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.

*****