against his gag, but neither he nor the Major offered any words to the group, who remained silent throughout the affair.

 

After an eternity had passed, the Earl lost consciousness and the leader called a halt.

 

"Bah! Iron Klaus indeed! I thought it might not be this easy." He walked up to stand directly in front of the Major and bent down low into his face. "Well, yell if you feel like talking, but I think we'll leave the two of you down here for a few days and see if starvation does anything for you." The man smirked. "Let's see how desperate Iron Klaus can get."

 

The Major, without changing his expression, spat into the man's face. This earned him another crack across the head with the rifle, this blow landing beside his right eye. He could feel blood running down the side of his face as his eye teared and quickly swelled shut.

 

After staring at the Major for another minute, the leader turned and gestured for the six men. As an afterthought, he turned to the last in line at the guard and spoke.

 

"The Earl of Gloria is a vain creature, and most of the beating missed his face, so his pride is still intact. Let's fix that." He pulled a weapon the Major could not see from his belt and handed it to the man. "It appears Eroica hasn't been to a proper barber in awhile, see that he looks like a man when you are done with him." And with that, the leader left the room with his other five men.

 

As the Major watched, the agent cut off all of the unconscious Earl's blond curls. When he was finished, what was left curled tightly to the Earl's scalp, but luckily, the man hadn't drawn blood with the scissors on his head, face, or ears. Throwing a glance at the major, the agent smiled, walked over, and stood behind the Major. He proceeded to relieve the Major of his shoulder-length dark hair in the same way he had done the Earl, except he seemed to be going much closer to the scalp due to the lack of curls. The Major kept his head still, hoping the man would show restraint once again and not physically cut him with the scissors. A bite or head butt would be in order if that happened.

 

The Major was irked by the gall of this man, acting without orders to humiliate him without his leader present. He had always kept his hair long in order to infuriate his Chief. Well, he would die with a hairstyle that lazy sod would approve of, anyway.

 

But, for whatever reason, the agent once again showed restraint. He stood a safe distance in front of the Major, admiring his work, and then without another word, turned around and left the Major with the unconscious Earl, two piles of hair, and the dead bodies of B and C.

 

The Major sighed and hung his head. He had been with NATO for twenty-five years, and he'd never had a mission that went this badly. He had been tortured on several occasions in his youth, usually to make a CO talk, he had been starved and endured beatings and several bullet wounds and swims in lakes at subzero temperatures. But he'd never had to endure watching a civilian be tortured.

 

He swallowed. A civilian and a friend. He realized that perhaps keeping to himself had been a good idea. It kept the loonies away from other people. He glanced up at the thief and realized that he probably hadn't had a chance anyway, since he had tailed the Major relentlessly anyway.

 

He was surprised when he glanced up at the Earl and saw his eyes open. The two stared silently for a moment, and then the Major watched in amazement as the thief bent at the waist and began picking the knots at his wrists with his toes. After several minutes, the thief let his legs drop and the major saw he was holding on to the rope with his hands, then dropped down on the floor.

 

Though the drop was silent, his legs had given out on him and he had collapsed in a heap. His body was covered in horrible welts, his chest was a mess of bloody and alarmingly deep rope burns, and the Major wasn't so optimistic to think that he hadn't received a few broken bones. But his hands and feet had escaped the scourging, and it was lucky that the thieves had underestimated Eroica.

 

The Major didn't dare call attention to the room by speaking, waiting for the thief to collect himself on the floor. After several minutes, he reached up and fumbled with the gag, pulling it over his head and throwing it across the room. Audibly gasping, he crawled slowly across the floor to the Major and pulled himself behind the chair, where he slowly undid the knots that bound the Major's wrist and torso. The Major pulled his hands free, and silently bent down to untie his ankles, nearly passing out from dizziness as the pain in his head intensified from bending over. He waited patiently for his vision to clear, then quickly undid the knots on his chair.

 

He tried to stand, but found his legs were uncharacteristically weak and the floor rushed up to greet his face. He put his hand to the back of his head and face. The wound he'd received when he'd been knocked out at the hotel was still bleeding rather badly, which meant the Major had lost a lot of blood. The wounds on his face where he had been beaten had also bled, but the one at his temple was particularly worrying since blood flowed freely from it and he found he could not force his eye open. He pulled himself up in a sitting position and spun around to regard the Earl.

 

The man laid on the floor, still positioned behind the chair, silently looking at him with a blank expression. Without thinking, the Major pulled himself across the floor and pulled the man close to himself awkwardly. He put one arm under his shoulder, careful not to touch the rope burns on the Ear's back, and held the Earl's head from behind. With the other, he supported the man by gripping his upper arm. He pushed the thief's head onto his shoulder and turned to whisper in his ear.

 

>"I think they are serious about not coming back down. We can rest before escaping, if you need to."< As an afterthought, he glanced down at the watch he was still wearing. 11:00. It had been 07:00 when he had been surprised in his hotel room, and if he had been unconscious for an hour, that meant the thief had endured 3 hours of torture.

 

>"You survived three hours. I would not have been able to untie myself as you did even without the torture. You have saved both our lives."<

 

The Earl reached up and put his hand weakly to the Major's head, turning it and brushing his lips to the Major's ear. The Major colored slightly as the Earl whispered a response into his ear.

 

"I could do nothing less, seeing my beloved Siegfried with his weakness bared to the enemy."

 

>"If you are well enough to flirt, perhaps you are well enough to stand?"<

 

"Not just yet. Give me a few minutes, as long as you think they won't come back."

 

>"No, there are no cameras in this room, so if they intend to starve us, I'm sure they won't bother to check on us every ten minutes. Take all the time you need."<

 

The Earl wrapped his arm around the Major's shoulder and pulled himself into a proper sitting position, though still with his head against the Major's shoulder. They were silent for several minutes.

 

>"How long have they kept you hostage?"<

 

"I don't know. A long time, I think." The Earl answered weakly. "I went to bed... Monday, and they woke me up sometime during the night in my bedroom. They used chloroform and held me down. I woke up in this room."

 

Monday. He'd been down here for five days, then.

 

>"Have they fed you?"<

 

"No. What day is today?"

 

>"Saturday."<

 

"Oh." The Earl sat for a few minutes with his head on the Major's shoulder. "It was time for our meeting, anyway. I had to free my Siegfried so that we could meet this evening in..." he trailed off, tightening his grip on the Major's shoulder, "...in Rotterdam."

 

The Major sighed, growing a little alarmed. >"I need you to keep your wits. I won't be able to escape by myself. I seem to have lost blood and can't open one eye. Play Brunhilde a little longer."<

 

"Brunhild? Can't I at least be Kriemhild?" The Earl's other hand strayed up to run through what was left of the Major's hair, carefully avoiding the wound on the back of his head. "She was Siegfried's wife. A terror when angered."

 

The Major rubbed his hand through the Earl's short curls in response and tightened his grip on his shoulder. >"No.  Brunhild was a queen and a warrior who won fights against many man who underestimated her. She was only beaten in the end by Siegfried's tricks, but would have won against him and King Gunther in a fair fight."<

 

The Earl took a minute before responding. "The way some histories tell it, Brunhild also fell madly in love with Siegfried after she realized how cunning his trickery had been. After he was dishonorably defeated, she killed herself. Siegfried was Brunhild's true love, but he had already fallen for Kriemhild before they met and wouldn't look her way once. When given the chance, Siegfried can't help but make love to Brunhild even after being warned away, so there is evidence the attraction was mutual and perhaps something rather primal. Perhaps they were soul mates that met with unfortunate circumstances."

 

>"Idiot. Even after being beaten to a bloody pulp, you can still spout nonsense."<

 

The Earl laughed weakly in response, but said nothing. The Major continued, hoping to keep the Earl conscious.

 

>"You know, right before they broke in on me, I was thinking of you. The bloody mission briefing with the history of Ankara was running through my head in your voice, the way you praise any city you fancy."<

 

The Earl shifted slightly, and the Major could feel him wince against his shoulder.

 

"Ankara, one of the oldest cities in the world, has 3,500 years of history, and its location both on the silk road and generally on the borders of several important kingdoms in the past and present has made it a melting pot of both Eastern and Western culture. It has gone through several name changes and cultural masters over the millennia, and was called home by the Hittites, Greeks, Romans, Phyrgian, Byzantines, and Ottomans over the years. One might call it the capitol of Anatolia, though it has never had that name... something like that?"

 

The Major closed his eyes as he felt something tighten in his chest. He tightened his grip on the Earl unconsciously. "Yes, that's it exactly, you degenerate!" He had switched to English, and was a bit disappointed to hear his voice waver a bit. His throat closed off.

 

Silently, the Earl took his head from his shoulders and put a hand on either side of the Major's face. He pulled himself back far enough so that they were face to face. They locked eyes and sat in silence for a moment, and then the Earl leaned in and put his lips against the Major's.

 

The Major closed his one good eye and pulled the Earl closer to him. Even after not having a shave for five days, the man lacked a beard, and only had short stubble that rubbed against the Major's face. Their lips moved against each other for a few seconds, and then the Earl's mouth opened and the tongue began probing the Major's lips.

 

The Major opened his mouth to let the thief explore. The tongue had twisted around the Major's, and the Major had responded with his own tongue. The Major had been appalled at the thought of having someone else's saliva in his mouth, and was ashamed that the thought of the thief not brushing his teeth for five days sprang unbidden to his mind, but he found that the taste of Eroica was still not unpleasant. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to try and explore the thief's mouth with his own tongue.

 

His relief at the possibility of making it through the ordeal alive began to abate, and the inappropriateness of the situation began to set in. He closed his mouth and began to move away from the kiss slowly, breaking contact, and then taking one more thick, kiss before pulling himself farther away. He opened his eye and saw that the thief was staring at him with his blue eyes, his face completely unreadable. He looked away.

 

>"This isn't something we should do right now. We need to focus on getting out alive."<

 

The Earl favored him with a brilliant smile. Even without his halo of golden curls framing his face, the Earl still managed to look positively angelic. The Major was glad they had not damaged his face, since he feared what the thief'’s response would have been.

 

"Well, thank you for that. I feel like I'm up for anything now, really. Let's see about standing, shall we?"

 

The men broke their embrace and began working on getting themselves upright. Both had to use the chair. Once on his feet, the Major felt less dizzy, but was looking at the Earl in dismay. Mercifully, his legs didn't appear to be broken, but the wounds on his chest, combined with what was probably several broken ribs, were making it hard for the man to breathe and hold his arms in a comfortable spot around his body. He probably wasn't going to be able to run, and the Major hoped that a rib had not pierced any organs.

 

>"Do you think you can walk?"<

 

The Earl's look of pain was replaced with another smile. "Of course I can. I style myself a hero, and now I've got a hero by my side. I feel like we can do anything today, including escaping from a terrorist compound after being beaten to a bloody pulp."

 

The Major smirked. >"Good. I think I will need you to pick the lock on the door."< He patted himself down, but found he had nothing in his pockets or on his person, as expected. He looked around the room for any type of lockpicking tool. His eyes landed on the dead agents. Hating himself, he went over and searched C's pockets. Luckily, they had not bothered to search the dead agents, so the Major found not only the pocket knife that he knew C carried around, but the transmitter on B, carried by every odd agent in his force. He activated the transmitter and put it back in B's pocket, then walked back over to the Earl.

 

>"I set something off that calls the other agents. They may be here before we escape ourselves, if they didn't manage to tail me from the hotel. Can you use this to pick the lock on the door?"< He handed the pearl-handled knife over to the Earl.

 

"Yes, I think I can manage." The Earl said sadly, looking at the agents. "Oh, B. You were one of the fun ones. You'll break Bonham's heart like that. You too, Agent C." He turned to the Major. "I'm sorry that had to happen. I've never known you to lose a man. I can't imagine how devastated you must be."

 

>"Yes. They were... Their names. Their names were Frederich Ebert and Gustav Bauer. They aren't agents any more. You don't need to use their code names."< The Major's throat tightened again, but he didn't discuss the matter with the thief further. >"Let's just get out of here."<

 

He turned and looked at the chair, and grabbed it as the Earl began working at the lock from inside. He walked back over and whispered. >"Once you pick the lock, I'm going to kick the door in. They are probably not stupid enough to leave the room unguarded, so I'm going to use this chair and beat whoever I find out there senseless. They will have guns, so stay in here until I'm finished. I will take their guns. The men in here were armed with sub-machine guns, and if I find one out there, I will give it to you. They do not need to be aimed. Just don’t point it at me and you should have no trouble, even with your skill."< He smiled when the thief turned to give him a sour look. >"Then we will go from there. They will not be expecting us. Do you think you will be okay?"<

 

The Major heard the lock click as the Earl gave the knife a final twist. He turned to the Major and smiled. "Of course. We will make it, Major."

 

The Major smiled. >"Very well, Eroica. Remember, I can't see out of my right eye, so keep that in mind and watch that side closely."< The Major paused, regarding the short-haired Earl. "Good luck."He added in English.

 

The Earl looked at him in surprise, but before he could respond, the Major kicked the door in. He'd had all he could take today.

 

*****

Eroica and Major von dem Eberbach had made it out of the terrorist hideout fairly easily after Klaus dispatched the guards at their cell. He had stepped out the front door of the hideout to find his agents pulling up in front of the building. With that reassuring sight, he had collapsed and allowed himself to slip into the unconsciousness that had teased at the edges of his vision during the mad sprint through the halls.

 

He had woken up in a hospital. The damage had been a broken arm he'd earned while fighting the guards on the way out, two fractures in his skull, a concussion, a few lacerations on his head and face that needed to be stitched, and an unfortunate fracture to the orbit of his right eye that the doctors feared had cut into the optic nerves. Oh, and they'd had been forced to shave his head completely in order to stitch up the knocks he'd taken. The Major had floated in and out of a drug-induced haze for longer than he would have liked before he'd had enough of his senses back to ask after the others.

 

B and C were dead. The Major had been out for three days, and Agent J had been there to tell him that they were holding funerals for the Agents in Bonn that afternoon. None of the other agents had suffered injuries during the mission. The terrorists had been taken into custody in Ankara and would be tried there.

 

Aside from multiple contusions, the Earl had several shattered ribs, including one that had pierced his pancreas. He had to go under the knife in order to have it fixed. The doctors were also worrying about the burns on the Earl's torso, but aside from keeping them covered and sterile, there wasn't much they could do. J told the Major that the doctors expected the Earl back on his feet in a week.

 

The Major went back to sleep and woke up two days later. He blinked a few times with his good eye, then called the nurse and demanded to know where the Earl of Gloria was being kept. He then dismissed the nurse, who left in an angry huff. Then the Major pulled all his IVs and walked over to the Earl's room. It was dark out, but the Major wasn't sure what time it was, since they'd taken his watch. He settled into a chair next to the Earl and watched the man sleep. He was hooked to a heart monitor that blipped steadily. The Major sat in complete silence and numbness until the sky started graying through the window. Then a nurse came in and the Major left without protest to his own room.

 

He slept, then went back to the Earl's room when he woke back up. The man was awake this time. He turned in the bed and regarded the Major with wide blue eyes.

 

>"My poor Siegfried. You look awful."<

 

The Major put his good hand to his head and found it to be almost completely wrapped in gauze bandages. He imagined he didn't cut such an impressive figure with his arm in a cast and sling around his neck and in the colorless hospital robe.

 

>"Yes,"< he said, taking a seat. >"But it isn't anything to worry about. Just some cuts."< The thought of his eye danced in the back of his mind, but the Major declined to comment.

 

>"Yes, I had asked the doctors about you. They said you'd be fine. How are you feeling?"<

 

The Major looked at the Earl. His shorn golden curls were plastered against his skull, and the Major thought it likely they hadn't been washed in the two weeks that had elapsed since the thief had been captured. His sunken eyes and face were haunted-looking, and a few bruises he had sustained from facial blows had turned ugly colors in the last stages of healing. His arms were also covered in the same ugly-looking bruises, and were still slightly swollen from the worst of the blows. He had his blanket pulled most of the way up his chest, but the Major could see the bandages that were wrapped around his torso were beginning to show the seeping wounds underneath.

 

"I don't know." The Major answered honestly, closing his eye and leaning back in his chair as he switched to English. "Nothing like this has happened before."

 

>"Is this the worst you've ever been injured on a mission before?"<

 

The Major opened his eye and looked at the Earl when the invitation to switch languages had been declined. >"I've been shot several times, and I've been tortured before, by being beaten and burned and cut, but never all at once. But this time they very nearly bashed my head in. I invited it, I guess, but I didn't think they'd hit me that hard if they wanted information."< He was quiet for a minute, then added >"I've also never lost my agents before."<

 

The Earl was silent as he turned to look at the ceiling from his position in the bed. >"Their funerals were a few days ago. I would have liked to go."<

 

>"Me too."<

 

The Major thought of something that had bothered him back in the cell.

 

>"Have you heard from your men at the castle? Were they injured when the terrorists entered?"<

 

The Earl turned his head away and looked out the window. >"I don't know. Your agents haven't been able to get ahold of them. G told me he was going to find them for me. I'm not sure what that means."< He turned back to the Major and smiled weakly. >"I think that means they went looking for me. I think G would have told me if they found anyone injured or... or worse at the castle. Hopefully I'll be able to see them now that the agents will be visible around the castle and in Bonn. They'll let my men know."<

 

The Major was partially relieved to hear that, but still feared a bit that the men were missing. They sat in silence for several more minutes. The Major decided to say what was on his mind.

 

>"I... I think I will need some time by myself after this. I will be forced to take time off to recover, and I may take some time after that as well. To think about things. To be alone."< He looked at the Earl and hope he had made himself understood.

 

The Earl turned his head to look at him, expressionless. He didn't say a word, which made the Major uncomfortable.

 

The Major didn't really have anything else to add, so he stood to leave. He turned his back to the Earl and walked to the door. He paused.

 

Without turning back around, he added >"I will call you when I am finished. Give me two months."<

 

"Jawohl." The Earl added quietly as he watched the Major walk away. 

 

*****

 

His heart broke. He knew the Major wasn't the type to take something like this lightly. And all this had to happen after he'd made so much progress! Tears filled the man's eyes. He hoped the Major didn't decide to push him away or something silly because he thought he was too dangerous to be around.

 

Well, he had another thing coming if he thought Eroica would leave his side so easily. Only death would ever part him from the Major, if he had anything to say about it.

 

*****

 

Two weeks later, the Major studied himself in the mirror. He was still away on medical leave from NATO, and sitting around the house was driving him crazy. The bandages on his head had come off, and the stitches had come out a few days ago. They would leave scars, but he had small nicks and scars on his face anyway. They faded and were almost invisible after two or so months. The gash over his eye would leave a larger scar. His bangs would cover it when his hair grew back out, though. His head had been completely shaved at the hospital, and now was covered in short, dark hair that bristled from his skull. He had bullied the doctors into giving him a brace for his arm instead of a cast since it had been a clean break, so he wore his arm in a splint wrapped in a bandage. And exercised it every night to avoid muscle atrophy, which he was fairly certain would have given the doctor a stroke to hear, but it hadn't increased his pain any, and the doctors didn't seem to notice on his check-ups, so he continued.

 

His eye was the more problematic thing. As the doctors had predicted, he hadn't been able to see out of it when the bandages had come off. They said the damage to the nerves was beyond their surgical ability. This wouldn't exclude him from active duty, since he could still see just fine out of the other eye, but he was sure the chief would use it as an excuse to give him lesser missions. He'd been carping for years to leave the dangerous ones to the younger agents. 

 

The chef hadn't wanted to give him this one. There were still three counter-espionage units active in NATO. The Major's unit was the oldest and most experienced, and still got the bulk of the dangerous assignments. The two younger Spymasters outranked him though, and for this mission, the only reason he had been sent was because the Lieutenant-Colonel had been away on a mission and the Colonel's wife had gone missing the day before the assignment, so he had not been available.

 

The Major's stomach tightened. The terrorists had covered all their bases and kidnapped someone dear to all three of the Spymasters. The wives of the other two men had been held in cells adjacent to the one the thief was in. The Earl had been kidnapped four days before the other two women, but nobody had noticed his absence except his own men. It hadn't occurred to the Major to check for other prisoners. The priority had been escaping from the compound and contacting his men to surround them fast enough to capture them, so he didn't feel guilty, per se, but it was not a comforting thought.

 

His thoughts strayed back to his reflection. He looked himself in the eye. The dead eye had lost its color and faded to gray. There was still a little hope of regaining some vision when the orbit healed fully, but the doctors were not optimistic. He could still aim and fire a weapon as well as with two eyes, the Major had tried that the first day, but it was obvious he had a weak side now.

 

Work was all he had to entertain himself. Without it, even while convalescing, he was going insane. What drove him the craziest was that his thoughts would not stay away from that damn thief.

 

His chest had tightened as the memories of the man being beaten had played themselves over and over again through his mind while he lied awake at night. He was thankful that nothing terrible had happened. He was also thankful that the thief had been able to untie his bonds, because otherwise the Major was certain that both men would have died in that cell.

 

It should never have happened in the first place. He should have changed their meeting place, should have been aware that he was being watched. He couldn't believe he'd been so careless when it had mattered most. He couldn't afford to ever, ever put the man through another ordeal like that. He knew he couldn't live if he had to see it again.

 

Best to stay away, then. Best to sever all ties and go back to the life he was living before. He didn't have anyone that terrorists could ply him with before, and it hadn't happened in the past. He hadn't ever been put in a dangerous situation like that.

 

But he had been set up this time. NATO had been set up, and he had taken the fall, fallen into the terrorists' trap. And the torture hadn't worked. Word had gotten around that the thief had been tortured and Iron Klaus hadn't cracked. And they had already been gossiping about he and the thief for years.

 

Which led him to the next problem. He knew that man would never accept no. Never leave him in peace. He would pursue him to his grave and follow him into it. The Major had no doubts that the man's feelings for him were genuine. He just wished he wasn't so... well, flamboyant about it. The thief was one of the few people who wasn't intimidated by Iron Klaus, which was impressive given how many enemy spies and government leaders the Major had terrified over the years.

 

The other problem was... well. The Major looked at his eyes in the mirror again as his chest tightened. The problem was that he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the thief for the past two weeks. It was all he could do not to call the man to find out how he was doing. That he was okay. To find out what had happened since they'd last spoken. It was just like Leni. The thief was everything to him, to the point where his depressing and inevitable downhill slide at NATO was being pushed to the edges of his mind because of thoughts of the man. And he knew the thief... well, he wouldn't go and become a hausfrau anytime soon.

 

He turned away from the mirror and lit a cigarette. Schiesse. What to do about that. The Major supposed it was his fault, anyway, for pushing things this far.

 

*****

 

A week later, the Major found himself in America after the doctors had okayed him for travel. His head still hurt since the fractures were still healing, but pain like that was a matter of discipline. America was loud, busy, and obnoxious enough to distract him from his problems. It also privately amused him to be there, since he recalled a certain loud, obnoxious CIA operative who promised him he would never be allowed back in the country again. But that was years ago, and he wasn't traveling under his real name at the moment. He wound up prowling around a large city in the dead center of the country, losing himself in the crowds as he drifted from place to place that foreigners like himself went to. It wasn't satisfying, and it wasn't the least bit distracting.

 

He found himself pacing like a caged bear and pushing people out of the way as he made his way from crowded room to crowded room looking for peace one day. Then... then something caught his eye. Well, he shouldn't say it caught his eye. The Major had never really been enamored with anything like this in the past. It was just that... he saw it, and he knew it was something a certain degenerate art thief would love. He was surprised that the thief didn't own it already.

 

He wondered briefly about what would happen if he were wrong. It would be horribly embarrassing if the thief made fun of his philistine nature again. He'd had quite enough of that over the years.

 

He checked the date and country. Well, that seemed close enough to what he remembered. As far as he could tell, it was well-done. Well, it looked all right to him, anyway. It was what it was that caught the Major's eye.

 

A plan set itself in motion.

 

*****

 

July 21st arrived. The Earl woke and stretched out in bed, allowing himself a moment to luxuriate in the sunlight and enjoy the feeling of the cool silk sheets on his body. His bruises had all healed, the mess on his torso had miraculously healed cleanly, his ribs were only a little sore, and the small incision that they had made to operate had healed and would only leave a little mark that followed the line of his lower rib.

 

He allowed himself a moment to think of his Major, and wondered sadly about what their next meeting would be like. How awkward would it be? He knew the man, and he knew he would be told to stay away. Well, as if that had ever made a difference. Now that he knew he was wanted, he was going to be twice as persistent as before. He still had three weeks until the Major's deadline.  Waiting was a kind of torture. If the deadline passed, he would wait another week, then show up at the Major's castle to find out what was going on. He sadly looked over to find his nightstand empty, remembering the wonderful birthday he'd had last year. Now he was turning 39, and that was only one year away from 40, and he wasn't going to have nearly as much fun. He sighed, twisted his body around to put his feet on the floor, and walked over to the bathroom to get himself ready for the day.

 

*****

 

"Morning, Bonham!" The Earl greeted his man brightly, offering him a smile.

 

"Morning, Earl.  'appy birthday, cheers to turning 24." Bonham had winked at him as the Earl sat down to his breakfast, which today was fit for a king. His full breakfast was James' gift to him every year, and while he smiled to think of what it meant to the man to allow the money to be spent on the food, the gift would mean a little more if he wasn't reminded of it all day afterwards.

 

Finding out his men were okay after the incident had been one of the greatest reliefs of his life, especially after seeing what those terrorists had thoughtlessly done to B and C. He had no idea how, but the terrorists had missed every single other bedroom in the house and had woken no one when they kidnapped the Earl. The men had indeed been looking for him all week, and came out of hiding when the one stationed to watch the NATO headquarters in Bonn reported the alphabets had returned and earnestly asked for their help.

 

Without another word, the Earl picked up his fork and began enjoying his breakfast.

 

*****

 

Bonham regarded his long-time employer as he watched the man eat.

 

The kidnapping had been a horrible fright. Neither Bonham nor any of the other men had suspected anyone capable of penetrating the castle as those terrorists had. They had used some pretty clever and dirty tricks to get past their security. He would have to remember to ask Mr. A if the NATO agents would have been able to pull it off.

 

The team had thought the Earl had taken one of his flights of fancy again and gone off to... well, wherever it was he went on Saturdays, or off to Germany to see the Major, but when he hadn't returned after a couple evenings, or even been in touch, they began to worry. They had traveled to Bonn, but none of the agents in the Major's unit had been there to ask, either if they'd seen the Earl or if they could help look for him. The Major was quite hard-headed, but he was sure even that loud, violent wanker would help look for the Earl if they could get him to understand that something like this had ever happened before.

 

Poor Mr. B and Mr. C. He had found the agents the same day as their funerals, and he had stopped what he was doing to attend. Mr. A had been absolutely inconsolable. Mr. B had been his partner for years. Known the man longer than his wife. Bonham had been close to both men since he always seemed to wind up working with the pair when he was inevitably coerced into working as one of the Major's men.

 

Bonham nearly had a heart attack when he finally got to see the Earl again. He had taken a lot of abuse, all because they thought that Major cared about him! The circumstances had made him want to kill that insensitive man for what had happened. He tried again to get the Earl to stay clear of the Major. For his own good, he had begged. 

 

The Earl hadn't wanted to talk about it. Hadn't wanted to talk about much of anything after the incident, in fact. He didn't look traumatized or sad, but somehow... alternately happy and thoughtful? It had puzzled Bonham a great deal.

 

He looked at the man a bit sadly now. He'd lost a lot of weight the past five weeks, and looked like a wraith of his former self, especially with his head shaved. The terrorists had cut his hair, but Bonham could not, for the life of him, understand why the Earl wanted his head shaved completely. The short hair wasn't completely unsalvageable. Now he ate breakfast with the beginnings of short, tight blond curls covering his head in a thin layer.

 

His thoughts strayed to the present. He wasn't sure the Earl wanted to go out when he didn't look himself. So what was he going to do to entertain the Earl on his birthday? He hoped to make it a day where the man could begin to go back to his old self. His thoughts strayed to activities around the castle before he suddenly remembered something. He rushed out of the room, coming back with a large, flat package.

 

"Oh, Earl! A parcel arrived for you this morning, first thing. I would expect more from your friends in the Guild later, but this one was unmarked. I thought you might like to open it first."

 

The Earl paused, a slice of toast in his mouth. He looked at the package as he slowly chewed and swallowed his toast. "No sender? Where is it from?"

 

Bonham checked the postmark. "Er... America?"

 

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Bonham couldn't think of a single soul who would send the Earl a birthday present from America.

 

The Earl pursed his lips in thought, then got up to take the package from Bonham. 

 

"Well, I'm not sure what this could be. What a wonderful surprise! I wonder who thought I would want anything in America..." The Earl said slowly as he began to unwrap the paper and pry open the wooden slats protecting the package. He stopped when he slid the item free. He stared at it for several minutes, a perfect "O" of shock on his face.

 

*****

 

The Major was privately very disappointed. He had expected the thief to show up at his house immediately after he received the package, or at the very least, to have dinner on his birthday. He figured he would come the next night. And then he didn't. He didn't come all that week.

 

The Major ran his hands through his short hair as he walked the halls of his house. Six weeks since the incident, and he was more or less fully healed. He had started doing more vigorous exercises to get the strength fully back in his arm, and was returning to work in two day's time. He was looking forward to the distraction work would once again provide. Sitting at home by himself with nothing to do had nearly driven him batty. He had only spoken enough to bark out orders to his staff in order to keep them terrified and away. He could see the pity when they looked at him. He couldn't stand the drivel on television, and he was too worried about the thief and work in order to concentrate enough to study or read a book. He had walked a lot, and that was about it. He was sure the staff was getting ready to throw him out of the house.

 

He opened the door to his study and started when he saw someone sitting at his desk. His hand had gone to his side, searching for the gun he wasn't wearing before he realized he was looking at the Earl of Gloria. Then the Major's heart stopped.

 

The man sat leaned back in the chair, with his ankles crossed, looking for all the world like he had just been waiting for the Major to return to discuss the weather. He was wearing boots that were cut just above his ankle made out of soft brown leather, skin-tight gray pants, and a dark blue button-down collared shirt that had loose sleeves, but fit him right everywhere else. He wore a brown scarf around his neck. As the Major's eyes moved up his body, he locked on to the blue eyes and noticed the Earl's hair was much shorter than it had been cut before, and realized he must have shaved his head at the hospital as well.

 

The Major was wearing his usual ensemble consisting of brown suit pants, a white button-down shirt with a navy blue tie, and that belt that somehow had not worn out over the course of the 30 years it had held the man's pants up. The Earl's heart broke as he took in the short brown hair and the eye that had dimmed. He rose from his seat and offered his hand out.

 

"Forgive me for showing up unannounced, but I thought I might have been summoned earlier in the week."

 

The Major turned his back on the thief to hide a blush. "I don't know what you're talking about." He answered gruffly.

 

"Well, then, I think it was worth the trip to Bonn to tell you what happened. I received the most wonderful birthday present this year. It was "Mars Chastising Cupid," an exquisite painting by Bartolomeo Manfredi from the beginning of the 17th century. It depicts the soldier Mars beating a blindfolded Cupid while Venus looks on in the background, looking to get between the two. Mars is punishing Cupid for having designs on his own mother. Except the look on Cupid's face is one of complete ecstasy, since it was really Mars, Venus's lover, whose eye Cupid had been trying to catch. Really, it was exactly to my tastes. I could not have chosen a better birthday present had I gone out and acquired it myself."

 

The Major gained control of his face well enough to turn around and face the thief. He let Iron Klaus take over. "And why are you telling me this?! Why are you in Bonn, in my house of all places! I told you to wait three more weeks before I contacted you! I do not need to hear of a painting of the planets! Take your degenerate nonsense elsewhere!"

 

The Earl smiled. "Well, you didn't let me finish. That wasn't the fun part of this present. The fun part is that it's part of the collection of The Art Institute of Chicago. I wasn't sure how it wound up in my house on my birthday."

 

The Major snorted. "You keep a colony of art thieves on your premises at all times. I'm sure one of them could have managed it for you, thinking to catch your degenerate eye."

 

"Well, that's just the thing, Major. It did catch my eye. Except none of my men would ever go to America, nor would they steal something like this for me since my tastes are notoriously fickle. They are afraid to choose ingredients for dinner sometimes, but that has more to do with James than me. Anyway. They also do not work alone. I wasn't sure it was the real thing at first, since I'd never seen it in person, so I flew to America to find out. They had another in the museum, except it was only an excellent forgery. I stayed in town a few days, chatting up those wonderful locals, and found a boy that had been absolutely terrified out of his skin earlier in the week, but had been paid handsomely to produce a replica of the piece."

 

The silence lay thick between the two men.

 

"He said the man that had paid him was a tall German with short dark hair. He'd pulled him straight out of his classroom and scared him nearly out of his wits trying to make him confess that he could imitate... let me make sure I get this right... ‘those degenerate paintings of the men in robes,’ I believe is what I was told." The Earl turned to look out the window, but shot a glance at the Major out of the corner of his eye.

 

The Major lit a cigarette and said nothing. True enough. It had been as simple as making up his mind. He had gone to the back of the museum, and there had been a school. He had just grabbed the first boy he saw painting something that looked the same and made him do it. The switch had been harder, and had felt bad, but he was a professional spy, after all. He knew how to be quiet and foil security systems. And it's not like he hadn't put one just like it on the wall. He was sure only the thief could tell the difference. The boy had told him they were exactly alike in every way, which seemed true enough to the Major when he'd held them side by side and inspected them in the dim light diffusing through the skylight at the museum.

 

>"You're crazy if you think I would go to America, let alone steal a painting."<

 

>"You know, that's what I thought, too. But then I remembered you had been hit in the head awfully hard."<

 

The Major exhaled a cloud of smoke. >"Whatever."<

 

*****

The two men had dinner and had taken a walk through the gardens behind the castle. Once again, more time had passed than the Major would readily admit. He found that he didn't mind.

 

He also hadn't said anything when the thief had taken his arm during the walk. He lost himself in the man's pleasant chatter as the two pretended to take a casual walk and that they weren't simply enjoying each other's company. The Major didn't have the energy to either pretend or call attention to the situation, so he remained silent and contemplative.

 

He thought back on his relationship with Helene. There had been plenty of times he had made the effort to fill comfortable silences. Uncharacteristically, he had been the chatty one. And he had thought they had been enjoying each other's company every time they were together. But she had never taken his arm casually like this, which made his chest tighten to remember. It still hurt to think that Leni hadn't loved him back, but he realized his chest tightened because the thief was interested. Even after getting to know him. And he was certainly returning his feelings.

 

Unfortunately, the Major wasn't sure how to proceed with what he wanted. He wasn't sure what he wanted, period. He never wanted to part from the thief. He wanted to be close. He wanted to touch and do things he'd never in his life thought of before. It terrified him, especially thinking about going to bed with the man. But he soon realized he would likely put out his single sighted eye if it meant keeping the thief with him always.

 

But the Major wasn't a man of many words, nor could he ever bring himself to voice such sentiments. He prayed the thief knew, and would take the initiative.

 

He bit his tongue to keep a laugh from escaping. The thief always took initiative.

 

*****

 

>"...And you know, I was never more ashamed of James than I was right then.We had to flee the country on foot. I've never been back. I'm sure our faces are on the wall of every post office within the borders."< The Earl sighed and grimaced at the thought and the lost opportunity.  Then he looked out of the corner of his eye at the silent Major.

 

>"You have been awfully quiet this evening, Major. Perhaps you'd like a penny for your thoughts?"<

 

The Major remained silent, not even acknowledging the Earl's presence. The Earl allowed himself a moment for a private fantasy where he imagined the Major trying to make up his mind about ravishing him on the spot and making love in the morning glories.

 

He frowned. No, morning glories wouldn't do. He cast a quick glance at his surroundings.  Hydrangea, daffodils, rue shrubs, mint, marigold, lobelia, yellow tulips. Good God, this was the most unromantic garden he'd ever been in. 

 

The two walked into a clearing with a twisted and very ancient linden tree in the center. Well, the lime symbology would do quite nicely. He finished his thought, then turned to other topics.

 

>"Perhaps your mind is wandering back to your work at NATO? Have you recovered enough to rejoin your agents? Perhaps you have a gerichtslinde on your mind."<

 

The two paused under the tree. The Major reached into his pocket with his free hand and retrieved a cigarette, put it between his lips, then lit it with his lighter. He took a slow drag and let the smoke out before answering.

 

>"No, I have not yet gone back to work. I am scheduled to return on Monday. I... I am not sure how it will go for me there."< The Major finished, pausing uncharacteristically to finish the depressing thought.

 

The Earl's eyes flashed as he turned to face him. >"No, certainly you are not to blame for that mission! They can't possibly pin you for a setup run on NATO itself! It would have happened to any team they sent on that mission."< He put his hand to the Major's face and turned it to face his, so that the two were looking eye to eye. >"It is not your fault, you know."<

 

The Major forced his face away from the Earl's and continued. >"Yes. Well. NATO does not blame me. I am to receive a commendation, actually. A promotion. For performing admirably under torture. It's what they do when that happens."<

 

The Earl's jaw dropped. >"You've been a Major for... how long? And they are going to promote you now?"<

 

>"Yes. They reviewed my career. It's a large promotion. In view of my service to NATO, they are raising me several ranks. To major general."< The Major scowled and exhaled again. He hated it. He was sure he wasn't going to be able to sit still for this.

 

The Earl was quiet, turning the information over in his mind. >"From your tone, I would say this isn't happy news, though your tone rarely lets on to whether something is happy or sad. If they've reviewed your career in light of the incident and are awarding you for your achievements... well, it makes it sound like a cap to an impressive career."<

 

>"Yes. Even though there was no mental or physical failings on this last mission or on any mission I've ever done, NATO has been increasingly interested in putting me behind a desk or training. This is the prefect opportunity, especially because I'm..."< The Major's temper began to rise. >"No longer in control of my full faculties."<

 

As thoughts stormed through the Major's head, he was caught off guard when the thief put his hand to his face on his blind side and began running a finger over his eyebrow, just below where he'd gotten hit across the head.

 

>"Poor Major. I wondered if you could still see out of this eye. It's like a window being put out in a magnificent cathedral."<

 

The Major broke their grip and stormed several paces away, to the other side of the linden tree. >"No! I do not want pity! I do not need it! Nothing has changed! This is all meaningless, all of it, and should have never happened!"< The thoughts kept circling through his head. What was he going to do? He needed the activity provided on missions to keep himself sane. He couldn't do training since he knew he would wind up killing some stupid sod with his bare hands on the first day, and he wasn't cut out for deskwork. He wasn't too old, and it was criminal what they were doing to him.

 

The Earl let the Major’s temper run its course, then spoke carefully from where he still stood on the other side of the tree. >"No, it was wrong of me to say that to you. I should have known you would not respond well. Too frequently I say what I think, and it's a bad habit where you're concerned."<

 

The Major put his back to the tree and sat down, facing away from the Earl. He looked through the leaves and up at the sky, where clouds had blotted out the moon and stars, as he thought about what to say next. The Earl stayed where he was on the other side of the tree.

 

>"It's unlike you to be so tactless. It's making me sick to think about returning to NATO on Monday and have everyone that greets me look at my eye and apologize. To pity me. I could kill them all with my bare hands, and they pity me. I don't want to hear it."< 

 

The Earl said nothing as his mouth went dry with a memory. The Major had not shot with the intention of killing on his way out of the terrorist compound, presumably because he wanted to see every single one of the men brought to justice. But the guards outside the cell... He had dispatched one with the chair, but the other had grabbed the Earl on the way out. He had held a rifle to the Earl's face while using him as a shield. The Major waited about one second before smashing the terrorist in the face with the butt of a gun. The man had let go of the Earl, who had collapsed on the ground, but started reaching for him again. The Major smashed him in the face again, then the man retaliated by smashing the Major's gun arm hard enough to break it. The Major had simply used his other arm to grab the man's head and twist it the wrong way on his neck. Effortlessly. The official explanation was that the Major had been avoiding firing shots since he didn't know how accurate the rifles were and he didn't want to attract too much attention so early in their escape attempt. It had chilled the Earl to see it, but he could hardly argue with the measure in that situation.

 

While the Earl was lost in his thoughts, the Major continued.

 

>"It's why I decided to start meeting with you, you know. You sent those lilies when my father died without another word. I had to hear everyone else fumble through the niceties and read and respond to all those sympathy cards. You and the agents got it right. The agents sent G to answer for all of them, so I only had to tell them to stop once."<

 

The Earl's eyes widened. Was the Major really so opposed to common courtesy? Well... he knew better than the offer the Major sympathy. It was a boneheaded thing to do just now, but he hadn't been thinking. Does everyone else at NATO, working with the man for 30 years, not realize that he would rather ignore things than talk about them?

 

The Earl walked over silently and sat down next to the Major, careful to approach from his left side. As an afterthought, he put his arm around the man's shoulders and rested his head against him. >"Major, I am truly sorry. I spoke without thinking when I said that before. Such thoughts occur to me unbidden, but I've learned in the past two years that you seem to respond better when I keep them to myself. You'll allow me an occasional slip, I hope?"<

 

The Major grunted and finished his cigarette, stabbing it out on a tree root. The wind had picked up, and a gentle breeze was starting to cut through the oppressively hot July night.

 

>"Major..."< The Earl began, in a quieter voice. >"I... never properly thanked you for what you did for me. I know we are on the subject of things I shouldn't say, but I feel I ought to say this. I owe you my life. I know you blame yourself for that mission, regardless of what anyone else tells you. You think that it's your fault that it happened to me. I should remind you that I would have been kidnapped even without the past two years, because I have made it my mission for the past fourteen years to be closer to you than anyone else. I would have been kidnapped just fine on my own, even if you had not consented to what you have."< The Earl smiled and continued. >"And, you know, Major, had you not been captured by those terrorists, I probably would have died, along with those other two officer's wives. Nobody you would have been able to catch would likely have revealed the location of that base. I had still been captured, even if you had not been. I would have disappeared without a trace, and you never would have known what happened to me."<

 

At this, the Major chilled. The thief was right. It was not something that had occurred to him. The mission had gone badly even before he started on it. But he didn't share the Earl's views that he would have died in the cell. He would have made those terrorists talk. They wouldn't have been able to resist baiting him. And then they would have talked. Hostages always wound up talking to Iron Klaus. It was why he hadn't been allowed to interrogate in years. Damn lawyers.

 

>"Well, that is partially true. I would have found you when I found out you were missing, though."<

 

The Earl was amused. >"Oh, would you have? How would you know I was even gone, Major?"<

 

>"Simple. You would have to be dead or held against your will to miss a Saturday evening with me."<

 

The Earl laughed very hard, then sobered up and leaned his head back against the Major's shoulder. >"True enough. But you would have never found me. Nobody has a motive to kidnap me. You would have never suspected one of your enemies."<

 

>"I may have."< The Major admitted. >" I would have taken a train to England that night. Your castle would have been empty, I think. Then I would have flown back to Bonn and had my agents look for you."<

 

>"Major! That's an abuse of NATO resources!"< The Earl announced scandalously. >"The Chief would never have stood for that."<

 

>"Even the Chief has a hard time telling me 'no' when there is something I need to do."< The Major continued, a touch of malice in his voice. >"I have proven often enough that I go to great lengths to save you, even when I have another mission in mind."<

 

>"Hmf."< The Earl huffed. >"I usually save myself."<

 

>"How many Russians have I assaulted over the years to save you from your meddling?"<

 

>"Not that many. Mostly just Mischa. And you like beating up Russians, so that doesn't count."<

 

The Major smiled, but continued in a flat voice, threatening the Earl. >"I seem to remember picking you up off the floor after you had been pulverized by that steamroller in Tyrol. And again in Vienna, running through that graveyard so you wouldn't get trounced by that idiot. And what about those photos I received with you in a bomb collar asking for help? I let an enemy agent escape so that you could live to pester me another day."<

 

>"I'm still shocked you had NATO bomb squad remove that collar. It would have been like you to activate it to terrify me when you were displeased."<

 

>"That was one of the times the Chief did tell me no when I wanted to do something."< The Major continued darkly as he lit another cigarette. >"Anyway. In the case of the recent kidnapping, the Colonel had been out looking for his wife using his agents. Had we discovered your absence before I went on my mission, that would have been enough to tip us off that something wasn't right."<

 

>"And then you would have gone on the mission anyway, leaving that Colonel to save me. Completely unromantic, Major."<

 

>"Romance is not something I'm interested in, thief."<

 

>"Oh, it isn’t?"< The Earl said mischievously, raising his head from his shoulder to look at the Major. He put his hand to the Major's cheek and turned his head towards his face, then planted a long, slow kiss on the Major's lips.

 

*****

 

Having been plied with the conversation about not noticing the Earl's absence, the Major allowed the kiss. Emotions warred inside of him. He sat, unresponsive, while the Earl's lips massaged him, and his tongue probed for access into his mouth.

 

He opened his mouth when he realized the part of his brain screaming for this not to happen was once again only angry that the Earl had won. Every other part of him wanted to stay with the Earl, to let him do as he wished, to never leave the man's side, to tell him everything.

 

He analyzed the kiss as he put his arms around the Earl and closed his eyes. Once again, he was slightly appalled at having another tongue in his mouth. What had he eaten? How good was his oral hygiene? The taste of the Earl's tongue was warm and mostly neutral, and he was enjoying the sensation of having the soft mass in his mouth. He bit down lightly and tightened his lips, and the Earl pulled his tongue back slowly, which the Major followed up by slipping his tongue in the Earl’s mouth and probing around.

 

The sensation of exploring someone else's mouth was... unusual. He probed the Earl's teeth, slipping his tongue between his cheek and gumline and sliding it around. The Earl groaned and positioned himself in front of the Major, pulling him tightly towards him and breaking the kiss.

 

>"Oh, I'm surprised to see you have experience, then. I was expecting you to be a blushing bride, but I had forgotten that Iron Klaus was King of the Hamburg Nights."<

 

The Major's brow creased, and a look of fury crossed his face. He bent in and bit the Earl's earlobe, which earned him a low moan. Then he whispered, in German, "No. You are the only one I have kissed. Stop talking or you will ruin it."

 

He bit down on the Earl's ear again. He was vaguely alarmed when he could feel the Earl's arousal beginning to stir through the cloth of his pants, and moved quickly back to his mouth. The two began kissing aggressively and vigorously as the Major heard the beginnings of rain pattering through the leaves of the linden tree.

 

They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, with the rain beginning to drip down through the leaves and fall on them. The Earl's hands released their grip from the Major's back, and one ran through what was left of the Major's stubbly hair as the other began fumbling at the buttons of his shirt. The Major froze, and the Earl broke the kiss long enough to comment.

 

>"You really are an amateur. A man your age really ought to learn to do two things at once."<

 

The Major tightened his grip and began kissing him with renewed ardor, focusing on his task as the Earl unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off his shoulders, both men sodden with the pouring rain. He pushed away as he finished the job of undressing the Major, peeling the shirt from his arms. The Major helped him by removing his undershirt. The Earl looked at the Major's bare chest and began running his hands over the muscles and scars that decorated the man.

 

"You don't look a day over 30, Major. I have never seen a man as fit as you are. Never." The Earl had, for whatever reason, switched to English. The Major thought privately to himself that he had rattled the man out of his command of any other language.

 

The Earl began to place tender kisses on the Major’s chest as his hands caressed the Major’s muscular arms, wet with the water running all over the two. The Earl began massaging a nipple with his tongue. The Major watched, supporting himself with one arm on the ground while the other rubbed through the short curls on the Earl's head.

 

The Earl looked up and frowned. "You are a tough nut to crack. I thought you'd be a bit more responsive than this." He began fumbling with the Major's belt.

 

The Major, alarmed, put his hand out to stop him. The Earl looked up briefly, startled, then took his hands away. "No, I'm sorry, I... just thought that..."

 

The Major grew even more alarmed when he realized the thief might get up to leave. "No! I just can't do that. Right now." The Major spoke in German and put his head down so the Earl would not see his face, which he could not control at the moment. It was just too much. Too much to let someone see, to let someone touch him down there. Even him.

 

The Earl looked at him and put his hands on his shoulders and continued in English. "Of course, Major. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just... let me know what you want. As much as I've tried over the years, it is not my aim to make you uncomfortable after finally finding myself in this situation.”

 

The Major growled in German. "You make me uncomfortable no matter what you do."

 

He leaned in and thought about kissing the thief, then tried to think of something that would please him to make up for the denial. He sat forward and put both hands on the Earl's shirt, ripping it in two and buried his face in the man's neck.The Earl groaned aloud as the Major began furiously kissing the Earl all over his neck and chest, pausing to pay special attention to the nipples the same way the Earl had. He noted, slightly disappointed, that the Earl responded with a series of quiet gasps and moans to the stimulation. He himself didn't feel anything when the Earl had done likewise.

 

The Earl eventually pushed him away, gasping. "Please. Would you please do this for me?" The Earl took the Major's hand and guided it to the belt on his pants.

 

The Major pulled his hand away. He looked at the Earl's face, with rain running off his nose and chin. There wasn't anything wrong. He just... couldn't do it. Couldn't touch there on someone else, either. He hoped the Earl understood.

 

The Earl smiled at him and the Major grew relieved. "Of course. If you've never done this before, even with your age, it's not all that strange if you are a little bashful. I was never shy, but I was a curious lad, and have known what I liked even as a boy." The Earl bent in to kiss the Major again, slow and long, the rain still cascading through the leaves and drenching the pair. He broke the kiss and looked at the Major. "You don't mind if I take my pants off, though? It is a little painful. You've still got yours on, and we can't see much, after all.

 

The Major hesitated for a moment, then nodded once, wordlessly. The Earl smiled and sat back as he undid his belt and began peeling his pants and underwear off, revealing his large erection and lying himself, stark naked and wet, on top of the Major, who leaned back against the tree. 

 

The Major got an eyeful. The man was slim but well, muscled, with thin limbs that nonetheless had never failed at any one of the number of physically demanding tasks he'd seen the thief perform, be it jumping an impossible mountain on skis to avoid the KGB, swinging down on a chandelier to engage in a swordfight, climb a mountain, swim through a subzero-lake and pick the lock on a car at the bottom, or even run for his life through a field dressed as a woman. Though his long locks of golden curls were gone, he still had his intense blue eyes that shone even in the darkness, and his skilled fingers went to work running up and down the Major's bare chest.

 

He could feel the thief's erection through his pants, and was relieved when he felt his own stirrings. He began to focus again on the Earl's kisses, seeing what variations got the biggest responses.

 

*****

The Major opened his eyes to find the sun beating down on his face through a gap in the linden branches. He was positively drenched. His head was pounding. He turned his head and found his soiled, soaked shirt laying several yards away. He was slumped against the linden tree with the naked Earl curled up under his arm.

 

He reached his hand in his pocket to retrieve his cigarettes, and found them to be completely ruined. Schiesse. He needed one bad in the morning. From the position of the sun, it was a little after seven and he had oversept. He felt awful, especially since he had no idea what time the two had fallen asleep in each other's arms, or how long they had experimented in the rain. It had still been pouring when the Major had finally sung himself a lullaby with the exhausted Earl in his arms.

 

He pulled a leaf knocked down by the rain from the Earl's short curls, and the man stirred unexpectedly. A thought crossed the Major's mind, and he shook the thief awake, ignoring his groans of protest.

 

>"It is late! Get dressed, we do not need to surprise the groundskeepers on their morning rounds like this!"<

 

The Earl opened his eyes and gazed sleepily up at the Major. "What time is it?" he asked in English.

 

The Major took his arm out from the Earl rather unceremoniously to check his watch. >"It is 07:20. I should have been up nearly an hour ago. You need to get your clothes on now, the butler will be looking for us, wondering what happened!"< he snapped, dumping the Earl from his lap as he stood up, winced from the stiffness, and then walked over to retrieve his shirt. He picked up his undershirt and frowned as he wrung it out. There wasn't anything to be done about the mud stains, on it or his other shirt. He began wringing his overshirt out as well, trying his best to swat the clumps of mud and grass off of it, then bent down to do the same to his pants.

 

The Earl stood up lazily and stretched. The Major's eyes were drawn to the thief's rather natural grace with nudity. In the morning light, the man was a sight to behold, even covered in mud. He winced when he saw the visible signs of their activities all over the Earl's chest. The Earl had responded best when he bit a little as he gave him kisses all over his body, so his chest, arms, stomach, and thighs were covered with angry red marks as well as the sodden mud, grass, and leaves.

 

The Major was sure they both looked frightful. There wouldn't be much hiding from the butler, especially with the Earl's torn shirt, but as long as they weren't caught en flagrante, that was fine. He could shrug off the suspicious looks, largely because of his well-established reputation.

 

The Earl lazily retrieved his briefs from the ground and began walking over to the Major, taking the man in with his eyes as he approached. The Major gave him an irritated glance, wishing the thief would hurry up already, as he tried his best to brush the mud from his chest and face and wipe the mess out of his hair.

 

The Earl reached the Major and gingerly plucked a leaf from his chest and looked at it. >"You know, Siegfried gained immortality by bathing himself in the blood of a dragon he slayed, but his downfall was that a linden tree leaf fell on him during the process, which left him with one weak point on his back. Perhaps it is the same for you, Major."<

 

The Major found himself short-tempered this morning. >"If you have enough wits about you to spout nonsense, then put your clothes on! We need to go back to clean up and appear at breakfast. The staff will be here any minute looking for us."<

 

The Earl gave him a pouty look and began to pull on his underwear. >"You are certainly not a pleasant morning after lover."<

 

>"I don't care what I have to be in order to get you into your clothes! Pants! Belt! Socks! Shoes!  Shirt! Now!"< The Major barked as he pulled on his own undershirt and began buttoning his overshirt. He was secretly very glad that the Earl had not been as eager to get his shirt off as he had.

 

>"But everything is wet! I cannot wear it, the shoes won't be good for my feet!"<

 

>"I won't be good for you in a minute unless you are decent by the time I count to ten!"<

 

At this the Earl started and ran over to put on the rest of his clothes. He pulled on everything but his shirt, and threw that over his arm as he sourly rejoined the Major. The Major looked at the man with disapproval still clear on his face. >"You need to put on your shirt to cover up the marks. It's important."<

 

The Earl gave him what the Major could only categorize as a leer, then pulled the remains of his shirt on over his slight, but muscular frame. >"You didn't seem to think wearing a shirt was very important last night, Major."<

 

The Major's face turned red. >"Do not do this, Eroica! Do not make me mad at you! You are infuriating, and I do not want to deal with it today!"<

 

The Earl straightened his face and saluted, the tattered, sodden, and filthy shirt hanging open at his chest, doing nothing to conceal the marks. "Yes, Major, understood!" he replied in German.

 

The Major turned on his heel and began stalking off in the direction of the castle, assuming the thief would follow. >"Do not call me 'major,' you are not one of my men."<

 

The Earl had indeed followed him, and was keeping pace with his hurried strides, an amused look on his face. >"Oh, that's right, I forgot!  It's Major-General now!"<

 

>"No! Do not address me by title!"<

 

>"Well, then, you don't, either. You only call me "thief" or "Eroica," and sometimes "Earl" if you're trying to be nice."< The Earl paused a moment, then broke out in a grin. >"Then does that mean you would like me to call you Klaus?"<

 

The Major reddened. Hearing it out loud, in the thief's voice was embarrassing. Nobody but his father had called him by his first name in a long time. He didn't like that either, but he didn't say so out loud since that put things back to Major. Or Major-General, he supposed.

 

The Earl picked up on his hesitation. >"No, that's probably too intimate for you."< He mused.  >"I suppose there's no better name than Siegfried."<

 

The Major scowled, but said nothing. He didn't like pet names, but he admitted to himself that it was better than the alternatives. But he knew the thief was tormenting him. A simple thought crossed his mind.

 

>"Very well, but only if I call you Brunhild."<

 

The Earl scowled. >"Ugh. What an inelegant name."<

 

The Major noted there was no other protests. Well, that was settled. It was ridiculous and embarrassing, but he could pretend it was like having a code name.

 

Just then, the Earl stumbled, and without breaking stride, the Major caught him and drug him along until he regained his footing, thinking nothing of the activity. The Earl smiled wanly.

 

>"So. Did you perform your own version of the gerichtslinde under the tree last night?"<

 

The Major pondered the question. He supposed he had. The Earl had passed, though there was still a lot he was going to have to get used to. He would have to figure out how to let the thief know he was welcome to stay in the castle from now on without telling him overtly. He frowned as it occurred to him that it would likely be key in keeping his thoughts together to have the Earl around as much as possible. He knew that he would be a mess if he had to wait for Saturdays as they had been.

 

He avoided the question and offered an anecdote of his own. >"That tree is almost 1,000 years old. It served as the gerichtslinde for the city of Eberbach until about 200 years ago."<

 

The Earl's face brightened. >"Is that so? How unlike you to lose yourself in a reverie like that. But it is good to know. I suppose your family has always been a benevolent presence in Eberbach, or your castle would have been razed centuries ago."<

 

>"Yes. We were the lords of the region until they got rid of that system. It had always frightened me as a boy, knowing that and knowing what happened to the lords in France. I always thought, when I was young, that the villagers would come up if they heard I'd done something wrong and guillotine me."<

 

The Earl laughed. >"I suppose that's where you get your strong sense of right and wrong, then, having been frightened straight by the guillotine as a boy. I can't say that thought ever crossed my mind."<

 

The Major exhaled and wished for a cigarette for the second time in ten minutes. >"No, that was my father again. He was the one who told me about the Guillotine and the tree."<

 

The Earl was quiet a moment, then spoke softly and seriously. >"I take it your father would have been pleased with your new rank?"<

 

The Major snorted. >"No, my father raised through the ranks very quickly. During the war, he got promoted all the way to Lieutenant General and General der Panzertruppen."<

 

The Earl frowned. >"Certainly he would be proud of you for earning the rank by withstanding torture. It was quite an ordeal. You're blind in one eye, for God's sake."<

 

The Major snorted again, amused by the Earl's efforts to make the Major remember his father. He knew the man had been on good terms with his own, but... well. >"No. He was captured and kept as a POW in England after the war. Though the English didn't torture him. He did have his nose shot off in France during the first war, though. He had a rubber nose. His face without it was terrifying."<  The Major shuddered at the memory.

 

The Earl laughed again. >"I'm... I'm sorry, it's just such an amusing mental image. You as a small boy being terrified by your noseless father."< The Earl sobered up. >"But he sounds like a real war hero."< He frowned. >"And he must have been quite old when he had you."<

 

It was the Major's turn to let a reluctant bark of laughter slip. >"Yes. He was over fifty years old when I was born. The relic was over 100 when he died. I have no idea how he did it, he was shot several times during both wars. But yes. He was a war hero, such as it was. They kept his Wehrmacht uniform and awards and have it on display at the Deutches Panzermuseum in Munster."<

 

The Earl was quiet for several minutes, watching as they approached closer and closer to the castle. >"A hard act to follow, then. A father who lives as a war hero and is too old to remember what it's like to be a boy."<

 

>"Yes."< The Major wished desperately once again for a cigarette, and hoped that the Earl would drop the conversation.

 

The Earl was only quiet for a few minutes before he spoke up. >"You know, we could just slip in through your bedroom window. You know, climb up the wall to get there. It's not terribly hard. Then we wouldn't have to have this confrontation with your butler that you seem to be dreading."<

 

The Major frowned. He'd be damned if he was going to break into his own house. >"It is like you to think of that. No, he would have already checked the bedroom and found it empty. We cannot... just sneak in through the window like delinquent schoolboys. We will go in through the front door like men."<

 

>"Through the Gates of Hell it is, then!"< The Earl cheered enthusiastically, taking the Major's arm.

 

The two made it into the castle within the next several minutes, the Major disengaging his arm from the Earl to open the front door. He brushed past the confused-looking butler, offering the simple explanation that the two would take a few minutes to clean up, then would be down for breakfast. The Earl held his tattered shirt together, mercifully, but there was no hiding their sodden, filthy clothing, or the fact they had been out all night in the pouring rain.

 

Nor could he hide the thief's radiant smile. Schiesse.

 

*****

 

The Earl stayed silent as he was led through the castle and to the Major's private quarters. He had seen them the day before, of course, and on several other night ventures to leave birthday and Christmas presents while the Major slept. But the room never failed to disappoint him. The Major had taken down all decorations and non-essential items from all the rooms in his suite, and the only thing to rest the eyes on was the rather sparse furniture. It was centuries old and beautifully carved, but his bedroom had only a bed, an armoire, and a tall chest of drawers, his study had only a desk, several bookcases, and an ancient sofa with a low table in front of it, for what purpose the Earl could not imagine. There was also a tiny guest bedroom off the study which contained only a small bed that had been stripped of its sheets. The bathroom, a modern addition in the corner of the study, held only floor-to-ceiling white tile, a large, claw-footed bathtub with a modern shower fixture and curtain ring suspended above it, a toilet, and an old-fashioned sink with a mirror above it.

 

Aside from the furniture, the Earl imagined that this was what it was like to be in prison. There were only small windows, high up on the wall, and none in the dim cell of the guest bedroom.

 

It was just the Major all over, and he simultaneously despaired at the lack of presence and rejoiced at being allowed into the Major's private quarters.

 

He watched as the Major began going through his armoire, selecting a few outfits out. >"You are smaller than I am, but you will have to wear my clothes today. Here."< He said, tossing a drab button-down shirt, a pair of plain black pants, an undershirt, and a pair of briefs on the bed. He chose a similar outfit for himself, but with brown pants and a tie, and took it with him into the bathroom.

 

>"Wait!"< The Earl called out, following him into the bathroom. >"You really expect me to put on clean clothes without showering? After rolling around in the mud all night? You're out of your head."< He put his hands on his hips and gave the Major his best condescending glare.

 

The Major hesitated. >"Well? So wait until I am finished and get dressed, then join me for breakfast downstairs. It makes no difference to me."<

 

The Earl raised his eyebrows. >"Well, no, that's not what I had in mind. I was thinking we would go down to breakfast together."<

 

>"No. I'm too hungry to wait for you to finish. You will take forever with your degenerate primping."<

 

The Earl raised his eyebrows even further as a smile broke out on his face. >"Oh, my degenerate primping? Normally you would be right, but as you can see, this facility lacks the accoutremants of my own bathroom in England. I lack the tools to primp with. Also, my hair no longer requires the care I formally gave it, and I am not spending the time with my wardrobe. No, my preparations today will be brief. Though I did have something a little degenerate in mind, I will admit."<

 

The Major frowned. He saw where the Earl was going. Well, he supposed it would save time. Or not, he supposed he didn't really care at this point.

 

The Earl grinned mischievously as he began a silly striptease where he peeled off his sodden clothes once again.

 

*****

 

The Earl of Gloria positively beamed as he consumed his simple breakfast of dry toast while seated across the table from the Major. The Major glowered at him, but that only caused his grin to widen.

 

He simply could not take his eyes off the man. Could not believe his good luck. All those years! After all those years, why now? Had he finally realized he was gay? Had that near miss made him realize what the Earl meant to him? It truly puzzled Dorian whenever he thought on it. But then he would always decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and go along with the good fortune fate had offered him lately.

 

He watched the line of the Major's muscular jaw work as he chewed his breakfast, watched him squint angrily as he quickly went over his morning paper, saw the slight relief in his brow as he took a sip of his beloved Nescafe. His attentions eventually stopped drifting over to Dorian, he assumed on purpose, since he was making no secret of his study. He looked at the Major's eyes as they took in the lines on the page, then moved over the small nicks and scars that covered his face, less prominent in the morning after he'd shaved, but they'd left small spots where facial hair didn't grow, and the Major was the type of man who had a pretty thick beard in the morning.

 

His eye being blind had disturbed Dorian when he had seen it. He had prepared himself for the possibility, but he didn't think it would actually happen... one of those things you hear about, but don't expect, because why would something bad happen to someone like the Major?  Of course, he had wondered how the Major had withstood all the beating without actually having his brains spilled out over the floor, so he supposed an eye wasn't too terrible a thing to lose in comparison. The eye still looked like it worked, the pupil still dilated the same as the other eye, and the muscles moved it across the page as if it were taking in the words as well, but the color gave away the fact it was not at 100%. Dorian wondered if anyone other than himself would notice, then quickly reminded himself that spies tended to pick up on everything. The Major certainly did. Still, Dorian wondered if he could fake it for just a bit longer. He knew his job was everything to the Major, as much as Dorian tried to work his way into his life, and he would hate to think what would happen if he didn't have that to keep his mind occupied.

 

The scar next to his now-gray eye was still red-looking, but it was short, much smaller than he had imagined when it was described to him at the hospital. The one over his eye was longer and deeper, but still narrow. Thankfully, the man had only split the skin and not torn it, so it was not wide and would likely fade quite cleanly in a couple months. Besides, the Major would have his rather luscious, raven-black hair back by then.

 

Dorian's eyes moved up to his scalp, where his short hair was still growing back. It looked like a pretty normal short haircut, but he could tell by the man's morning routine that not having his hair long bothered him as much as it did Dorian. He saw the glance at the hairbrush and heard the quiet curse in German as he had looked at the mirror over his bureau while he was getting dressed that morning.

 

Dorian wondered idly if it was a vanity that kept the Major from keeping his hair in a standard military cut. He couldn't imagine what other reason he would have. He let himself briefly entertain a fantasy that it was a kink, and perhaps the Major enjoyed playing with long hair during sex. 

 

His heart sank a little at that thought. It was one of his own kinks, and he missed his golden curls more than he would ever admit. Playing dead while that awful man had cut his hair in the cell had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He would have preferred to be beaten about the face than lose his hair, it was his greatest vanity. Shaving what had been left afterwards had been easy. When he saw the Major had been scalped, he'd merely done it as a silent gesture of sympathy. He had no idea where the Major stood on the affectation of long hair, but after the hint this morning, he suspected it had been the right move. The Major had not asked him about why he had clearly shaved his head, but he suspected he knew anyway. So much went unsaid between them. It was both a blessing that they knew each other so well, and a kind of curse for Dorian's romantic heart, as well.

 

He finished off his first piece of toast as he thought back to the night before. The Major had been a great deal more shy than even he had been expecting. He was fifty years old, for God's sake, and he was acting like a schoolgirl! Dorian had gotten naked as a matter of course, hoping it would make the Major more comfortable, but he couldn't get him to take more than his shirt off, though his pants had vanished at some point later, probably after he had fallen asleep.  Dorian suspected The Major did it to spite him somehow. A pity. He couldn't even get him to take Dorian's pants off for him, though that shirt removal had been right up Dorian's alley. He closed his eyes and made his body remember the sensations from the night before. Yes, there had been a great deal to like about it, even if they hadn't gotten very far.

 

He had been expecting that the Major liked it rough. His bites mixed in with his kisses had been no surprise, and quite a relief to the Earl, since Dorian liked his sex play with a little bit of an edge. He hoped the Major would be willing to explore more options in the future.

 

Dorian frowned as he took a sip of his tea, remembering the one other thing that had disturbed him. The Major hadn't really... responded to anything Dorian had been doing. He had been eager enough for the caresses, and more than happy to kiss. Oh, he was a delightful kisser, better than Dorian could have hoped. His natural authoritativeness made his kisses hard and long, and very, very passionate. The tea was spoiling the memory of the taste of the Major in his mouth, who had tasted like cigarettes and something wonderful. Sometimes the smoking got on his nerves, but Dorian thought about picking the habit back up himself for the inevitable times he would be separated from the Major in the future.

 

But he couldn't get any sort of positive response out of the Major for anything he did. He had teased the man's nippies, licked them, bitten them, sucked them, done damn near everything he could think of. The Major had been eager enough to work on Dorian's own, and it had pleased him greatly. But he didn't seem to appreciate the return. He had also tried to return the rough kisses the Major had given him, but was mildly annoyed that the only response had been a request not to bite his neck or arms.

 

As for other signs of arousal... Dorian had begged the Major at least once to finish him off, just use his hand to stroke his penis so that he could come. He had needed to badly after about ten minutes with the Major, he had been so aroused and excited. But the Major had declined, which had baffled the Earl. I mean, what do you do in that situation? He continued for a few minutes, but his balls had begun to throb with the need to ejaculate, so he had to embarrass himself by turning away to finish. He had to do that two other times that night. He had asked for help the second time too, and merely excused himself the third time.

 

Really. Was it more embarrassing to touch someone whose nipples you were biting on their genitals than to have them masturbate in front of you while you wait to continue? The logic and modesty had been baffling and a little bit infuriating, but the Earl had to remind himself of his position and how precarious he was. He had no idea why the Major had suddenly opened his arms to the Earl, and he was deathly afraid that everything could end. It was a fear that had made him nearly sick while he was recovering. The pain of his operation and wounds had been nothing compared to the thought of losing Klaus forever because he had been silly enough to let himself get captured. He knew he would continue to follow the Major no matter what he said, but... after having his friendship, he felt like it almost would have been too painful to see him knowing that they would never really talk again.

 

Dorian had worked himself into a rather negative frame of mind as he focused on the last part of what had bothered him about last night. Despite the fact that Dorian could barely contain his sexual excitement, the Major had hardly become erect. He had been waiting for a full erection so that he could undo the Major's belt and free it from his trousers. It had gotten hard, but never reached a state of full erection. The problem really weighed heavily on Dorian's mind.

 

Well, perhaps it took a little more to arouse the Major than second base. He would have to work at the problem a little more. It was hard to imagine that the Major wasn't as excited about the new stage in their relationship as Dorian was, but Dorian had to remind himself that the Major had likely not had erotic dreams about Dorian every night for the past twelve years the same way the Earl had.

 

But oh! That rain! Those kisses! His teeth! The feel of his calloused hands roving all over his naked body! It had been even better than Dorian's wildest dreams. He could not believe his luck. And all there below that lucky linden tree. He'd have to remember to return and thank it later.

 

After they'd both spent themselves as much as they could on passion, they had collapsed into the soggy mud below the tree, amidst its roots, and slept. Dorian had curled with his head against the Major's slouched chest, right into the Major's arm, draped around him. He had thrown his leg over the Major's and held his arms around the man's chest and slept as he hadn't in several months. He was so, so glad that his feelings were returned. He was glad that he hadn't chased the man on a simple sexual whim all these years. The previous year had taught Dorian that Major Klaus Hinz von dem Eberbach really was his soul mate. They were a match physically, emotionally, and intellectually. It really was more than he could hope.

 

The shower this morning had been a little less fun than he'd expected. In fact, it had been downright disappointing. For whatever reason, the Major had not felt uncomfortable getting undressed in front of Dorian in the full light of morning. Dorian's mouth had watered at the sight of the Major's well-muscled body. He could feel himself stirring just thinking about it now, and he allowed himself a smile and his eyes to return to the Major, drifting over his torso and under the table. His rear alone would have been all he needed, but the Earl knew that the use of his rear for other than its intended purpose was strictly verboten. But aside from that, those huge muscled thighs, the well-defined calves, and the rippling muscles on his chest, combined with those big arms... it was too much. The muscles weren't too big... the Earl frowned as he recalled some fantasies that had ended unpleasantly when the Major had had the build of a professional bodybuilder, but goodness! They were just right.

 

Unfortunately, nothing had happened in the shower. It was big enough for two. The Major stoically ignored him as he set about washing himself. He had even pushed Dorian away when he'd tried to caress him and start with kisses. He had been nearly angry with the Major's tease, but just watching the man bend over and move around to wash himself while naked had necessitated another private session that needed to wait until the Major was out of the shower. God, that had taken forever, the Earl thought he wouldn't make it once again.

 

Damn that frigid German. He would have him moaning his name yet. His balls positively ached with every movement this morning, and he hoped the Major wouldn't suggest a leisurely stroll anytime soon.

 

Well, there was more to life than sex, after all. A thought occurred to him, and he wondered how the Major was at chess. He smiled as the man looked across the table with a straight face as he folded his newspaper and drained the last of his coffee.

 

Dorian happily suggested just that.

 

*****

 

The Major had to admit to himself, he was curious how well the thief played chess. Nobody had ever beaten the Major, not after he had finally defeated his father in his teens, but then again, not many people had enough courage to ask the Major to play any game.

 

But the damn smile on the thief's face. The butler would know. He scowled as he got up from the table. That crafty butler probably already knew, as old as he was. None of his business.

 

He caught the thief wincing out of the corner of his eye as he stood up from the table and frowned. What had they done last night that had hurt the thief? They hadn't done anything terribly strenuous. Unless... was he still suffering from the injuries from the incident?

 

>"Hey!"< He began, standing and waiting by the doorway into one of the parlors while he waited for the Earl to catch up with him. >"Why didn't you tell me your injuries were still bothering you? You infuriating degenerate! Go home to your doctor instead of staying out all night!"< The Major pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one as the man approached.

 

The Earl's face went from smiling to blank. >"My injuries? What are you talking about? That hasn't bothered me in over a month. My surgery was successful and the rest of it was just bumps and scratches. How could any of that actually bother me?"<

 

>"Do not lie to me, thief.  I saw you wince when you got up from the table. Did... did something we did last night re-injure your ribs, perhaps?"< The Major lost his furious tone, but still managed to look stern. He couldn't bear hurting the man, even if the thief was silent about it.

 

Rather than the sheepish look the Major was expecting, the Earl's face creased into a frown. It was the most cross the Major could recall seeing him look. It was worse, even, than all those times he sent him on wild goose chases in the Sahara desert looking for long lost treasure while the area was being bombed.

 

The Earl answered him in English. "Oh, no, it's not my previous injuries, Major von dem Eberbach. Quite frankly, if you must know why I'm having trouble walking today, it's because you are a lousy lover! Do you not know what happens if you make your lover wait when he needs to come? Honestly!" The Earl huffed and brushed past him, walking a bit slower than the Major could recall his stride.

 

The Major's face flamed red and he remained silent. He scanned his mind for clues about what the Earl was talking about, but he had no idea. Did it really hurt if the Major didn't... well, touch him to help out? Was it really the Major's fault that he had been injured? 

 

What?

 

Schiesse. This business was more complicated than he wanted to think about. He took a long drag on his cigarette and waited momentarily in the hallway for his facial color to go down. He was not giving the thief the pleasure of seeing him so out of sorts.

 

He started when he saw the Butler waiting in the doorway from the dining room, just ten feet away. How long had he been there? Did he speak English? The Major scanned his memory, but really couldn't remember. Some of the old folks couldn't, he silently prayed the butler was among them.

 

>"Sir, I was wondering if you wanted coffee brought into the game with you."<

 

Right. The older ones were more likely to know the old language. Great. The Major kept his face straight and answered in German. "Yes. Coffee would be fine, thank you." He finished his cigarette and realized he would need to smoke at least one more. Right away.

 

The Butler nodded, smiled, then raised his voice. "Earl Gloria?  Would you like tea brought in?" He asked in English.

 

"Yes, please!" Came the cheery, muffled reply from inside the room.

 

"Right away, sir!" The butler turned and then vanished into the dining room.

 

Schiesse.

 

He lit another cigarette, took a deep drag, and went into the room where the Earl was waiting, somehow with the crystal chess set set up on a table between two overstuffed armchairs.

 

He rolled his eyes. Trust the thief to know where everything was kept. He didn't give him the satisfaction of a response as he sat down at the opposite chair.

 

The Earl looked slightly disappointed as he took the first move.

 

*****

 

After four straight losses, Dorian finally conceded defeat. He tipped his king over sourly and glanced up to see the Major grinning sarcastically and putting a cigarette between his lips. He looked positively angelic when he smiled, but the smile was never for the right reasons.

 

The Earl sighed and pushed himself back in the chair, staring at the ceiling and wondering what came next. It was too early to eat another meal, and he still didn't care to go for a walk. He didn't dare try his luck in the bedroom again, he didn't think himself so lucky. Surprisingly, the Major spoke up, and even more surprisingly, he sounded as if he was in a truly good mood.

 

>"What have you done these past two months to pass the time?"<

 

Dorian arched his eyebrows. It was extremely uncharacteristic of the Major to inquire into his affairs, especially since he didn't particularly want the details. He was always a good sport about listening the Earl gush occasionally over a new toy, he just didn't want to know the hows and whys.

 

Even so. Dorian sighed and looked over at the man. >"Well, not much. I've stayed at home, mostly. Recovering, moping, being in a bad mood, you know. I'm sure you had much the same problems here. I believe that trip I took to America was the first time I'd left home since I got back."<

 

The Major didn't answer, simply stared across at the Earl. It always unsettled the Earl when he did this. It had been his habit for years, but lately the Earl was having to read more into the silence. Or maybe he shouldn't. It would never do to get his hopes up when it came to the Major. But he was going to be either very angry... for whatever reason, the man got angry at the drop of a hat, or he was thinking about Dorian. Dorian preferred the latter, but again, he had been conditioned over a number of years to think that foolish.

 

Still looking content, the Major broke the silence as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. >"I was mostly bedridden. I left on a 4-day trip as soon as I was clear to leave bed. The doctor was not pleased when I returned. I haven't left since then. I am tired of sitting around the house."< The Major paused awkwardly and looked away before continuing. >"Would you care for a drive?"<

 

It really was adorable how bashful the man was. He wouldn't have suspected this level of sensitivity from the Major. Then again, he was also surprisingly insensitive about a lot of things. But these new sides of him were quite endearing. 

 

And most importantly, a drive wouldn't require walking. The Earl pulled himself gingerly from the seat and took a bow. >"I would be delighted. The destination does not interest me. We can go where you like."< He snapped back up straight and smiled. >"Perhaps we could stay out the rest of the day. I would like to eat dinner out, maybe."<

 

The Major stubbed out his cigarette and stood. >"Good.  My Mercedes hasn't been run in two months. It needs to be driven just as much as I need to be out of this house."< He began walking out of the room and towards the front entrance.

 

The Earl followed, and grinned once again as they passed through the Rodin doorway. >"Most people wouldn't mind being cooped up in a castle as large as yours, I must say."<

 

The Major's steps grew more heavy and he picked up the stride and cadence he used while on missions. The Earl had to trot to keep up with him as they made their way to the Mercedes, parked in the U-shaped lane. The Major unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel, gripping it for a moment before starting the engine and waiting for the Earl to get himself situated.

 

>"Most people were not raised in the von dem Eberbach family."< The Major offered crisply before pulling away at a decent clip.

 

Dorian had to laugh. He really was just the Major through and through.

 

*****

 

He was not laughing when they got to their location, however. He hadn't minded the rather scenic drive through Germany. It had even prompted a nice conversation between the two.

 

*****

 

"Oh, damn." Dorian had said aloud in English as they passed a road sign.

 

"What?" The Major responded in English as well.

 

"It's that rotten poem. I have it stuck in my head."

 

"Please do me the favor of not reciting poetry on this trip." The Major replied drily.

 

"I can't help it. It's like a cold. It runs through my head until I get it out. I hate it. This is the only one that won't leave me alone until I say it out loud."

 

The Major grumbled and cursed in German under his breath. Dorian smiled and continued.

 

"You know, passing the signs did it. You shouldn't have taken this way. The town name. I can't help it. 'Hamelin town's in Brunswick, by famous Hanover city;  The River Weser, deep and wide, washes its wall on the southern side;  A pleasanter spot you never spied;  But, when begins my ditty, almost five hundred years ago, to see townsfolk suffer so from vermin, was a pity. Rats!'"

 

"Enough!" bellowed the Major. "Your usual degenerate poetry is too much, do not make it rhyme!"

 

"See! That's why it gets stuck in my head! I had to memorize the whole thing as a boy and recite it when I was eight. The damn thing won't leave me alone. It runs through my head all the way whenever I am reminded of it." Dorian pouted. "There's just nothing to be done about it."

 

The Major fumed silently for a few minutes. They rode in silence. Then, to Dorian's complete shock, the Major spoke.

 

"Wer ist der bunte Mann im Bilde?  Er führet Böses wohl im Schilde, Er pfeift so wild und so bedacht; Ich hätt mein Kind ihm nicht gebracht..."

 

The Major cut himself off, then continued in German. "Damn you, thief, now I have that running through my head, too! A lot of childish rhyming nonsense."

 

Dorian had to keep from laughing out loud. The Major looked genuinely cross, and he probably was. All the same, the poetry practically begged to be commented on. And he knew the Major would forgive him the push. In a little while, at least.

 

"So I take it you were forced to memorize "Der Rattenfänger von Hamelin" as a boy? How delightful! And what a coincidence that we should both know our country's matched rhymed verse on the same topic." The Earl continued his side of the conversation in English, while the Major continued in German.

 

"Yes, yes." The Major snapped. "I had to memorize it and recite it in front of a group of sisters when I was 10. Bloody embarrassing. It was the last time I've ever had to do something like that."

 

"Oh, that's not true!" The Earl interjected without thinking. "You performed that lovely Tyrolean dance in Salzberg for everyone but me! I've never quite forgiven you for that, you know." The Earl pursed his lips as he realized he had just crossed a line he probably shouldn't have. He watched the Major out of the corner of his eye.

 

He was not disappointed. The Major snapped and began to yell. "Wanker! I had completely wiped that incident from my mind! What a bloody disaster, thanks to you! That entire mission was a mess, you botched absolutely everything at every turn! And you..."

 

"Major! Do not launch yourself into such a tantrum while you are driving!"

 

"Hmpf." The Major clenched his jaw and let the tide of his anger recede before continuing.  "You bloody degenerate. Dressing in women's clothes and making me dance the Emperor's Waltz with you. And you still never gave me that photo back! I've never been so close to killing you as I was that night. I was ready to send A and B on a mission of national security, soas not to let my image fall into the wrong hands." The Major smirked. There had been a good reason to get the photo back, even if he knew the thief wasn't going to be giving it to anyone.

 

"Hmf." The Earl snorted. "You wouldn't have danced with me if I hadn't dressed in women's clothes. I thought it was a just reward for taking a punch from that awful Russian. The picture was just part of the payment." Dorian crossed his arms and closed his eyes as he settled back into the seat in a pout. "I deserved a reward for my work recovering the microfilm that time." His eyes snapped open as he turned to the Major. "And what about your image falling into the wrong hands! Is your face a state secret? Funny that billions of people saw it when you rode up with the English Crown Jewels in front of Gorbachev and the Queen."

 

Dorian felt his heart leap into his throat as the Major jerked the wheel suddenly to the side and forced the Mercedes off the road and into a dead stop.

 

The Major turned and fixed the Earl with a glare that Dorian knew had caused many spies and terrorists to cough up secrets over the years. 

 

Dorian grinned. Ever since the first time the Major had pulled his punches for him, it had never worked.

 

He continued to smile angelically as the Major pounded his fists into the steering wheel and swore long and loud in German for several minutes. He finished and sat in silence for a few minutes, then lit a cigarette and started the car back up to swing back out into the highway traffic.

 

Dorian frowned. It was not wise to bring the matter up now, but the Major had always been something of a terrifying driver. He wasn't sure that not having any depth perception due to his recently lost eye would help matters much, but it couldn't make much difference on a Sunday drive. And if it did, well... at least he'd be dying together with the Major, right?

 

The Major spoke again, bringing the Earl out of his worries. "You were ten times more trouble than the KGB ever was while it was active. You've sent me running on more wild goose chases across more countries than all of my enemies combined."

 

"What would you have done without me? I know you loved pulling off those complicated missions, and I loved seeing you. You can't tell me that your missions have been as exciting since you made me promise to be good."

 

The Major sighed. Dorian knew he had scored a point. The Major loved nothing more than bossing people around and figuring out complicated maneuvers. In addition to being assigned more and more old-man missions, even the best missions had been much less rewarding without the Earl. He could tell by the way the Major spoke of them briefly, compared to how he spoke of his old missions.

 

Of course, the Major would never admit that to Dorian. Dorian smiled, knowing the silence was damning him anyway.

 

After another minute of silence, the Major broke through again, still speaking in German. "I was embarrassed to recite that poem in front of the sisters when I was ten because it was something I had known since I was much younger. That story had always fascinated me."

 

"Oh?" The Earl continued his half of the conversation in English. "The fairy tale about not following strangers."

 

The Major turned his head to look at Dorian with his good eye, then turned back to the road. "No. It was no fairy tale. It was true, they think. The earliest documented history of the town was a ten-year commemoration of the disappearance of the children."

 

The blood drained from the Earl's face. "What?"

 

"Yes, all the children really did disappear from Hamelin. It was why the story fascinated me as a child. It was a lesson not to talk to strangers and to be good, but... when I was young, it made me think about what that real person could have done to lure all the children out. The fairy tales didn't have much interest for me, but that one did, because an entire village of children disappeared without a trace.

 

Dorian faced forward. He always had a slight belief in the supernatural, and quite frankly, the idea of the pied piper as a real person terrified him. "No. It can't be real. How did it happen? He couldn't have taken every child in town, only a few."

 

The Major shrugged. "That writing still exists, on the side of a building in Hamelin called the Piper's House. The commemoration doesn't say how it happened, and the oral stories only offer the music explanation.  It really must have been a compelling song he played."

 

"Well. What did he do with the children?"

 

"It is not known. He simply vanished. As an adult, I don't like to think about it."

 

"Oh."

 

Well, thought Dorian, that had certainly put a damper on his good time. He stared out the passenger window and watched the sun set behind the hills. The two were silent for several minutes, and another thought occurred to Dorian.

 

"We haven't turned back for Bonn yet. Where are we going? Do you have a destination in mind?"

 

The Major smiled as he puffed on his cigarette. "The famous city that Hamelin is near."

 

Dorian looked puzzled. "Hamburg?"

 

"Yes."

 

*****

Really. What a childish trick. The Major smiled jovially as he led the way through the crowded street. The Earl frowned as the women gave him an appraising look as the two strolled past. He wasn't sure if he should feel good or bad that he was wearing the Major's clothes. He was dressed in light gray slacks and a tight-fitting thin green long-sleeved shirt with a kind of turtleneck collar. He was also wearing a pair of the Major's brown loafers. The pants were a bit too long, but everything else fit like a glove. It had pleased him immensely to put on the Major's clothes while the man himself watched, scowling, from the other side of the room.

 

All the same, it's not what he would have worn on a date with Klaus, and it's certainly not what he would have worn to this particular location. Then again, he'd heard the women attack those they suspect aren't paying customers, and his usual attire did tend to take away any doubts about Dorian's preferences.

 

Ugh. He couldn't believe the Major had taken him to the Reeperbahn. They reached a bar the Major seemed to know, and he beamed as he held the door open for the glowering Dorian. A sex club. How classy.

 

"I hope we can eat food in here." The Earl said in English as he brushed past the Major in the doorway.

 

"The food here is excellent!" The Major said, smiling broadly and speaking in English with a perfect American accent.

 

The Earl shook his head as he let the Major lead the way. "I take it you've been here before, then?" he asked, deciding not to comment on the bizarre change in habit just to spite the man.

 

"Yes," the Major continued, still sounding like the perfect American, "When I was younger. It infuriated me, so I left. But the food was delicious, well worth the four hour drive from Bonn."

 

Dorian rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt that." He looked down at the table, then looked up, determined to get a small measure of revenge. "Oh, that's right!  I had forgotten what Lawrence told me all those years ago! Of course you would know the Reeperbahn, you're King of the Hamburg nights!"

 

The smile quickly left the Major's face. He glared at the thief. "That awful mission with Lawrence is not one I like to dwell on."

 

The Earl smiled, slightly satisfied, then let his mind wander back to his current predicament. He let his gaze wander around the room, where several topless women were waiting on tables in the dimly lit hall. There were several spiral staircases leading up to the second floor, and some girls dancing on stage. A heavy electronic beat pulsed in the background.

 

Right.

 

The two slid into a booth with rich plush upholstery on the wall in the alcove surrounding it. A woman made her way over quickly and spoke in German about the services offered. She turned to Dorian first, who frowned and took the path of least resistance.

 

"Ich spreche nicht Deutche, I'm afraid." The Earl said, shaking his head sadly and waving his hand towards the Major.

 

"Huh?" The Major continued, still using his flawless American accent. He looked at the girl. "Sorry, I don't speak German. Do you speak English? Can we eat dinner first?"

 

The girl's face fell, and she ran off. Another girl quickly approached the table. Her English was broken, and the Major toyed with her confusion quite a bit, but ultimately they were served what Dorian had to admit was a very excellent meal with two fine bottles of wine. The two chatted off and on in English through the meal, the Major continuing to use the accent. The Earl almost wanted to laugh and ask about it, but he knew the Major well enough to know it was probably for the best they pretend like they couldn't understand the German the girls were speaking that periodically walked up to the table.

 

A short while after the meal, the two rose and left, and the Major led the way out to the now-dark main street. Dorian followed silently, puzzled as to their next destination. The meal had been good, but the Major had already had his joke. The girls staring like hungry wolves unnerved him. 

 

"Um." He began, catching up to the Major. "You are going to... work tomorrow morning, yes? Won't we need to drive back to Bonn before it gets very late?" Dorian was impatient. All the time spent here and lost in the car was time he wasn't going to be able to experiment with the Major's limits. He put his hand on the man's shoulder and stopped him, looking into his eyes. 

 

The Major looked back at the Earl with a completely straight face. "We are flying back to Koln, and I will have someone pick us up there. It will take too long to drive back. I will retrieve my car from here tomorrow." He continued with the perfect American accent. 

 

The Major's face did not betray his thoughts, but the Earl smiled and laughed anyway. "All right.  We'll fly back to Bonn. I have to ask, though, why the Reeperbahn?"

 

The Major continued out to a main street and began waving down a taxi. "It is a rare thing to see you so uncomfortable." He smiled, continuing on with his American ruse.

 

"Really!" The Earl was indignant. "You really don't need to go to such lengths for that, though."

 

"Oh? And you haven't done more elaborate things to make me angry over the years? You showed up in Alaska and put an entire KGB in the hospital before they could interfere with a mission? How about all those times in Greece? Rome? What about stealing the Pope, then getting caught by the police?"

 

"Well." The Major had a point. "The Pope wasn't just to make you angry, you know. He was a wonderful heist. That cemented my place at the top of the Rogue's Gallery, you know."

 

"The others?"

 

"Couldn't help it, darling. I love seeing you terrify everyone around you." He smiled as the taxi pulled up and they both got in.

 

"Idiot." The Major muttered as he settled himself in and gave the instructions to drive to the airport.

 

The Earl couldn't help himself. "I have to ask, where did you pick up that delightful accent?"

 

"The American?"

 

"Yes."

 

The Major lit a cigarette, ignoring the cross looks he was getting from the driver. "Work." He said simply.

 

The Earl frowned, wanting more of an explanation, but he figured the Major would not give it in front of the driver. Nor would he likely give it later. The Earl sighed and his thoughts roamed over their earlier conversation. He recalled a photo of himself he'd had taken with the Turkish Agent Z. His face brightened.

 

"You aren't looking forward to going back to work tomorrow, are you?"

 

"No."

 

"Then let me go in your place."

 

"What!"

 

"I'd wear that old wig. Nobody would notice."

 

"No! I will not let..." His voice trailed off as he looked at the driver out of the corner of his eye.  He was silent a moment, and then continued in Russian. "I will not let one of the International Criminal Police Organization's most wanted into the North Atlantic Treaty Organization using my clearance!"

 

"No acronyms today?" To push a little harder, Dorian continued his side of the conversation in English.

 

"Quiet! No more on the subject!" The Major settled back into his seat, fuming.

 

The Earl humored him by continuing in Russian. "But you don't want to go! It's just a ceremony, and I know you'll lose your top at everyone. You're mad about it. Wire me if you have to, but I think it'll be fun to play you for a day."

 

"NO!"

 

"Aside from principles, what's the harm? You know I won't steal anything in your office. I have no interest in state secrets. I will have fun. You won't have to suffer through it. You can come back on Tuesday, saying you wore the wig for the ceremony. Or just keep wearing it until your hair grows back, what difference does it make? And honestly, who would notice? Your Chief?  The Personnel staff? The other spies? A? D? You've hired me to impersonate you before to full the Russians! I'm good, you know that."

 

The Major was fuming. He gave no response.

 

"Well, then, I'll let you think about it."

 

They reached the airport. The Major leaned across to pay the driver, then as the Earl and Major were getting out of opposite sides of the car, the Earl heard the driver call out "Have a nice evening, Gentlemen!" in Russian.

 

The Major swore in German all the way to the ticket desk.

 

*****

 

The Major handled the airport about as well as the Earl had expected. Since the Earl had left his passport in Bonn, the Major had to play NATO Intelligence with a prisoner to get him a seat on the plane. The clerk at the desk hadn't believed him since he didn't presently resemble his photo, but after several minutes of harassing the girl and a call to her supervisor, the Major had been cleared. The Earl snickered as they were given tickets. Clearly her supervisor had dealt with Major von dem Eberbach before. Only the real Major could make demands that necessitated calls to supervisors.

 

They waited a half hour in the airport, the Earl sitting silently and playing the part of a good prisoner while the Major read the evening paper. He knew better than to act up at the airport and blow their cover, and any pleasant conversation with the Major was out of the question. So he watched the crowd.

 

His eyes went to a pair of young men that came to the gate wearing matching green t-shirts and blue jeans. Both were identical blondes, with faces out of Greek myth. The Earl's eyebrows arched as he watched them bend and attend to their luggage. From their conversation, they were twins attending graduate school in Koln. Theology students. Delightful. 

 

He turned back to the Major after several minutes to find him glaring at the Earl over his paper. 

 

"Do not corrupt the youth of Germany, you degenerate!"

 

"I didn't say anything, I was merely appreciating what was in front of me."

 

The Major lit a cigarette. "Whatever." He stated, as he went back to his newspaper huffing.

 

The Earl frowned. He had hoped to see some seeds of jealousy, but he supposed he would never be so lucky. After all, he had chased the Major for twelve years. It was obvious he was dedicated to the man. And he was sure the Major knew that his flirting was harmless and automatic. He sighed and let his mind wander a bit, his eyes landing on an ad on the back of the paper for an exhibition of the work of Rosa Bonheur in Munich. He let his mind wander over the delightful animal portraits the woman did. Horses mostly, which was a pity, but there was something about her style. Perhaps something at the exhibition would catch his eye.

 

*****

 

The flight passed uneventfully, and before long, they were pulling back into the Major's castle in a Mercedes identical to the one the Major had left in Hamburg. It was dark, but still relatively early in the evening. Dorian sensed as they were getting out of the car that the Major was at something of a loss, so Dorian took the lead through The Gates of Hell and began walking back towards the stairway that led up to the Major's suite of rooms, not looking behind him to see if the Major or the driver was following.

 

When he reached the door of the bedroom, he stopped and allowed the Major to catch up and open it. He stepped through and walked to the middle of the room as the Major closed the door and locked it behind them. 

 

He briefly debated how to proceed. Did he dare broach the subject and try to talk about what they were feeling? Or should he proceed as if he knew the Major wanted what was about to happen?

 

Well, the Major wasn't one to speak his feelings. He might try to cover up the awkwardness with anger. And he had been eager enough last night. Dorian knew that explaining himself was far harder than acting to the Major, and the worst thing that could happen was a gentle push away, and that would be enough to know that his advances weren't really wanted.

 

The night before had been sitting between the two all day, but the silence on the matter was comfortable rather than awkward. They hadn't been avoiding the subject. At least to Dorian, there just hadn't been any need to discuss it. 

 

He turned and locked eyes with the Major. He took in his short black hair, his muscled body that his clothing couldn't hide, his attitude, everything about the man. His heart twisted in his chest. He had never loved anyone as completely as Klaus, and he paused again in his decision as he thought about how much it would hurt if his advances were rejected.

 

Before he could speak, the Major took three strides across the room, covering the distance between them, and took the Earl up in his arms.

 

The Earl was shocked at first, then he closed his eyes and they shared a deep, passionate kiss. Had anyone ever kissed as well as the Major? He couldn't remember, couldn't think of anyone else ever in his life as his lips pressed against the other man's. Their skin rubbed together and he could feel the beginnings of the thick cover of facial hair scraping against the skin around his mouth, like a kind of rough caress. The mouths opened easily and simultaneously, and the Earl slipped his tongue into the Major's warm, inviting mouth, once again taking in the taste of cigarettes and the flavor that was simply Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach. There was nothing else. He pulled the Major's shirt out of his belt and put his hands underneath, greedily seeking the warmth of the Major's muscled back, and lost himself completely to the moment.

 

*****

 

The thief had stood there, looking so lost. The Major had been sure he would make the first move since he'd, thankfully, let himself upstairs, avoiding the awkward invitation that Klaus had been working through his mind since the airport.

 

During the day, the Major had resolved to let the thief do as he would tonight. After all, what difference did it make? He had already made up his mind on the situation, so why not let... well, let the full act take place? He would have to leave himself in the thief's hands, so to speak, because he wasn't sure how such things worked. 

 

He was pleased that the events of the previous night had not been awkward, either during or after they had taken place. He had worried most about that changing their relationship, about the thief getting silly or possessive somehow, or wanting to talk about it constantly. But their relationship hadn't changed. They hadn't avoided the subject, it just hadn't come up. The Major had been thinking about it all day, but when he looked over at the thief, he only felt that tightness in his chest that he identified with the Earl. It was an anxious love, not because he feared losing the thief, but because he... well, he wanted to be with the thief so desperately. Wanted to talk to him. Hold him. Be with him always. He wasn't sure how this would work on missions, or how he was going to get through work the next day. Not only did he not want to go, he didn't want to leave the thief after they'd just started doing all this.

 

But he knew the thief wouldn't disappear if he left him for the day. He knew that, in the Earl of Gloria, his feelings were reciprocated. It was something that was both embarrassing and a relief.

 

The lost look the thief gave him from across the room had nearly broken his heart, so he had simply offered comfort. He concentrated on the feeling of the tongue in his mouth, experimentally followed it back into the thief's own mouth, probing, taking it back out, slowly sucking on and biting the thief's lips, which produced low moans. As the kiss went on, he noticed suddenly that the thief had his hands under his shirt, on his back.

 

Before anything else happened, he wanted to make sure they were clean. He slid his hands under the thief's rear and picked him up while his tongue was in the thief's mouth, which caused a low groan from the man. The thief wrapped his legs around the Major's waist and gripped his shoulders from behind with his long, slender hands.

 

He shifted one arm under the thief's rear and walked across the room, easily carrying the man and opening the bathroom door and turning the lights on.

 

The thief broke contact between their lips briefly. "Please, leave the lights out."

 

The Major obeyed, flipping the switch and closing the door, leaving the pair in darkness. He knew the bathroom well enough in the dark, so he supposed that was all right. He set the thief down on the sink and began unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, kissing his chest as he followed the buttons down.

 

The Earl moaned low while he did this, running his hand over and over the Major's short hair. He was happy to see that the caresses were appreciated. He was gentle this time, just to see if the man responded any differently. When he had the shirt off, he pulled his waist to get him to move forward off the sink, then slowly undid his belt buckle and zipper, pulling the pants down past the bulging erection that was contained within the underwear. He knelt and slowly pulled the pants down, following them down the Earl's leg with gentle kisses inside his thigh and calves. The Earl moaned a bit louder and moved his hands from the Major's head to his shoulders, where he gripped them tightly. The Major reached up and grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down, freeing the erection, while he looked up at where the Earl's face would be.

 

"Please." The Earl moaned, putting his hand on the back of the Major's head.

 

The Major's throat tightened as he straightened, his face in front of the Earl's penis. He thought about it, but realized he would have to wash it before he could bear putting it in his mouth.

 

"Not just yet." The Major answered in German, rising from his knees with one hand on the Earl's waist to meet his lips again. Experimentally, he put his hand on the Earl's penis. Touching it wouldn't be so bad.

 

He was fascinated by the smooth, warm skin on the Earl's shaft as he stroked it with his thumb and fingers. The head was wet already, and the Major cupped it in his palm as he wrapped his hand fully around the penis and began stroking back and forth, letting the wetness spread over his hand and onto the length of the full head and shaft. He went slowly, doing the motion a few times with some low moans from the Earl, before pulling his hand away.

 

The Earl quickly fumbled with the buttons on the Major's shirt, and the Major winced as he heard a few separate and hit the floor in the Earl's haste. He yanked the shirt down over his shoulders and off his arms quickly, and had his belt undone and his pants and underwear around his ankles in one motion. He straightened back up and began frantically kissing the Major, the Major returning the kiss with the same gentle patience he had decided on earlier.

 

This only made the Earl moan louder. He drew their bodies together, and he could feel the Earl's erection throbbing against him. He was relieved that his body was responding in kind, and that he had an erection of his own, something that he had been worried about over the years. He pulled the Earl in tighter, his feelings overcoming him, and grabbed him under the rear again and lifted him up as he stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water.

 

The two were quickly enveloped in steam. The Earl, with surprising force, pinned him against the wall and was kissing him like a madman. His tongue worked furiously in his mouth, and the Major sucked against it to keep him from withdrawing it too fast. The Earl broke the kiss and began trailing kisses down his neck and all over his body, and he could feel him kneeling down in front of him.

 

The Major, somewhat alarmed, pulled him up and began kissing the place just below his ear. The thief began to moan. Gently, while taking his earlobe between his teeth, he grabbed a bar of soap with one hand and massaged it briefly before setting it down and moving his hand back to the Earl's erection, separating their bodies slightly to give himself room to work.

 

He massaged the head between his fingers briefly, then, while kissing him gently on the neck, he began slowly stroking up and down the shaft again, carefully avoiding the head. The Earl moaned, so the Major increased his rhythm and tightened his grip, then stopped to allow his fingers time to go down and explore his genitals below, careful to let the soap get on his balls as he massaged them. The Earl moaned loudly and slumped against the Major, draping both arms around his shoulders. The Major put his chin on the Earl's shoulder and wrapped his other arm around his back before moving his other hand back to the shaft of his penis. He alternated between massaging the head momentarily, stroking the shaft, and massaging the balls gently, then moving backwards, while increasing the rhythm. The Earl began to moan, and when he moved back to the balls, the Earl's hand reached down to stop him. The Major returned to the shaft and began a very quick rhythm, which finished with the Earl's warm ejaculate spreading over the skin of the Major's abdomen. 

 

The Major pulled away and stepped into the warm stream of water from the shower, rinsing his hand and waist off. The Earl gripped him from behind and began nuzzling his neck and whispering into his ear.

 

"Thank you, Klaus. It was wonderful. You don't know how much that meant to me."

 

The Major said nothing as he grabbed the bar of soap and began lathering his own genitals. The Earl stopped him and began stroking his penis from behind. The Major noted he was using much the same technique he himself had, just variations of grip and finger positions. The Major noted them to try for later as he allowed the Earl to wrap one arm around his waist while he quickened the rhythm with the other. The sensations weren't unpleasant, and he could feel a tightening in his stomach whenever the Earl massaged his balls. He carefully analyzed every sensation to try and decide what he would use on the Earl next.

 

He lost himself in thought. After several minutes, the Earl's hand dropped away. "My, you've got a bit more stamina than I thought." He whispered in his ear. "Perhaps you really were the King of the Hamburg nights in your youth?"

 

The Major blushed and pulled the Earl around to stand with his back in the shower stream, so that they were face-to-face. "Idiot." He whispered in German. "I've never even kissed anyone but you." He finished by closing his eyes and giving the Earl a deep, gentle kiss. The Earl pushed away after a moment.

 

"Thank you for saying that."

 

He pulled the Major in tighter and began another passionate kiss. He pushed his hips against the Major and pushed him against the cool tile on the back of the shower and began a slow rhythm with his hips. The Major matched it and the two of them paused in their kissing to focus on this. 

 

The Major was surprised by how natural the rhythm felt, even with a man. His heart beat quicker at the intimate movement, and he squeezed the Earl's waist tight in his arms as the rhythm quickened. After several minutes, he felt something tighten in his stomach, and he moaned aloud as his thoughts locked and a shock went through his body from his knees to his eyes. He spent himself into the dark shower, then gasped as he put one hand against the tile to steady himself as he thought his legs would give out below him. The Earl leaned forward to bite his earlobe and support him as he trembled, and continued a moment longer, the warmth from his body spreading across the Major's abdomen.

 

The Major pulled the Earl in close and squeezed him as hard as he could, delivering the hardest, most passionate kiss he could give the man.The Earl pulled away, gasping.

 

"Klaus, the heat from the shower is making me light-headed. Can we move into the bedroom?" The Earl whispered in his ear.

 

The Major responded by breaking his grip and soaping himself to get rid of the body fluid that now covered his midsection, then rinsed and turned the water off, putting his arm around the Earl's waist to guide him out of the shower and across the room, into the master bed. The two hadn't dried off, so they soaked the blankets as they climbed underneath.

 

It was a king-sized bed, which had always annoyed the Major, but he found that it might leave several possibilities open to him now.

 

He pulled the thief close to him and began sucking on his earlobe again, simply holding him close and whispering endearments into his ear in German, embarrassing things that he couldn't believe were leaving his mouth, but he was afraid of the Earl leaving if he didn't make them known.

 

The two lay next to each other in an embrace, not moving, for several minutes. It felt like an eternity to the Major. He thought the thief had fallen asleep. Then the other man stirred, trailing light kisses from the Major's lips to his ear, down his neck and torso, pausing to massage his nipples gently with his lips, then moving down to his penis.

 

"May I, please?"

 

The Major stroked the man's head with one hand and pushed gently at the base of his neck. The Earl pulled the Major's knees up and bent down between his legs to work at the Major's semi-erect penis.

 

It felt... good. The warmth inside the Earl's mouth, combined with the sensation of the tongue stroking up and down the length, got the erection to its fullest in no time. The Major sat back and stared at the ceiling, concentrating on the physical sensations. He once again lost himself in thoughts of the thief for several minutes.

 

He was startled, then, when the Earl stopped and sat up. "Do you like what I'm doing, Klaus?" The thief whispered in the dark.

 

"Do not ask silly questions! Of course I do."

 

"It's just that... it takes you so long to come. Normally someone without experience is very quick, but you don't really seem to be responding. Are you close?"

 

The Major sat up, unsure as to how to respond. He didn't think he was close, since he didn't feel the tightness below his stomach like he did before. "No, but you can stop. We will try other things." He murmured quietly in German, then descended on the thief once again with kisses while the two of them sat up. He kissed the thief lightly on the mouth, feeling his own slippery fluids on his lips. He pulled away, unable to stop the repulsion racing through his mind, as he kissed along the line of the thief's jaw and down his neck.

 

He managed to maneuver the thief around so that he was lying down with Klaus on top. He once again thanked the king-size bed as he massaged the thief's nipples as the man moaned aloud. It occurred to him that he had not been making such noises himself. He didn't feel the need to. Maybe the thief was close to finishing, then?

 

He slowly kissed his way down to the Earl's throbbing erection. He put his face close, seeing the fluids weeping from the tip in the light from the window. He could smell a slight saltiness to the skin. The Earl gently put a hand around the base of his head and urged him forward, and the Major took the erection in his mouth.

 

His skin crawled as he tasted the saltiness. He moved his mouth up and down, unwilling to take it in as the thief had taken his. He moved his mouth off and licked up and down the length in the way he remembered the thief doing, paying special attention to the head as he teased it with his tongue. He massaged his balls with his hand, pleased with the guttural moans from the Earl. He periodically wiped the fluid from his mouth by kissing and rubbing the inside of the man's thighs. Try as he might, he could not stop the thoughts running through his mind. He was disgusted. He couldn't help but think repeatedly about how the Earl urinated from his penis.

 

Ashamed, he licked down the length and moved his hand up to the shaft, prepared to finish with his hands. Thankfully, as soon as his thumb touched the split at the tip of the head, the Earl finished, the fluids moving hot against the Major's thumb and down the length of his penis. The Major moved his face away and pulled the Earl up towards the head of the bed. He held him still against him for a moment, letting the thoughts run through his mind.

 

Then, unable to stop himself, he stood up and walked back to the bathroom, running the water in the sink to wipe his face off and wash his hands. He returned to the bed wordlessly and put his arms back around the Earl. The Earl had tried nuzzling him again, but the Major just held him tight, whispering apologies and endearments into his ear again. The Earl held still, then curled up against the Major's side and lay with his arm against his chest.

 

The Major sighed. His skin was touching the Earl's bare skin, and the heat between their bodies was comfortable. He was worried that he had offended the Earl with the sudden stop to their evening activities, but then again, it was late, and he had to go to that annoying ceremony. Just the thought agitated him enough that he wanted to reach for the cigarettes on his nightstand, but refrained, unwilling to disturb the other man. Certainly the fact he was still so close meant that he understood? Had he known why the Major had to stop? What he was doing in the bathroom? 

 

His thoughts finally slowed and stopped. He fell asleep with the Earl in his arms, content enough in the knowledge that nothing would change that night.

 

*****

The room full of 24 agents (with Agent E arrived from Russian and briefed on the current situation just two days ago) froze as they heard the footsteps echoing through the halls of NATO. They hadn't heard the steps in two months, but there wasn't any mistake. They held their collective breath as they waited for the door to crash open.

 

Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach appeared in the doorway in full dress uniform, smoking his characteristic cigarette. Aside from a faint scar next to his right eye, he looked the same as he had when the unit had convened 20 years ago. Several of the agents marveled silently at how age and injury never touched the man, who was now 50 years old. Not a single sign of wrinkles touched his face, there was no white or thinning to his shoulder-length black hair, and he had miraculously not developed a cough from his chain smoking habit. Perhaps living up to his impossible standards had their benefit. His green eyes darted around the room to each of the Agents, settling on G briefly, then he stomped his way over to his office door.

 

He paused in front of it and stared hard at the pictures still hung on the door, from the mission in England. The blood simultaneously drained from every agent's face in the room.

 

"Agent A!" he barked. "What are these pictures doing here!"

 

"Sir!" Agent A stood shakily to his feet. "Y-you... hung them yourself several months ago! None of us touched them!"

 

The Major turned to face Agent A. His eyes narrowed as he continued to yell at the top of his voice. "You bloody idiots stared at these pictures the entire time I was gone?! What is wrong with you!"

 

"Sir! I-I... I can take them down right now!"

 

The Major stared at Agent A a bit longer, taking a slow drag on his cigarette. "Leave them!" He went into his office and slammed the door.

 

He reopened it a few seconds later. The slumped-over Agent A snapped back to attention.

 

"Men!" The Major bellowed. 24 men snapped to attention all over the room. Every single one was in a gray dress uniform with a black beret for the ceremony later in the day. Agent A was a Lieutenant, most of the rest were ranked Warrant Officers. Agent G was a corporal. 

 

He took the cigarette out of his mouth. Various agents had always marveled over the fact he could bellow commands while still smoking a cigarette. The Major looked out over the crowd with narrow eyes.

 

"I am to receive a promotion today. I will recommend each and every one of you for the same. You are good men, and have never very seriously failed me on a mission." He took a short puff on his cigarette. "We have worked together for years. I could not ask for a better group. I know I am difficult to work for, but I am proud of you for obeying my orders all these years. It is why we have had more successful missions than any of the other intelligence units."

 

The Major was silent for a moment. Most men had expressions of barely-contained shock on their faces.

 

"I... deeply regret the loss of Agents B and C. It could have happened to any one of us over the years, but it never did, and we may have stopped watching for it. Those terrorists were some of the most cold-blooded opponents we've had in a long time, and worked a rather vicious trick on NATO itself."

 

He threw his cigarette on the ground, stamped it out, then saluted the men. "I look forward to many more years and successful missions with you. Agents B and C will not be replaced." He took his hand down. "The ceremony is at 11:00. You are dismissed until that time."

 

He turned on his heel and went back in his office, not slamming the door for the first time in recent memory. Most of the Agents looked from one to another with undisguised shock and wariness on their faces. The Major never complimented them. Perhaps the incident had shook him more than it seemed. Agent G merely looked confused.

 

"Agent G! In my office!" The Major yelled from behind the door.

 

The rest of the agents jumped. G looked around them room, shrugged his shoulders, then went into the office.

 

The Major was behind his large desk, shifting leisurely through the mounds of paperwork with a cigarette once again hanging from his lips. He looked up as soon as G shut the door.

 

"Agent G. When was the last time you wore your uniform to work?"

 

Agent G shrugged. "It's been awhile." He paused, then switched languages. >"I don't think you've ever seen me in my uniform, Earl."<

 

A broad grin spread across the Major's face, looking eerily out of place. He stubbed his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. >"No, I don't believe I have. You look absolutely stunning in a uniform, G."<

 

G blushed. >"Yes, but I never really feel myself in men's clothes."<

 

The Earl leaned forward. >"I happen to have a weakness for men in uniform."<

 

G blushed harder. >"I don't think that's any secret, Earl. I'm surprised you didn't say anything to Z when you came in."<

 

>"Oh, it was hard. I promised not to do anything that would give myself away, on pain of death. I think he really would kill me this time."< The Earl grimaced, once again looking both eerie and hilarious since he bore such a striking resemblance to the Major.

 

>"How did you talk him into letting you do this?"<

 

>"Easily. I was quite persistent, and the Major hates these ceremonies anyway. He was injured rather badly, you know, and still isn't quite himself. I think he was worried the NATO brass would see his weakness and not give him any more missions. He still acts himself, and you would never guess, but I think he'll feel more comfortable if he came back and just avoided this ceremony."<

 

>"Well, that's true, you know. There was a rumor going around that he'd gone blind on one side. I think the only reason he's getting such a huge promotion is that they aren't really planning on sending him out on missions anymore."< G looked thoughtful, then smiled. >"If he shows up looking and acting himself, though, there isn't really any reason to stop giving him missions, especially since the last one was, for all intents and purposes, very successful, even as an enemy set-up."<

 

The Earl breathed a sigh of relief. >"I think he'll be happy to hear that. In his way."<

 

>"Still, it's not at all like the Major to give you security clearance into NATO. I think Lawrence got seriously reprimanded when he let you in that time before. I don't even think you could charm me into letting you in here. And he gave you all his own codes!"<

 

The Earl smiled. >"He knows I won't steal anything inside NATO. And, as I said, if I botch this, I think he really will kill me. With his bare hands. And then kill himself."< The Earl frowned and then let his eyes stray to the door. >"They are all listening at the door, aren't they?"<

 

>"Yes, of course. We always like it when one of us gets singled out for punishment, it takes the heat off the group."<

 

>"None of them can understand what we say, can they?"<

 

G laughed. >"No. He tested all of them when we got back from that mission in England. I shook him pretty badly."<

 

The Earl bit his tongue to keep from laughing out loud and breaking character. >"Well. Will any of the others suspect that I'm not really the Major?"<

 

G thought about it a moment before answering. >"No. I think I'm the only one that would notice. I'd be able to tell the difference between you and the Major no matter how you were disguised."<

 

The Earl smiled and leaned back into his chair. >"G, you are marvelous. I would hire you for my team if you didn't work at NATO, you know. The Major thinks pretty highly of you as well. He and I had a bet. He bet I couldn't fool you, I thought I could. He wins, I suppose."<

 

G blushed again, thrilled to be so well-thought-of by the Major. >"I wasn't sure until you gave the speech. I knew the real Major would never say anything like that."<

 

The Earl raised his eyebrows, once again looking comical on the Major's face. >"Oh, but that was the Major's speech. He wanted me to give it. Said he would have a hard time with it himself, and as long as I was coming, he wanted me to pass that along. Wrote it all down for me. It made me smile that he couldn't say it out loud. You know how he is. He complains a lot, but he can't do everything by himself, and he trusts you all with his life."<

 

Agent G nodded, amazed. >"They aren't words I would expect to hear coming out of his mouth, but all the same, I suppose you are right."< G paused, then commented. >"They will have a recorder out before too long, trying to get everything on tape and to the cipher department. They won't trust my word since the conversation has gone on so long. I'd better leave."<

 

>"As you say then, G."< The Earl inclined his head at his desk in acknowledgement. >"It is always a pleasure talking to you."<

 

G bowed to excuse himself, and turned to leave. With his hand on the door, he turned and looked over his shoulder.

 

>"I should ask, how are things between you two, then? I've missed you on those missions, you know, and I suspected the two of you had some sort of arrangement worked out."<

 

The Earl smiled, and bit his tongue to keep from laughing. >"He really will kill me if I say anything about that, even to you."<

 

Agent G grinned broadly once again. >"All right, then."< He went through the door and closed it.

 

The Earl heard a murmur of conversation on the other side, and something to the effect of Agent G taking the tape they had just started. Then everything quieted into a susurrus of whispers, and Dorian closed his eyes and breathed in the smells of the office.

 

He had nearly lost face as soon as he had seen those pictures on the office door. Despite any malicious intent the Major might have pretended when he hung them, he knew they were still there because the Major genuinely liked them. He had forgotten that the Major had mentioned he'd hung them there, and it had been like an arrow through the heart when he'd seen them. The Earl teared up a bit, allowing himself to get a bit sentimental. He swiveled around to face the wall as he collected himself, out of fear of having someone walk in on him.

 

He turned back towards the desk. He sighed and wished there was something he could do about the paperwork, but he promised not to touch anything. As much as the Major hated doing it, it was really all Greek to Dorian, as much as he would have liked to make the mess disappear for his beloved.

 

Curious, and not able to help himself, he began rummaging through the Major's desk. He found more file folders, and several pocket dictionaries in a number of languages. He found an old ledger that seemed to have expense figures going back a number of years, and he found an entire drawer crammed full of packages of cigarettes. The Earl stifled a laugh.

 

In the back of the bottom drawer, he found a dagger, a small revolver, and something in a box. He cracked open the box, and his heart nearly broke.

 

It was a lighter that Dorian had given him aboard the Trans-European "Hallelujah" Express, on their third or fourth encounter and their first mission together. Dorian had said something silly when he handed it to him. It was silver and had the Major insignia engraved on it. He had it custom made as a Christmas present, but more as a joke, really. He hadn't really fancied the man until after that mission. He had still never been as frightened in his life as when the Major had pointed his gun at him when he was fleeing the police through the forest afterwards, in Rome. He... he hadn't been sure that the Major didn't really see him as a dangerous villain before then. When he pulled his shot, the Earl knew he could get away with everything short of murder. He had fallen hard at the beginning of the mission, but that was what had given him the hope to continue. He'd taken several punches from the Major over the years, but he knew the Major would never seriously turn him over or do him harm.

 

He gripped the lighter as he let the tears fall down his face. What a silly, sentimental thing to keep! And it wasn't fair! He had played at throwing it off the train when he had received it. The Earl hadn't thought of it in years. He also couldn't remember the first gift the Major had given him. Some lovestruck fool he was, being outdone by the stoic, angry, pompous Major.

 

He carefully wiped his fingerprints from it and put it back in the plain wooden box at the back of the drawer, just as he had found it. He would never mention it. He wiped his face and collected himself before sitting back up in his chair and pretending to rifle through the same stack of papers.

 

It was harder at playing the Major than he thought.

 

*****

 

The Earl hummed happily to himself as he pulled into the Major's driveway and parked the black Mercedes he was driving next to an identical model. The Earl guessed that the Major had flown back to Hamburg and driven the car back while he had been at the ceremony today. He swung out of the car and continued with the Major's military cadence to his steps until he passed through the doors of the castle and was greeted by the butler.

 

"Earl Gloria! The master is waiting for you in the smoking room." The butler said, seemingly delighted to see him. He turned and began walking down the hall.

 

"Isn't every room the smoking room in this castle?" The Earl quipped halfheartedly, still taking in the art on the walls. The Major still had a criminally fine collection for a man who would simply just cover them in cigarette smoke.

 

The Butler wisely avoided the question. "You look so much like the master dressed like that! It was unlike him to not go into work today, but sending you instead was a good idea. He hates those ceremonies. Did anyone suspect that you weren't really him?"

 

The Earl smiled. "Only you, good sir."

 

The butler stopped at a doorway and put his hand on the knob, but the Earl stopped him and put a finger to his lips and winked. He then pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, then burst through the door.

 

"You lazy sod! What have you been up to all day?! Do you not have anything better to do than lay around the house and act useless? This is what's wrong with the world today, it's lazy degenerates like you!" The Earl stormed across the room to finish his tirade, capped off with a string of German curses, directly in front of the Major.

 

The Major watched silently with an identical cigarette in his mouth. When the Earl was finished, he stood, glared for a moment, and exhaled a cloud of smoke wordlessly into the man's face.

 

"Did anyone know?"

 

The Earl scowled. "Spoilsport!"

 

"I am not in the mood for your games right now, thief." The Major drawled. "You've had your fun for the day, now tell me how it went."

 

"Smashing. G was the only one that noticed." The Earl said, removing his beret and placing it atop the Major's head.

 

The Major smirked triumphantly. "I told you he would know. You owe me now. What gave you away?"

 

"Your bloody speech! G said he knew it was me when I gave that speech. Said nothing like that would ever leave your mouth. And good luck prying that money out of James." The Earl took his turn smirking, undoing the buttons on the jacket of the uniform.

 

The Major frowned. "He's right. That's why you had to go instead. It needed to be said."

 

The Earl removed the jacket and walked around behind the Major, sliding it on over his arms and shoulders, then walked around to the front to button it up. The Earl was surprised that the man was tolerating it. He appeared to be wearing the appropriate slacks and shoes to match, which was no end of impressive.

 

"It was a fine speech, Major, and I'm sure your men appreciated it, after the shock wore off." He buttoned the last button. "Well, you're a Major-General now, I suppose. That doesn't roll off the tongue quite as well, though." The Earl frowned and stood back, admiring the Major-General in his dress uniform.

 

Major-General Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach walked over to a mirror, inspecting his new insignia. He walked back over to the Earl, removed his beret, and snatched the wig that the Earl was still wearing and put it on his head, replacing the beret and walking back over to the mirror.

 

>"Just call me by my first name. That will be fine."<

 

The Earl walked over to the mirror and put his hands on the man's shoulders. >"If you like. You have to stop using my title then, too. And Eroica. And thief. You don't use my title properly anyway, it should always be 'Earl Gloria.'"<

 

The Major was avoiding looking at the Earl in the mirror. >"Dorian is such a foppish name."<

 

>"Ah, but it suits me perfectly, don't you think?"<

 

>"Yes."< Klaus spun around to embrace Dorian, giving him a long, slow kiss. He pulled away after a minute.

 

>"You taste like cigarettes, you know."< He said, frowning.

 

Dorian laughed. >"You always taste like cigarettes! I'll take up smoking again if I ever have to give up kissing you."<

 

He pulled Klaus in for another kiss, a longer one this time. Klaus looked into his eyes afterwards, and stepped back.

 

>"Take those ridiculous color contacts out. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, so meet me back in the dining room. Is there anything else I should know about today? I won't come back to any surprises tomorrow?"<

 

The Earl thought a moment as he walked over to the far door. >"No. They took a portrait of you with all your men in uniform. It should be a nice one. I know it won't be of you, but you'll probably like it anyway. Bring a copy home, I'd like to see it."<

 

The Major lit a cigarette as he went out the opposite door towards the dining room. >"Whatever."<

 

*****

 

As the two of them sat eating their meal in silence, Dorian let his thoughts mull over the night before. There was something nagging at the back of his mind. He decided to push his luck and try to have a conversation about sex with Klaus. He started carefully in Russian.

 

"Klaus, darling, when did you know you were gay?" He began, figuring the direct approach was the easiest.

 

The Major looked up from across the table, swallowing his food and glaring at him. "Not until I had sex with you!" He spat in Russian, hastily going back to his food.

 

The Earl's eyes widened. "So, before last night, you never found men attractive?"

 

"No."

 

"So it had always been women before me, then?"

 

"Women? What do you mean? I already told you I hadn't... I hadn't even kissed anyone but you. Are you trying to provoke me?" The Major began dangerously.

 

"No! No, I don't mean it like that. I mean... when you... you know, had erotic thoughts. When someone caught your eye. Were they women before?"

 

"I do not have such thoughts, and that is not a reason people catch my eye."

 

"Oh, come now, Klaus. Everyone has those thoughts. Who was it that you had your first dreams about when you were a boy?"

 

"Dreams?" Klaus looked across the table, puzzled.

 

Now the Earl was becoming out of sorts. "You're putting me on. I'm only asking a simple question."

 

Klaus looked thoughtful for a moment, then blushed deeply, an effect the Earl found charming.  "You mean... dreams where I have sex with someone?"

 

"Yes." Why was this so difficult?

 

"I've only had one. When I was in high school. I dated a girl for years. It was about her."

 

One. Right. "So you were attracted to her, then?"

 

"No. She was not a very attractive girl." Klaus looked like he was having difficulty. "I... you know, I wouldn't  ever... I loved her, at the time. But that dream upset me, because I was so disgusted by the sex."

 

Dorian stared blankly, then continued quickly when it looked like Klaus was about to lose himself. "No, no, I understand. I can imagine you being very sweet to the girl, at a young age, you know. First love and all that. I can see how a dream like that would upset you." An awkward silence filled in after he finished the sentence. "What I was getting at, mostly, was just that... you know, who did you fancy before?"

 

"Just her."

 

"But you said she wasn't very attractive, and she was only a high school sweetheart. That was over thirty years ago!"

 

Klaus shrugged. "Just her."

 

"Lord, you must have really loved her to carry a torch all this time. What happened?"

 

Klaus frowned. "She did not like me as much as I liked her. We saw each other for six years, then she asked me to stop calling her when we went to college." He shrugged. "I was upset, but I had stopped thinking about it after a couple years. I hadn't thought about her in over 20 years, until my father died."

 

Dorian's eyebrows rose. "When your father died? Were the two of them close?"

 

"No. I thought that I was lucky that I wasn't attached to anyone after he died, and then I thought of her, who I was attached to years ago." Klaus was staring resolutely at the table during this conversation. Dorian could tell it was making him uncomfortable, but he wouldn't be this forthcoming unless he thought it was something Dorian should know.

 

"I'm sorry I don't have the same type of story, darling." Dorian began lightly, not sure if Klaus was looking for an exchange of information on lovers. "I've had a number of men since I was young. Some I was more serious about than others, most of them were pretty things without a thought in their head. Not something that really keeps me around, which tends to break their hearts. They were all good boys, but..." Here he shrugged. "I have always let passion and fancy rule me, I suppose. I haven't touched another man in twelve years, though, not since I fell in love with you. Drove me mad, not having you and wanting you so badly." He gave Klaus a wolfish grin.

 

Klaus lit a cigarette on the other side of the table, clearly uncomfortable. "Yes. I tried to find someone else. After... after Helene. When I was young, before I went to NATO. At the usual places, like bars and gatherings my father had." He took a thoughtful drag and exhaled. "I liked Helene because we liked the same things. The other women..." he shrugged. "They made it obvious that they only found me good-looking. It annoyed me, since it is not something I care about."

 

"But... certainly you were tempted by some of them? I can only imagine that at least a few were good-looking."

 

"I just told you, it is not something I care about."

 

"Well, I suppose that's because you are attracted to men."

 

"No. Men are worse. There is only you."

 

Dorian was touched, but would not say so out loud. Klaus took another drag on his cigarette and continued.

 

"I am surprised to hear that you have not had other men since you met me. With the way you act, I thought you were comfortable with many men. As you said you were earlier."

 

Dorian sighed. "Well, yes, but that's just my nature. As you know."

 

"Yes."

 

"And I flirted a lot with you because I liked you. I'm not like that with everyone, you know."

 

"I know. I didn't realize until much later. It was hard to realize when you kept teasing me with Agent G and Z."

 

"Well, those are good boys, and you're fun to tease. And let's not forget you and poor Agent A, going on about his wife as you do."

 

Klaus smirked. "That's different."

 

"It's no different! You're horrible to A."

 

Klaus frowned. "Yes, yes, it's no different. But Agent A ought to know I'm not serious anymore.  They have three children and age has not been kind to her. But she's still a good wife. I would stop if it wasn't still a funny joke after all these years."

 

"See?"

 

Klaus sighed and said nothing, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, not willing to concede the point.

 

"Still. I am flattered that you would stop your other pursuits for me. Even when I tried to force you away for so long." He paused, then continued quickly. "Why?"

 

Dorian turned to look out the window. "Why did you finally say yes?"

 

Both were silent.

 

Just then, the cook came in to clear the dishes. Both men awkwardly watched as he cleaned the table. 

 

He turned to the Major and asked, in Russian, "Would you like any dessert for your guest tonight?" He smiled and looked over at Dorian.

 

The Major slammed his fists on the table, knocked his chair over as he stood up, and stalked out of the room, swearing loudly in German.

 

*****

Dorian was determined to get a reaction out of Iron Klaus tonight. The only thing that he'd gotten any response out of last night was the move in the shower, which wasn't very fun once you moved on to other things. Perhaps it had been the hip movement which had turned Klaus on. With that in mind, when they began their now-nightly experimentation with each other, Dorian resolved to be as rough with him as he was on the first night, and try something a little more pleasurable.

 

They were in bed together, and Dorian had already begged Klaus for release once already. The rough foreplay was something the Major was very good at, and in addition to the biting, having the rough stubble from his unshaved face grate against his skin was pure heaven. The other men he'd been with in the past had been far younger, so they'd had less facial hair by default, but they'd also been... well, much like himself, more effeminate, so they hadn't had much to begin with. Dorian actually only began looking rough after two or three days.

 

He'd never had a lover as muscular and powerful as Klaus. Even just the hugging, which the two began playing out as a wrestling match, trying to hold the other in place as they moved through a series of rapid, energetic positions on the bed, was amazing, and far more acrobatic than he'd ever had. But though he seemed to like it, Klaus was not responding to the play the same way Dorian was. He had an erection, but it wasn't particularly hard. Dorian wanted to go to the next step. It was a little early, but he suspected Klaus might respond better to it than anything else.

 

He bit Klaus's ear as he bent over and began pushing Klaus into the mattress as hard as he could. He whispered, "I want to try something, darling. Is that okay? You can stop me if you aren't comfortable."

 

Klaus responded by yielding to the push onto the bed, but grabbed Dorian's wrist and pulled him down tightly on top of him. "Please. Anything." He whispered into his ear, far more tenderly than his actions let on.

 

A shudder of pleasure went through the Earl, but he shook himself free of the grip and groped around on the nightstand for what he had put there earlier. The hand cream. He rubbed some on his fingers, then pulled Klaus into an embrace on their sides. He sat up, straddled the man's legs, then worked his finger in between the muscular cleave of his buttocks.

 

Klaus tensed up. Dorian winced, sure the sensation was unpleasant at first. He bent closer to his ear. "I have to do this slowly.  In stages. You have to let me know if it hurts. Promise me."

 

Klaus said nothing, but relaxed. Dorian began massaging Klaus's balls with the other hand, working his way up to the beginnings of a hand job as he inserted a second finger. This time, Klaus didn't tense up. He let out a small moan as Dorian increased the speed and intensity of his hand on the genitals and inserted a third finger, working that hand faster. After a few more moments, feeling that the Major was still relaxed, he pulled his hand out. To his surprise, the Major put a hand out to stop him, looking at him from the head of the bed silently. Dorian silently guided him into position.

 

"It will hurt at first, love. I'm sorry. I think you will like it, though. Do not tense up. I'll go slowly."

 

And slowly, gently, he guided himself in. Klaus moaned and tensed slightly anyway, but quickly relaxed. Dorian pulled Klaus up on his knees to get him into a more comfortable upright position, and began his rhythm slowly, guiding himself further and further in. He could feel the man shudder and moan as the new sensations racked his body. Dorian smiled. He was happy to finally be sharing pleasure with his one true love.

 

Dorian laid his cheek against the man's muscular back as he ever so slightly quickened the rhythm. Klaus began matching, then moving faster and faster, to Dorian's surprise, dominating the pace. Dorian reached around and gently reassured himself with the throbbing warmth that Klaus was enjoying himself. They went faster and faster. Dorian was shocked when Klaus did not climax after several minutes. He was getting close himself, and as time wore on and the two were rutting like wild animals, Dorian found he could no longer stop the sensation and moaned loudly as he released himself inside Klaus. He gripped him tightly around the waist and spasmed as he spent himself.

 

Much to his surprise, the other man seemed to tense up and finish at the exact same moment. He put his hand over his mouth as he stifled a loud moan, his every muscle tensing up, his back arching, his fingers digging into the mattress.

 

Klaus slowly leaned forward until he was face down in the pillow, gasping and moaning slowly. Dorian allowed himself to lay on top of him, gently shifting so that he removed himself from inside the man.

 

Well, never let it be said that he was Iron Klaus for nothing. His first time, and he had nearly outlasted Dorian! The nerve.

 

Dorian felt a hand close gently around his upper arm, pulling him off and in front of Klaus, where he was quickly enveloped in a warm, sweaty, strong embrace. Klaus buried his face in his neck and was whispering quietly in German. Dorian put his hand to his face and stroked his finger along the edge of his short, dark hair.

 

"Sorry, love, my mastery of the language doesn't extend to bedroom talk, it seems. English, perhaps?"

 

He was rewarded with a sharp, painful pressure on his genitals as Klaus brought his thigh up higher from its position where Dorian had straddled it. Dorian gasped sharply, but Klaus had stopped short of hurting him. He smiled as the familiar string of curses issued forth in German.

 

"As you like, then, darling."

 

*****

 

The next year, on May 15th at around 02:00, Dorian found himself sneaking through the grounds of Eberbach castle to let himself in through a first-story window.

 

He knew that Klaus would be furious with him. He had been away on a mission for nearly three weeks, during which time Dorian had returned to England, as he frequently did when the Major was away. While there, an exhibition containing the most divine Nataraja statue caught his eye in the paper, and, well, he had gone off to collect it. It had been, of course, right at the end of the three weeks, and his trip had taken another two weeks due to complications. To torment Klaus further, he had stayed with his eldest sister in England, knowing that he was likely to come asking at the castle for him. The staff would simply tell him he was out collecting, since Klaus had made it more than clear that he had no interest in Dorian's work.

 

He wasn't allowed to hang any art in the castle in Bonn, unfortunately, but his one indulgence had been hanging "Mars Chastising Cupid" in the master bedroom, after he complained of not being able to see it. He had briefly thought of returning with the Nataraja, which had been the most exquisite bronze statue, and seeing if he could pass it off as a kind of fancy coat rack, but he suspected Klaus wouldn't fall for it. And if he did, he would hang his coat on it. He might do that even if he knew Dorian was lying, just to irritate him. Damn that German.

 

He had returned to Bonn with something more suitable, something that had taken him considerably longer to acquire than the Nataraja. As he silently padded through the main hallway, he withdrew the item from his bag and made his way up the main staircase. Being careful not to make a noise, and long ago having oiled the hinges for just such excursions, he silently admitted himself through the door into the Major's suite of rooms. 

 

The lights immediately blazed on. Klaus stood by the light switch across the sitting room, fully dressed in his normal brown slacks and button-down collared shirt with a patterned red tie.His hair had grown back and hung at its usual length, and shown black in the light. He had abandoned the vanity of the color contact after it became clear that his record at NATO would keep missions coming his way, and he found that being a Major-General gave him quite a bit more say in the matter, unexpected leverage that the management had not anticipated, but should have. He was smoking a cigarette, and his mismatched eyes stared straight down the barrel of a loaded United Defense M42 submachine gun. How the thief still moved so quickly in the dark was completely beyond him.

 

He let his eyes play over Dorian. His curls had grown back, for the most part, though they still only reached just below his shoulders and not down his back as they had before. His blue eyes stared intently from below his curled bangs, a look of uncharacteristic sternness adorning his face. He was wearing a tight and rather revealing catsuit with a bag strapped over his shoulder.

 

Major-General Klaus Hinz von dem Eberbach exhaled a cloud of smoke and addressed the thief. >"There are only about 2,100 of those accounted for. Whoever you stole it from is going to notice."<

 

>"Not this one. I had to go through my contacts and talk incessantly to collectors and listen to their tall tales. I found a good number of abandoned weapons storehouses. They were full of things I didn't recognize. I was only looking for this. I found one in Crete, in an old underground bunker that I had to dig to find the door for. I knew you wouldn't approve if I actually stole something, so I had to find it on my own."<

 

The Major-General's eyes moved from the thief's face to the gun, sizing it up approvingly while he puffed on his cigarette.

 

>"I had to ask Agent G about the bullets, since I didn't trust any of the ones I had found in the bunker. He said it took something-such NATO bullets, which I thought you'd like, and he said he'd have to have them specially made to be able to feed through it, so that part's from your team."<

 

The Major-General remained silent, still staring down the barrel of the gun.

 

Dorian lowered it and spun it so that he was handing it butt-ended towards him. >"Happy 50th birthday, Major-General Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach."<

 

He took it, with some eagerness, Dorian noticed, and held it up as he sighted it against the wall. He hefted it and checked the bullets, chamber, and belt. He then looked up at the thief.

 

>"I was expecting you back tonight."<

 

>"Obviously."<

 

>"I had expected you back three weeks ago."<

 

Dorian smiled playfully. >"Well, you know I don't sit around on my hands and wait for you while you're gone."<

 

>"You could have finished your business while I was away."<

 

>"But I didn't."<

 

>"I bribed your miser. He said you finished stealing your trinket two weeks ago. You were just tormenting me."<

 

>"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say."<

 

Klaus spun away from the thief as he walked over to the window with his gun and pitched his cigarette butt out, staring pointedly away from the thief.

 

>"It was too long."<

 

Dorian walked to a few steps behind him. >"I missed you, Klaus."<

 

>"I missed you too."< There was a silence. The Major-General continued, his back still to the Earl.

 

>"The missions are hard. I am eager to return home afterwards."<

 

>"It hadn't been a problem for you until last year."<

 

>"Now it is."<

 

>"But aren't you happier to see me now than you would have been?"<

 

>"No! There is no happier when it comes to you. It is always all I can feel when I see you after I've been away. When you aren't here, and for so long... it is hard."<

 

He heard the Major-General's voice break. Ever so slightly. He closed the distance between them and put his arm around his shoulders and looked out the window, careful not to look him in the face.

 

>"I'm sorry, then. You know I get carried away sometimes. I thought it would be a jolly surprise to come back with that on your birthday. I knew I wouldn't surprise you by showing up, but it's the thought that counts, right? You like the gun, I take it?"<

 

The Major was silent for a brief time, then spoke, his voice much quieter. >"Yes. I've wanted one, but it's a frivolous waste of money, I could never bring myself to pay for it. It is not what I want tonight, though."<

 

He pulled the Earl in and gave him a deep, passionate, rough kiss. The Earl moaned aloud, betraying himself a bit. He missed these kisses, too. But he pulled away and put his hand over the Major's mouth.

 

>"Now. I know you don't like these as much as I do. I don't even know why you go through the motions. I can tell none of it means anything to you, you know. None of the sex. You never respond except when I'm penetrating you. I don't even think you really like that for the sex. You can't fool me when it comes to that."<

 

The Major pulled his hand away and held it. >"You like it. Isn't that enough?"<

 

>"Not if I feel like you're going to be sick when I ask for your mouth."<

 

The Major looked sad briefly. >"That is the one thing I cannot bring myself to do."<

 

>"It doesn't mean as much to me if you don't like it. I can even tell by your kisses that they don't mean as much to you."<

 

>"We can stop. It's all the same to me."<

 

Dorian's heart fell briefly. He was hoping for a denial from the Major, but he had suspected it from the very first.

 

>"I know it is, darling. It's not fair, either. It's like finally getting an ice cream cone and dropping it on the ground to spoil it."<

 

The Major's mouth quirked. >"I am like dirty ice cream, then?"<

 

>"Something like that."<

 

The two still embraced quietly in the lit room in the middle of the night. Suddenly, the Major gripped the Earl around the bottom and hoisted him in the air, throwing him over his shoulder.

 

Dorian was momentarily speechless as he tried to get his bearings and figure out what was going on. While he had a nice view of the Major's well-sculpted backside (not to be used for other than its intended purpose), he couldn't see or tell what direction they were going. Eventually, he saw they had passed the bed and were heading into the bathroom.

 

>"What are you doing?"<

 

>"If I am dirty, I will simply wash myself. And then I will see to it that you are very happy, thief."<

 

>"No! You really don't have to! It... it doesn't mean anything if the other person isn't enjoying it."<

 

>"If I say I am enjoying it, than that is enough. I enjoy it because you do. I will make sure you enjoy it quite a bit tonight, because I am now in a good mood."<

 

Dorian smiled as he was gently lifted upright and set on the edge of the sink as the Major started the shower. He turned and unzipped the front of the Earl's catsuit in one quick motion. The Earl's heart tightened in his chest as he threw his arms around the Major's neck and wound his fingers through his long hair, staring into his mismatched eyes.

 

"I love you Klaus."

 

"Ich liebe dich, Dorian."

 

*****

*****

 

Fifteen years later, the Major-General was reluctantly pulling a box from his bottom desk drawer. He had no personal effects except for his cigarettes and what was in the bottom drawer. He pulled it open and retrieved his pistol, his dagger, and the box from the back. He pulled out the lighter and turned it over in his hands, then pulled a pack of cigarettes from the many cartons in the box he had brought, opening it and withdrawing one to light. He was surprised the fluid still worked, and he took a drag. One last cigarette in his office, then.

 

Agent G came in scowling. It was his office now, and he had made it more than clear over the years that he hadn't liked the Major's smoking habit. The Major smiled as he exhaled a cloud of smoke and put his feet up on his desk.

 

"Agent G! Came to see me off, then?"

 

"It's Colonel Schneiderhan now."

 

"I don't recall the last time a Colonel outranked me."

 

"Sir." G added begrudgingly.

 

Klaus smiled again. "I've gathered my things and was just about to go." He stood up reluctantly with the box under his arm, sliding the lighter into the pocket of his dress uniform. He hadn't liked the attitude G had taken when he had received his promotion and Iron Klaus had received his release. He just wasn't scared of him anymore, and that was a real shame. 

 

He hadn't liked retiring, but he had to admit, even though he still showed no signs of slowing down, it was probably best he retire from espionage with a clean record. He liked the idea of being a sort of living legend.

 

Agent A had joined him at the door. He put his hand out to shake the Major's free hand. "It's been an honor serving you all these years, sir."

 

"Likewise. You are a good man, Agent A."

 

"Oh, just get on with it!" Came Agent G's cranky call from inside the office.

 

The Major smiled. "As you can see, it's the position that brings out the attitude. Agent G is already succumbing to the temper being the leader of this branch of intelligence requires."

 

Agent A smiled wryly. "He's just cranky because he can't wear women's clothing and be a Spymaster."

 

"That's true."

 

"Will you bloody shut up!"

 

"You're just not doing it right, Agent G." Klaus began innocently. He bent down to set his box of cigarettes on the floor, then took a deep breath.

 

"MEN! AT ATTENTION!"

 

Suddenly, as if from nowhere, twenty-four men fell into rank in front of him. All were in their dress uniforms and berets, including Agent G. There had been a ceremony and another photo earlier. Thinking of that, Klaus turned around to his office door.

 

He slowly pried the framed pictures down. There was the photo of him dressed in his uniform with the Earl in a tuxedo and full regalia. There was the candid photo of their first kiss. There was the photo, taken 40 years ago, of the Major and his new unit of intelligence agents, baby-faced and ready to take on the red threat. Then there was the photo from fifteen years ago when he had received his promotion, which was really his men posing with Dorian. He gathered them up and threw them on top of the box, where he had already been given some sort of certificate, a box for the medal they had given him, and a framed photo of all of his agents looking like old men, save for the handful that had retired and been replaced.

 

He turned and looked out over the men one last time. "I've given a speech like this before." He paused. "I haven't, actually, disregard the speech you heard before my promotion." He snapped his heels together and put his hands behind his back, at parade rest.

 

"We have been together forty years, most of us. A few had to leave us a bit early, but all the same, we've tolerated each other for the better part of our lives. I'm sorry that has to end today, but I'm leaving you in the capable hands of Agent G, who, although he dresses like a woman, is, for whatever reason, the most competent agent I have ever seen." Klaus cracked a smile as he looked out over the group, most of them sweating, not sure how to take the joke.

 

"Every single one of you is, of course, competent. I've trusted all of you with my life more times than I will ever be able to count. You have never let me down when it mattered, and I stand here before you today as proof, and as a man who has taken more ill-advised risks and lived than should be possible. It was necessary to be as hard on you as I was on myself, since I knew I would never fail you, and I knew you would never fail me that way. I know you have forgiven me for a lot of temper. Especially you, Agent A." He nodded in acknowledgement at the stunned man. "But none of you ever quit, which is a feat that baffled every single one of the personnel directors that passed through NATO. We have been awarded time and time again, and have always got our man. There will never be another team like us. But continue with your success, and treat Agent G as you have always treated me, with respect to his face and fear and office bets behind his back. Do not let him die, no matter how many bad decisions he makes. You all will continue on, and I wish you..." The Major paused. He had been speaking German, but for the last, he switched to English.

 

"Good Luck."

 

He paused and smiled to himself. He saluted.

 

"Dismissed."

 

The room was silent. The Major looked at each man briefly one last time, then picked up his box and walked across the room to the door of intelligence. As an afterthought, he began picking at the aged tape that held the Alaska travel poster in place on this side of the door.  Agent A walked up behind him.

 

"That was... er, wonderful, Major-General. Thank you."

 

Klaus smiled. "My pleasure, Agent A."

 

Agent A was breaking out in a sweat. Klaus frowned. He actually was in a good mood and was trying to be nice, but he knew such things had the opposite effect on A. He tried another tactic.

 

"I'm sorry I won't be able to greet your wife anymore, Agent A. I will miss her too, you know."

 

Agent A's mouth dropped open as Klaus caught the eye of Agent D, approaching behind him.

 

"A, your wife is a harpy and has been for years. I don't know why that shocks you anymore."

 

Agent A pointed. "Because it's him! He only ever says things about my wife! Nobody else! It's creepy!"

 

Agent D shrugged. "That's true. And he could get your wife too, you know. You've turned into an old man, but the Major still looks younger than all of us. It's amazing the five packs a day never caught up to him."

 

"It's because he has that British queen at home with him. Neither of them have aged a day since they met. Don't look at that portrait of them in that box, it probably looks hideous with age and from all the horrible things I'm sure they get up to behind closed doors." Agent G sniffed as he walked up to the group.

 

Klaus thought a moment. "No, that portrait's in our bedroom. It got taken in Scotland that time I had to search his underwear. I look at it often to think about what I might look like now, if only I hadn't made that deal with the devil." Klaus finished his cigarette, and put the tip out between his fingers, throwing the butt into his box.

 

E cheered from somewhere in the room. "The office is now a no smoking zone!"

 

Klaus scowled momentarily over the desks, then smiled at G. "Cheer up, Colonel Schneiderhan. Age may have caught up with you, but I'm sure you know a trick or two with makeup to make it look like it hasn't."

 

G said nothing, not sure whether Klaus was being sincere or not. Then he squinted, and cried aloud while making a swipe at the Major's head.

 

Every agent was shocked when G grabbed the wig and blonde curls came tumbling out. A look of shock crossed Dorian's face, then he began a long string of English curses.

 

"He told me I could see you off if no one noticed! Agent G, how cruel."

 

G scowled. "That's what you get for that makeup comment."

 

Dorian stole the wig back from G and tried to tuck his hair back up in it.

 

"Bugger! Now I can't sneak back out!"

 

G watched, amused. "When did you make the switch? That was definitely the Major at the ceremony earlier.

 

"Afterwards." The Earl said crossly. "He said I could come to collect his things if I was good."

 

F stuttered from somewhere on the edges of the room. "You were. None of us could tell the difference."

 

"G could. That's why he's the spymaster now, I suppose." He gave up on the wig and began undoing the buttons on his jacket. "Hold on a moment, I'll go get Klaus."

 

He turned and left out the door of NATO Intelligence, wearing dark gray dress pants and a white shirt with a black tie.

 

The agents stared silently at one another. Agent G spoke up.

 

"Oh, come on! You all can't tell me you didn't know he does it all the time! Do you even have any idea how many times he's come into the office and fooled everyone? He's accepted missions, for crying out loud! From both chiefs! And neither of them noticed the difference!"

 

Agent N stared at him. "Like... how frequently are we talking here?"

 

Agent G breathed hard through his nose. "At least a week out of every month for the last ten years."

 

The room was silent again.

 

"And some missions, too."

 

"What?!"

 

"Not the big ones." G finished quickly.

 

The room sat in stunned silence as the door re-opened and the real Major-General walked in, buttoning his jacket with one hand, the Earl trailing behind him quietly pulling the contacts from his eyes.

 

"Now that this bloody degenerate has had his fun for the last time, we can go." He bent down to pick up the box from the floor. "Would you men join me for drinks?"

 

The room was silent for a moment, then broke out in cheers. The Major smiled.

 

"So, how many of you knew, then? The Earl of Gloria told me he tried to give as many hints as possible. That was not agreed on, but all the same, what did he say that tipped you off?" 

 

The room was silent. Dorian smiled and turned to him. "I know Agent G knew! I made a comment about covering up how old he is with makeup, and he got mad and realized it wasn't you. After a moment."

 

Klaus lit a cigarette, which caused a groan from Agent E. A glare from Klaus silenced him. He looked over the room. Looked every man in the eyes. The fear and smell of sweat was palpable.

 

"I said other things, too. They started joking with me. I talked about how G was the only competent one. Talked about how you had made more bad decisions and lived than should ever be possible, and I even went along with G's terrible joke about us looking so young because a portrait is taking abuse somewhere." Dorian turned and looked at G witheringly. "Like I haven't heard that one before. Oh! And after the speech, I said 'Good Luck!'"

 

Without another word, Klaus turned on his heel and walked out the door, slamming it hard enough to shatter the glass in the window frame.

 

The Earl stared after him briefly, then turned and smiled at the room and waved, following the Major out the door.

 

"Auf wiedersehen!"