Title: Blood Red Rubies
Part: 1/1
Author: focsfyr
Pairing: none really, slight Dorian+Klaus
Warning: bad language
Rating: PG-13 for Klaus' dirty mouth
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of From Eroica with Loveand have no money. No copyright infringements are intended.
Archive: my site others please ask
C&C: is loved


Note: I do not speak German, so please excuse any errors. Rough translations will be posted at the end of the fic.

BLOOD RED RUBIES

German, Dorian was finding out, was an excellent language for cursing. It didn't matter that he only understood perhaps one word in five. The words being spat out at a volume high enough to make the thief seriously consider plugging his ears sounded quite offensive enough even without knowing what they meant.

Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach snarled out another phrase in harsh, venomous German, and the Alphabets collectively edged a little further away from their commanding officer. They were, rather valiantly Dorian thought, trying to go about their business despite the ugly scene taking place in the middle of their office, but it was difficult to ignore anything as loud and intimidating as the Major. Whenever he reached a particularly high decibel every one of them froze like a deer in headlights and got ready to bolt.

Well, at least he knew all those years of smoking hadn't damaged the Major's lungs. If this little demonstration was anything to go by, his lung capacity could shame a racehorse.

----------

Klaus could feel his blood pressure rising with every bellow and knew his face was starting to turn an embarrassing shade of red, a fact which only added fuel to his angry outburst. This wasn't one of his normal fits of temper; it was a completely uncontrolled fury, and everything about the situation just irritated him more. First of all, Klaus hated being out of control. Then there was the fact that losing it this badly made him look stupid, which was totally unacceptable, especially in front of his subordinates. Furthermore, he was rapidly running out of insults and curses.

Rather than stop yelling, he switched to English. If he stopped now, before his temper was at least somewhat under control, he'd have to hit the Limey pervert. Not the best of ideas when Klaus needed his cooperation.

Finally, his verbal explosion began to wind down to normal levels, but that didn't do anything for his mental one.

Damn that irresponsible faggot, anyway! The man he'd robbed was a diplomat for God's sake! Now, because of the Earl's capricious whim, three weeks of delicate negotiations were in danger of going strait down the toilet. And the bloody bastard didn't even have the decency to look sorry! He just stood there like the idiot he was while Klaus yelled at him. And he was smiling!

"Was ist so lustig? " he snapped. Lord Gloria gave him an innocently baffled look. "What is so bloody fucking funny?!"

Dorian smirked flirtatiously and leaned against a filing cabinet. "Just thinking I should have brought a tape recorder, darling." His aristocratic drawl curled lazily around the room, carefully enhanced for the maximum Eberbach irritation. He may not have understood most of the German curses and insults (one simply didn't learn such words in school, after all) but the English ones had been quite clear. When in doubt (or when angry), Dorian fell back on needling the Major. Big blue eyes widened in innocent fascination. "What with all those unfamiliar words being used, it would've been nice to have a copy to translate later. Besides, then I could listen to your voice anytime I wanted."

The sultry purr of the Earl's last sentence and the appreciative look in his eyes as he gave the Major a once-over almost sent Klaus back into a rage. Almost. But he wasn't called Iron Klaus for nothing, and he wrestled down the instinctive "pervert!" that formed on his lips.

He couldn't quite stifle the glare, though. Scheisse.

"I just want to know what the hell you were thinking, pulling this shit now of all times, Eroica," he grated out, crushing the urge to yell, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? You..."

"Pardon me for interrupting, Major, but what exactly did I do?"

It took all his iron will, but Klaus firmly planted his foot atop his temper and answered the Earl's question with something resembling calm. "You robbed the Belgian embassy, Dieb, and stole the Ambassador's wife's prize ruby necklace." Much to his amazement, the smug bastard actually looked surprised. Stunned actually.

"Why would I want a ruby necklace?" Even the thief's voice was bemused. "I've already got several, far more lovely that that gaudy thing."

"Why the hell would I know?!" the Major shouted, "I don't give a fuck why you wanted it. But your sticky fingers are going to cause a goddamn international incident if you don't fucking return it!"

"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't have it."

"WHAT?!" As Klaus' temper finally boiled over, Dorian was treated to the singularly unpleasant experience of being grabbed by the front of his shirt and shaken. Now, Dorian was not a small man, and it took quite a bit of strength to do that, but the Major shook him so hard he was sure his neck would snap, then drew him near, hand still fisted in Dorian's shirt. He rarely got this close to the Major's face, but now didn't seem the time to steal a kiss. It was difficult to be anything but intimidated when someone like the Major was glaring at you from inches away. "What did you do with it, thief?" The growl was quiet and threatening.

Major Eberbach was notorious for his temper and everyone knew how much he yelled when he was angry. The more he yelled, the more enraged he was. But when he got quiet...well, few people had that almost-polite growl directed at them and lived to speak of it.

Klaus wasn't just angry, he was murderous.

"I didn't take it Klaus," Dorian's voice was almost a whisper, "I really didn't." It was at times like these, hypnotized by Klaus' glorious green eyes that Dorian realized just how much danger he was courting. Teasing Klaus was like teasing a wolf: you could never be sure if it would just snarl at you, or really decide to go for your throat this time.

Klaus looked ready to rip out his throat... with his teeth if necessary.

"Then who did take it, thief? The necklace is gone and your calling card in its place. So tell me, who the hell else would do that?"

Fearful blue eyes suddenly went cold as an Alaskan winter. "My calling card, you say?" All trace of flirtatiousness or fear vanished from Dorian's voice and Klaus suddenly found himself holding a man he'd met only a few times.

A brass-balled thief capable of facing down KGB agents with a gun he thought was empty. Smooth as silk at talking his way in or out of trouble, cool as an autumn breeze in the face of danger. A man who lived for the thrill of the hunt, though his prey was artwork and information.

He was the only person who dared to toy with NATO's most feared agent, and the only one with the nerve to face down his rage.

"The thief used my calling card?" Eroica's lips thinned into a chilling smile. "Now that simply will not do." Strong, slender fingers reached up and tugged Major Eberbach's hand from his shirt, and, without a backward glance, the thief was gone.

Automatically, Klaus dug out a cigarette and lit it, expression blank as he mused over what exactly had just happened. He heard a soft shuffling of feet behind him and scowled at the twenty-six agents standing around the room, staring. "The hell are you doing? Get back to work!"

Alphabets scattered in all directions as the major stomped back to his office. He had no Eroica to question, no ruby necklace, and no clue as to where it was.

What a fucking mess.

-----------

Three days later, Major Eberbach stalked into the NATO building, people melting out of his path like fog under the noon sun. It was a sign of his irritation that he didn't notice how thoroughly everyone was avoiding him. Agents and officers alike generally gave him wide berth, but today they gave him the kind of space one affords to a ticking bomb.

His alphabets ducked for cover when he stormed into the office, eyes tracking him warily as he crossed the room. They began to breathe easier when he headed straight for his office without so much as glancing at any of them, but, maddeningly, he stopped with his hand on the door knob.

Had he noticed their silence? How they all stood frozen in place, as if by being still they could avoid notice?

A soft thud rang through the room like thunder. It came from the Major's office.

Klaus opened the door and slammed it closed behind him.

The Alphabets breathed a collective sigh of relief. None of them were so curious that they'd risk trying to get close enough to find out what had made that noise. No, it was best to stay out of the Major's way. If the noise was anything important, they'd find out soon enough, no doubt.

------------

Klaus stopped dead in his tracks once the door closed.

There, tied hand and foot across his desk like a sacrificial goat on an alter, was a skinny, dark haired man Klaus had never seen before. His eyes were wide and frightened, his bony wrists rubbed raw from his struggles to escape. Apparently, the man was not nearly the escape artist Eroica was. Or else, Klaus thought disgustedly, looking at the dozens of complex knots which formed the man's bindings, Eroica just had far too much experience with tying people up. An elaborate ruby necklace lay fastened snugly around the man's throat. Except for the sparkle of faceted gems, one could almost envision that his throat had been cut.

A perfumed card was tucked beneath one of the ropes crossing the man's chest. Klaus picked it up.

I hate taking credit for things I haven't done,
and he had to pay a price for attempting to frame me.
Now that I've reprimanded him for his breach of
etiquette, I turn him over to your capable hands.

Happy St. Valentine's Day, Darling.
I hope you like your present!

From Eroica with Love

Heavy pink paper crushed in his fist. Eroica had broken into NATO's Bonn headquarters, one more crime for which the thief would have to pay. Arrogant bastard.

Somehow, though, Klaus couldn't quite make himself be angry.

DAS ENDE

German Translations:

Was ist so lustig?- What is so funny?
Scheisse- shit
Dieb- thief