Chapter One

"Maybe you can't, Major, but they won't give a whit about a civilian thief!" he heard Lord Gloria say as he was passed by a blur of red silk and golden curls.

He watched in stunned disbelief as Dorian raced ahead and tackled Prescovich before he could cross the Serbian border. The situation was all too unreal to him, and smacked of a similar mission many years ago where Dorian had engaged a foreign operative on a bridge over the Danube on Klaus' behalf, getting himself beaten to a pulp in the process.

The circumstances were no different then as they were now. Prescovich was the same height and build as Molozov had been, many times larger and stronger than the English lord, yet just as he had attacked Molozov, Dorian went after him with all the tenacity of a terrier attacking a Great Dane. And just as before with Molozov, Prescovich beat back the terrier with mighty blows, squashing Dorian into the ground and running for the border. Klaus thought he heard the agent laughing and he gritted his teeth in impotent rage.

For a moment, Dorian lay utterly still on the paved road, and a nameless fear crept up Klaus' spine. Then he saw the thief weakly try to rise and heard the pain-filled moan. Immediately, he was by Dorian's side, helping him to stand and supporting him. He spared a glance at the Earl's face: cracked lip, cut and bleeding, scrape on one cheek from the pavement- nothing serious. Most of Prescovich's heavy punches had fallen lower, on Dorian's chest and abdomen. The thin man must be one big bruise. He felt a shiver of sympathy and not a little gratitude for Dorian's efforts. He wondered if, as with Molozov, Dorian had been successful in spite of the beating he received, but there Dorian had given him the microfilm immediately. This time Dorian was making no such offering.

‘Maybe because he's too busy trying to stand,’ he scolded himself.

Dorian moaned, calling his attention back to the man next to him.

"Are you all right?" he asked solicitously.

"Yes," came the slow reply. "Remind me to stop doing this type of thing for you, Major. I'm getting too old for it."

Even though Klaus had been promoted to Colonel two years ago, the thief still called him Major.

"Don't say such things. You are not old," he snapped back. If Dorian was getting old, then so was he, and he didn't want to think about that.

Dorian's answer was a non-committal grunt followed by a hiss of pain.

"Here," he offered gently, "Lean on me. We'll be at the car soon."

"Thank you, Major," Dorian answered with a sigh, letting Klaus take more of his weight.

Klaus half expected the Earl to now make a pass, that was what he usually did when Klaus was within touching distance, but he did not. That had been the more recent pattern over the past eight years. While Dorian never missed a chance to profess his love, indeed he'd been saying it for the better part of three decades, his physical advances had been tapering off. Now his more overt overtures seemed to be for the benefit of others, usually to throw off suspicion or act as a distraction more than anything else, but when they were alone, Dorian was almost what could be considered to be chaste- for him.

He was silent as they got to the car. He released Dorian, leaning him against the side of the Benz so he could open the door. Then he offered a hand to the Earl to help him into the car. Dorian lowered himself into the seat with a groan, but as Klaus moved to step back, to go to the driver's side, the slender hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, just low enough to be hidden from the watching border guards by his body.

"Ero..."

Blue eyes met his with fierce intensity and he looked down at his hand. Dorian's fingers were positioned in the Victory sign. Almost disbelieving, he pulled his wrist from Dorian's grasp and swept his palm under the Earl's. With a satisfied little plunk, the microfilm dropped into his waiting hand. He spared a smile and swallowed a laugh as he clandestinely placed the precious film into his pocket and closed the passenger side door.

Hurrying to the driver's side, he leaped into the seat and started the car. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Prescovich realized that the film was missing, and he had to get the microfilm to NATO. If he drove fast, they could be in Munich by late evening. They could stay at the safe house he knew was there and leave for Bonn early in the morning.

The car hit a pothole as he spun the tires and the Earl let out a gasp.

"Lord Gloria?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"S'ok, Major, just... try not to hit every pothole along the way, please?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, Lord Gloria. I will try to be more careful."

"Thank you," the Earl answered with a sigh.

After a moment or two he offered, "I have some aspirin in the glove box. It'll help with the swelling."

He saw Dorian rummage in the box for the aforementioned bottle and tap four white pills into his palm. Keeping one eye on the road, he offered what was left of his coffee to the Earl. The Earl took the cup, popped the pills into his mouth and chased them with a gulp of cold coffee. He half expected Dorian to complain about the lack of cream and sugar, but the thief made no comment. He handed the cup back to Klaus, and Klaus finished it off then threw the empty cup into the back seat.

"Put your seat down," he said. "It will recline and you'll be more comfortable. You can rest until we get to Munich."

"We're going all the way to Munich?"

Klaus grimaced at the strained voice. "I'm sorry, but yes. Prescovich will discover that you stole the microfilm from him, and he will send agents after us. There is a safe house in Munich we can go to. We can sleep there, then we must leave for Bonn; I must deliver this microfilm to NATO as soon as possible."

"I understand. Yes, it would not be good if we were to be caught, would it."

"No. So I am sorry, but we must get to Munich. I will get us there as quickly as possible."

He saw the blond head nod as the passenger seat lowered and Dorian reclined. He stepped heavier on the gas and headed for the nearest main road, wincing in sympathy at every bump unavoided. Dorian bore any bumps in silence, except for the especially large ones, and even then he only whimpered. Klaus consoled himself with the knowledge that he would tend to Dorian's injuries with his own special sore-muscle salve and a massage once they were safely in Munich.

"Thank you," he said after a while.

"For what?" Dorian answered.

"For getting the microfilm."

"I am a professional," the Earl replied.

"Yes," he agreed, speeding up as they joined a highway. "Still, you saved a lot of lives today."

The Earl was silent for a moment, then spoke softly, "The only one I was interested in saving was yours."

He cast an uncomfortable glance at the thief, but said nothing.

"I know you don't love me, Klaus," Lord Gloria continued. "But I love you. I love you very much, and your continued health and existence is very important to me. You really frightened me this time, Klaus. I was so worried for you."

That shocked him and he looked full at the Earl. Blue eyes met his from under the cascade of curls.

"Why?"

"Because you were dealing with true killers this time," came the answer.

"What do you mean?"

"These people, Klaus... no matter how many lives that microfilm will save, thousands will still die. They're not killing for a reason anymore. They forgot a long time ago why they are fighting. Now they kill simply because it's what's done. It's a Blood Feud, Klaus. You should know about Blood Feuds."

He was surprised by the usually frivolous Earl's insight. Once again, Dorian had proven to him that the Earl was anything but stupid.

"Yes," he agreed tightly, gripping the wheel.

"At least when we were against the KGB, we knew what we were dealing with. Mischa and Polar Bear were Communists, yes, but they had honor. These people have no honor, Klaus; they're just men filled with hate. God only knows what they would have done to you if you were captured," Dorian added.

"Is that why you followed me? Because you were worried I'd be captured?" he demanded angrily.

"Yes."

"Do you have so little faith in my abilities? Do you think I am getting too old to be out in the field?!"

He saw Dorian hasten to reassure him. "No, Klaus, never that. You are the strongest, most capable man I know. I would never doubt your abilities. It's just that these men are so unpredictable and the danger was so great... and I could not bear it if anything happened to you." He said the last softly, with a hint of fear.

He growled but calmed down, concentrating on the road.

"You concern is... appreciated but unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a hostile situation," he replied. "You, however, are an untrained civilian. You should not be following me into danger."

"I got the microfilm for you, didn't I?"

He swallowed hard. It was the truth, but he did not have to like it "Yes."

"I've learned a lot from you, Major. I'm much better in 'hostile situations' than I used to be. Besides, everybody thinks I'm harmless."

The admission surprised him. "That is because you are such a frivolous fop."

The gleam in the blue eyes spoke of silent laughter. "Exactly."

"Go to sleep. We have a long drive to Munich and you are injured. You should rest," he ordered.

"Yes, Major," Dorian answered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

They did not speak again and he found himself speeding for the Hungarian border while Dorian slept uneasily beside him. He used the time to scrutinize and digest what the Earl had told him.

Twenty-five years had passed since he and Eroica had first crossed paths, and the Earl had proven to be one of the few people who had stayed with him. Many of his alphabet had gone on to better, less stressful jobs, except Z of course, who seemed almost as devoted to him as Dorian; and his chief had finally retired, but not before making sure Klaus would never be made section head or promoted above the rank of Colonel. So much had happened. The Cold War was over. The Berlin Wall was torn down. The Iron Curtain was lifted, but only caused old clan feuds to begin again. The Soviet Union as he knew it was no more.

One by one the things he accepted as truths crumbled around him. He was still single, with no wife and no heir, a fact that dismayed his butler to no end, especially after Klaus' father had died. He had tried for several years to set Klaus up with prospective spouse material, but all of his efforts had ended badly. Now, the butler was resigned to his master's perpetual bachelorhood, but he was sullen and their relationship was strained. Klaus knew the old man would die soon.

Slowly, most of the people he would consider his friends had retired and moved away. Even that irritating SIS Agent Lawrence had turned in his James Bond gadgets for a set of high-tech golf clubs and a sports car. Only Z remained, and Dorian. Always Dorian, who had the odd knack of showing up when he was least wanted but most needed. Dorian, who tackled a bear of a man almost half his age without a second thought because he had something Klaus needed to fulfill his mission. Such loyalty and tenacity was rare, and had earned Dorian the Major's grudging respect. And Dorian loved him. Dorian still loved him, after all these years.

‘Just my fucking luck that the only person who loves me is a fucking, foppish queer!’

He glanced over at the sleeping Earl. The headlights from oncoming cars briefly lit up the golden curls that haloed Dorian's face. Even at close to fifty, Dorian's mane of hair was still thick and lustrous. He frowned at the bruise that had formed around the scrape on the Earl's cheek, and the bloodied cut lip. But it could have been worse.

‘He could have been killed. Brainless idiot.’

The thought of Dorian hurt or dying caused his heart to spasm suddenly, and he felt a moment of utter dread before he pushed it away. Somehow, the thought of Dorian not being in his life seemed almost too much to bear. It would be like the earth he stood upon suddenly falling out from beneath him. No matter what else happened to him in his life, he knew he could always count on Lord Gloria to be there, and to be his usual intolerable self. If Dorian was one day not there... He pushed the thought away with a violence that surprised him. No, no matter what, Dorian would always be there. Like death and taxes, Dorian was an unavoidable truth. His train of thought disturbed him greatly so he returned his attention to the road and concentrated on driving.

Close to 21:00, after driving like a madman and thankful that Dorian slept through most of it, Klaus guided the car into the parking lot of the safe house in Munich after making a brief stop to get the keys. Tomorrow he'd take them both to Bonn, but right now he was tired, hungry and Dorian was hurt. And he still had to salve Dorian's injuries and give him that massage. He woke Dorian as he parked the car. The Earl moved stiffly, probably due to the fact that sleeping in a car did nothing to help his bruises. He grabbed his suitcase from the car's trunk and ushered the thief up to the apartment. Dorian must have had luggage somewhere but it was left behind in whatever place he had secured in Hungary. The Earl had never told him how he had managed to follow him.

The accommodations were sparse but comfortable. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a large bed and a well-appointed bathroom. Klaus immediately decided to let Dorian have the bed, but after a shower and food. He tossed his suitcase on the bedside table while Dorian watched and pulled out a pair of his sweat pants.

"Here," he said, handing the Earl the soft clothing. "Go take a shower. Make the water as hot as you can stand and let it run over your bruises. Then put these on and come out. I have something that will help with the pain."

Dorian stood in the bedroom for a moment, owlishly blinking at the pants in his hands until Klaus snapped at him.

"What are you waiting for? Go shower! I will call for food to be delivered while you wash."

His angry bark jolted Dorian out of his stupor and he watched the blond walk slowly to the bathroom. The Earl gave him a strange look then went in and closed the door behind him. He waited until he heard the sound of the water turning on before looking through the phone directory to find a delivery place that was still open.

Once food was ordered, he dug into his suitcase again for the jar of powder he knew was there. When mixed with water, the powder became a thick salve that was excellent for easing bruised flesh. He made the mixture himself from a recipe his father had given him when he was at boarding school and had pulled one too many muscles playing soccer. He retrieved a bowl from the safe house kitchen and mixed some of the powder with water he heated in the microwave. Then he waited, and waited, and waited. Dinner arrived. Klaus set the table and doled out portions of food onto two plates.

Dorian was still in the shower. Finally, on the verge of losing his temper, he pounded on the bathroom door.

"Eroica! Are you trying to drown yourself? Dinner is here. Come out now!"

"Sorry," came the soft reply. "I'll be out in a minute."

He stood at the door until he heard the water turn off and the sounds of the Earl drying himself. The thief emerged in a billow of steam a few moments later, towel wrapped around his shoulders and Klaus' sweatpants on. They were a size too big and he'd drawn the drawstring tight to keep them on. Klaus winced when he saw the large, discolored patches on Dorian's chest and ribs.

"C'mon. Dinner is getting cold," he said, leading the way to the table.

"Chinese Take-Away?" the Earl asked, seeing the meal Klaus had ordered.

"It was the only thing open. Now sit."

Dorian did as ordered and lowered himself into a chair. Klaus walked behind him, noting that the thief had even more bruises on his back. He picked up the bowl of salve and a rubber band from the counter, and handed the band to the Earl.

"Put up your hair."

Dorian looked at him. "Why?"

"Because I don't think you want to get this smeared in it."

The thief looked at the bowl he was holding. "What is it?"

"A salve for your bruises."

The Earl pulled the bowl close to his face and sniffed. "Hmmm. Mustard... and cayenne... and hmmm. I make something similar."

"It is good for sore muscles."

Dorian nodded and swept his curls up into a knot on the top of his head, groaning as his muscles protested the action.

"Good, now eat while I do this."

"Yes, Major."

Using his hands, Klaus spread the salve over Dorian's bruised flesh. Then he soaked kitchen towels in hot water and draped the damp towels over the salved areas.

"The heat will make the salve penetrate the deep muscle layers," he explained at Dorian's questioning look.

The Earl nodded and Klaus finished, complete with a quick inspection for broken bones.

"I do not think you have any cracked ribs," he announced, sitting down to his own meal.

"No. I've had cracked ribs before. My ribs hurt, but they don't hurt like that," Dorian answered.

"I think you will be fine, just sore for a few days."

Dorian nodded again, agreeing with him.

They finished the meal in silence, then Klaus cleared the plates and used the wet towels to wipe the salve off Dorian's skin. Dorian stood and walked to the closet, looking in it.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Looking for sheets to make up the couch," Dorian replied.

"You'll do no such thing. You will be sleeping on the bed. I will take the couch. Besides, I am not finished with you yet."

Dorian looked surprised. "You're not?"

"No. Now go into the bedroom and lie down. I'll be in momentarily."

The Earl gave him another odd look, then obeyed, disappearing into the bedroom without comment. Less than a minute later, he joined Dorian in the bedroom. The thief had done as ordered and was lying on his stomach on the bed. He reached into his suitcase for the massage oil.

"What are you going to do?" Dorian's voice asked him, just slightly tinged with uncertainty.

"I am going to give you a massage," he answered matter-of-factly.

"A massage?"

"Yes. This massage oil will also help the pain," he answered, sitting down on the bed.

He pulled off the bottle cap and heard Dorian sniff.

"Mmm. Eucalyptus."

"And peppermint," he added, pouring a small amount of oil into his hands to warm it.

"Do you make it yourself, Major?"

"No. I buy it from a shop in Bonn," he said, beginning to massage Dorian's shoulders.

"Mmm, you must give me the name of the shop sometime."

"I will try to remember to give you the address," he stated.

"Thank you, Major."

It was silent again as Dorian relaxed and Klaus massaged him. In truth he did not know quite what to say to the Earl should the man ask him what his motivations were, and he was very glad that Dorian was being uncharacteristically quiet. He tried not to think as he ran his hands over the sensitive flesh. Dorian's skin was soft and pale, only making the bruises all the more ugly.

"Thank you for helping me like this, Major," Dorian whispered quietly.

"You risked your life to get the microfilm. This is the least I can do for you," he replied stiffly.

"Still... I'm very grateful, Major."

"It's not a problem."

They fell quiet, and Klaus kept up the massage, running his hands smoothly over Dorian's skin. Dorian seemed to relax completely under the attention, almost falling asleep, and Klaus found himself oddly warmed by the amount of trust the Earl was placing in him. He smiled, glad that his hands were causing someone pleasure for once. The silence was comfortable. Dorian wasn't making a pass, wasn't chattering on about foppish bullshit. He was just lying there quietly, letting Klaus massage him, letting him explore the smooth planes of his back, neck and shoulders.

It was pleasant, comforting almost. Klaus found that he was enjoying it. Dorian's skin was soft and warm, and smelled faintly of soap. His damp curls were spread out on the mattress, drying and they smelled of shampoo. Klaus let himself be sucked in by the rhythm of his hands timed with Dorian's breathing.

After long moments, he gave the thief a gentle pat.

"Mm?"

"Turn over and I'll do your ribs," he said amicably.

There was a pause, then Dorian replied, "No there's no need to do that, Major. I'm feeling much better already and I'm so comfortable."

"It's no trouble."

"No really, it's fine."

"I said it's no trouble," he insisted, becoming irritated. Did Dorian not like his massage?

"Major..."

"Turn over," he ordered.

Dorian sighed. "You really don't want me to, Major."

"Why the Hell wouldn't I? Don't you like my massage?"

"Far from it," the Earl murmured slowly. "I like it very much."

"Then what is your problem, you stupid queer? Turn over."

Slowly, Dorian obeyed and Klaus soon understood the reason for the Earl's protests. The thief was highly aroused, his erection obviously tenting the crotch of the sweatpants. Dorian flushed and placed one hand to cover the offending bulge.

"I see," he said.

"I'm sorry, Major. I can't help myself," Dorian explained.

"You become aroused from massages?"

"No. Not usually. But... I love you, Major, and being touched by you makes me react. Especially when the touch is so wonderful, and you're being so gentle with me. I can't help it."

Dorian gave a small, sheepish smile. Klaus blinked at him.

"You react this way to... to my touch?"

Dorian looked away. "Not always. I've gotten better at controlling it over the years. Usually I can prevent my body from reacting, but tonight I'm tired and hurting and you're being so kind to me."

He was certain that Dorian expected him to be angry, and he did not know who was more surprised, Dorian or himself, when he realized that he was not. But the admission brought some of the Earl's recent actions into a whole new light.

"Is that why you stopped making passes at me?"

Dorian nodded. "Yes. I had to stop. It wasn't a game to me any more. It was different when I was... playing, but then... I just couldn't do it anymore."

Silence fell again and remained until Dorian shifted uncomfortably and moved to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"I... I should go," the Earl answered softly.

"Nein. You will stay here."

Dorian looked at him with such sadness in his eyes. "I really can't stay, Major."

Klaus glared at him, using his anger to hide the fear that if the Earl left now, he'd never see him again.

"There is no reason for you to leave. I am not... offended," he managed.

Dorian gave him a wary, sidelong glance, his curls falling haphazardly over one eye. Klaus lost his temper and grabbed the Earl by the arm, forcing him back down to the bed. Dorian gave a gasp of surprise and pain as his back hit the mattress and he was immediately contrite.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

Dorian did not answer. He merely stared at him in wide-eyed shock. He frowned. The thief was afraid of him right now and he did not like how that made him feel.

"There is no need to fear me. I will not hurt you," he assured evenly.

Dorian did not look convinced. Apparently the thief remembered all the times Klaus had hurt him. He sighed heavily, then looked at Dorian's naked chest, mottled with dark bruises, and an idea formed in his head. The rational part of him screamed in protest at his thoughts, but he was not interested in being rational. Right now one of the two people who had stayed with him through the years, whom he had come to depend upon and trust, was hurting and frightened of him. After the long day and the dangerous mission and the fact that Dorian had risked his life once again on his behalf, fear was the last thing he wanted to incite in the Earl. He reached out with one oiled hand and stroked the tender skin.

"Klaus..." Dorian gasped.

"Like this?" he questioned.

The Earl shook his head ever so slightly, but Klaus saw him dig his fingers into the sheets.

"Klaus, please... I have no defenses against you right now. You've stripped me of all my armor. I can't..."

"Shut up," he commanded, but without heat. "I told you, I am not going to hurt you."

Apparently the Earl thought it best to obey, and remained quiet as Klaus began to caress his ribs and shoulders. He could feel the tension in Dorian's body, sense the tremors that ran in ripples under his fingers as he massaged and stroked the Earl. Sparing a glance, he saw that the thief had squeezed his eyes shut, teeth biting his lip to keep from making noise. The picture shocked him, and at first he thought the Earl was shaking with terror, until his saw the tent in the crotch of the sweatpants and knew the Earl was trying to fight his arousal.

The knowledge astounded him. No one. Absolutely no one, had ever reacted to his touch the way Dorian was reacting now. Every brush of his fingers, no matter how light, caused the Earl's body to shudder. It was electric, thrilling in its novelty. No woman he had ever been with had ever responded so eagerly or profoundly to his caresses. The wooden touches he gave because he thought it was expected of him, never elicited even a fraction of the response that his tentative ones were now. It flabbergasted him and excited him without his really knowing why.

He stopped massaging and started running his fingers over the Earl's flesh, marveling at how it quivered, prickling out into gooseflesh as he touched it. He saw the nipples of the Earl's breasts become hard and flushed, but he avoided them, opting instead to touch just about everywhere else that was laid open to him until Dorian was trembling uncontrollably, tears leaking out from his tightly shut eyes, tiny whimpers escaping from his clenched teeth. The entire scene gave him a heady sense of power. He had complete control over the man who had tormented him for years, and it was wonderful.

"K... Klaus..." he heard Dorian choke. "Klaus... if you don't stop now, I'm going to soil your sweatpants."

But Klaus didn't want to stop. He was enjoying this feeling far too much. Even his body was reacting, and he looked down to see his own arousal pressing against the seam of his jeans. In response to Dorian's plea and warning, he pulled the drawstring of the sweatpants loose and lowered the material down, freeing the Earl's erection. The hard cock sprang out, wet with pre-ejaculate, and he heard the Earl's shocked cry.

"There," he said, gently. "Now you won't."

He looked at Dorian and saw his wide, amazed eyes, swimming with unshed tears.

"Klaus..."

"Don't talk," he answered, and resumed his caressing.

The scent of musk and arousal wafted up into his nostrils as the Earl dropped his head to the bed and squeezed his eyes shut once again. In moments, he had the Earl writhing, choking on his little cries of pleasure as he tried not to climax. But Klaus was not about to allow that to happen. No, this power was too sweet and too exhilarating, and the smell of Dorian's sex was feeding his own arousal. It had been years since he had spent the night with anyone but his own hand to keep him company.

Smiling evilly to himself, he allowed his hands to brush over the taut nipples, reveling in Dorian's cry and shudder. The Earl's erection bounced, straining, and his own throbbed in sympathy. He did it again, feeling Dorian's body jolt as if it had been shocked. He heard the Earl's nails scrape harder against the sheets.

"K..." Dorian tried.

Another sweep over the hard breasts.

"K... Kl..."

"Hm?" he questioned knowingly, rubbing his fingers around the nipples in teasing circles.

"Kl..."

He pinched the nipples mercilessly. Dorian's body jerked upwards, his head flying back, spine arching.

"Klaus!"

He pinched them again, and with a cry, Dorian came- explosively, splattering semen all over his stomach. Klaus could not describe the wicked sense of triumph he felt in that moment, seeing the Earl's face as he came, feeling the trembling body under his hands, smelling the strong scent of semen as it hit the air. He felt invincible, all powerful, and his own rock hardness ached in his groin.

Dorian was shuddering, gasping for breath as he released his grip on the Earl's breasts. He ran one finger through the pool of semen on Dorian's stomach, looking at it. He saw the Earl open his eyes, pupils still dilated, and smiled wryly.

"Just as I thought," he stated. "No stamina."