Klaus had taken a few guesses -- something weaponry, very advanced, very expensive. Beyond that would have required him to notify some government to be aware of the scientists...

But he didn't have to, and he preferred it that way.

"So, will we stay at your flat while we plan what to do next...?"

"That seems to be the thing to do. Much less likely to be spied upon there than any of yours, hm?" Dorian noted, tilting his head to the side.

"I doubt they'll bother any longer," Was his solemn reply as he looked up and down the street, absently straightening the lay of his jacket. The things they'd brought with them, that had been in their cabin, had actually reached the destination, and James had brought some of them with him so that Klaus and Dorian would have their clothes when they took the plane back. And Klaus had his gun again, hidden beneath his jacket.

"They *did* toss us off the boat, darling," Dorian pointed out to him. "I rather think they might bother after all."

Klaus grimaced, yet he stopped suddenly. "We need to go to the Bonn office -- *now*. I'd forgotten what we'd overheard..."

"All right." Easy acquiescence as so often came to him from Dorian, the car door reopened, the thief slipping back inside with ease even as Klaus himself did. "Let's go. We can make other plans when we get back."

"Sorry -- we probably should have done that on the way in..." But it'd slipped his mind, and that was the frightening part. Still, that twinge didn't stop him from bringing the car, his car, back to purring life, and pulling out onto the road. "Do you want to come in with me when I go in?"

"Of course!" Dorian flashed a smile, one that sent tingles directly down to Klaus's toes. "I want to see the expression on your Chief's face when he sees that you've returned!"

"If they'll let me in the building." There really was little doubt, though, that they'd be let in, given who they were. It was just a matter of how far they could get. He'd be giving the information to *someone*, though. It was too important and put too many lives at risk to let it go on.

THAT earned a laugh from the British man. "Hmm, Klaus, as if they could keep us out?"

"They probably wouldn't dare -- but remember what I was dismissed for. They might keep me out because of that." Not that it wasn't just the work of two psychologists bullshitting about personality flaws that he'd always had.

With a sniff, Dorian tossed golden curls back out of his face. "Let them try. They won't dare, or they'll never have another moment's peace from me!"

"Ah...? What would you do?" Klaus asked almost teasingly, as he turned a corner.

"Break in every night and rearrange the entirety of the section chief's office. And steal his chocolates," Dorian declared.

"Every night...? You'd lose a lot of sleep." A vague reminder, gentle and still vaguely smiled at Dorian as he neared the familiar parking garage that he'd been nowhere near in too long. Absently, he started to fumble his wallet out of his pocket with his maimed right hand.

"That would be all right," Dorian declared. "After all, when I got home, you'd hold me and I could nap for a while in your arms. Every day would still be magnificent!"

Well, then apparently Dorian was getting over his need to not be very far away from Klaus, and that was both a blessing and a curse for the German man -- because he was getting used to being essential in Dorian's life. One more adjustment to make.

"After all," Dorian continued a bit hesitantly. "You wouldn't want to come with me to do that... would you?"

"I don't think it's a feasible plan to take if..." Klaus trailed off as he finally pulled his ID free and pressed it to the window for the pass clerk to see -- though it wasn't needed, as he was easily recognizable to anyone who'd ever worked there while he'd served. "We do need to figure out what we're going to do."

"Take care of our business," he was reminded quietly. That meant going to East Germany, meant... Well. Dorian wasn't going to think about that, no, he wasn't. It had to be done, but he wasn't going to contemplate the matter at all!

"After that. We'll still be... I meant *after* that," Klaus repeated in some frustration as he rolled down the window when the pass-clerk *didn't* recognize him and wanted a closer look at his ID.

"After that will be after that," Dorian said lightly. "Then, they'll take us seriously, I think. More than seriously. After that, we wait and see."

Klaus didn't answer right away -- he exchanged a short, flat toned conversation with the pass-guard, explaining why he didn't *look* like his ID card and that, yes, he *was* Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach, and who the fuck else would be?

Once that argument had been won, Dorian sat back, shivering slightly in his seat. "I believe that once we've gotten past... THAT, our trip, things will settle into place. I don't know why I think so. I simply do."

"You tend to have that luck," Klaus agreed in a tone still sharp from his argument with the pass-guard -- who was probably going back to his post to quietly piss his pants in fear of that *voice* alone, let alone the mad glint that had flared in one green eye. He deftly maneuvered his car towards an unclaimed space towards the back. "I'll trust that feeling."

"How good of you," Dorian teased him, tossing a smile Klaus's way.

The soft rumble of the car stopped, and Klaus smiled as he pulled the key out and pocketed it. "Let's go?" Perhaps they *might* in passing see one of the Alphabet... though Klaus would consciously choose to not interfere with their duties.

Wordlessly, Dorian slipped out of the car, locking and shutting the door behind him before walking to the rear and waiting for Klaus. "So to whom will we be speaking?"

"The chief, first... and if he won't listen, then there are many outlets for this information to be put to use through," Klaus said blandly, as they both walked towards the doors.

"Ahhh." The British man gave a sage nod. "You're going to threaten him about goosing G while we're at it!"

"Damn right," Klaus almost let himself smile, darting forwards just a little when they reached the doors to open it for Dorian. That didn't bother Dorian

-- it was just the sort of thing that Klaus *would* do for him, and he actually rather liked it. He liked anything that Klaus did for him, so he smiled and walked in ahead of the other man, pausing momentarily to look back at him.

"I'm happy," he announced simply, shrugging as if to say that was all. It was certainly enough!

"I know." Klaus's own slight returning smile as he looked towards the secretary, who'd only caught *that* part of their exchange. "I want to speak with the Chief."

The woman seemed to swallow hard. "Well, he says he's not to be disturbed, but... since it's you..." She swallowed again. "I'll buzz you right through, Major!"

"Thank you," Klaus murmured, with a sharp nod before he started to move towards the doors, full well expecting Dorian to come with him and for the thief to *not* be questioned.

"Er....sir, is he..."

"Oh, it's not a problem!" Dorian assured her cheerfully. "I won't be a bit of trouble! Not even a whit! See you on the way down!"

Indeed, they were soon on familiar, missed, ground for Klaus -- stepping into the elevator, punching to be taken up to the third floor. No one else got in with them, for there was no one else to get in; somehow, they'd avoided any foot traffic, coming in the lull of the day by sheer accident. Glancing about, Dorian smiled slightly, eyes lighting up with humor. "Hmmmm...." Unable to resist, he leaned over once the doors were closed and pressed his lips to Klaus's!

In the NATO building, of all places. It was a testament to the turn around Klaus had made and his general not *caring* what the fuck NATO thought when he returned the kiss just a little and moved to stand closer with his familiar looming quality beside Dorian. Possessive without having to touch at all, though he wanted to. Just... a hand on Dorian's back? Yes, he could get away with that, and his men knew -- he didn't care if they were reminded of it. After all... they weren't his men anymore. /I need to stop thinking of them that way,/ he mused to himself as they stepped out of the elevator when it reached its destination. "I'll go in alone to talk to him, if you'd like."

"Oh, no," Dorian said, the sound of his voice almost a sigh, definitely pleased. "I'll go with you. I'd like to hear what gets said."

To back Klaus up, then -- the German man could appreciate that. "All right, then." And with the hand that did decide finally to settle on the small of Dorian's back, his marred right one hidden away in his pocket, Klaus strode down the hall to the office.

The Alphabets were all working away at their desks, phones ringing, papers shuffling, and none of that paused as they moved into the room except for A, who glanced up and smiled. "Hello, Major. Eroica. It's nice to see you!"

"And lovely to see you, as well, A! You seem to be keeping everyone quite busy," Dorian noted, peering about the room. "G's even back in his dresses! How lovely!"

"Dorian..." A low, warning rumble, though Klaus *knew* there was little he could do to thwart the disruption, living and breathing, that *was* Dorian. A living, breathing, lovely distraction... Klaus strained to push those thoughts aside for a more appropriate moment, nodding once to A, before carrying on towards the chief's office.

"We shall see you again, A!" Dorian promised cheerfully, lightly pushed forward again by that hand on his waist.

One knock, and he waited for the man to acknowledge; for the first and only time ever.

"Oh!" G cried, waving. "Hello, Major! Hello, Lord Gloria!"

Another nod he had to make, while waiting for the chief to reply; Klaus knocked again, brows levelling together unhappily as the door rattled under her weight of his hand.

"COME IN!" the man yelled, and when the door opened, his little fringe of hair nearly stood on end! "E-eberbach..."

"Yes.... Chief," Klaus said with obvious distaste as he let Dorian enter first, then closed the door behind them both as he stepped in. "I have information that needs to be known."

"And you've brought Eroica with you," the man said with a slightly sly smile that made Dorian shiver. "How nice. Do sit down."

/Ugh./

"I'm not here to pass pleasant bullshit with you," Klaus growled, carefully omitting any and all possible tones or terms of respect. "I'm here to share very important information that we learned purely by accident -- the Soviet infiltration of the American intelligence agencies go up much higher than was suspected."

The man eyed him suspiciously and sighed. "Trouble follows you everywhere you go, Eberbach!"

"Likely," Dorian murmured, "but there you have it. Don't you want to know?"

"It's your choice: I tell you or I take this information to SIS," Klaus said flatly.

With a sigh, the old man frowned at him. "Tell me," he demanded.

"The Soviets have Clark in their control," Klaus drawled.

"Clark who?" the Chief asked.

The edges of Klaus's lips quirked up for just a moment. "That would be the problem -- it could be Commander Clark, or some secretary named Clark -- either way, the information that could be lost to Soviet hands is... immense."

"That's not very *specific*," the old man grumbled. "Where'd you hear it?"

"On a cruise ship, a conversation between Mischa and Polar Bear before we were chucked overboard by them." Klaus didn't shift in the least -- simply looked at his ex-commanding officer and wondered if he'd be taken seriously.

Leaning back, the man scowled. "I'd heard you'd been picked up off of some deserted island," he murmured. "We'll look into it, then."

"You'd better -- the Americans we found in the northeast weren't *all* that there were in this ring, and the one captured had no idea how high it goes," Klaus said, already rising to his feet.

"There was also a man named Howell mentioned," Dorian noted. "Though perhaps they know of *him* by now, as he was the one sending the agent to meet Mischa."

"Do what you want with that information," Klaus uttered, making a small gesture to Dorian that they were going. "Good day to you."

/Just as brusque and bossy as ever!/ the Chief thought, already reaching for the DiGel in his drawer. "Hmph. Goodbye, Eberbach!"

"If I find out that you didn't do anything useful with what I learned, though, you'll regret it," Klaus murmured, putting his maimed right hand on the doorknob.

"Don't forget about G," Dorian prompted under his breath.

"And you're going to leave agent G alone, understood?" He turned again, to look fully at the Chief. "If you think you can pull shit just because I'm gone..."

"Now see here, Eberbach...!"

"See what, *sir*?" That tone was so disrespectful, so mocking of any power that the chief thought he wielded. "Bastards like you tarnish a good cause."

Dorian smiled slightly at the man, shrugged. "What can one do? After all, he's so unstable; isn't that what those psychiatrists said?" he asked innocently, fingers wrapping in a curl. "My. It would just be better not to set him off, don't you think?"

The sharp smile Klaus gave agreed FULLY with that, and he turned back to the door, opening it. "Let's go home, Dorian."

"Brrr..." the Chief declared once they were gone. Eberbach was so SCARY!!!

In the hall again, Dorian couldn't help the little snicker that escaped him, his eyes gleaming with humor. "Oh, that was magnificent!"

"You did that perfectly," Klaus complimented, as they started into the room that held the alphabet. Once more, he steeled himself to not say a thing to his men. THAT didn't mean that they weren't going to talk to *him*!

"Major, Major!" G cried, running up to smile brilliantly at him. "We heard you were back in Germany!"

"Yes!" S agreed, nodding at him firmly. "Will you be staying?"

"Will we see more of you?" M asked, peeking around a partition.

"It depends," Klaus said truthfully as he kept walking towards the door. "Go back to work, though! Don't waste time!"

"Yes, Major!" they all chorused cheerfully, making Dorian laugh again. He reached for Klaus's arm and waved at Z as they moved past.

"Happy to be back in Germany now?" he murmured with a smile as they slipped into the elevator.

"It's good to be back," Klaus murmured as he let his arm slide around Dorian's waist. Now that he'd gotten rid of the last lingering part of the 'mission', he could relax... and they could plot their revenge tactics.

"Let's go home," Dorian whispered, leaning up to nibble at his ear once the doors were closed. "Let's go home and lay together and..." Klaus could feel the smile against his throat. "I love you."

"I know." Klaus turned his head a little, just to press closer and murmur with a flush of protectiveness, "I love you, too. We'll go home."

"And then. Then we'll plan, afterwards," Dorian said quietly, smiling and remaining close to him.

"Mmm. Are your men still in residence there?"

A negative shake of that head. "Jamesie took them all to Greece to close things up again. He was utterly distraught at the waste of money, poor thing..."

"He can't blame us for getting tossed overboard," Klaus scowled. "Still... it might be best if we left before they came back."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, nodding. "It'd only worry them, otherwise."

"We'll just say we're going... who knows. We'll think of something." The elevator came to the lobby level, and Klaus didn't care what looks he and Dorian got, as close and intimate as they were. He was surprised to find that it gained them very few, only the occasional glance askance, and then they were back in the parking area and heading for the car.

"We'll tell them we're going on a driving tour of museums. It'd be likely, my showing you what I love," Dorian told him, pausing as they reached the car.

"First, though... we need to take a few days to prepare. Fake identifications... and I need to go get fitted for my... my eye." Hesitance there -- no matter how comfortable he was with Dorian's scars, he would probably never relax with what had been done to him.

Dorian nodded as Klaus unlocked the door. "Yes," he murmured, reaching up to caress one of the German's sharp cheekbones. "My beautiful Klaus..."

The compliment brought a smile not for the words but for what the feelings behind it were -- adoration, love, want, need. "Yours." He could agree with one part, though the other.. "So we'll rest, and I'll see if I can get floor plans to go with the address."

"Right." That was the agreement he expected, and always got. "If not, we'll scope it out beforehand." After all, he wasn't a thief for *nothing*...

"I want this to run perfectly," Klaus reiterated as he moved to his side of the car, the driver's side, and opened that, slipping in. "Na?"

"It will be," Dorian assured, buckling his seatbelt. "Not a flaw."

"I just... want to make sure." So that Dorian wasn't hurt again, so that he wasn't hurt again. "You'll see what you can do with your sources?"

That blond head nodded, eyes looking forward as they pulled out of the space and headed back out of the parking garage. "Yes," he murmured. "He'll never hurt anyone in this way again. *Ever*." /Never hurt *you* again.../

"And then NATO will take us seriously -- and if they don't, we'll find something to do. Someone will want to put us to use," the black-haired man drawled softly as he drove by the pass-office.

With a deep breath, Dorian nodded. "I just... don't want anyone else to be hurt, Klaus. I want to hurt him for hurting *you*. I've never..." He shuddered, trying to hide it. "I've never wanted to do violence to someone else before. Not really." Never anything worse than a slap. He'd always hated making anyone *bleed*...

"You don't have to, Dorian -- I've told you, you don't have to come if you don't want to. But I... I have to do this. I'm trained to do this sort of thing, and..." He *wanted* to, for the cold promise of revenge, of protecting Dorian and snubbing out the bastard who'd hurt them both. No higher reason than that.

"I *have* to go," Dorian replied grimly. "I *have* to do it. I *have* to be with you. It's just..." Just the way things *must* be!

"Both of us, a team," Klaus nodded. "You don't have to hurt him though -- I can handle all of that."

"Perhaps," Dorian said. "Perhaps. But..." But he didn't *want* Klaus to have to do it alone!

"Could you do it? Could you wield a knife or a gun to hurt him...?"

"I don't know, Klaus," he admitted. "I've never done so before, but... I want so badly for him to hurt, to hurt as much as he hurt *you*..."

"He hurt you worse than me -- I'm fine now, it was never..." Never as bad as what was done to Dorian. Dorian was always, always first in his mind, his priorities.

The thief shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. "I hated him so much for what he did to you. Still do. Hate that you saw all of that, hate that you had to watch it, hate that I stopped talking. I'm so angry, so bloody *furious* about it, Klaus..."

"But not at yourself. It... we've already decided it wasn't either of our faults. Neither of us were to blame for it, and we're here now, alive," Klaus said, almost reminding himself of it.

"No," Dorian agreed quietly. "I'm not angry at me anymore. I was never angry at you at all...."

"I wasn't angry at you, either," A twitch of a smile as Klaus guided the car through a turn. "I'm glad... that you wanted to see me when I left the hospital. Letting that... changed everything."

Turning his head, Dorian smiled back at him. "I've always wanted to see you. I don't think I could've lived without you. If you hadn't come..." He'd have done worse than just cut his *hair*!

"I... truthfully don't think that either of us could have.... lived well without each other," Klaus's mouth curved with a slight smile. "I don't know what I would be doing without you."

At that, Dorian laughed softly, shaking his head. "Hmm, I can't imagine it'd be half as pleasant." /I'd be crazy or dead. You, too, probably.../

"So... when we get home, do you want to rest first...?" He half hoped they would, just so he could... relax, in a familiar surrounding, large, comfortable bed, Dorian and all of his accoutrements.

The question was answered with a nod. "I want to lay down with you for a while, rest, maybe..." Maybe kiss, maybe touch, maybe just be.

"Maybe...?" Klaus, though, wanted to be sure.

"Maybe more," Dorian told him with a sly little smile.

"Maybe more..." Softly echoed, Klaus's general good mood letting him shift his bad hand from the steering wheel to Dorian's knee. "I'd like that. It's always good."

One of the thief's hands moved to lightly clasp against Klaus's, holding it with undeniable tenderness. "I knew it would be. Always. I trust you with all of me, my dearest Klaus. I always will."

"Yes -- I've trusted you for a long time, now... but now you know that I do," Klaus said, smiling a little to himself. "When I go to the hospital tomorrow to see about my eye, will you come?"

"Of course!" There seemed to have been no question in Dorian's mind that he *would* go. "I can't wait, darling. You look so mysterious with the patch, but I know you'll feel better when you can remove it..."

"Ja... it bothers me." And that slight worry that Dorian would be as disgusted by what lay beneath as *he* was... "Bothers me a lot, though... you say you don't care. I believe that."

"Klaus..." Dorian turned to look at him as Klaus drove along. "I would love you no matter *what*. Always. I'd wait forever for you if I had to, do anything to be by your side for eternity..."

"I know you would." Another turn was made, onto the street where Dorian had his apartment. "I still wonder what I've done to deserve that devotion, but I wouldn't give you and that up for anything in the world, Dorian. Not for fucking NATO, not for the two of us to be... whole again, nothing."

That drew a definite smile, brilliant, scintillating, and the British man slid his fingers into Klaus's. "What haven't you done?" he asked simply. "I love you. That's more than enough."

"It won't ever make sense to me." Dorian felt his finger squeezed. "But I don't need it to make sense anymore. I can function without it making sense."

"Good..." Dorian chuckled, tilting his head to the side. "After all; I've probably *never* made sense to you, have I? Don't answer that," he promptly teased, still laughing a little as Klaus pulled into the small parking area.

"Sometimes you do, more often you still don't," was the blunt but not hurtful statement, as Klaus parked the car, pocketed the keys, and then leaned over to kiss Dorian's lips ever so lightly. "Let's go inside."

"What a brilliant idea," Dorian sighed, leaning to steal Klaus's mouth in a kiss that was a bit deeper before moving to open the door and slip out of the car.

Klaus lingered a moment, watching Dorian get out, before he did, too, and then locked his Benz's doors. Just from the way Dorian moved, he was getting back his old, wonderful and infuriating sense of teasing... and Klaus had to truthfully say he'd missed that desperately. His Dorian was *his*, utterly, and was feeling good, they were both safe... "I wouldn't say that's a *brilliant* idea..."

Blue eyes looked with his, full of pleased humor. "Isn't it?" he nearly purred, moving close to him, taking his hand once again. "All things considered, I'd say it's just marvelous."

"Hmn," Klaus said, shaking his head just a little. "Tell me you have the key? I'm too tired to help you break into the apartment if you don't have it."

A quick delve into a pocket that surely shouldn't have allowed his hand in brought out a silvery house key that he flashed between index and middle fingers, waving it lightly at Klaus as they headed for the stairs, Dorian pausing to tap in the simple code that would undo the lock. "Not a problem," he assured with a wink.

"Ah, I forget that the thief has a high-tech security system to keep out thieves," Klaus said, shaking his head at the pure *irony* of that fact.

Dorian's brows raised as they moved up the stairs side by side, his mouth curving into a rueful smile. "Can you imagine the sheer *horror* of expending the effort to steal something twice? Dreadful! Not to mention how Jamesie would utterly *howl* at the loss!"

"Is everything in the apartment stolen?" Klaus asked with slightly widened eyes.

"Heavens, no!" Dorian informed him, pausing to unlock the front door as he shook his head. "Only the things I like best and simply couldn't bear to part with..."

"Isn't that *everything* you use as decoration...?" Klaus almost teased as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "It's at least quite a lot, na?"

"Nnnhmmmm..." was the reply, Dorian stealing the pack lightly from his fingers. "You know, you smoke much more than is good for you, darling. These things are utterly packed full of cancer. At least you could smoke something lighter if you're going to smoke so much..."

"Lighter...?" Klaus asked, as if the idea or concept had *NEVER* crossed his mind.

The other man nodded. "Mmm. I wouldn't ask you to *quit*, I'd hate to try and live with you while you did, but think about cutting back, won't you? I'd just as soon have you around for a bit longer, and since we aren't likely to get shot at *quite* as much..."

"I didn't smoke when we were on the island, I didn't smoke while we were on the plane, and I didn't smoke when I was driving," Klaus reminded him, "In fact, I haven't smoked in a *week*, which is far too damn long."

That gained him a slow smile. "Since you didn't smoke on the island or on the plane or in the car, I rather thought now was a good time to bring it up," Dorian told him, "since you know you can live without them..."

Oh, damn, he'd just gone and argued Dorian's case for him. "Maybe I can go without them -- but the *motion* calms my nerves," Klaus excused.

"Then maybe..." Pink tongue darted out, caressing over lower lip as Dorian moved closer. "...it's time to learn a new motion."

"You smoke, too," Klaus reminded, a desperate last attempt as he let his body move of its own accord closer to Dorian, to make that tease of a kiss a real kiss.

"I'll quit," Dorian promised, bare centimeters away from Klaus's lips. "Never touch the things again..."

"Can't I just find something else to smoke...? Different brand...." There were just places that he couldn't kiss Dorian, times where it was inappropriate, despite the willingness to shun authorities' views.

"I'll buy you something to make up for it," was the vow given just before their mouths touched, parting for Dorian to continue breathlessly. "Something to chew on that'll take your mind off of it..."

"I refuse to give up drinking when it's appropriate," Klaus said firmly, before Dorian decided he wanted to change that, too! That didn't stop him from kissing the thief though, hard and luxurious in motion. "Hmn."

"Wouldn't...mmmmm, dream of making you," Dorian sighed. "You can have all the Mosel you want..."

"Getting drunk again with you is an enjoyable prospect." Klaus finally backed them into the entry room enough to close to door behind them, locking it with the hand he didn't have around Dorian's waist.

"We can do that tonight," Dorian promised him huskily, already beginning to strip him, not caring that they were standing in the foyer in broad daylight. "Now, though..."

It didn't matter, either -- there was no one else around, and no clear windows to watch through. "Now...?" Klaus prompted huskily, as he moved an arm so Dorian could slide right off the shirt that he'd just finished unbuttoning.

"Now, I want to please you," the blond man murmured, hands tracing over bare flesh already. "I want you to enjoy me, and I want to enjoy *you*..."

"Hmn, how...?" Klaus had some ideas already, as he moved his hands to start pulling up and off Dorian's shirt. "Anything, Dorian... 's so good to be home, some place secure..."

For a moment, Dorian hesitated, but then he leaned up and kissed Klaus again. "Maybe we could try what we did on the island... only reversed?"

"Reversed...?" Immediately, he thought of being over Dorian, with the blond beneath him; yet common sense told him that Dorian wanted... something that he had every right to want. That didn't stop Klaus from freezing up for a moment before he said, "We'll try."

"If you don't want to..." came the tentative beginning of a reply.

"Nein, it's only fair," Klaus countered, moving his hands up beneath Dorian's shirt to caress smooth-muscled skin. "Into the bedroom, then..."

"I love you," Dorian whispered to him fervently kissing him again, arms wrapping about his neck. "Love you madly, Klaus, my Klaus..."

Hands on Dorian's back slid to grasp him closer, and then Klaus picked him up rather efficiently. "I know -- I love you, Dorian, I know."

There was something so utterly *decadent* about being held in those strong arms, just as if he was one of his darling fluffy boys instead of a man full grown! It was something he'd missed over the years, and he clung tightly to the dark-haired German man, nuzzling at his ear. "I want it to be so good for you, as wonderful as it is for me. I want you to feel so perfectly *exquisite*, Klaus..."

"One step at a time," Klaus murmured as he used Dorian's butt as a sort of battering ram to push open the door. That brought the bed into sight, and from the *crispness* of the linens, the bedding had been put down rather recently. A pity they were just going to make a mess of it again...

With a breathless little laugh, Dorian kissed him again, shivering with want, with the sheer *need* for Klaus. "Hmmm, darling..."

"You know what you're doing, so..." Klaus set Dorian down on the bed and then sat down beside him, too, to be on level with him, to kiss and touch again. "You lead."

That was permission given and taken, Dorian leaning over him, hands going effortlessly to finish unclothing them. "Beautiful," he sighed, mouth pressing light kisses to Klaus's prominent jaw, sliding beneath to find the pulse of blood in his throat, strong and thrumming beneath the skin. "Mine..."

Shoes were toed off, pants shed, belts and underwear lost to the floor; Klaus's watch remained for the moment out of sheer carelessness, as the German was eager to remain kissing Dorian, trying to tease the thief's tongue into his own mouth again. His efforts did not go unappreciated, for they quickly gained him precisely what he'd wanted, and Dorian's hands sliding down his body to go with it! They settled back onto the bed slowly, side by side, legs tangling as Dorian began to spread kisses over bare shoulders, down his upper arms. "Yes..."

It was taking a little effort to relax into it, to fall into the flow of need and touch, response and reaction, but it was worth it to touch at Dorian's muscles and skin, letting and enjoying the lips on his chest, over scars and hard muscle. "That way... I like that."

"I always want that for you," Dorian murmured huskily, tracing lips to one of those abused, scarred nipples, lathing attention upon it sweetly. Despite the deadened nerve endings of all that tissue, he made it feel good, and the touch of Klaus's fingers finding their way into his hair was proof of that.

Either it was pressure, or Dorian's skill in finding the unscarred edges of both nubs, but Klaus could *feel* that, as he did whenever Dorian did it. Strange sensations that he'd only ever felt with Dorian, and the thick golden curls beneath his hands as he stroked gently. "So good."

"Love..." Dorian breathed, moving to the mate of the first, leaving a lightly damp trail behind, one that had Klaus's nerves singing as the heat came on in the apartment, stirring the air and caressing over his skin. "Hmmm..."

"'f I need... you to stop, you will?" Klaus asked needlessly, though he wanted the assurance that Dorian would.

"The very moment," came the promise, kisses trailing to his navel. "Not a second past the words passing your lips. I love you so, Klaus. I never want to hurt you, ever..."

Klaus shivered as Dorian's hair tickled against his skin; he knew what was coming, wanted it, feared it... "No, you wouldn't hurt me, just like I wouldn't hurt you. Dorian, trust you..."

"Yes," Dorian whispered, pressing a kiss now to the tip of Klaus's erect cock, lightly slipping his tongue over the head. He tugged at the foreskin slightly before taking it between his lips and sucking deeply. "Mmmm..."

"You're..." Intent on driving Klaus mad, it seemed, though the German knew he would protest little if at all -- it felt *good*, what did it matter that Dorian's lips were wrapped around him again, giving pleasure while none was taken? It was Dorian, and Klaus kept himself consciously aware that everything evened out in the end.

Dorian's hands slid beneath him, lightly cupping his rear as if to bring him close. He wasn't entirely comfortable with that -- no, he wasn't.... It was Dorian, though, Dorian touching him, Dorian *wanting* him, and that, he could bear. That, he wanted... "Love you," Dorian whispered, granting kisses slowly, miraculously upon that shaft. "So much. My Klaus. Yes..."

And if he couldn't bear it.... Dorian would stop when he said to. Dorian would, because Dorian loved him... and because he loved Dorian, wanted to make him happy, Klaus knew he probably wouldn't say 'stop', no matter how much it made him uncomfortable. Anything for Dorian. "Ah, Dorian..."

Shifting upward, Dorian pressed his lips to Klaus's, blanketing him momentarily in the length of his body, pressing to him tenderly. "Just a second," he whispered, lips brushing Klaus's cheek before he moved away from him, reaching for the bedside drawer before coming back with a little tube, one conspicuously meant for just what Klaus *thought* it was meant.

Dorian really was going to fuck him, and it was almost an ominous sealing of fates to which Klaus had already committed himself. He loved the other man, loved to touch his body, loved to kiss him, hear his voice, lay beside him in the still of the night and be comforted by their safety together... It was only right that if he was queer he learn how to take it from Dorian. With that thought, he kept his eyes latched on Dorian, concentrating on staying calm.

"Klaus," came the murmur of that delicious, rich voice, sliding over him. "If you don't want this, we don't have to... really, we can just do it the other way, and I won't mind..." Even relaxed, Dorian could tell that he was worried!

"I want to try this," Klaus stressed softly.

THAT brought a smile to Dorian's lips, slow, sweet, and his fingers were smeared heavily with the lubricant so that Klaus could see. "Kiss me," he murmured, the heel of his hand slowly sliding down the other man's body, slipping between his legs, slick fingers held away for the moment that they would be needed.

A shudder, partly fear, partly anticipation, raced through Klaus was he leaned up minutely to take Dorian's lips, to kiss the other man deeply, slowly. If he took a deep enough kiss, perhaps he'd forget what they were going to do...

An impossibly delicate tease pressed between rounded cheeks, lightly caressing over puckered opening. There was no thrust, no penetration, only that bare touch, teasing at him, moving with infinite care over him as Dorian drowned him in kisses, pressing close against him. "Love you," he breathed. "Love you, Klaus..."

"Know... I know..." It was hard to not tense up at that teasing touch, able to only remember being told that it was a 'taste' of what queers did together, and *that* had felt like... "'s okay."

"If you don't like anything, tell me to stop it," Dorian soothed. "Tell me at any moment.." The tip end of a finger slowly penetrated him, infinitely tender. Odd -- not pain, but a tingle that was discomfort against muscles that were determined that nothing went *up* that way. But Dorian had taken it. Dorian had, without too much problem, and he'd been *raped*. /I'll be fine,/ Klaus told himself again.

"'re you all right, darling?" Dorian whispered, stealing his lips with a care, slowly sliding that finger deeper. /Want this to feel so good for you.../

"'m fine," Klaus shivered at that slow, careful invasion. Straight forwards, nothing else yet but that finger slipping into him, no stretching and no pain yet. So, it wasn't a lie, no matter how edgy he felt.

With care, Dorian probed, lightly reaching for the soft, spongy nub that he knew was there, seeking, searching.... Struck it, to get a muffled *noise* out of Klaus as the ache from Dorian's gentle scrub over it shot through him. "Nnh...!"

"Klaus?" That was an uncertain sound, Dorian going very still. "Was that all right?" he asked hesitantly. It hadn't *sounded* all right...

Oh shit, *shit*, what was he supposed to do? Tell Dorian that it had hurt like blazes, or grit his teeth and try to pass it off as pleasure? Or just shock...? "'s... a little rough," he managed.

"Would you like to stop?" Dorian whispered. "Or would you like me to try again?"

"Keep... keep going, but don't do that again." Shuddered words, as Klaus minutely shifted his hips against Dorian's hand.

With kisses, Dorian soothed the way, shifting his hand so that his finger wouldn't rub there again. How they'd ever manage sex, he didn't know and didn't care; only he didn't want to hurt Klaus. Not ever, he'd rather die!

"'s not so bad," Klaus shuddered, eyes closing tightly as Dorian started to move his finger again, careful still to not touch that nub. The movement was a slow steady shift, Dorian's kisses sweet on his mouth.

"Klaus," he whispered. "We don't have to do this. I'm just as happy to do it the other way, if you want..." It would mean he wouldn't hurt Klaus that way, a thought at which he fairly cringed!

"I want to try this," Klaus uttered tensely. "I want to... at least try this." His arms came up around Dorian's shoulders, glad that the other man was close.

"Then you need to relax," Dorian murmured, lightly prying at him, teasing him, his other hand moving to caress over turgid flesh as he shifted, kneeling up beside Klaus. "You need to let go, darling..."

"Let... why?" Uncertainly asked, though he did start to obey, hands slipping from their close grasp to simply linger at Dorian's sides.

"No, no, not of me," Dorian murmured, an assurance. "Just relax, let go of being nervous..." The feel of his mouth, teasing, touching along with his hands, was soothing in so many ways. "Just enjoy. I'll try not to do that again..."

"All right." All right. After all, if Dorian accepted and enjoyed it, he could, too -- it only made sense! And Dorian wanted to do it, wanted to make love with him that way... how could Klaus refuse. Softer now, "All right."

"Love you," Dorian whispered reassuringly, another finger sliding into him slowly, stretching him open. "I love you, Klaus.... It will be all right..."

For a moment, all that could be managed was a shudder, and then Klaus asked, quietly, "'s it get better?"

"For *me*, it does," was the worried response. "But I like when you touch that place inside of me that you don't, very much. This might be one of those things that I like that you won't..."

"We'll try it," Klaus murmured, shifting his hips -- the stretching didn't feel bad, just a little odd, a strange tickling twinge of sensation. "I don't see why it'd be different between us."

A nuzzle against his belly proved sweet, against his cock, sweeter. "Sometimes," Dorian whispered, lightly kissing him as his fingers plied Klaus carefully open, "that spot's very sensitive. Sometimes, that's good. And sometimes," he said, nuzzling against the warmly furred balls beneath that stiff flesh, "sometimes, it's not so good. Every person's different.."

The hands that had been at his sides slid up, to clutch gently at Dorian's shoulders. Lips and thick silken curls, gentle teeth and tender nuzzles, all meant to drive Klaus to a point of utter arousal; all good counters for that stretching Dorian was doing, so very careful. "Hmnnn... what... hn, what you're doing now is very good...:"

"Ahhh," Dorian sighed, smiling. "You like this..." That was without doubt, particularly when he took one of Klaus's testicles lightly into his mouth to suck on it, shivering with the pleasure of it. "Hmm..." Klaus tasted so *good* to him! All salt and soap and man, all Klaus, and it simply couldn't get any better!

"Ohhh!" A hissed gasp of breath, hips arching up towards him sharply to try to get more of the sensation of Dorian's wicked lips on him. "Oahhh, 's good, Dorian... that..."

The bare whisper of a chuckle vibrated, sending shivers down his spine, the fingers in him slithering out slowly as he shifted, moving a slick hand to his own flesh as he moved up to gently press his lips to Klaus's, nudging him with kisses. "Mmmm, darling," he breathed, shifting carefully between the other man's thighs. It'd be better that way, he hoped; easier to miss the obviously sensitive prostate than if they did it any other.

"Kiss... I want to kiss you more," Klaus asked achingly, feelings more on edge now that it was inevitable than at any other time yet. He wanted a hell of a lot more than those sweet nudging kisses, hoping to God that it would take his mind from it for just long enough, if the act happened while he was devouring Dorian's mouth.

"They're yours," Dorian whispered, meaning his kisses, and he stole Klaus's mouth, then, firm and sweet, shifting into position as he did it.

Arms came up around him again, Klaus half-way sitting up just to get closer as he slipped his tongue into the earl's mouth, searching fiercely and *waiting*...

When he pushed in, it was to resistance, and he groaned against Klaus's mouth, unable to stop the sound from coming loose. It mingled with the one that Klaus gave, both of them unable to stop it, and he shuddered. It hurt *him* because Klaus was so tense; so surely it must be hurting Klaus, he knew! "Y'need to..." Oh, GOD! He panted a little, shivering. "Relax, Klaus. Relax..."

Relax, relax, Dorian told him -- how was he supposed to relax a muscle that was against his will wildly clutching at, trying to force and keep out Dorian's hard cock?! It hurt, hurt just as much as it had when the Stasi had done less to him. His legs, on either side of Dorian, clenched, a lowly gritted back moan escaping him. "Trying."

"Press out," Dorian encouraged, shuddering. "Press like you're trying to push me out, not take me in..."

That was easier to do, pressing out while Dorian pushed in; it didn't make sense to Klaus why it let the earl in *further*, when by all laws of physics it should have been added resistance. The pain eased a little, too, only to be replaced by a much deeper in stretching. "S-slow down!!"

"All right!" Dorian gasped, stopping. It took everything he could do to stop that slow forward movement of his hips, to halt it to nothing at all, and he trembled violently when he finally managed it, clinging to Klaus. Both of them were sweat damp and shaking, and he was so afraid that he was going to hurt the German man... so *afraid*! "Tell me when you want to stop," he pleaded, burying his face against the other man's salt-streaked flesh.

It was hard to tell who was shaking worse -- Klaus dealing with unfamiliar pains, or Dorian with his thwarted frustration and fear. "'s... I... I can take it, just...." He tried pushing back again, and that eased the painful tightness some. /Just fucking calm down, you're hurting him, you're hurting him that you can't do this, so *do* it... bite your tongue and *do* it!!/

"Just tell me when," Dorian whispered, clinging to him tightly. "Tell me when you think you'll be all right, tell me if you want me to stop and I swear I will. I swear, Klaus..."

"Try moving, try moving -- it's not getting any better this way... t-try moving," Klaus half-ordered, strained as his shivered and oddly glad of Dorian's clinging.

Carefully, so carefully, Dorian finished pushing into him, a slow flex of hip and thigh, fully aware of Klaus's wilting erection. "Is that better?" he whispered, rocking just barely once he was deep in his lover.

A hiss of indrawn breath was almost answer enough. Klaus didn't need to finish with the word that he did. "N-nein. I... I can't, Dorian, I'm sorry, I-I can't..."

"It's all right," Dorian told him, pulling out slowly, so *slowly*, trying desperately to be careful. His own erection was fast wilting, and that made it slide out a bit easier. "It's all right, Klaus. It's all right..."

So much for what Klaus had hoped would be a wonderful exploration of each other in the safety of their own domain. He'd managed to fuck it up, royally, though Dorian would forgive him for it, as Dorian always seemed to do. "I should be able to... w-we'll try again when I'm more relaxed."

"Shhh," Dorian told him, kissing him sweetly and gathering him close, tight. "It's all right, sweet. Some men simply don't like that. That's not all there is to it; you know there's so much more. I'd rather do what you enjoy than do something you don't..."

Of course what Dorian was saying made sense -- only Klaus *needed* to give back what he took, he *wanted* it to be an even field between them. And nothing had felt so wonderful and intimate as being inside of Dorian, and now, knowing he wouldn't be able to return the same, how could he ever ask for that from his companion? While the soreness lingered, though, Klaus tried to regather himself, to save their time together. "Anything, Dorian," he promised against Dorian's lips. "Anything."

"Love me," Dorian managed to say breathily, yielding to that kiss. "Just love me, Klaus. Always..."

"I couldn't not love you -- I just wish..." That he could do what Dorian had so obviously wanted. He just wanted to make and keep the thief happy, the thief who'd done just what he'd said he'd done -- stolen his heart, without telling Klaus until long after the fact.

The hands that lightly cupped his face felt so *good*, beyond wonderful. "Klaus," that deep voice murmured firmly, "what you do for me is beyond knowing. *I* enjoy what we do, and I don't need anything more. What we do is more than enough, and so good I could die with the pleasure of it. All right?"

"Ja." Rough, bare agreement, but granted. It was hard to deny that rich English drawl, the slender fingers on his damp cheeks. "Ja. If you enjoy it, then... then it's perfect. Whatever you want."

"My darling Klaus," he whispered, kissing him so sweetly, the length of him pressed tightly along the other man's side. "I enjoy it. It's perfect. And it's exactly what I want -- you and me. And that's all."

"You and me." A raggedly echoed sigh, as Klaus initiated the next kiss, slow and comforting to them both. "Ja -- ja, just you and me. 's all we need."

"Ever," Dorian agreed, snuggling close. He wasn't sure if he still *wanted* sex or not, but it felt so good to just be close to Klaus!

Still calming down, Klaus was content to lay there for as long as he could -- with Dorian curled comfortably atop him. "Do you... want to do anything?"

"Hmmm-mmm," Dorian declined, kissing his cheek. "I think I just want to be with you," he whispered.

"Ja... that dulled things a little," Klaus murmured, the words still apologetic, though he did turn his head towards Dorian's kiss. "Hmn. This is nice, too."

"Very nice," the blond man agreed, smiling and kissing him with an undeniable adoration. "Perhaps in the morning, then..."

"And after that, we'll start research." He was going to be sore probably until he woke up, but... but Dorian was still happy, so it didn't matter at all. "In the morning, Dorian. Pull the sheets up?"

A squirm brought the sheets up over them, gained him a kiss. "Love you, Klaus," Dorian sighed, pressed close against him, the warmth of skin on skin exquisite. "So much..."

"Yes -- yes, It's so much... better to be with you, than it was to be without you." So, it was the afternoon -- they'd always had odd hours, and this would be nothing new.

Lips brushed his own again, arms wrapped around him, eyes closed. "We'll do research. We'll start tomorrow," Dorian sighed sleepily. Oh, the trip had been so *long*, and it was so easy to relax into the arms of a trusted loved one...

The lock was easy enough to jimmy open; a cheap thing, and the bolt was no more difficult at all, slipping open beneath his fingers as if it was nothing. His heart was wild in his chest, pounding with a vicious rhythm, coming almost up into his throat, but... /Oh, God, this had better work!/

He just kept thinking of it as the break in that it really was supposed to look like -- just a random thief breaking into a random small town-house, a privileged place to live in for a Soviet. No security system to speak of, though Dorian could guess that the man had senses like Klaus did...

"[Do not move, thief,]" the man growled, and Dorian recognized not only the words but the voice, stiffening and almost *trembling* with sudden fear. He hadn't thought he'd be caught so SOON!!

"[Put your hands up and turn around for me.]" A gun was being made volatile, he could hear it -- the removal of the safety, the scrape of metal against his back.

Silently, Dorian obeyed, drawing in a deep breath as he turned, not wanting to look at the blond officer... not wanting to ever see him again!

"You!" Very surprised, yet pleased all at once. "What are you doing breaking into *here*, you pretty faggot? Where's your master?"

Lips tight, Dorian shook his head, eyes narrowing slowly. He wasn't going to say anything!

"Still... not speaking?" the officer sneered, jabbing the gun against Dorian's chest. "You know what happened when you *stopped* talking, hmn? Walk forward."

Frowning, Dorian did, taking a step closer to the Stasi officer reluctantly. /Klaus, where are you?/ he fretted. /I wasn't supposed to get caught so soon!/

Thus, Klaus was as yet nowhere to be seen! He was still running on the original schedule that didn't allow him a window of entry for another three minutes!! "Faster, you fag. Walk faster, or you'll suck me off here. I'll shoot you, and I'd get a medal for it." The officer was walking backwards down the hall, in the dark, with all the familiarity of someone who'd lived in a place for years.

Silently, Dorian followed him, waiting for an opportunity to tackle him, to take the gun away, to run -- an opportunity that didn't come, even as the man walked backwards into what was obviously a bedroom. /Oh, God, Klaus... please come soon!/

"Lay down," the officer directed with a sharp smile. "Spread your arms and legs."

"No," Dorian protested, voice low and harsh. He wouldn't! He *couldn't*!

"Lay down on that bed and spread your fag legs, or I'll shoot you!" That was a roar, low and unchallengeable.

Jumping visibly, Dorian winced and moved forward, dropping down onto the bed as ordered. He bit his lip tightly as he obeyed, shuddering slightly with the sheer *fear* rocketing through him. To be vulnerable at this man's hands once again...

To be vulnerable and hurt, now that he had Klaus!

"[Lovely fag,]" the officer purred, moving beside the bed, gun still at ready, though his free hand slid along the inside of Dorian's thigh. "Lie still, or I'll chain you down."

Unable to help himself, he tried to pull away, closing his eyes tightly as he bit his lip. "No!"

The gun jabbed again, hard against his crotch. "Listen to me, or I'll blow them off of you."

Whimpering, unable to help himself, Dorian moved his hands to cover his face, trembling as he felt the man continue molesting him. /I can't bear it!/ he thought, feeling tears well up in his fear, intense and too real. /I can't, I can't!/

No Klaus yet, though -- seconds left until Klaus was supposed to appear, yet so much could happen in those long, long seconds... Like the officer's hand groping his groin, trying to rip with vicious playfulness at the cloth of his black pants. That was when he saw it through his fingers -- a blur of motion and a snarl that made him think a dog had been loosed. Yet when he felt the officer topple atop him, felt the spray of a shattered vase, he knew it was Klaus.

With a sob, he launched himself off of the bed at the other man, arms wrapping tightly around Klaus's neck, silent little releases of breath lurching loose from him. "I th-thought you'd n-never come!"

"You got caught too soon," Klaus almost growled as he held Dorian close for the moment. "I'm here now --- are you all right? We need to finish and be gone before dawn."

Wiping his face against Klaus's black-clad shoulder, he nodded, trembling. "I'm okay," he lied, shuddering. "Let's get started."

"Are you sure that you are?" Klaus pressed -- if they'd have to, he'd just slit the man's throat and they could flee, if Dorian *had* to get out of there that moment.

"Let's just get on with it," Dorian answered grimly. "I... I want to get this over with and go *home* with you..."

"All right, then," Klaus murmured, handing Dorian a knife from his own sheath, as he moved to turn the officer over on the bed, face-up. He was just unconscious -- for the moment. Even if he didn't wake up when Dorian began to cut, Klaus wanted to feel a *pulse* when he saw those genitals cut off. Bastard...

Grimly enough, Dorian moved forward, pulling at zipper, button, tugging the Stasi officer's pants off of his hips. He concentrated very deliberately not on what he was doing but on what the man had done to Klaus. A slow, steady burning fury rose up, one that was never far from the surface, and when he placed the knife, he paused, looking up at Klaus as if for a sign, a needed acknowledgement.

He got a grim nod, Klaus making sure that his simple but effective choke hold, and grasp of the man's right wrist in his better left hand, twisted behind the officer's back, were good grasps. "Do it."

With a downward stroke, the knife sliced clean, despite the jerk of the man's body and the violent protest as he came to, the feel of that blade cutting into him enough to wake even a dead man. It was almost more than Dorian could bear, the sounds of his protest terrible, but he kept cutting, all the same, until he felt cock and balls both drop off onto the bed. /Oh, God... can't puke here.../

A moment more of that hysterical, muffled screaming, choked by Klaus's arm, and then the German man neatly slit the officer's throat. The thin red line burbled blood and choked air more than an arm ever could; and without breaking a beat, Klaus began to tear with that knife, viciously cutting as far as he could, through membranes, flesh and towards bone. The sounds were horrible; worse than horrible, and Dorian knew he was going to be sick if he didn't move, get up, not *look*, not *see* how brutally savage Klaus was being!

He shifted from the bed, hands covering his ears tightly, and he waited; waited for Klaus to be done, waited for the man's head to be removed... waited....

Even covering his ears didn't spare him the hissed, rough curses being flung at a mutilated body, as Klaus struggled to direct his viciousness at the cartilage between vertebrae, the cord. Blood made the blade slick in his fingers, hard to grasp as he finally cut it free and then just clutched the fistful of the stasi officer's hair, panting. Victorious in so many ways, at last.
"Hand me the bags."

Trembling violently, nearly ill, Dorian brought them from the doorway where Klaus had dropped them, unable to look at his lover or the mutilated body on the bed, nearly sick with the horror of what they'd done. /I can't believe I... we.../

The only part of the gruesome ordeal that touched Klaus at all, it seemed, was the blood soaking through his clothes. The head was neatly deposited in one bag, the man's cock and balls in another. Then with bloody fingers he moved to the dresser and began to rifle through the drawers for identification papers to put in the third bag. "We'll go home soon -- or straight to the Bonn office, if you want."

"To the office," Dorian whispered queasily. "I want to get rid of it!"

"They'll take us seriously now, Dorian," Klaus said firmly, "And we're safe now. You're safe. He'll never be able to hurt anyone else."

"I know.." He DID know. He knew it had to be done, that *they* had to do it, that it had to be *together*...

He'd just never before known he *could* do such a thing!

It wasn't aesthetic, and it wasn't anything that was expected of the thief... "Dogtags," Klaus muttered to himself, moving to retrieve them from the body.

"Let's go, please..." The words were almost pleading, shudders rippling through Dorian, down his spine...

Oh god, but at least *his* spine was still intact!

Klaus retrieved the tags, though, dried them on the edge of the bed, and dropped them into the third bag, along with a passport and work papers. He let Dorian keep that one, taking the other two for himself. "We're going."

Nodding shakily, Dorian moved close to Klaus's left side, just a few steps behind him. "I'll... go out first," he said softly, desperately not wanting to be left alone with the body.

"Together -- no more splitting up," Klaus told him, waiting for his lover to join him. Three and a half months of planning, and it had all gone off almost without a hitch.

Another nod, Dorian slipping up close to them, and they moved silently out through the back door of the apartment, heading quickly and infinitely quietly down the fire escape. Their car was parked two streets over -- a junker much like the one they'd had on their first mission, actually, one that made Dorian wish for a better car.

Back in Bonn, though, waiting for them, there were two better cars -- Dorian's sporty car, and Klaus's Benz. No more shit-junkers to blend in with the rest of the area. Klaus dropped the parts in a cardboard box in the trunk, sealed the box, then slipped into the driver's seat. "'s a long drive -- you can sleep while I drive."

"Close to you?" Dorian asked insecurely. "I think I'm going to be sick, Klaus..."

"You're going to be sick...?" Being told that brought him down from his state of vicious cold, just enough to be of help to dorian again. "Why?"

"We just..." he whispered, clenching his eyes tightly shut. "Oh, GOD..."

"Tell me, Dorian -- tell me what's wrong," Klaus asked him, driving carefully and unremarkably down the streets. "Tell me...."

"We just killed that man," Dorian whispered, laying down and burying his face against Klaus's thigh, tears rising wildly. "He touched me and I hated him and I wanted him to die and we... we... j-just..."

Blood -- in the cloth of Klaus's black trousers, he could smell blood... "Killed him. You haven't.... you haven't, before, have you?"

Choking back bile, Dorian shook his head, jerking up from Klaus. "No," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly, the stench in his nose, thick on the back of his tongue. "Never."

"We'll wash when we get home -- and you can tell me anything, Dorian, at all... First time is always.... always the hardest." Now it didn't bother him at all -- but he hoped, for both their sakes, that Dorian was always bothered by it.

"I don't ever want to do it again," Dorian told him, raising his hand to his face, covering his eyes. Even *he* smelled like blood! There was no getting away from it... "Not ever. Please, Klaus, don't ever let me again..."

"Never. Back to stealing... cracking safes and being my better sense, for you, Dorian." He spared a hand, for a moment, to squeeze Dorian's knee.

With a shaky little sound, Dorian nodded, eyes still closed tightly. "Let's hurry home," he whispered. "Once we're done. I desperately want a bath..."

"It's a few hours now," Klaus said uneasily, hand still on Dorian's knee. "Just sleep? Then we'll go to the office, and then we'll go home. We'll go wherever you want to -- your apartment, or... hell, the Schloss." Where he hadn't gone except to get clothes in too long -- surely his father was waiting to come down upon him hard, to talk to him and to ask those questions Klaus had been avoiding for almost too long.

"Somewhere quiet," Dorian answered, still trembling. "Somewhere we can bathe and you can hold me and I won't have to think..." God, he didn't want to think!

"Your apartment, then." Because he *knew* it was safe, knew that they'd be comfortable and feel like it was home. But he'd have to stop hiding, wouldn't he? "Just sleep -- close your eyes, and I'll wake you when we're in Bonn."

Trembling still, Dorian nodded, settling back in his seat. "I love you, Klaus," he whispered, eyes on the dark-haired man. "Love you awfully. You won't... you don't..." /See me differently, now that you've seen me do that? Do you?/ he wondered, biting his lip tightly.

That thought hadn't even neared Klaus's mind -- yet there was no way for Dorian to be sure. "Won't what, Dorian?" he pressed quietly, taking the twinings of the road with unremarkable skill -- just like any other driver would, nothing to distinguish him.

"Won't think of me differently," Dorian whispered, shivering. "Won't... won't not love me because I did..."

"Did what we needed to do? Dorian, it... hearing you say that sounds absurd. I need you, you need me, nothing has changed just because we're *safe* now." He wished he could stop driving -- wished it intensely, yet he knew he had to keep going, that he couldn't comfort Dorian yet, or let the adrenaline leave his own system.

"I'm glad," Dorian whispered, swallowing hard, grateful that they hadn't eaten anything before they'd gone into that town house! "So long as we're safe. So long as no one hurts you again..."

"We're safe Dorian -- God, we're safe." Klaus was trying hard to make that seem like a solid fact to the thief, though it was hard to convince himself of that thoroughly. "We'll live our lives now, however we want."

"Any way we want..." Dorian whispered. "I want to be happy with you, Klaus. You and I, just happy. That's all..." Content and safe...

"We will be -- we are. Now, sleep -- it'll make the drive quicker for you if you sleep."

"'ll try," the blond man promised him tiredly, closing his eyes. Behind them, he could still see everything they had done, the horror of it deep in him. He wondered if he'd ever be able to close his eyes and not see it, hear it, know they'd done it...

He woke up to daylight, piercing through the lids of his eyes, though, and Klaus shaking him gently. The car had stopped, and they were in a very familiar...

Parking garage.

"We're back?" he asked muzzily, lashes fluttering open slowly. "A'ready?"

"We're here -- do you want me to take it in, Dorian?" Klaus asked, already unbuckled and leaning over Dorian just a bit. The German had no idea that he still had a little blood on his face, and though he'd cleaned his hands his shirt was soaked with the dried stuff.

"I'll come," Dorian answered a little hoarsely, waking up a bit better. "I want to be with you..." Especially after the last night, he desperately needed to be with Klaus!

"All right," Klaus murmured, leaning in for a light kiss, before he leaned back. "I'll get the... box."

With a nod, Dorian undid his own seatbelt and slipped from the car, standing by the side of it to stretch and scratch momentarily at his lower back, biting his lip and frowning. /Can't believe I slept through us getting back,/ he thought, moving to the trunk as Klaus opened it up and reached inside to pull out the box. /I s'pose exhaustion does that to you../ Well, that and the sheer terror of *trauma*, though he had arguably suffered much less than the man they'd killed. Much, much less... It had been frightening, yes, but there was frightening and there was *dying* horribly, having Klaus digging a knife around in your neck...

The box was weighty, the bottom sagging a little, damply, when Klaus lifted it, but there were no stains of blood on the bottom. "Let's go."

With a nod, Dorian shifted into step beside him, heading upward through the parking lot towards the building. He held the door open for Klaus and moved silently with him towards the desk there and the secretaries who were gathering at that early hour of the morning, just arriving to work.

"Major..." one of them said, obviously not expecting to see him there. "Can I help you?"

"I have something for the Chief," Klaus said crisply, with an inclination of his head to the box.

"He isn't in yet," she said, peeking at the thing. "Can I deliver it for you?"

"I'd rather you didn't -- may I leave it on his desk?"

Reluctantly, she eyed the box. "I'm not sure I can let you do that, Major..." After all, there could be just anything in that box!

"Then I suppose I'll leave it here -- but it's evidence," he said, obviously disliking that he'd have to leave it with the secretaries. "Or I could just wait until he does come in."

"He should be in within the next fifteen minutes," the woman told him, smiling. "Or you could give it to one of your Alphabet..." They were, after all, *still* Klaus's Alphabet, no matter who might come after him.

"I'll wait," Klaus said almost smugly, though he set the box with a wet noise atop the entry desk. "I want to see the look on his face."

Ohh, and Dorian knew it'd be a doozy! The squelch as the box sat down made him cringe, and so he asked, "D'you have a plastic bag or something? I'm afraid we might need it in another ten or fifteen minutes..." By the time the Chief came in, anyway!

"Or a small, brown paper bag," Klaus amended, lips still wearing that frightening half smile as he fixed his gaze towards the door.

"Plastic would be better," Dorian assured her, the woman looking at them a bit wildly.

"Er... HERE, Major," she said, reaching beneath the desk and quickly pulling the liner out of the trash can there to offer THAT to him.

"I can't see why," he drawled, looking to Dorian. "I sealed it -- it isn't *leaking*."

"But it's *squishing*," Dorian informed him with a little shudder. "Really, darling..."

"Condensation -- it's only a little."

"What... what's *in* the box," one secretary dared to ask, with a fierce shake in her voice.

"It's a secret," Dorian murmured. "We could tell you but then, you know, I'd have to leave you alone with the Major..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, looking over with that smile, still laughing to himself just a little. "It's not like I'll hurt just *anyone!"

"Shhh, darling. You shouldn't tell them that. They might loose all fearful respect if you do!" his thief replied, that smile giving him chills.

No more words as a reply -- just another laugh, easily given and just as eerie as the others before it. "All right. All right. You keep working -- we'll be quiet while we wait."

The laugh alone was enough to send the women scattering, wild-eyed, and every so often, one of them would glance to where he stood and *shiver*.

"You're scary today, darling," Dorian murmured, feeling oddly as if he wasn't real, as if the world wasn't real. Perhaps even as if he was still asleep...

But no, it was real; Klaus was savoring his revenge on the man who'd hurt them both so much. And Klaus's revenge was a frightening thing that seemed to only grow in *glee* as he caught sight of the Chief coming near the doors. "Ah, this will be good."

Upon catching sight of them, it was nearly all the man could do not to turn around and run back out! /Eberbach only gets scarier with time.../ "Good morning, Eberbach," he harrumphed. "What brings you here so early?"

"A mission completed, as a favor to other western spies and to NATO," Klaus murmured, reaching into the pocket of his blood-stained black pants to pull out a piece of paper that had a name highlighted -- it was well worn, but it was still the top-sheet of the KGB report that Mischa had given him. "That is the name of the Stasi officer in charge of what was done to Lord Gloria and I."

The blood stench on both of them wafted past and the potbellied man looked at them wildly for a moment, hand reaching tremblingly for the paper that Eberbach offered him -- a paper which held bloody fingerprints. "My God," he whispered hoarsely. "My God, Eberbach, *what's in that box*!?"

"Just a little present," Dorian reiterated in a soft murmur. "I'm afraid our friend'll be hacking off no more body parts. Sad, I'm sure."

"Ja... And in this box..." Klaus slid it down from the desk to set it on the floor and open it as he knelt beside it. "These are his dogtags and identification papers... And his head is in one bag, and his genitals in the second."

One of the secretaries gave a little cry, another one fainting dead away, and the Chief turned white as a sheet. "My God, Eberbach," he whispered. "You're mad!"

"No," Dorian answered clinically. "He's not mad. Not any more than I am. We got revenge. The Stasi will now be afraid of *US* more than they are of NATO."

"We took out a top agent," Klaus murmured, setting the identification papers bag back into the box. "Mad, hmn? I can do things that you can't, that your agents can't."

Grimly, the old man looked at the two of them, silent momentarily before he finally, *finally*, gave a slow, solemn nod. "All right," he sighed, shaking his head. "All right."

"We'll leave this box with you, then," Klaus murmured, closing the flaps and standing up. "Shall I put it anywhere, or just leave it here?"

"Here's... fine," was the hoarse answer given as Dorian stepped up, arm slipping around Klaus's waist.

"Let's go home, darling..."

That seemed enough to distract Eberbach -- but nothing like the old days, where it would have been to shove Dorian away. No, this he moved into, closer. "Your apartment?"

"Unless Jamesie's home," was the agreement quietly provided, undoubtedly giving the Chief more gray hairs and perhaps even causing a few hairs to fall from his head with the shock. "Then, I want to go somewhere quieter..." Because if James saw them both bloodied, the high strung accountant would be terribly upset, and Dorian simply couldn't bear that. Not yet...

"My apartment, if that," Klaus said as they left the building. But it was so stark there... still, it was some place. "We'll look for his bicycle."

"Poor Jamesie. I hate to avoid him, only..." Only he just couldn't bear EXCITEMENT of any sort, not right at the moment, perhaps not even anytime soon!

"We're both tired." The drive back, which Dorian had slept through... had been harrowing for Klaus, though there was no need to tell the thief of that. "Tomorrow... tomorrow we should go back to the Schloss, I think."

Blue eyes slanted towards him as they moved towards the car. "Are you ready for that?" he murmured, shivering. It wasn't that it was terribly cool, only... only that everything seemed so awful and uncertain in the morning light!

"No more hiding, right...?" Klaus asked him, green meeting blue. Wordlessly, Dorian nodded. "Then we'll stop hiding. We... *I* need to know if I'm still an Eberbach," Klaus uttered in a low tone as they entered the parking garage again.

"Do you suppose your father knows yet?" Dorian asked hesitantly, reaching to clasp Klaus's hand lightly.

"Knows which part...?"

"Anything. Where you went. Me. What happened..."

"Nothing," Klaus murmured, "Not... that I know of. He'll know that I've been discharged, and why..." And hopefully no more -- or else, everything. Then it least the news would have had time to settle in for the old man.

Dorian nodded slowly. "I hope everything will be all right, Klaus. I hope..." His own father would have welcomed Klaus with open arms, he didn't doubt. Klaus's father...

Well.

He could comfort himself with the fact that his own father would not only have welcomed Klaus but would have been *very* proud of Dorian to settle down, happily, with someone who cared deeply about him. "If it isn't, at least it'll be a chance for me to move my things out of the schloss and into my apartment," Klaus shrugged, unlocking the car. "Do you think James is in right now...? Maybe we shouldn't even bother heading there..."

"They're due back sometime today," Dorian said by way of reply. "If they aren't there yet, they should be soon...."

"I brought a set of your clothes over to my apartment last week, didn't I?" Klaus asked, trying to jog his own memory as they both got into the car. "It's a little bare there, but it's quiet."

"Even if you didn't, we'll throw everything in the washer," Dorian told him, shivering slightly. Even he was slightly sticky with blood, and it made him nauseous. "By the time we get out of the shower, we can hang everything to dry..." He planned to stand under steaming hot water for a *very* long time!

"Blood is hell to get off," Klaus said agreeably as he started the car. "Think the chief got our message?"

"I think so," Dorian replied quietly, shivering. It was just so incomprehensibly *awful* to hear Klaus say things like that!! He didn't want to think about how hard it would be to get the blood off of them! /I'm a coward,/ he thought, frowning sharply. /A horrible, terrible coward.../

Klaus pulled out of the space, and then out of the lot before he spoke again. Now it was quieter, more contemplative. "I'm scaring you, aren't I?"

"A little," Dorian murmured. "I'm a coward. I'm sitting here with dried blood on me, we killed a man horribly, and all I want... all I *need*... is to be held tight against you and never let go and somehow... somehow... that makes me so *afraid*..."

"Why?" If he let himself think in response, at all to what Dorian was saying, in any way other than simply tucking it away to remember, he was sure he'd get caught in a rut. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong with needing you or with having killed someone?" Dorian asked, beginning to shake, the sheer horror of what they had done setting in again.

"Either." Klaus said it so very calmly. "I need you, too. Once... once we're home, and I've washed..."

"All right," Dorian said softly, still shivering. "All right."

"You.... it shouldn't bother you that we killed him -- he deserved it," Klaus assured. "He was sick -- everyone who knew him knew that."

That gained him a slow nod from the thief, a biting of lip. "I..." He shivered. "I know, Klaus, but God... I never thought I could... that is to say, I..."

"It's like when you didn't know the gun that you held had a bullet in it." That was accompanied by a knowing nod from Klaus. "That's all right."

"Oh, Klaus," Dorian sighed. "I really didn't want to know this about myself..."

"That you can kill? Everyone can. And you won't have to again." /I won't let you, because now I know it hurts you,/ the ex-major told himself.

"I love you," Dorian whispered, reaching for him, hand touching the blood stiff fabric of Klaus's pants, clinging to his thigh. "I do. I don't know what I'd do without you..."

"If you weren't there, I'd be lost," Klaus murmured without hesitation, taking a quick glance from the road to Dorian's face, before he looked back again. The glass eye lingered longer, eerily, before it drifted back to almost looking forwards.

Wordlessly, Dorian slid over, abandoning seat and seatbelt to sit thigh to thigh with Klaus, his desperate need to be close to the other man growing. "How much farther?" he murmured, trembling fingers clutching tightly to him.

"Two more streets, Dorian -- it's all right, we *are* nearly home..." And he loved Dorian, and wasn't that alone enough to keep the man calm?

Home... home meant somewhere together, Klaus's apartment or his own, and it didn't matter which one. Home meant safe, meant shower, meant being held close in Klaus's arms, and the mere thought relaxed him slightly. /Don't think about it, idiot,/ he told himself ruthlessly. /Don't think about it yet!/

Silence from Dorian was always a little disturbing for Klaus, but he didn't question it -- didn't dare to, not with Dorian so shaken! He pulled up in front of the building his apartment was in, and turned the car off.

For a moment, they sat there, and then Dorian looked at him, reached out, touched his face. "Let's go in?" he murmured, wanting desperately to be somewhere safe, safe with *Klaus*...

It seemed to spark Klaus back into motion. "Yes. Yes, let's..." He didn't want to break contact with Dorian, and was tempted, almost, to drag the man through his side of the car. "You've been here before, haven't you?"

A silent shake of the head came, the answer no. He had known, of course, that Klaus lived there, and Bonham had been, but he had never actually made his way into Klaus's sanctum.

"There isn't much to see here," Klaus told him gently as he pulled the key from the ignition and finally rose to his feet.

"All right," Dorian said, scooting out of the car on the driver's side to follow him, not wanting to be even that far away from Klaus. "I don't care. So long as it's quiet, and you and I are together..."

"We can... sit on the sofa and watch tv after we wash." Sit there and hold was what he meant by it -- holding without any pressure at all for anything past that, as might be implied in bed. Nodding, Dorian let Klaus shut the door behind him and wordlessly stepped close to him as they headed for the building. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked Dorian as he slipped an arm around his waist.

"I think so," Dorian answered quietly. "I've stopped being nauseous, so surely that's a good sign..."

"You'll feel better after sleeping," Klaus promised as he pulled keyed open the door of the hall and then moved up stairs to a landing and unlocked the three outer locks on his door.

/Paranoid,/ Dorian thought with a little smile, and he was sort of *glad* for it. That was what made Klaus *HIS* Klaus, after all. "And an electronic security system, too," he managed to tease, though it wasn't much of one.

"Ja, keeps the Soviets out," Klaus murmured, darting into the entry hall once the door was open, so he could key in his code.

"The Soviets must not be very good then," Dorian murmured, shaking his head slightly, at least *trying* to be his usual self for the moment. He was failing badly.

"Ah, they're very good -- it's just a matter of not wanting to," Klaus shrugged as he glanced around the bland, barely decorated room. "C'mon, my shower is this way..."

Aquamarine gaze remained on him as they moved through the monotonous hallway to the equally dreary bathroom, all of it done in beige and other shades of functional brown and gray. He didn't comment on it, only glad to be nearing water and the opportunity to at last be *clean*...

"Just put your clothes on the floor," Klaus murmured, sounding a little tired as he moved forwards to turn on the tap in the shower. In bare seconds, the black catsuit was off and on the floor and Dorian was pressed against his back, hugging him tightly. "Hmn, I don't get a chance to undress?" Klaus teased, careful to be gentle as he straightened up, slipping an arm behind him to hold at Dorian's waist, keep him close.

"Maybe," Dorian agreed, the sound muffled against his shoulder. "Need some help?"

Gentle, Klaus let his maimed hand caress against Dorian's skin, trying to soothe. "If you would?" The request was complied with, hands lightly tugging at belt, loosening pants, pushing them away, pulling the black shirt off, as well. The stains of the night's work were on both of them, but Dorian didn't look -- he only stayed close to Klaus and pretended that they weren't there, that no such marks marred them. Shoes were kicked off with a little work, and though Dorian perhaps hindered more than he helped, Klaus was afraid to break the contact. "It's all right, Dorian... we're fine."

"All right," Dorian agreed, face pressed to Klaus's shoulder, muffling his words. "All right..."

"Hmn, come on," Klaus goaded softly as he stepped under the shower's spray, taking Dorian with him. "Move... move around front?"

Directions were easy enough to follow; the blond thief slipped around him between body and shower wall and wound up in Klaus's arms, his head on the other man's shoulders, his own arms wrapped tightly about Klaus's waist. He couldn't think, *wouldn't* think... "Oh, God..."

Wet Dorian, curled shuddering into his grasp, uttering softly... "Calm down -- we're okay, you're okay, nothing will happen to us."

"Is it always like that?" Dorian asked, holding onto him tightly.. "Killing someone?"

A hand slipped into damped down golden curls, trying to work the water better through Dorian's thick hair. "Sometimes it's worse. You'll never do it again, though."

A broken little sound, partially laughter, came from the British thief. "Oh, Klaus. I'm so sorry to be such a horrid coward!"

"You're not a coward, Dorian." Gentle touch tried to go with the words, two fingers moving as well as five could through thick strands. "You're no coward for not having bloodlust in you."

Silently, Dorian clung to him, face pressed wetly to Klaus's throat, unable to bear letting go of him. /I'm so sorry,/ he thought, closing his eyes tightly. /My Klaus. My beautiful Klaus. I.../ Oh, he couldn't *think*, couldn't even do anything but tremble there against him, letting loose a slow sigh.

"We both... need to calm down," Klaus told him, letting his hand slip down to run along Dorian's back. The water they were standing beneath ran along the line of Dorian's spine, tumbling over Klaus's fingers. "I love you. I shouldn't have... made you do that with me."

"Had to go with you," Dorian murmured, sighing softly. "Had to. Had to do it. Didn't want to. Had to..."

"I'm sorry." He'd thought... and forgotten that Dorian would go along with something he suggested simply because he wanted it -- Dorian didn't seem to need to want it to do it with Klaus. That was worrisome, yet not worth too much thought.

"Not your fault," he was informed, Dorian's hands shifting to rub lightly at his waist. "I could have said no, but..." But he couldn't have let Klaus go alone!

"Dorian... Dorian, it's over. We're... running in circles again," he tacked on, trying for a soft laugh as he let his hands roam over Dorian's skin with less of a nervous sort of gesturing to them.

That lovely scarred face lifted from his shoulder, looking directly at him. "You're... right. You're right. I'll stop. Kiss me, Klaus." Kisses were a sure way to forget anything that ailed one, he was fairly certain!

"And then we'll wash?" Klaus sounded *almost* exasperated, even as he shifted minutely, not caring how wet his face and lips got before they made contact with Dorian again. "Hmnm."

For a moment, it felt almost desperate, but then the kisses gentled, Dorian sighing with the pleasure of them, hands letting go of their desperate grasp. "Now," he murmured huskily. "Now we can wash."

"Then we'll go into the living room... And I'm sure you've clothes here." Or Klaus could loan him a pair of sweatpants. Despite the fact that they were alone in the apartment, with no one who would disturb them, the fact remained that Klaus didn't like the possibility of someone other than Dorian seeing him nude. So it was restricted to the bath and bedroom. Otherwise, comfortable clothes were almost required.

"All right," Dorian agreed solemnly, reaching for the soap. It smelled of Klaus, all sharp and delicious, almost like oranges and yet certainly a *manly* scent. It made him feel a little better, too, as he soaped his own hands to get the blood stains off, thinking of washing Klaus once he was done getting the terrible sanguine blemishes off of his own skin.

For the moment Klaus, who still bore the red smears on his chest, the red spread marks on his arms, dried and thick on his hands, was content to just keep his hands on Dorian. "Need help?"

"Hm-mm." Sometimes, they communicated that way, in soft sounds, barely spoken, almost hummed. No, Dorian didn't need any help, and once his own arms were clean, he went to work slowly on Klaus's, cleaning away blood as if it was anything *but* that, silently washing away the stains of what they'd done. If only he could wipe it from his mind as easily....

Of course it wouldn't bother Klaus at all, really -- though Klaus was sympathetic, he sadly only vaguely remembered how it had felt, how badly shaken he'd been the first time he'd taken a life. He stayed still while Dorian washed him, yet when the soaped hands spread to his chest, he leaned in once more to take another soft kiss. Tenderly, he started to try to explore Dorian's lips, breaking it and starting it again in a most distracting and teasing way, the water only making the meld shorter and slicker.

"Darling," Dorian breathed, the kisses distracting him, taking his mind off of things and making him smile. "You're stealing my attention."

"Good -- kept it here. On us. Pay attention to now, to this..." And not to what they'd done, not to what had been. That was falling into a rut, a circle of thought, and Klaus kept it in the fore of his mind at all times how dangerous that was for them to do. "You're beautiful. My Dorian."

"Yours," Dorian agreed, melting for him, soapy hands moving now more in caresses than cleaning swipes. It felt good just to touch Klaus, to be close to him, and to receive those drugging kisses. "Always yours. Only yours, ever..."

Klaus wasn't sure that he could ever get enough of Dorian touching him, against him; so he more than just gave in to the thief, trusting in the water's pressure to remove the rest of the marks from him. "Need you, I'm so glad he didn't hurt you before I got there...."

"I was praying for you to come," Dorian murmured against his lips, giving into him beautifully. "I knew you would come, but I was so desperately *afraid*..."

"It didn't... go perfectly right, but it could have been much worse. Considering the risks, we did very well," Klaus praised Dorian gently, letting his kisses trail to Dorian's cheek, and then back to his lips. "We work well together."

"Knew we would," Dorian sighed, shivering slightly, nuzzling at him. Klaus made it so easy to just not think about things... "Knew we'd be perfect together..."

"We were good when we were at odds... better now that we're not trying to turn each other in to the KGB or Interpol," Klaus drawled, pushing Dorian back just a little so that he was under the brunt of the spray, to rinse soap from his body first. "Tilt your head back." Obediently, Dorian allowed his head to drop back, his eyes falling closed. It was Klaus's turn, now, to touch and caress, hands moving gently through Dorian's hair, over his arms, back and shoulders, lingering down to his hips. All the suds were swept off, the marks of blood left were rubbed gone, the smears from Klaus's own hands removed. "You look like a water fairy," he mused quietly.

Blue eyes drifted open slowly, warmth and excitement in them -- an inevitability any time that Klaus touched him, a response he'd given to the other man for as long as he could remember. "And you, Poseidon?" he asked, mouth twitching slightly. "You'd make a beautiful sea god, my Klaus..." Oh, how lovely that would be painted, and how he wanted to see it!

"Poseidon, seduced by a water fairy?" Klaus asked, finally managing a real, relaxed smile as he moved back under the brunt of the spray to kiss Dorian. "At least you didn't go for the cliche of Mars."

"It'd be too obvious," Dorian sighed, feeling Klaus's lips slide down to his throat. "Mmmmmm, 's nice when you do that. I like it..."

"You like anything," Klaus reminded in a gentle tease. Anything as long as it felt good, as long as it was Klaus, as long as it was gentle and thrilling to his body. He let his mouth trace the wet, soap-tasting flesh of Dorian's neck, over familiar cords of muscles as he bent a little more to slip just a little further down.

"Oh, yes..." Dorian sighed, fingers coming up to work their way into water heavy black strands, tugging lightly at the German man as he found the warm perked flesh of his nipples, teasing at them. "Oh, Klaus..."

Hard little nubs that he rubbed gently at with one hand, trying to get more of those sounds from Dorian's throat while he finally decided to take one into his mouth. Making love in a shower... would rather solve problems of cleaning up, wouldn't it? "Do you... want?"

"Always... always when it's you," Dorian sighed, back arching slightly so that Klaus could get to him more easily, his balance kept easily enough. "Yes..."

"Decadent demon," he murmured in a warm tease, chuckling a little to himself as he shifted down to his knees to kiss Dorian's flat belly. New, odd position for him to try it, yet it was one that his... reading, and overhearing conversations told him was 'traditional'. It seemed right to offer Dorian that relief before they retreated to rest for the day.

The sound of his name was thick on Dorian's lips, trembling hands stroking his face as water cascaded down it, fingers tracing over his cheeks. "You don't have to, you know," Dorian murmured, gaze distinctly wistful.

"I know. Want to," he clarified, as if Dorian hadn't needed to hear anything else from him. He wanted to, and that was that, wasn't it? "You feel good." Warm and strong and alive, all for him, for the both of them together... His left hand grasped Dorian's hip gently, while his right hand slipped down a bit lower to grasp the base of Dorian's cock.

"Yes..." Dorian whispered, eyes closing slowly. Ohh, to have Klaus do *that*, to feel Klaus *there*... it was so *good* when he did it! He'd done it once when they were in the Americas, once on the ship, and now.. Now...

It would be a long time, they both knew, before Klaus would become casually comfortable with such an action; yet until then, he reached for the limits of what he was comfortable with, aiming for Dorian's wants and needs more than his own. A slight difference of perspective that let him bend his head, holding Dorian's hips still as he let his lips close over the flared head of Dorian's cock.

"A...ahhh..." It was an almost broken sound, the way that it trembled out, his thief's hands closing tightly on his shoulders, an attempt to hold himself up as Klaus suckled tightly at that sensitive tip. "Ahh..."

The earl was always clean, so the taste was something Klaus couldn't ever mind. Salty, a tang to his tongue as he sucked and slid his tongue around the head that he held carefully between his lips. Every so often, he'd take in a little more, sliding down further but not ceasing in his ministrations. When Dorian came, he'd try to keep more this time, try to last a little longer...

Ceaseless caresses spilled over him, fingers trailing his shoulders, stroking over the length of his dark hair. The noises that Dorian gave were sounds of desire, of love, of adoration, the quiet clamor of enjoyment, and that alone was enough for Klaus's satisfaction. There was nothing better than knowing that Dorian was enjoying something, that he was doing something wonderful to his exquisite blond thief. It was enjoyable payback for the pleasures that were so often offered to him. To give Dorian pleasure as close as he could to the heated clench of a body around him, one he couldn't provide from sheer over-sensitivity, was very satisfying. This time, Klaus lowered his head down nearly to the base of Dorian's cock, and then swallowed.

"HAAAAHH!!!" The yell reverberated back from the tiles and Dorian came, unable to help himself. It felt so fucking *GOOD* that he simply didn't have the wherewithal to keep from exploding down Klaus's throat, sobbing with the intensity of it. "UNH!"

This time, Klaus didn't have a choice in the matter, to swallow or not -- Dorian was too deep in, and he just kept swallowing to avoid choking. And when the earl was done, he pulled back a bit fast, coughing minutely. "'s good?" It had been or at least seemed awful fast!

"So..." Dorian panted, shaking his head so that droplets flew. "So, so, *SO* so good," he moaned a little, still shivering from the effects of it.

"Think we're done in here," Klaus said hazily, moving back a bit and still swallowing to clear the taste from his mouth, as he stood up, hand offered to Dorian. The blond man took it, stepping out onto the bath mat and watching Klaus turn off the water. There was still evidence of Klaus's own erection and he smiled slightly, leaning to kiss him tenderly once he stood. "Hmn?" Klaus paused in his motions for a moment, even though he'd just been about to reach for a towel to dry off. Or three, since he felt as waterlogged as Dorian's hands looked. Like raisins!

"Want me to take care of you?" Dorian whispered, kissing him again, hand lightly brushing over his belly.

He felt a shiver pass through Klaus at that though, then the German nodded slowly. "Ja, please..."

"How?" Dorian asked him, almost humming. "D'you want..." Want to lay together, want to be buried deep in warmth, held close and tight so that there would be nothing in the world but two heated bodies pressed tightly together...

"A.... anything," he decided -- or rather, vocally didn't decide -- at last.

The smile Dorian gave him was almost sly, towels coming into play as he began to dry Klaus's skin, his hair, whispering quietly as he did so. "I want you. I want to be in your arms and feel you close and stay that way for always, Klaus. I want to feel nothing more wonderful than the pleasures of your touch, infinite, sweet..."

"You're spouting poetry," Klaus said with no little amount of happiness in his voice to hear that sort of thing from Dorian again. "Ah, so... bed instead of the sofa...? You're feeling better...?"

"How can I help but feel better when you love me?" Dorian told him, giving him a smile edged with sorrow. "You make everything better, Klaus, and I *need* you..."

Sliding an arm around Dorian's waist, to draw him close again, Klaus whispered, "I need you, too." That made him wet again, but Dorian only kept wiping, now at both of them.

"Always," he murmured. "Always."

Softly, he kissed Dorian's forehead and the curls there. /So good -- so perfect. Just, always just what I need to have.../ "Whatever you want, Dorian."

"You," Dorian almost purred, working to dry them both off quickly, efficiently, the friction feeling good on his own skin and taking his mind off of... things. "I want you. Let's go to bed, Klaus..."

"Ja," Another kiss taken, or given, whichever it was, and Klaus started to lead his still damp lover towards his bedroom. "And not leave it until tomorrow morning."

"That sounds perfect," Dorian sighed, leaving towels and clothing scattered over the floor, not caring a whit about them. He was getting hard again, a fact that should've been a surprise to him, he supposed; after all, he wasn't a teenager anymore! Klaus had that affect on him, though. He always had.

And Dorian was the only person to have an effect on Klaus -- so they were even. "The... bed isn't as big as yours," Klaus apologized, even as he opened the bedroom door.

"Doesn't matter," Dorian murmured, slipping his hand into Klaus's as they moved into the bed chamber. "It just means that we can sleep closer together, darling..."

It proved to be a full-size, which meant that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, yet it was exactly as comfortable as the one in Dorian's apartment. The room was fairly barren, yet it had been Klaus's haven from the Schloss when he had little time to spare or to simply get away...

In retrospect, what had once been fine for him would have been unbearable then, if it weren't for Dorian. "You're spoiling me for comfort. And sleeping with you is the highest possible..."

"I want to spoil you for the rest of our lives," Dorian told him, settling lightly on the edge of the bed and looking at him, that delicious sidelong glance that he'd seen so often over the years. He now realized that little glance made him want to take Dorian and make him entirely his, and it always had. It was odd to realize it after so many years.

The rush of adrenaline was the same, the same urge to *move*, to give all his attention to Dorian... only now he recognized the other part, the part of him that had gotten infuriated so easily before and now *knew* what to do with that rush, those urges. "Under the sheets," Klaus said in a gentle husk. "And... ich... I don't know what we can use for... lubricant..."

That made Dorian pause for a moment; lubricant was DEFINITELY a necessity! Once, he might have tried saliva, but... He gave a little shudder. Not NOW. "D'you have any lotion or something slick like oil?" he asked, sliding beneath the covers as directed.

"L... I have lotion," Klaus said, turning to head back to the bathroom, towel still cinched tightly around his waist, He returned not a minute later, with a bottle of hand lotion, fragrance free.

"That'll be fine," Dorian murmured, arms reaching out for Klaus. The bottle was put on the nightstand, and then Klaus let the towel fall to the floor; after so long in the bathroom and under hot water, the bedroom felt chill, but no longer. Now, sliding under crisp cool sheets, he found heat again -- in pressing close to Dorian. "You feel so good against me," Dorian sighed, a hand stroking slowly up Klaus's side. "You make me feel as if nothing in the world is wrong. I love you so, Klaus. I'd do anything for you. Please..."

"What you want," Klaus said firmly, shivering at the intensity of warm, still slight damp hand sliding up his side. "Here, now.... 's nothing wrong in our world. Nothing -- 's just us."

"I want to be yours," he sighed, shifting so that his lips were pressed to Klaus's, their legs entangled, his returning erection becoming heavy again with need.

It only took a shift, slight, to brush heavy erection to heavy erection again, wringing a tense groan from Klaus. "Oh, god... ahhhh, Dorian!"

"'s good?" Dorian murmured, closing his eyes, rocking slowly against the other man's groin. "You like it...?"

"Ja... 's good. 's very good, Dorian... need to..." he tried to get more of the sweet friction, hands moving to Dorian's hips to pull them closer.

"Tell me... what you need..." The murmur was husky and sweet, lips stealing away the groan that fell from Klaus's mouth as Dorian wrapped himself around the other man, moving strongly to please his lover. "Mmmm..."

"Need you... need you on me, need to feel you, Dorian, anything you'll give me, I need," Klaus sighed in a shiver of breath as he arches his hips against Dorian's. A hand shifted, clasping the root of his erection and tugging, dragging another of those groans from him.

"D'you want in me?" Dorian asked him, kissing him hard. "'s that what you want?"

"Yes -- fuck, I want to be inside of you." Raggedly husked out words as he moved one hand from Dorian's hip to the nightstand to grab the lotion he'd brought in. The steady slow roll of the thief's pelvis said much, a welcome invitation that was distracting even as he fumbled to get the lid open on the thing.

"Yes," Dorian murmured, a deep, dark rumble that promised purest pleasure. "Yes, yes, yes, Klaus, I want you..."

"I can't see... how it ever feels good for you," Klaus murmured, leaning to kiss his companion as he finally got some of the slick stuff onto his hands, stroking both their cocks for just a moment.

With a little gasp, Dorian arched up, eyes closing as he panted a little. It felt so fucking *GOOD*! "Just does!" he groaned. "'S one of those things feels different for me than you. So good..." The last was nearly cooed, the entirety of his body arching upward with want.

"If you like it," Klaus murmured, voice tense with restrained pleasure as he pressed his hips down against Dorian's with a leisurely pace and familiarity. Anything *but* that one thing was heaven to feel from Dorian... "I... I know I like doing this with you. It's perfect."

Petal-soft mouth stole his, caressing sweetly. "Want you," Dorian sighed. "Love you. Need you. Oh, my Klaus..."

"Shhh.... mmm, shh, I know," Klaus shivered, smiling against Dorian's familiar knowing lips. Every kiss felt golden, new and unexplored directions, minute difference that made all the world of sensation for them both. Carefully, Klaus shifted so that he knelt between Dorian's legs. Slicked fingers traveled from grasping onto Dorian's cock to his entrance, down to press in gently. "You're beautiful."

The way Dorian's lips parted, his head dropping back on the pillow so that golden curls shivered with his delight, only made him more so. The little sounds that sobbed loose were noises that delighted Klaus just as much as the tight clasp quivering around his fingers, as good as singing his thief's enjoyment.

"Tell me... you want this," Klaus purred softly, shaking and tense with need now... oh, but he could wait, to enjoy having Dorian so wanton, so beautiful, so very his and his alone.

"I want *you*," Dorian managed to get out, shuddering with the intensity of waiting for it. "I love you, I love you, *please*...!"

Two fingers curled carefully, rubbed lightly over the nub within Dorian. /You're wonderful, everything with you is perfect, I can do no wrong.../ "Soon, soon, we'll... soon."

Unable to help himself, Dorian cried out, arching upwards in search of more. It felt so utterly *delicious*, and he so desperately wanted to be held close and tight, impaled and held in Klaus's arms, mindless of anything more than the joy of being with the man who made him safe, made him loved, made him *complete* and capable of going on from day to day...

"Can you... are you ready?" Klaus asked in a low whisper, bent over the thief to kiss his lips. "I want you so badly."

"Please..." The sheer thrum of *need* in that rich voice would have sent almost anyone to their knees. "*PLEASE*, Klaus, please, I'm ready..."

"Shhh, shhh." Carefully, Klaus pulled his two fingers out of that tight clench. Then he shifted Dorian's legs so that one was around his waist, the other long leg draped gently over his shoulder. "I'm always afraid I'll hurt you if I'm not slow enough."

"No," Dorian almost sighed, rocking slightly with what could only be a barely restrained patience. "No, you feel so good to me, Klaus, always so careful, so wonderful..."

Klaus rubbed his hand over his aching cock, then shifted nearer to Dorian to press into that tight clench that was nearly calling to him. He loved that no longer was it dark and dirty mental images of that -- it was the real thing, far from disgusting, and so very loving. "Good, I could never handle hurting you..."

The sounds of Dorian whining softly spilled into his hearing, the muscle he had passed straining around him to hold him close as the tall blond's arms did the same, caressing slowly over shoulder and spine. "My Klaus," was the breathless whimper, the trembling feel of Dorian's lips pressed to him as well. "My Klaus, my Klaus, my Klaus..."

"Yours," Klaus agreed thickly, careful as always to hold himself deathly still at first. "Oh, so tight and warm, Dorian... perfect, you always feel, are..."

"For you," Dorian sighed, arching up to him and groaning, relaxing around him. "Just for you..."

Against Dorian's lips a shuddered sigh could be felt, soft and barely released. "Ohhh.... love you, need you, Dorian..." It was only once Dorian had moved that Klaus dared to, a slow shift backwards and then in again, stroking within the length of the heat that clasped him.

It gained him another of those delicious *noises*, the kind that he'd learned to love. They announced better than words Dorian's enjoyment, just as the arch of his body and the slight shudder of his breath singing from his lungs did the same. "Yes..." It was a drawn out sigh, Dorian's entire body stretching out wantonly for more. "Ye~es, yes, yes..."

Always so perfect, the few times they'd done it -- always worth savoring, taking slowly. Klaus didn't let his hips pound against Dorian's pelvis as he could have. Instead it was a slow, if barely controlled, and thorough fucking of his lover. Stilted rolls, and he let his hips twist every so often. "Feels so good," the German moaned, bending to meet Dorian's arched body and plant kisses along the column of his neck. It gained him more of those little sounds, and the slim man beneath him wrapped the entirety of himself up in Klaus, around him, clinging tightly.

"Love you," Dorian moaned, tossing his head so that those glorious curls tangled wildly. "Love you, love you, so close, sooooohhh, *Klaus!*"

The leg he'd put carefully over his shoulder had slipped down, and now clung around his waist as tightly as the first, Dorian's heels against the backs of his legs as he tilted the lean body up even more. He had his lover's lean form arched glorious for him, open and clutching him closer. "Yes, scheiss, *yes*...!" He wouldn't until the other had, first -- always sure to make sure Dorian was in pleasure *first*.

With an almost violent cry, Dorian fell over, spilling wildly between their bellies as Klaus pushed deep inside of him. So close to Klaus, so together, so utterly *inviolate*... "UNH!"

"Dor..." A shudder cut out his voice, hips snapping roughly against Dorian's a final time, and then again, as he spilled deep, so deep within the utterly desirable form that held him. "Ohhh, ohh, fuck... Dorian, Dorian, thank you..."

Sleepily, Dorian pressed close to him, holding him tight inside. "Mmmmmm, 's good," he sighed moments later. "Thank you, Klaus. I..." He paused, smiled slightly, pressed his lips to Klaus's cheek. "I feel better, a bit. You still love me. I knew you did, but I needed..."

"I love you, need you, no matter what -- sex or no, a-anything or not, I'll always need to love you, to have you for mine..." Desperation should have seeped into his words, if it hadn't been for that fact that Dorian was so thoroughly his. "Always, I'll always love you."

Arms wrapped slowly about his shoulders, legs coming down from tightly around his hips to tangle with his own. "Always," Dorian agreed quietly. "Everything will be all right, darling. It will be all right..."

"Wasn't I telling you that not long ago?" Klaus almost laughed, as he let himself slip free of Dorian's wonderful clutching heat, and laid beside him on the bed. Strong arms kept the blond close against him, wrapping him in their warmth and security.

"Mmm, yes, and you were right," Dorian told him, laughing softly. "And so am I."

A kiss, careful and lightly tender, brushed over his lips, trying to give touch and sensation without arousal to go with it. "Tired, much?"

"Mmm." It was a sound with no meaning, one that signified thought. "Not so much," Dorian murmured. "But some. Sleeping in a car is rarely sleeping and I... I was feeling too nervous to really rest, I suppose. Upset. Was the drive back so terrible?"

"It was long," Klaus sighed, "And tense. Crossing the border... had been a close call. You were still sleeping when border guards stopped the car and shined their torches into our windows."

Shifting to get comfortable in his arms, finding the perfect spot, Dorian nodded slowly. "We're all right, now. Tomorrow will be all right, too."

"I'm glad you're sure of it." A soft, forced laugh, and Klaus shook his head a little. "My furniture and books will probably packed into neat boxes that have been sitting on the lawn for months."

"Maybe they won't have been," Dorian offered quietly. "If they are, I'll buy you all new ones, Klaus..."

"It doesn't matter to me," Klaus murmured. "'s just things. I don't need things... I need... the family history more, my own name..."

"Shhhh. It will be all right." That was a promise, for Dorian would *make* it come out if he could. "It will..."

"I know... it *will* be all right. NATO and the other groups will take us seriously now... No matter why they say they kicked me out, we proved that we're both useful." Comfortably purred words, as Klaus turned his head to nuzzle at Dorian's cheek. "We... I almost didn't believe that we would be."

"Not any more, though," Dorian whispered, face moving so that his lips brushed Klaus's. "We're useful. We'll continue to be useful. And there's always this, and us..."

"Always, always us and this," Klaus agreed in a comfortable, mostly happy tone. Funny, how the horrors of those hours with Stasi had pushed them down this new, often frightening but utterly enjoyable path. He now had a companion, he had Dorian, he had a vague goal in life... The friction of lip to lip was slow, leisurely. "Want to lay here...?"

"Just like this," Dorian agreed in a slow drawl, nose rubbing lightly across a cheek. "We'll sleep a while, shower again and then..."

And then... go to Schloss Eberbach and see...

"Tomorrow."

"Have you ever been here before?" Klaus spoke without looking at Dorian, instead with his eyes trained on the road ahead of them. They'd slept for quite a while to make up for the tense drive back from East Germany, showered, watched a little TV and just talked. God, it was good to go back to the sort of routine that they'd fallen into when they'd been in America, that they hadn't been able to hold while research for their own personal 'mission' had taken over their lives.

"When we first met," Dorian reminded him with a little laugh. "A couple of other times, too, but no one knew I was there. Especially you..."

"You mean you snuck into my house *more* than that once?" Klaus asked, raising an eyebrow as he glimpsed over to the other man for just a moment.

"Well...." Dorian laughed, unable to stop it. "You know, Jamesie found all but the last hundred of the deutschmarks you tossed out of the plane and wanted to steal it from you so I came with him. I was afraid he'd get caught or hurt himself if I didn't! And I really am so terribly fond of your pumpkin pants ancestor..." he teased.

"You're not stealing it," Klaus warned him. "You don't have to, and I don't, still, see why you'd ever want that picture -- it's terrible."

"Because it's lovely and it looks like you, or you like it, perhaps. You're like art come to life, darling..." Dorian murmured.

"Was," Klaus murmured. "Maybe I looked like him at some point... though I don't mind that I don't anymore."

Leaning over, Dorian pressed his mouth to a high cheekbone, fingers caressing the opposite jaw. "You're beautiful to *me*, darling. Always will be," he declared, and though it was perhaps extravagant, it was also *very* true.

"Dorian... please, not while I'm driving. If I kiss you right now, like I want to, we'll end up going off the road," Klaus drawled, smiling just a little as he strained to keep his attention on the road.

That gained him husky laughter, the press of lips against his ear before Dorian withdrew. "When we stop, then," he nearly purred, laying his head on Klaus's shoulder.

"You're a complete distraction." Just a statement -- not a complaint. He *needed* Dorian to distract him, all the time, to make his life enjoyable... "That will certainly be relaxing before we enter the Schloss."

"It's all going to be fine," Dorian soothed him, a hand going to stroke his shoulder tenderly. "I promise you, Klaus. I promise..."

They were nearer now -- he could *see* the Schloss and its grounds now, and he hadn't been able to before. /Not long now, and I'll know for sure.../ "Even if it isn't, everything will work out."

"Yes," Dorian answered him simply. "It will."

The hand on his shoulder was a comfort, Dorian so very close to him in the silence as he finally pulled his Benz into the drive. If anything, he was going to be in trouble to begin with -- for having been away from home for so long... "Better be prepared to get right back in the car," he murmured absently as he stopped the car in front of the main steps of the schloss.

Dorian nodded, a sidelong glance saying much. "Whatever the case, you know I won't let *anyone* abuse you," he stated outright, frowning slightly. "I can't, even if it's just yelling. I'll be ready to leave if you say the word."

"I'm not in a mood to get yelled at today," Klaus assured Dorian gently as he opened the car door and stood smoothly. No suit today -- just denim pants and a clean white shirt. His butler would probably die of shock.

"D'you suppose your father's actually here?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he slid out on Klaus's side, standing tall beside the other man.

"I've been gone for so long that he's probably had to come up here to manage the estate," Klaus murmured with a slight shrug before he started up the steps.

Dorian nodded, shutting the car door and following behind him, hands slipping into his pockets as he did so. "Well, darling, I don't see any of your belongings on the front lawn so perhaps that's a good sign..."

"Maybe they sold them," Klaus suggested with dark almost-mirth in his voice.

"Or sent them to the local church as charity?" Dorian muttered just as the door came open before Klaus could so much as knock or reach for the handle to open it himself.

"SIR!" the butler cried, looking almost tearfully pleased to see him. "You're home!"

/Have the Soviets replaced him?/ Klaus wondered, one eyebrow arching as he looked at his butler. "Ja... Ja, I'm home. Are you all right?"

"Your father is here," the man replied. "He's been Very Worried, if I may say so!"

Now both eyebrows came down as one. "Ja? And who the fuck replaced him with a dummy? Tell me right now if you're being puppeted by the Soviets!" he demanded loudly.

"Klaus," Dorian said sweetly, "maybe he's just worried about you..."

"We've ALL been worried about you!" Dominic chided, sniffling, tugging a handkerchief from his pocket. "You just ran off, and such terrible reports were coming in!" He sniffled again, scrubbing at his eyes.

"This is surreal," Klaus muttered, glancing at Dorian. "Stop whimpering -- you're not supposed to do that," the butler was chided as Klaus stepped back him and into the front hall, ready for an ambush.

"Your father's in the study, sir." Dominic sniffled once more as Dorian patted him on the back.

"There, there, man. He's home. It's all right," the tall blond murmured.

"Dorian, have you ever read the Bible story of the prodigal son...?" Klaus asked, as he started, still cautious, down the hallway. "That sort of strange shit just doesn't happen in reality."

One last pat of the butler's shoulder and Dorian followed Klaus down the way. "Well, darling, but you never know, truly you don't. Perhaps they HAVE missed you. It isn't unheard of; *I'd* miss you, after all..."

"That's because you love me without question," Klaus said, quoting Dorian's general sentiment towards him. "Missed me... I barely ever talked to them. Dominic missing me... I can understand. Almost."

"Perhaps..." Dorian said, biting his lower lip momentarily. "Still. Filial affection can't be denied, you know. It's there, even if you don't speak. Father and I didn't speak for quite some time when I was younger. He sent me off to Eton, and then to Oxford, and we really didn't even see each other for a while, and then he died. Still, he'd be most happy to see me if he were alive, and happier to see you..."

"There's a difference between not talking out of ... just not talking, and not talking out of anger, and dislike," Klaus murmured, grasping Dorian's hand on a whim. "We might as well get everything over with at *once*... His study is just down the hall here."

Fingers squeezed his own carefully as they continued down the hallway, pausing only to knock at the door. "Enter," came a firm voice from behind that dark wooden portal, and Klaus reached out to turn the knob.

He swung it inward slowly, cautiously -- there was always the possibility of an attack, even in this 'sanctuary' that he called home. There were not Soviets waiting to jump him, so he stepped into the room that was lined with bookshelves and lit with the morning sun, holding Dorian's hand. /What a way to present yourself.../ "Father."

An older man who looked most remarkably like Klaus sat behind a large and beautiful antique mahogany desk, one that made Dorian want to sigh. His fingers steepled slowly, face betraying no shock as they came into the room, words not damning them immediately. "Have a seat, Klaus... and this, I presume, is Dorian Red Gloria, the Earl of Gloria and famed art thief Eroica?"

"Charmed," Dorian murmured, a bit shocked.

"Of course," the elder Eberbach replied.

No explosion of temper...? Then that spoke of a slow building to the older man's point, then... Klaus moved to sit down, but only after he set down a chair for Dorian, too. "How are you doing, father?"

"Well, considering that my son abandoned his homeland to go to America to recover from his injuries rather than coming home to me," he was informed. "And how are you?"

"Better, now." Klaus didn't dare move his eyes from the old man's face, for fear that he was someone else wearing a mask -- though the bitter opening reply *sounded* like him! "I needed to get away."

"From Germany?" he was questioned, as if that seemed impossible.

"From everything," Dorian murmured, answering before Klaus could do so. "You seem to know a great deal, sir."

Pausing, the older man reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking the time to light one slowly, drawing in a lungful of smoke and releasing it before speaking again, a simple enough reply. "Yes."

The storm, then, was coming. "You read the report on why I was discharged, then. What did you think of it?"

Another calm draw on the cigarette, making Klaus and Dorian both wish for one. "That it was a crock of shit," his father bit out, shocking him.

Grey-green eyes, one a slightly *off* shade from the other, were wide as Klaus looked at his father. That off shaded one never quite tracked as well as his real eye, so it drifted a little as Klaus blinked a few times, trying to make sure he hadn't hallucinated that. "I was expecting a diatribe about being a failure, father."

The man leaned back in his chair, still smoking slowly. "You did your best, did you not? I have heard a tale of several Stasi hits, bad orders, and two men who did the very best that could be done, who survived. I have heard more. I... would not think you were a failure for doing your best, Klaus."

Klaus looked away for a bare moment, if that. "We did our best... it just wasn't enough. When we were in America, I kept waiting for a letter or... something. A restraining order. A notice of disownment."

Silently, Dorian watched as the older man sighed. "You are my only child, Klaus," he noted quietly. "That would be cutting off my nose to spite my face, as they say."

"I haven't been much of an asset to you for an heir... and I won't be one," Klaus murmured, giving Dorian a significant glance.

Crushing out the cigarette, his father sat forward, expression grim. "Do you take me for a complete idiot? This I have known since you were fourteen!"

"What?!" Klaus's nerves, set on edge with anticipation, hadn't been prepared for the completely opposite reaction. "Why the *fuck* didn't you tell me?!"

"Do you think you would have thanked me to hear such a thing? *I* thought you would be more grateful never to know, to simply live your life as it was without knowing. I did not know, however, about *him*," he was informed with a gesture to Dorian.

"Me?" the thief asked, uncomfortable momentarily.

"YOU," the elder Eberbach replied.

"What *about* him?" Klaus asked dryly.

"Why don't you tell me," his father responded with identical tone.

"... starting from what point? The point where he started to stalk after me through missions, or the point where I realized I... can't live without him?" There, he'd said it *aloud*, in the presence of someone other than Dorian.

THAT obviously made the older man wish that he hadn't put out his cigarette as he leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Are you happy, then?" he asked, frowning.

"Ja, now." More than he could remember being in his life, and content, after all of those horrors... "Very much so."

Another sigh. "Then that, I suppose, is enough. You realize that you need an heir, Klaus."

/So do I!/ Dorian wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. He decided that Klaus could just take care of the matter, and that was quite all there was to it!

"What do you want to know?" Klaus asked his father, after the beat of silence had fallen.

"I suppose I am curious as to what you plan to do about that situation. No more. Perhaps you would like to consider the matter. Dinner is at seven, as usual." That was as good as dismissal, and a strange end to an even more bizarre meeting.

"What situation...?" Klaus asked as he stood up.

"I am assuming that there was no injury to your brain, Klaus," his father said wryly, bluntly. "Heir? Those things known as small children who run about on plump little legs and drive you mad, but are required for the furtherance of one's family?"

"Father... I hate to say as much, but I really doubt that I have... the patience, the..." he trailed off, trying to find a better angle of approach for the conversation. "I'll explain why I doubt it's likelihood at dinner?"

"It is a necessity," his father reminded him, going back to the newspaper that was on his desk. "Gather your thoughts, of course, but keep that in mind, Klaus."

Dorian raised an eyebrow, shrugged at Klaus. Necessity? /Thank goodness I have sisters.../ At the least, there was SOMEONE who might continue being the Earl of Gloria if he died without issue, or rather *when*.

Klaus grasped Dorian's hand in his maimed right one, and led the way to the door. "We'll get our bags... Go up to my room, I suppose."

"Seven," his father reminded as they moved out of the study.

"Well," Dorian muttered. "That certainly didn't go as I expected, or you expected, for that matter..."

"I think we've just entered a bad American horror movie, na?" Klaus suggested as he turned down the hall again. "That was almost wrong."

Dominic was still sniffling into his handkerchief in the hallway as they passed. "Klaus, are you QUITE sure they were normal to start? Perhaps they've always...er, been this way, and you simply never NOTICED..."

"That's normal for the butler," Klaus uttered as they passed him. "Not... not normal for my father."

"Maybe there was some foreign substance in his cigarettes," Dorian mumbled under his breath.

An amused sound left his lover. "Maybe we shocked him senseless...?"

"Maybe," Dorian replied, "he was expecting it."

"He could have saved me so much grief if he'd told me he knew," Klaus sighed. "Fourteen...? *I* don't know how he'd know..."

Dorian reached over, patted his hand as they headed out to the car. "Fathers are often magic that way. Besides, would you've believed him if he'd told you, Klaus? I shouldn't think that you would've..."

"No, but he's always been drilling into me that I should find a woman and marry..." Klaus shook his head as he opened the front doors again and led Dorian out. "Christ, today is going nothing like I'd thought it would."

"Well, he *STILL* wants to know where you're getting an heir, Klaus. He's rather going to bother you about THAT one..." Dorian murmured.

"There won't be an heir," Klaus told Dorian, knowing he had to come up with a way to tell his father that same thing. Ah, but how, how to *explain* that they weren't as... stable, really, as they could act.

Dorian nodded as they stopped beside the car. "I hadn't doubted, Klaus, only sometimes it's difficult to tell one's parents just what they don't wish to hear..." Well, perhaps it was if one had a parent like Klaus's. His mother had been easy to tell when he'd decided he'd rather stay with his father and be a homosexual thief... but perhaps that was because he *had* both parents, and Klaus had only his father and no mother...

"You have any suggestions on how to tell him?" Klaus asked openly enough as he unlocked the trunk of the Benz.

"'Gee, Daddums, I'm rather afraid children are simply right out of the picture because I'm as queer as any local fairy you might've ever met'?" Dorian answered with a chuckle. "Really, I can't imagine. Perhaps we should just tell him outright that we aren't... you know. Aren't secure enough for that, you or me. Might never be. Or perhaps simply tell him that we aren't for now and will see about it later, or think about it. You are not, however," he was informed firmly, "doing THAT with one of THOSE creatures, no matter how badly your father might like grandchildren!"

"I, however, could not stand doing that with one of *those*," Klaus chuckled mirthlessly as he swung his own one bag free of the trunk. "I need a smoke -- so you have to kiss me, before I have to knock out the false bottom of this case and get my spare pack."

Without so much as a single thought to the contrary, Dorian flung his arms about Klaus's neck and *did* kiss him, a delicious thing that tasted slightly of the bacon they'd eaten for breakfast and apple jelly and Dorian, a sweet, tangy sort of taste that made him shiver with need for the other man. "Mmmm.... 's that better?" Dorian husked as he shifted away for a moment.

"Ja... if dinner wasn't at seven, I think I'd go to bed right now," Klaus breathed in a rough purr, as he leaned nearer again to take another, slower and deeper seeking kiss. The mix of flavors alone was good, then add to it that it was Dorian's lips, so warm and wanton for him!

"So let's go to bed for just a little while," Dorian whispered once they parted, lips deeply colored by the force of Klaus's against them.

"We did that all day yesterday," Klaus reminded, "and I'd like to show you around, some."

"Show me everything," he was told, Dorian taking his own case out of the boot and smiling up at him. "Show me what you love about this place, Klaus."

"It'll take most of the day, then... and after a few days here, we'll go to the North Downs...?"

THAT gained him an utterly brilliant smile, the case in the blond man's hands dropping to their feet as Dorian wrapped himself around Klaus to kiss him again, this time with a sense of utter adoration. "I love you, Klaus," he whispered, and then laughed.

"Mm, I know," Klaus murmured. "And at the rate you're going today... I'm going to get enough kisses to make up for missed cigarettes. And I know you want to go back to England."

"A little," Dorian admitted. "I want to show you the things I love and oversleep with you as Jamesie lectures at us to get up and badgers me about household accounts..."

"He's getting as bad about house mothering as Bonham," Klaus teased Dorian. "Your men... are very loyal. Trustworthy. I'm glad they wanted to help me and you."

"They love me," Dorian told him solemnly. "They want me to be happy. They want me to be well. Even Jamesie can't object to you making me happy. Not..." Not now, he wanted to say.

"He seemed about to, at first," Klaus murmured softly, giving a shrug. "But, I'm glad he... turned around."

Dorian's shoulders lifted as well, bringing a definite sparkle to his eyes, a tilt to his lips. "Well, you know Jamesie..."

"I do. Let's drag our bags in, hmn? Before father sees us kissing out here. He might be freakishly calm, but that would undo it, I am sure," Klaus observed sagely.

"Especially if he managed to catch my tongue in your mouth," Dorian whispered as the front door came open, Klaus's father stepping outside.

"Klaus," he called.

"Ja...?" Well, it wasn't supper time yet! Bag in hand, Klaus started towards his father and the front door.

"Stop kissing that man and show him the gardens!" his father told him sharply before turning to go back into the house and shutting the door behind him.

"And perhaps someday you'll rate something better than 'that man'," Klaus murmured as he stopped on the steps and turned back to Dorian. "I'll show you my room, and we can unpack."

"Marvelous, darling," Dorian laughed quietly, shaking his head. "Better 'that man' than 'that fucking faggot' or something!"

Once Dorian was at the stop of the stairs with him, Klaus grasped his hand and opened the front door again with the side of his arm this time, since both hands were occupied. "I'm up almost in the tower..."

Blue eyes sparkled as Dorian walked inside with him. "The view's spectacular, I'm sure. Your land is almost as lovely as *mine*..."

"And I would have to say the same -- England, lands of fog, rain, and badly paved narrow roads." A soft chuckle, as he veered Dorian towards the stairs. "Na? We're nationalistic."

That only gained him laughter, a delicious feeling for Klaus, indeed. "Most definitely so," Dorian chuckled, laying his head on Klaus's shoulder before they started up the stairs. "But lovely, winding, *rustic* narrow roads," he teased.

"Rustic... is that what you call decrepit? I'll remember that if you ever call *me* rustic!" Good natured, happy teasing -- the affront Klaus acted was pretend, and it was a wonderful thing to after so long, still, to have someone he could be so at ease with.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling," Dorian informed him airily before laughing once more. "Mmm, no, you aren't decrepit. You're beautiful, finely honed, and infinitely fu.."

"Not where anyone else can hear it, will you say that," Klaus murmured, giving Dorian's hand a tug towards him; the blond got a kiss on his mouth, just at the edge, for his trouble, though.

"Who'd hear me?" Dorian teased, smiling brilliantly.

"Dominic? My *father*. Who would probably be very unhappy to hear that..."

"At least he'd know I like you very much..." his lover replied, a decidedly naughty smile upon his face.

"I think it's rude to give any parent proof that you're sleeping with someone. It's more tactful this way," Klaus murmured.

A thoughtful silence passed momentarily. "Well," Dorian finally said, "perhaps with ordinary parents! My father would've asked if you were any *good*..."

"He'd *what*?" Klaus asked in loud shock. "No! No, you're teasing me again!"

"Dead serious," the thief said, shaking his head. "He was gay, too. He'd 've asked and laughed when he did!"

"You could ask father what he'd say..." Klaus chuckled. "Lucky you."

Blond brows rose up, a consternated expression crossing Dorian's face. "Darling, your father'd probably plant me a facer if *I* asked him such a thing!"

"Plant you a facer?" Klaus blinked as they want up the next flight of stairs.

"Punch me silly," Dorian informed him almost primly.

"I wouldn't let him," Klaus drawled firmly. "Never. I think he's saner than that."

"You've done it before," came the teasing reply.

His hand was gently squeezed. "I'm sorry. I... haven't done it in a long time."

"Oh, Klaus..." They stopped there in the hall, the Briton's bag dropped, his arms going about Klaus's shoulders. "I love you. I'm only playing, and I never minded at all..."

"I know," Klaus smiled, embracing Dorian in turn. "I just... forget sometimes, that you've forgiven me."

"I'd forgive you if you blew up the world, you know," Dorian teased him, smiling.

"If I blew up the world...? Dorian, if I did that, there wouldn't be a *you* to be forgiving me!" A tap on the back of his shoulder got the thief to release him. "Come on -- only a bit higher now."

"Then you'll be a good boy and show me the gardens?" Dorian teased.

"We'd better not get caught kissing while out there," Klaus murmured in amusement as he bent to pick up Dorian's bag along with his own. No more held hands, but it would assure that they got upstairs!

"But the garden's a perfectly LOVELY place to be caught kissing!" Dorian protested with a little laugh. "A perfect choice for just such a thing, darling! Why else would he have suggested that you take me there?"

"To.... show you the well trimmed shrubs and flowers...?" One slim black eyebrow raised, and he turned his head to look at Dorian quizzically. "That'd be my guess."

"And not to kiss," Dorian murmured thoughtfully. "How remarkable!"

"Is that what your garden is for...?" Klaus teased him, as they reached the top landing and he started down the hall. "If it is, don't tell me that. I'd prefer a surprise."

His lover laughed, a sound that delighted him. "Oh, my garden's full of roses and lavender, meant for sitting and enjoying the scent of the things," he announced. "There are lots of little nooks with benches, that sort of thing!"

"Hmn, for what reasons do you have those benches?" Drawled lazily as he finally stopped before a rather nondescript door. /Home at last... but with Dorian here, it'll be a real home./

"For sitting," Dorian teased. "And enjoying..."

Black eyebrows crawled up high beneath Klaus's bangs, and he managed a small little smirk as he opened the door. "Enjoying, hmn? I've never actually looked in the back gardens for spots to.... enjoy."

The room behind that door was just as neat as his apartment, though it had much more by way of personality. Of course, it wouldn't take much to have more personality than *that*... "I'll bet there are plenty," Dorian nearly purred, slipping inside to look around. Books scattered a desk in the corner, little lead soldiers lined up on a table, the art of war present in that room. It would have made him shiver if it wasn't such a little boy sort of war.

Klaus probably hadn't redecorated in years, and showed no want to do so now. Why bother? He liked, occasionally, to look over his toy soldiers, and loved to read his books... /I've been away for too long,/ he mused to himself, glancing over to the bed. "You unpack, I'll put on fresh sheets?"

"Why don't we just dirty the first set properly?" Dorian asked with a little smirk, reaching to dig a finger against Klaus's ribs gently.

"You're horrible," Klaus accused without heat; he was right, too! "I'll get the new sheets out so I can put them on tomorrow morning, then."

"I'm horrible and you love me," Dorian corrected. "Take me out to see the garden. I don't want to unpack. I want to find a nice niche in which to kiss you!"

"Then don't complain to me tomorrow when your clothes are wrinkled." With that, Klaus tossed down his own suitcase, and moved towards the door again. "I'm glad we came here."

"*I'M* glad your father wasn't waiting to have an auto de fe," Dorian replied with a shiver as he joined the dark-haired German man. "From the sounds of it, I rather thought the Inquisition would've been kind compared to whatever we might've suffered from him..."

"Worse than the inquisition is what I always suffered when I dared to come home without a wife, when he was home." Dorian's hand was once more caught in a firm grasp, as Klaus started to drag him off down the hall.

"Perhaps he was *hoping*," Dorian noted as he moved along behind Klaus, the slight tug and pull on his hand entirely pleasant.

"I still can't see how he knew at fourteen what took me fucking *years* to figure out..." It was grumbling he knew, but Dorian was more than willing to listen to him grumble sometimes.

"Sometimes fathers just know things," his lover excused, shrugging. "Mine knew I'd be a marvelous thief, so he helped to show me how."

THAT struck Klaus as amusing, what it implied and what his own parallel situation would have been. "Father would definitely not want to teach me how to be a marvelous fag."

At that, Dorian smirked. "*MINE* did!"

He got his hand squeezed for his trouble. "If your father was so very gay, how did he manage to produce *you*?"

As they headed down the stairs, Dorian seemed to think about that question. "Oh... I have several older sisters. I suppose he felt a certain... hmmm, oh, a responsibility to the line, to bear a son. Once I was born, he stopped dealing with women at all, really, aside from Mother and... Well. Mother left him when she realized that it wasn't just father who was 'that way'..."

"She left him because you turned out gay? I'd think she'd leave him because he turned out that way..." Klaus shrugged, shaking his head as they lazily went down the stairs.

"Maybe it's only that it felt that way because I was a child," Dorian replied with a little sigh. "I DID feel a bit guilty. All right, very guilty. Father sold the castle at North Downs and we moved to Cornwall so he'd have enough money to support my mother and sisters in the style to which they were accustomed... He pretended that it didn't make him unhappy, but..."

"There's no way that such a thing could make one *not* unhappy." Though unhappy was a long-familiar thing to Klaus that before the... incident had would have had trouble imagining being so content for so very long.

"And then I got caught trying to steal Giorgione's Shepherd and he sent me away to school and..." Dorian shrugged as they reached the first floor. "Well. I suppose, in the end, he died alone. He never found anyone like you for himself, and I was at Oxford when he died..."

"That's very... sad," Klaus murmured, squeezing Dorian's hand tightly. "I can't imagine that happening to you."

Another shrug came in answer. "Me, either, darling, but then... I've got you." He'd known from the moment he'd seen Klaus that the other man *had* to be his!

"I believe that I'm the luckier one in this." Now they turned down the back hall, headed towards the terrace that would lead them to the gardens. Klaus was already searching through his mind for a niche of some sort in those gardens.

"One way or another," Dorian murmured, "I'd say we're both pretty lucky..." They had, after all, survived the Stasi, come to terms with themselves and what had happened to them, gotten revenge and, most importantly, fallen in love...

And that was what was, by far, the most outstanding and important to them both. "If I didn't have you, God knows what I'd do with my life..."

That, Dorian knew, was one of their ruts. "You do, though, darling," he noted, nuzzling at Klaus's shoulder as he opened the back door, letting them out into air scented with heavy fragrance.

"Ja." A soft laugh as he let go of Dorian's hand to slip his arm around the thief's waist. "What's your favorite flower?"

"Roses." It was a terribly PREDICTABLE answer, but it was very much the truth. "I adore them."

"Which color -- be specific, it's probably out here somewhere," Dorian was told, while Klaus gestured with his free hand, the maimed on, over the veritable *field* of neatly planted flowers and the paths between them.

"Red," he was informed in a murmur. "The color of passion and love. Orange is also very nice, but red is my favorite..."

"What shade?" Klaus asked, starting to drag Dorian down a sloping path that brought the high flowers to above eye level.

"Deep, dark, delicious," the thief laughed, looking at everything. He was particularly fond of the purple ones and wanted to stop just there, but Klaus was tugging at him and so he followed along, almost jogging to keep up with the long-legged stride. He was enjoying himself immensely!

"Deep, dark..." Klaus repeated it absently, taking another turn, a sharp one, and then stopping immediately before a single bush of roses of such a dark red that they could have been black in dimmer light. "These!"

With a little gasp, Dorian dropped down to look at them, cupping a bud carefully with one hand, avoiding the nasty-looking thorns that seemed quite determined to prick at him. "Ohhhhh, *Klaus*...."

"Here -- let me pick one for you," Klaus murmured, kneeling easily beside his lover, reaching his right hand near Dorian's nimble fingers.

The deepening of that aquamarine gaze was one with which he was entirely familiar, a wantonness that seemed to spread with that change of color overtaking Dorian as he plucked the stem carefully, popping off thorn after thorn without pricking his fingers. "Thank you," he was told, Dorian leaning forward and offering him his mouth.

It wasn't a fresh bud, but rather one that was just starting to open, that would slowly unfurl as its time passed. The exchange of beautiful rose from Klaus's hand to Dorian's was avoided, though, as Klaus took the kiss. A slow, luxurious thing as they both knelt there, and Klaus had a hand on Dorian's back to tug him minutely closer, other hand rising to tuck the de-thorned rose behind Dorian's ear.

Eyes closed, Dorian smiled, leaning to kiss Klaus again. "Thank you," he whispered again, lightly brushing his lips against the other man's, almost childish the way it simply skimmed across Klaus's mouth.

"You make me so happy... a fresh rose is the least I can give you," Klaus spoke softly against Dorian's tickling lips, unwilling to close his eyes and lose sight of the beautiful face that he didn't see the scars on.

"I always knew you were a romantic at heart," Dorian teased, arms wrapped about his neck, eyes still closed. He was more than happy, he was *content*, felt so wonderful, just to be in Klaus's arms... /Nothing can get better than today./

"It's your fault," was the equally teasing reply. "All yours..." The day couldn't get better, really -- the worry that had been weighing so heavily on Klaus's heart was just *gone* now!

"Here they are, sir!" came a call from down the way. "They're kissing next to the Taboo roses!!"

/Fucking hell.../ Now he was sure that his father's goal while they were there was to make sure they *didn't* get a moment alone once they started to kiss. He was going to get privacy if he had to install a dead bolt on his bedroom door that night! Slowly, he backed off of the gentle kiss, and looked up in the direction of the voice. "Hmn, figures."

"Come BACK, idiot! You aren't supposed to let them know we're keeping an eye on them!" Klaus's father bellowed.

Unable to help himself, Dorian laughed, wrapping his arms even more tightly about Klaus's shoulders. "This, you lived in *this*, and couldn't laugh at it?"

"It's easy enough to do so now," Klaus murmured, shifting back near to Dorian before he turned his head a little and called back, "Father! *Why* are you 'keeping an eye' on us?"

"He wants to be sure that the Earl is nice to you!" Dominic called.

"SHUT UP, IDIOT!"

"You're definitely related," Dorian muttered, stifling the sounds of his chuckles.

"How can you tell?" Klaus asked dryly, taking another kiss almost to *spite* watching eyes, a good long kiss. Maybe that would get them to stop watching. "Hmn, this rose fits you well."

"You think?" Dorian asked him huskily, kissing him again. Hmmm, Klaus's lips tasted so... "Why do you think that?" he questioned, drawing in a deep sigh as they parted.

"It's decadent. And beautiful." Nothing really poetic or fluid, but it was certainly tenderly uttered and sincere.

"Kiss me again," Dorian sighed, incredibly pleased with himself. "Maybe we can find a quiet nook where they can't peer in.."

"I don't see the sense of spying on us." Round-about agreement as he leaned near again and kissed Dorian properly.

"Maybe they just want to see how we 'do it'," Dorian whispered mischievously, stealing James's terminology.

"Ugh, I'd rather not think that," Klaus shivered as he started to get to his feet. Then he called out again, very mock-innocence, "Father -- are you and Dominic out on a stroll like Dorian and I are?"

The sound of two grown men crashing to the ground in stunned surprise (or perhaps because Klaus's suggestion had nearly given them both a heart attack!) came to the two of them as the older man held Dorian's hands, pulling him up as well. "I..." Dorian couldn't help but laugh. "I think, darling, you've quite given them a nasty turn!"

"Dinner, Father -- I will see you at *dinner*." Klaus's final stressing point as he led Dorian from that bush, and absently fixed the rose he'd tucked behind Dorian's ear. "I think I have an idea now, where to go..."

"Why not just wandering?" Dorian asked him. "We could go back to the house, too, and look at the paintings.. all of those fops and mister pumpkin pants..."

"Later -- I'm going to take you to a quiet nook," Klaus promised.

"That," Dorian agreed, "sounds most promising..."

And it was.

After their first run-in with the butler and Klaus's father, Klaus was grateful for the fact that the other men had entirely disappeared from following them. They'd been left to their own to talk and kiss and wander until seven, when Klaus had herded Dorian towards the dining room.

His father was waiting, already seated, and Dominic was hovering about the end of the table, waiting for them to show up. "Darling," Dorian muttered from the corner of his mouth, "they're a tad frightening."

"How so?" Klaus asked, truly curious as to why Dorian thought so.

"They're hovering like a nanny in a bad American horror film," Dorian whispered.

"They've always done that," Klaus shrugged as he moved into the room, Dorian firmly in tow. He was *hungry* after all day without eating!

Watching from beneath his lashes, Dorian allowed Klaus to seat him, tilting his head to the side slightly as Klaus slipped into the chair beside his.

"Did you..." The elder Eberbach cleared his throat. "Did you have a nice walk through the gardens?"

"Once you stopped following us," Klaus said truthfully to his father, while Dominic scurried off to get dinner.

A manful clearing of the throat came from Klaus's father, his brows rising. "Well..."

Klaus was looking at the older man pointedly, though -- he wasn't about to let it drop, 'rude' person that he was. "Well?"

"Well..." His father matched his frown easily, a ferocious look, grumbling, "I wanted to be sure you were... all *right*..."

"All right...? I'm not sure that I... follow you, father," Klaus drawled as he unfolded his napkin. "What to you mean?"

Dorian drawled an answer before his father could. "He wanted to be certain that I wasn't abusing you in the garden, darling," he teased. "Really, he *is* your father. Parents like to do these things, I'm afraid, odd as they are."

"You, *abusing* me?" Klaus laughed, soft at first and then a real, loud laugh that he had to stifle.

"You were aware that your son has the *strangest* sense of humor?" Dorian asked, raising a blond brow and smiling at Klaus's father as Dominic returned, nearly dumping the cart in his surprise at all of that laughter.

"Y.... Klaus Heinz, is there something..." Dominic was cut off by Klaus sitting upright again, still chuckling but gesturing to the man to not worry. God but it was funny to think of Dorian hurting *him*!

"I'm afraid I'm awfully non-violent generally, sir," Dorian chuckled, smiling down the table at him. "It'd be more likely that he'd smack me than the other way 'round, and I'm afraid that simply isn't likely at all."

Dominic's eyebrows all but crawled into his recessed hairline, as if to say that it wasn't so very long ago! Klaus, though, only smiled and nodded while soup was set out before each of them. "He's right."

Clearing his throat, the elder Eberbach promptly lifted his soup spoon, frowning. "Klaus, surely you wouldn't hit... er..." Well, it was a man, after all, wasn't it? So hitting him wouldn't exactly be against any particular societal more, not that Klaus had ever paid any attention to them....

To ANY of them. "I haven't in a long while," Klaus uttered, almost glaring at Dominic for a moment as he picked up his spoon and then thought the better of it and reached for crackers to crumble in first. "Na, Dorian?"

"In a very long time," Dorian admitted with an almost dreamy smile. "The last time..." The last time had been before they'd gone to East Germany.. "Hmm, it's just been a long time."

Klaus didn't need or want a reminder of how things were *before* the incident, so there was no need for him to mention that aloud. "So, Father, how have you been while I was away...?"

"Concerned," his father answered shortly, working on his soup. Dinner was no time to be holding conversations; he was much like Klaus in his efficient eating, steady though not messy. "You did not call me before you disappeared off to that heathen place."

"I needed to clear my head and get away -- there wasn't much time between my release from the hospital, my discharge, and the start of our trip."

"NEXT time you go somewhere, contact me first," he was informed shortly.

The interaction between them was nothing like the relationship between himself and his own father, but it WAS amusing, Dorian decided...just for the fact that they were so very much alike in such entertaining ways! /Bossy. And nosy,/ he thought with a smile.

"Then I'll tell you, in advance, that Dorian and I are heading to England for a while after our stay here," Klaus drawled.

His father snorted. "Land of bad roads and queers, I say," he sighed. "Why not just stay here?"

Klaus tilted his head to the side a little, to smirk at Dorian -- apparently, more than one person thought the roads were bad. "Because Dorian hasn't been home since... it happened."

"My family misses me, particularly Jamesie. He gets so lonely when I leave him alone, you know, and if I'm not careful, I'll get back and find he's sold something I particularly like by way of revenge. He thinks I'm better now," Dorian noted ruefully. After all, he'd sent that awful banged up little plane to get them...

"Which..." Klaus shifted one elbow onto the table as he finished his soup, thoughtful. "Isn't entirely true."

"Klaus?" his father questioned, looking right at him.

"Mmm?" Casually -- better to be prompted to see exactly what his father wanted than to make a guess and give too much information.

"What do you mean when you say that this is not entirely true?"

"Dorian and I... sometimes fall into ruts, among other things," Klaus said without much concern in his voice. "To make it simpler... let me just say that my discharge wasn't entirely groundless."

Grey-green eyes much like his son's remaining orb danced between them momentarily. "I see," he said finally, leaning back in his chair as Dominic returned to remove the soup bowls and set out the next course.

"It really..." Dorian paused, biting his lip. "It's really not so bad..."

"We manage very well. As long as we stay conscious of when we start to... repeat things, there isn't any problem." It had been a terrible problem for them both while in America, though, but thank god they'd resolved things between them.

"And this poses some problem," the elder Eberbach prodded, frowning.

"Yes." Klaus was firm on that. "To... a point. It's hard to explain, really, without mentioning incidents."

"You are trying to tell me subtly that you plan to have no children ever, aren't you?" his father accused suspiciously.

/Well,/ Dorian thought with some amusement, /I do believe I'd laugh if I didn't think they'd BOTH yell idiot at me.../

"I'm not going to touch any woman," Klaus agreed. "Some days we have enough trouble with ourselves -- we don't need *children*."

"But..." his father began.

"Really," Dorian said dryly. "People in situations like Klaus and myself shouldn't be entrusted with the creatures." God knows they had enough problems without adding *that* to their burdens!

"If we're not travelling, we're working," Klaus went on for them both. "It would be impossible."

"We're going to have to discuss this again, then," his father said darkly. "There *must* be an heir, Klaus!"

"I know that it's my... duty," Klaus uttered as he picked up a piece of lightly buttered bread and then passed the tray to Dorian. "But I can't fulfill it."

The man gave a heavy sigh as Dorian took the tray and a piece for himself. "Klaus, this family has a very long history," he began, a lecture Klaus had surely heard many more times than one.

"I know," Dorian's lover sighed. "But it hasn't done me... much good in life."

THAT seemed to momentarily stump the older man. "Klaus..."

"Perhaps," Dorian interrupted smoothly, "it would be better to discuss this in another year or two? We remain not entirely well, and I admit that I have objections to sharing..."

"I can frankly say that between Dorian's... protectiveness and my possessiveness, that it would be impossible right now," Klaus reiterated. *Fuck* it was hard to explain the strange dynamic between the both of them.

Reluctantly, Klaus's father sat back. "Three years," he grudgingly murmured. "We'll talk about it in three years."

"Five," Dorian offered.

Klaus was sure that his father would live so long -- easily. It was an Eberbach tendency, when given a life without being ended short in battle, to live an obscenely long time. "We have a lot to recover from," Klaus supplied.

"Five." That compromise was even more unwilling than before. "But you must consider the matter!"

"I will." And he would -- he'd consider it a tightly closed case-file, but his father didn't have to know that. "So, now that that's done with..."

"Let's eat dinner," his father sighed.

"Sounds painless," Klaus murmured, looking over to Dorian with his good left eye and winking.

Dorian grinned at him. "After all, it's good, honest, hearty German food, hm?" he teased in reply.

"You shouldn't joke that!" two generations of Eberbachs said at once. Klaus burst out laughing, though.

And that was how dinner went.

There was a feel to the mission Klaus didn't like -- it was both routine and risky, a challenge yet essentially a clear simple objective...

And an eerie sense of deja vu. Maybe it was just because he wasn't directly aware of who was or wasn't the enemy at first glance. Maybe it was that they were in ex-Soviet block territory. That was always enough to set his paranoia on edge...

"Put that cap over your hair, Dorian," he drawled, checking the perimeter again by peeking out the window of the unlit safe house room they stood in.

"Can't have that peeking out, now can we?" his partner murmured, tucking the length of braided golden curls tightly beneath his black cap and shifting to stand beside Klaus. In the dim light coming from outside, the pale scars that still marked his face were quite invisible. Over the last five years, the people with whom they often worked had come to unequivocally accept them, to almost forget that they were there, just as they had accepted the changes in Klaus. Their lives had become something resembling normal again, they were comfortable in their own skin.

The ruts that they hit were now few and far between, and when they did catch into one, it was shallower than if had been in those first few days. Time and patience had gone far to heal their internal wounds; external ones were easily ignored. Klaus kept his own very low-key and had possessed the luck of only losing his glass eye on one mission where he'd been hit too hard on the side of his head by a neo-Nazi.

"Bright as a flashlight," Klaus told him without hesitance. "We'll get in, get the disc, get out, and be on our way home in hours, hmn? Out of this godforsaken place."

"Right." What else was there to say? He knew Klaus was uncomfortable, and he was none to comfortable with the matter himself. There was just something that tingled along his spine, something he hadn't felt since...

/Don't think about that. You're just making yourself paranoid,/ Dorian thought, scowling.

And paranoia and dealing with it, frankly, was something best left to Klaus, who was an expert in the matter. At least, what's what Dorian had told him when he'd drawn his gun at the sound of a car-backfiring just before they'd left London for the mission. The German's ease of motion with his left hand was so great now that it was hard to tell he'd ever been right-handed -- perhaps his shooting was even better.

"We'll take the jeep until there's a mile left, and then we'll have to walk it."

Nodding, Dorian tucked several tiny picks into one pocket, hid another in his hair, and made sure that the tiny wires that were woven into collar and sleeve seams were in place. "Ready."

The safety was removed from Klaus's pistol, and then Dorian's lover nodded while walking to the door. "Hell yes."

From there on out, it was silence; the need to talk between them while working had long since dried up, missions taken more seriously than ever before. Even Dorian had become serious about *those*, and this was no exception. No more failures or slip ups in the over five years since their initial run-in with the Stasi; they were efficient, they were fast, and NATO knew that they didn't like to be bothered with petty shit. No, if a mission came to them, it was high risk, and worth their skills being called upon. Certainly tromping through the shambles of the disintegrating Yugoslavia looking for an ex-Soviet agent who had a disk that he shouldn't have had counted as more than petty shit.

"I wonder what's on that disk," Dorian murmured as they settled into the jeep, darkness nearly swallowing them whole. "It must be most remarkable if they're sending *us* after it."

"Passkeys, Dorian, and blueprints of installations." Things of literally deadly importance. Floor plans alone were dangerous things, but maps of wiring, utilities.... Klaus shook his head to himself as he started the jeep. "The current holder stole it."

Blond brows rose slightly. "Well, that was rather careless of the last owner, wasn't it?" he murmured, frowning. "Not good at all..."

"He's on the move right now -- no accompaniment, an unsecured safehouse," Klaus went on -- not that Dorian didn't already know the information. It was just a quick, on the spot review.

"With any luck, he'll never even know we came and went," Dorian said quietly, shaking his head. "I hope we don't have to..." Kill him. He hated it when they did...

"If we do, I'll do it." Dorian was still more of a pacifist -- that, at least, hadn't changed in five years.

"I'd just as soon it didn't come to that," he was informed wryly, but he accepted that it might, and they moved on from that particularly unpleasant thought. "The safe he's supposed to have is one of the old ones, so it shouldn't be difficult..."

"Cocky. He's cocky that no one will even try to take it from him again, to have such low protection..." Klaus was thinking aloud, often the best way to air through his own thoughts for holes.

Dorian bit at his lip. "Or perhaps he's confident in his skills. After all, sending in troops to get it back would be ostentatious, ridiculous, and would destroy what NATO and the UN are trying to do in Croatia. Perhaps he expects he can handle a thief or two."

"He's expecting a low profile no-name," Klaus countered, just to test the idea.

"Not in this area. Not at this time," Dorian murmured. "He's expecting the best, because only the best could get in, get the disk, and get out again without fucking everything up entirely." Klaus's favorite word, obviously, had invaded Dorian's vocabulary.

"Do you think he's betting on just one thief?"

A shrug answered him. "Possibly. One thief is usually more subtle than two. Two is better for getting the job done, but..."

"Working teams of two thieves exist," Klaus finished. Yes, they were the exception, a partnership that defied all sanity for those who looked at it for a brief moment only. The longer one looked, the more it made sense, all of it -- both how they lived together when not working and were lovers, and how they flowed seamlessly in missions, now. Klaus kept his eyes on the stony 'road', nodding. "Think he'll have backup?"

"One. Maybe two others, if that. You're right, darling. He's cocky," Dorian replied.

"If we can't catch him and his comrades off guard, then I'll have to kill them. Hope that they're sleeping, Dorian," Klaus murmured as he kept thinking, turning it all over in his mind for other things.

"I'd pray, if I believed in such a thing," his companion muttered.

They drove on through the dark for the longest time, silence between them as they prepared themselves for the grim task ahead of them. It was really not any more difficult than any of the objectives they'd been sent to fetch before, only there was an edge to both of them, a fear, a paranoia...

Klaus cut the engine, and coasted it in behind sparse underbrush, glanced over to Dorian once to give a signal as a nod -- no more talking, no more discussing, and no turning back once they left the jeep. Wordlessly, Dorian leaned over, pressed his lips to Klaus's with warmth, a comfort; it was something he always did before they risked their lives, something he meant to do for the rest of them. Always a last assurance before they couldn't anymore, just in *case*. A soft kiss that didn't delve into the passion with which they often kissed, assurance and love before Klaus pulled back and slipped out of the door of the jeep.

From there, it was silence, walking side by side. Dorian's fingers were shoved in his pockets, resting reassuringly on the tools of his trade. It made him feel better to know that they were there, and since that time so long ago, he'd made sure that his catsuit had sets of wires and picks sewn carefully into hems so that they'd never be without them again.

Klaus, too, had made modifications in weaponry; he carried a great deal more, now, hidden on his body. The holstered gun, one at his ankle, another at his belt, a forth at the small of his back. To some who knew them only vaguely, it seemed excessive. To Klaus, the extra guns were just a chance; to Dorian, the extra picks *were* the difference between life and death. There was no such thing as being too safe.

The road continued darkly for a while, the occasional street light buzzing to life, making them even more nervous than before (as if that was truly possible!). Still they walked, quiet laying between them, pausing only once they neared their destination: a battered building, shattered windows covered with boards, some few still existing whole but covered from the inside to keep gleams of light from showing within its heart. Dorian's fingers, nervous, now pulled out the small set of picks from his pocket, expression grim, heart beating wildly. It was nothing like that time before, but...

But.

/I don't like this. We should back out, now.../ he thought, gnawing at his lower lip. /It would be better to not get it than to keep on like this. They need to send someone else.../ Only who else could do what they could do?

Yet he only needed to say the word to Klaus and they'd turn back, Klaus would kill the mission without question. It was just a matter of *telling* his lover as much, that fear, and Klaus would turn around, go back to the jeep, and they'd make themselves scare and tell NATO to piss off. Klaus never questioned Dorian's occasional premonitions.

Green-grey eyes, one painted and one so very real and deep, looked over to him and gave another nod.

With a filling breath, Dorian nodded in return. It wasn't such a bad feeling; it wasn't as bad as it had been on occasion. Perhaps, whatever it was that was bothering him, it would only mean that it would be one of their close calls.

Maybe.

Close calls weren't so bad or impossible as some saw them -- often, he and Klaus put their over-preparedness to use for them and came out on top.

Klaus led the way towards that shuttered house, keeping low and silent on the approach to the back door; his pistol was kept drawn, index finger caressing absently over the trigger.

Silently, the lock came open beneath Dorian's fingers despite its shoddy state. The small vial of pb blaster he kept in the pocket with his picks often came in handy, particularly for squeaky hinges or difficult locks. Klaus sometimes thought that Dorian was a toolbox in and of himself.

He was proving that again that night, as the door swung silently open; Klaus led in first again, the firepower of the two, scanning into the dark space beyond. The stench was undeniable; a dark smell of waste, piss, spoiled food, and the urge to refuse to step foot in the damned house overwhelmed Dorian as he paused at the doorway. Still, he couldn't *not* follow Klaus, so he stepped inside and silently shut the door behind him.

Someone had lived there before the house had been turned into a 'safe house'. Klaus was willing to bet money that whoever had lived there was still somewhere in the rubble of a life that Klaus knew he was walking over. Bits of papers, scraps of cloth -- it made the jumble of the wolf-ravaged house in Alaska feel like it'd been neat! He listened once he was in, listened carefully for sounds of any inhabitant.

The quiet noises of talking filtered in from somewhere upstairs, and Dorian pointed a finger upwards, blue eyes tracking through the darkness. Even half blind, Klaus saw as well in the dark as he did, so that their path through the junk that filled the floor remained quiet. Tension seemed to rise and rise and rise, and Dorian could feel his teeth grinding together.

Through the junk of the floor, Klaus led the way to the decrepit safe, stepped into a clear spot with his gun drawn and angled towards where he saw the stairs, always watching Dorian's back now, unlike his mistake of that one time.

The work went quickly, easily; the safe was rusted and hard as hell to open, but Dorian managed to flick the door wide finally, only to find a tiny wireless camera sitting inside. "Shit!" It was a barely breathed whisper, but most definitely meant.

Klaus didn't dare turn and see what the 'shit' was about -- only kept the gun trained at the stairs and hissed back, "Abort."

Silently, Dorian rose, shifting to run silently back to the door, expecting Klaus to be right behind him, but the loud sound of a safety being removed from an older-model pistol came from a source remarkably close to his head. "Ah-ah-ah. Only if you want to lose the back of your head, hm?"

Two forms in the darkness was all Klaus could see, and he knew, with all truth, that in pitch dark and unable to perceive depth with his only one eye, there was no way he could hit the man with the pistol without clipping Dorian, possibly killing them both.

Then he heard the click behind his own head.

"Let us go, and no one will come after you."

"Huh." That sound said much, a snort of disbelief. "And you said this also to Iosef?"

THAT made Dorian dizzy, the bloody rushing from his head in a dash to leave him white as a sheet and shaky. /No, no, no, no.../

Klaus stayed cool, though, and jumped to no conclusions. "Who's Iosef?"

Laughter came from both of the men, then, one of them jesting to another, "[Eh, as if they did not cut off his balls!]"

"Ah, him." Klaus was grasping for calm, now -- these were men who knew that officer, who had some reason to hate he and Dorian more than most of the enemy already did. "He did not release us when we asked." A simple, calmly shrugged answer.

"Ja," the first one drawled, speaking English so that the amusement in his voice was even more obvious to Dorian, despite the fact that years with Klaus had smoothed out his German. "As if you would not have hunted him down even then, Iron Klaus.. Or perhaps now you are only Tin Klaus, eh?" The feel of the gun moved to the back of Dorian's neck, pressing hard. "Tin Klaus and his fucking little queer whore, huh?"

"Think what you will," Klaus shrugged off, unable to see that press to Dorian's neck, but hearing his lover's startled breath, such a soft change of pattern.

"I think perhaps if I blow his head off, I would be wasting a fine fuck, eh, faggot? Huh?" he nearly purred, leaning forward to trace his tongue into Dorian's ear. It made the blond man damned near nauseous, and the urge to kick him in the balls and run was only obliterated due to the press of cold metal against his spinal cord.

"I think perhaps that you're courting the same fate as that officer," Klaus growled, unable to really help the slight jolt forwards he made, a rush towards the man that was aborted by the jab of a gun against his ribs.

"Oh, no. You see, we are not that stupid. We are, after all, still alive, despite the fall of the Republic, despite what you did to Iosef, no?" the man behind him laughed. "I think that we will go upstairs now, ja?"

"*Nein!*" Klaus snapped, making another lunge despite the gun against his ribs -- and this one was for Dorian, to knock him free of that agent's aim, so they could rush for the door...

That proved to be a mistake, for a shot rang out, accompanied by a sharp cry of pain, and there was little chance for running at all. How could one of them ever leave the other, no matter what? And particularly at that moment!

Klaus knew, immediately, that it hadn't been him who'd been shot -- that he was the one who'd escaped harm so far, and that Dorian's voice had been the one to cry out. No, no way that he could run, with Dorian shot; immediately, he pulled Dorian tight into his arms, trying to be protective in case of more bullets.

"[How sweet,]" one of them snickered as Dorian clung to him, shaking his head wildly, whispering for Klaus to *go*, to get out, to *leave*. He was frantic, and it was telling.

"Go, go, go!" he hissed, barely heard even by Klaus. "Go!!"

Klaus started to his feet as quickly as he could after the initial protect reaction, with Dorian held close, yet before he could even get to his knees, he heard both guns cock again.

"I do not think you should be so stupid. Perhaps, instead, you should pick up your faggot and march to the stairs, ja?"

"If you're going to kill us, you should get it over with," Klaus snarled, putting their combined weight back on his knee for a moment before standing up straight at last. It left Dorian dangling ridiculously, long legs sprawled over an arm, thigh bleeding heavily so that Klaus could feel it against his hand where he applied pressure.

"That would be too easy, I think. Especially after Iosef. We know better ways to make you tell us what you know, and then we will kill you afterwards, yes?"

"This fucking game again," Klaus bit out. "We won't talk! There is no Stasi anymore to draw information from. The KGB told us where your friend Iosef was -- understand that you're useless to everyone, deplorable."

As they headed for the stairs, guns trained on both of the NATO contractors, one man shrugged. "There are terrorists and others who desire information. It has uses. You will talk..." And then, eerily...

"We will see."

That was enough to make Klaus falter at the top step, nearly freezing all together. "Which one were you?" he asked in a faintly shaken tone.

"He was still tight when I fucked him," the man purred altogether too near his eyes. "I'll bet you'd have been tighter."

This time Klaus didn't stop on his way up the stairs. "You won't touch him again."

Ohh, that was funny to the man, revealed to be the dark-haired one who'd had Dorian second once they reached the top of the stairs and the light. "We will see," he chortled, shaking his head. "You, Tin Klaus, are funny."

Dorian's trembling had become more pronounced with every step, the way he clung to Klaus telling. He wondered if their backup had already done something to help them. He wondered if they would ever get out alive. He wondered if he was going to bleed to death...

"Let me bind his fucking leg before you damn bastards start -- he won't be useful for speaking if he passes out," Klaus said acridly as he entered the upstairs room.

"And he is useful for so~o much more," the second man joked snickeringly, already having caught on to just what was going on between the lot of them.

"It won't work this time," Klaus muttered under his breath as he knelt again, Dorian still cradled in his arms, though he soon laid him gently on the floor and started to remove the right sleeve of his shirt to use it as binding. "Bastards are wasting your time."

The dark-haired man laughed. "You will now provide us entertainment, Tin Klaus and faggot. This is not necessarily a waste of MY time."

The blond man clenched his eyes tightly shut and kept his mouth just as securely closed. Being shot hurt like hell, and being so afraid hurt worse. He'd go crazy if they touched him, just completely crazy! He couldn't stand it! /Klaus, you should have *run*.../

Not that his lover would have *ever* thought of deserting him -- it wasn't even a remote possibility for either of them to *be* without the other. "Entertainment, huh? It won't last you long," Klaus told them as he wrapped the sleeve tightly over the wound on Dorian's leg.

"We will see," the dark-haired man snickered. "Tie him up, tightly. Make sure he can't get loose..." A sneer crossed his face. "But make sure we can get at all of the important parts."

The moment he had Dorian's leg done, he pivoted sharply to face the man who was coming up behind him with rope. "I don't think so!"

"Perhaps you would rather that we shot your faggot once more? Perhaps in the head, this time... Then would you be willing to be tied?" came the amused response.

"There's no need to shoot again," Klaus murmured, dropping, very slowly, his defensive stance. /God dammit!!/

The ex-Stasi laughed abrasively as his companion began to tie Klaus carefully so that his hands were tightly kept to the frame of a bed that was in the room, but the rest of him was upon the floor near Dorian. "I don't think we need to tie the little fucktoy, hmmm? Eh, Eroica?"

Wide blue eyes turned to Klaus, and it was obvious to him if to no one else that Dorian could take little more. They'd been captured since the Stasi a time or two, but everything seemed so similar, even if it was also wildly different, and for all that they were better...

Fucktoy? Klaus gave the ropes a testing jerk. "Don't touch him, do you hear me? You lay a god-damned hand on him, and I'll cut it off!"

"Not," he was informed dryly, "if we cut *yours* off *first*!"

Klaus stilled then, a dark silence falling over him. "Dorian -- pretend you're not here. We've weathered worse than this," he said firmly, not giving the ex-Stasi the joy of an answer. He could almost see the breaths that parted Dorian's lips, pained little wisps that stirred the curls that were falling in his face now, and the way that golden lashes came down to hide the expression in those eyes said that at least he was trying very hard to do what Klaus had told him to do.

"Undress the blond queer," the obvious leader of the two snickered, waving a hand to direct the other man.

Two on two -- Klaus could hardly believe they were being defeated by such odds, yet they were solidly out-gunned -- two to none that he could reach. He could feel the gun against the small of his back, inside his thigh, at his ankle. Yet, with his hands up behind his head like that... It did him no good.

"I get the pleasure of undressing him? Will you keep the gun on them, then?"

"Ja," the ex-Stasi drawled. "I'll even let you go first with him, if I can go first with the other."

/Oh, God, oh, God, oh, GOD.../ Dorian was hanging on by a thread, truly, he was. He wasn't a coward, Klaus had proven that to him, but *this*... *THIS*...

The first hand that fell on him met with resistance and the sound of a loud protest, almost a scream it was bellowed so loudly. His eyes flew open, wild, and he struggled despite himself, despite his injury. "NO! *NO*!"

"Why are you doing this?" Klaus roared over Dorian's protesting. "This isn't the way to get information out of us -- you've already seen that!!!"

"Should I shut him up?" the second laughed to his ex-Stasi friend.

"It's fun to hear him yell. He did not yell the first time," the dark-haired man offered enthusiastically, ignoring Klaus; after all, he didn't particularly care if they got information or not. "I doubt anyone will come even if they hear him..."

"You fucking stupid bastard! It's no god-damned wonder why you ended up here, of all the shit-holes in the world -- only smart enough for cheap sneak thieving! There's a reason why you aren't an officer!!" Anything at all that Klaus could think of to insult the man was leaving his lips -- anything to distract them from Dorian, to distract the man who was starting to pull off the thief's catsuit.

"What did you say!?" the man hissed, now ignoring Dorian to stalk up to Klaus, cocked gun placed under his chin. "Repeat what you said!" The fact that he now had the ex-Stasi's concentration on himself did not withdraw the second man's attentions to Dorian, including tearing off the bandage Klaus had so recently applied. "Say that again!"

The satisfaction of hearing Iron Klaus back down, though, wasn't going to come to him. "You know what I said," he drawled coolly. "I said that there's a reason you could never have been an officer. Too fucking stupid."

"Bastard!" the man hissed, drawing out a knife. "You must want to lose your other fucking eye!" He really couldn't tell in the light which eye was the one that had been destroyed, thanks to some additional surgery and the way that Klaus's bangs fell.

"It's not my fault that you're fucking stupid," Klaus snarled, giving the rope at his wrist a jerk as he arched fiercely.

The knife flashed out even as Dorian screamed again, slicing across the glass eye with a vicious strike. "Bastard!"

Klaus hissed in pain -- but only for the scratch the blade scored across his false eye, and the bit of blood it drew from his eyelid. "Yes."

"No! NO, NO, NO!" Dorian was screaming, as much from the fact that Klaus was bleeding as from the fact that he was being assaulted again, and he grabbed a nearby shoe, firmly smacking his attacker upside the head with it.

"Your queer fucker!" his assaulter snapped, wrenching the shoe free of Dorian's hand to bring it heel down across Dorian's jaw. It connected with a firm crack, the sound of bone giving way, and brought a groan that was purely pained with it.

That snapped Klaus's attention to Dorian -- no, this plan wasn't working at all!!! "Leave him alone!!!"

"I don't think we will," the ex-Stasi growled, smirking as he used the knife to begin cutting off Klaus's clothing. "I think that we will, instead, let you watch while he is fucked again, eh? You like that, huh? Fucking him... You like that, right?! So you'll like it when we do..."

"When the tables are turned, I'll make your fucking lives miserable -- what we did to Iosef is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you!!"

"All talk -- Tin Klaus," the second man sneered as he shoved Dorian flat on the floor, and fumbled open his pants.

The blond thief was wild at that despite the obvious pain he was in, jawbone likely cracked from the force of that blow, his head ringing. He didn't want to open his mouth -- his whole face hurt! -- but he couldn't stop the frantic whines that were escaping him even as he tried to roll out from beneath the man.

He was kept pinned in place, though -- a knee jabbing just above his gun-shot wound, while his captor stroked his cock. "Pretty fag..."

"You bastards!" Klaus snarled, trying again to get the man who was working on him, the ex-Stasi who was cutting away the last of his shirt; with one free leg, he lashed out and caught the man in the crotch.

"SHIT!" Groaning, he fell backwards, clutching at his groin as he toppled. "Agnnn..."

The sound of Dorian screaming again, nothing dignified at all like the first time, rang out in the room, penetration coming swiftly, terribly, driving him out of his mind with agony! It burned, hurt, tore, and he couldn't bear it, simply couldn't manage to keep himself apart from it, couldn't *think*...

"Ohh, shit..." the ex-Stasi's partner in crime moaned as he sank in, both at the pleasure clutching around his cock and for what had just been done to his friend. "Ohhh, this one feels so good! Get off the floor -- it was just a kick!"

'Just a kick' from a steel-toed boot. It'd be a wonder if the thing ever worked again! "Fucking asshole!" the man groaned, rocking with his hands cupped over the injured area. "'m going to fuck you up so bad..."

"Get near me again, I'll kick you again," Klaus snarled -- oh, and Dorian, he couldn't help but look at what was being done to him lover. "I'll kill you -- you fucking bastard, I'll cut you into *pieces* -- pieces so small that no test will recognize your body!!"

Rising stiffly, still clutching at himself, the ex-Stasi growled, slashing out with his knife viciously, catching Klaus's face, the sharp edge slicing down to the bone.

A well placed slice over his jaw that got a startled cry of pain from Klaus, eyes shutting tightly. It made his right eye, and the bleeding lid with it, hurt more, but it wasn't as if he could see from that eye to begin with... "Fuck you."

"Fine." That growled answer barely sounded over the cacophony of agonized sound filling the small room, the accompanying groans of pleasure. "We'll do that, then."

"[No, we won't!]" His snarl hurt his cut jaw, the sharply protesting muscles that all but screamed their agony at him. "[Not touching me!]"

This time, the man wasn't stupid; he reached for one of those feet, first, removed the shoe despite kicking, prepared to tie him with it before starting with the other as he growled out, "[Yes. We WILL.]"

Klaus gave a final kick, struggling all the way and rubbing his wrists raw -- what hellish luck!! "[No you won't! You won't get a thing from us!!]"

"[Don't you understand yet!?]" the man gritted out, coming over him, cutting off slim black slacks. "[This is not about information! This...]" A dark smile crossed that face. "[THIS is about *revenge*. You killed Iosef. Your escape destroyed my career. This, I will have revenge for.]"

"[You won't live long to enjoy it,]" he was told in a flat tone, as he finished cutting off Klaus's slacks, revealing the array of guns the man had hidden on his body.

"[So long as I have it,]" came the purred response as he removed those guns from the bound man, the stridency of Dorian's screaming stilling slowly, becoming silence, "[does it matter how long I have to enjoy it?]" Klaus spit in his face. Carelessly, the knife slid through white cloth underwear, ripping them off, slicing Klaus's hip as he did so. "[You're going to regret that, Tin Klaus!]"

"[Iron,]" Klaus hissed as he was bared. He'd never been able to manage sex of that sort with *Dorian* despite trying every so often just in case it had gotten less painful. Now... now it *wasn't* to be Dorian -- it was revenge... "[I'm Iron Klaus.]"

"[Yeah,]" the man drawled, sliding between his thighs, half-hard cock pressing against him despite the previous blow to the groin. "[I suppose you are, after all...]"

Klaus gave one more struggle, trying to jerk his legs free, his wrists free -- anything at all to stop what he didn't want to happen! if he could get free, he could get Dorian free, and they could leave...

The violent jerk of entry put an end to that thought, and an end to any thought at all.

"They're late," A fretted to Z. They'd taken over the Major's job entirely, and no one had objected to that. In fact, they'd been given all of the appropriate promotions since, and not removed from the unit. It was a matter of NATO knowing what was best for the Alphabet, really -- the senior agent of them all, and the 'rookie' who had been Klaus's protege and favorite. The experience and the skills of Klaus were there, with the both of them combined.

"They're never late," Z uttered tensely. "I don't like it -- let's move out, now."

Nodding firmly, A stood. "Right." It was only five minutes, but there was a sense of something *wrong* there, something *terrible*, and they both felt it. Doubting one's instincts was ill-advised in their business.

"I'll drive." Z had picked up Klaus's driving habits, and though it was a frightening thing on traffic crowded streets, on missions, there was no other way to drive. The younger agent was already on his feet, bolting for the door. "G, come with us!'

"The rest of you, wait here. Prepare for *any* emergency and be ready to evacuate when we get back," A finished as they headed out the door, G right behind them, his stern tweed walking dress entirely practical. Practical, but still a dress after all. Klaus's return as a contract employee who was put to use often, had gotten G back into his... her old mood, her better one of sometimes flaunting, often working -- a brilliant little minx who used the dresses as a way to put others off the scent.

The car was already running when A and G reached it, a handy, functional jeep that Klaus himself had tuned to make sure it was working well enough. "Get in!" Z barked

They obeyed without question, the vehicle taking off before A's second foot was quite off the ground yet, grim silence filling the thing as they headed out in the night. "I've got a very bad feeling about this," A muttered.

"Get your gun out, take the safety off," Z murmured to A as he peeled around a barren corner, towards and past the still empty jeep that Klaus and Dorian had driven within a mile of the spot.

Even G obeyed that order, pulling a tiny gun from a pocket that looked as if it couldn't possibly fire anything more than a bb but which was actually *quite* lethal. "Sir, how will we get in without...?"

"Without what?" A prompted.

"Without Lord Gloria," G answered meekly. S was the closest thing they had to a thief, and they'd left him behind. G couldn't pick a lock to save himself, much less anyone else!

"Break in, if it's not opened," Z shrugged -- at this point, the mission was likely soon to be aborted -- extra damage did no harm if it could mean the lives of their two best contractors and friends.

"Yes, sir." A's eyes caught G's in the rear-view mirror, the obvious worry on the slim man's face disturbingly echoed in his own as he glanced over at Z.

They *all* had that sense, and it only amplified when Z screeched to a halt just in front of the safe house. "Right -- all three of us in one unit."

G and A nodded, and they abandoned the jeep, slipping around to the back: the point of entrance Dorian and Klaus were supposed to have taken. The door was closed, but a quick turn of the knob revealed it to be unlocked, and it opened easily, without a sound -- a sign that their contractors had at least been there. Z led in, and moved through the dark bottom floor -- towards the stairs, the top of which he heard *noise* from.

The noise was no more than a soft keening covered by conversation, a sound that sent chills down G's spine. It seemed inhuman, as if no throat could possibly produce such a sound and yet...

And yet.

There it was, drifting down to them. Z led up the steps, silent and avoiding the weak-looking boards -- he stayed to the edges, crouching down before the door at the top to listen to the conversation.

"[Why did you cut it out, frigging idiot!? Now he can't talk even if he wants to!]"

"[At least I heated the fucking shears! He will not bleed to death! It isn't as if you wanted him to say anything, anyway! You only wanted your revenge!]"

Z tensed a little, but held silent and still for a moment longer -- to listen to the two men bicker, trying to place where they were in the room. One was nearer the door, but he was sure he'd still have the sweep to swing it open and start shooting.

A slight motion to his left marked A, nodding at him, head tilted to the right. -- you take the one on the left. I'll take the one on the right -- he mouthed, giving an equally sharp nod to G.

That confirmed, Z snapped open the door and shot to his feet, gun locked plainly and accurately onto the man to the left. "Freeze."

"What the..." The words were out, gun shifting, but it was too late, for A had shot the one on the right, the sheer amount of *blood* covering the man damned near scaring him to death even in his cool levelheaded response.

Z took a moment of pause, to see the fear in his target's eyes, before he shot him cleanly in the skull -- and then let his gaze drift over the room proper, while G gave a startled gasp from the doorway. Both operatives -- /operatives?/ Z thought dully, eyes widening -- were naked and bloody, a fair amount of thick sanguine liquid having dripped loose from Eroica's mouth, from a shot on his thigh; from the eye which was glass, from Klaus's jaw...

"God..."

Dorian was propped loosely up against Klaus, while the retired Major was still tightly bound, arms pale from having been above his head so long. The skin of his feet and lower legs was reddened in spots, nearly charred black in others... it seemed a miracle to Z that they were still breathing. "Mission abort," Z murmured. "G, get to the jeep, radio for a 'copter."

"Yes, sir," G whispered, face turning pale at the sight of them, at the horrible *smell*...

"Dear God," A sighed, moving into the room carefully, gun still drawn.

"Scan for others, there may be more hiding," Z said softly, kneeling down beside them both to check for pulses. Both were weakened, but not so weak that they'd die in the next few minutes, unless it was from shock. With that thought in mind, he put his gun back into the holster Klaus had given him years before, and pulled a knife from his belt to cut Klaus free.

The ropes were soft and split with incredible ease, those muscled arms dropping slightly before Z's hands caught them, bringing them down carefully. He could see Eroica's lashes flutter, blue eyes gleaming at him momentarily with glazed expression before closing once more, unknowing of him. It seemed eerily familiar, *too* familiar, and it was almost more than he could bear.

"No sign of any others," A reported quietly, turning quickly at a sound in the door. It was only G, though, with the small medical box that had been in the jeep, moving forward to kneel on the bloody floor.

"There's a copter on the way."

"Good," Z murmured, standing up to strip the bed of sheets. "Tend to anything immediate, G, and then we need to warm them up so they don't succumb to shock..."

Bare moments later, the little transvestite moaned, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, as if that alone would hold back the bile that was rising.

"What?" A questioned sharply, the thrum of the incoming helicopter beginning to sound outside.

"They..." G swallowed HARD. "They've cut out Lord Gloria's tongue!"

"Oh, shit," Z swore as he snapped the top blanket from the bed and moved to let G help him wrap them. "A, go signal in the chopper!"