My Hippo Head has Music in It
Chapter 1
Crying…a baby's crying. Klaus woke to the sound from the little monitor where the cries came in loud spurts mixed with the static. Then a male voice kept hushing with the cries, which turned into wails at that instant. Klaus flew up with Magnum in hand and in half-conscious state.
The Schloss is no place for young infants, but he insisted that his son, Gert, live in his old nursery, of course the redecoration couldn't be more ridiculous, yellow paint with prints of ponds and ducks, how emasculating for a boy babe. Yet…he enjoyed the brightness it offered compared to the pristine décor when he occupied it as a toddler.
Stopping in front of the two doors, instinct took over and Klaus burst through, weapon drawn.
"Bloody hell! What-what's wrong with you?" the man said, in a gruff, hoarse, voice.
Klaus became completely conscious.
Standing with Gert in his arms, Eroica-Dorian, held the wailing child with his might. Klaus knew better than to assume someone had broken in and tried to harm his Gert, but enemies and Dorian's own problems-namely demons- tried once. Klaus never wanted to feel helpless; the situation was out of his hand, but experience taught him it could happen again, and with an unhappy ending.
Dorian stared at him. Klaus hated that look.
"Excuse me, for this…" he waved his gun to indicate the almost assault. "I…did not know you had come home yet." Home. I say this place, my castle, is his home.
The other man gave no thought. "I wasn't out too long tonight; I actually got here at eleven. You were…shhh it's okay baby, Dorie's here, don't cry, I'm here," Gert's wails subsided when he heard his dad enter the room, but they started up as Klaus did not come near.
"Major, I was coming to…shh, shh, look, Daddy's here…it's his 'Daddy hold me' cry."
Klaus took the cue and came forward, putting the Magnum on the diaper table. The only time Gert didn't respond to Dorian was when he wanted Klaus, his father, to be there. Dorian handed him the baby and Klaus quickly kissed his little fighter. From Klaus' knowledge he held Gert in both arms and swayed around the room, that always made Gert giggle as big dimples defined his Latin features. Gert was adopted…in a way. His parents were dead, well one of them, and Klaus did feel strongly protective for the boy, which turned into love. His father, Graf Eberbach took the news in uncertain reluctance, although one embrace with the small infant decided that Schloss Eberbach had an heir; now it awaited its mistress.
The events of the little fighter's journey from a forest to Germany he wouldn't understand so innocent and barley walking yet and the Graf thought it best not to ask.
Someday, little fighter I will tell you, Klaus thought and started to hum "Mary had a Little Lamb."
Dorian watched this exchange. He kept his eyes on how Gert's dimples, how his brown eyes shined with each giggle as it left his tiny mouth. Dorian guessed Gert had to be eight months old by now. They had no birthdate when they found him, and Klaus' best prediction was the babe was only a few days old. That was in August, it is now April in Germany.
Gert fell to sleep and yawned before Klaus put him in the crib, which was also new and had a mobile with ducks and frogs. The room had even been carpeted with light blue material for the effect of aestheticism, with the pond theme.
Dorian stared at Klaus again. Klaus knew and kept his head down. Before, he would meet that fop's glare full force with his own; his eyes locked secrets, understandings, and respect in those contest of sight. Now Klaus couldn't stand to look at Dorian with those blue eyes, sky eyes, that used to sparkled and hold lechery, but also eyes that never faltered in brightness and showed bravery when odds were against him. Eyes that held a promise Klaus wished he could see again.
The first time he saw Eroica, as he should be known, after Wellesley ruined their lives, those eyes were austere and every bit the aristocratic ruler should be; also anger, hope, sadness.
Klaus shook out the past.
When he had to face those eyes again, they were empty. The sparkle was gone completely and the blue darkened. That is the stare Dorian gave him now. The promise, which Klaus realized was not perverted too late, also banished and nothing but regret and hatred Klaus could see.
"I…" he failed to come up with the words.
"Please, Major, I know it's a strain on your ego, don't apologize."
Klaus kept his head down. "I'm still not use-"
"To what? You've done this four times already, making this five, I tell the butler to give you the message that I'm here and this is the first time he forgot. So, what is it then, what more do I have to do?" the coarseness in these words let Klaus know that he had been out drinking.
"No," he went to retrieve his Magnum from the diaper table. Breathed deeply. "I'm not used to you with brown hair yet and glasses."
"It's short too."
Dorian left to his bedroom. Klaus turned off the light and closed the door. His sleep came near morning.
DK*DK*DK*DK*DK*DK*DK
Dorian's hangover didn't last; he only drank enough to feel happily delusional. He did have to wait to drive and sober a bit. The agreement stayed in place, but he had to get out of the Schloss once in a while with his new acquaintances, Heinrich, Griswold, and his favorite, Colonel. Of course, that not really being the man's name, but he enjoyed being admired by the young foreigner. Colonel's name was Augustine Herrmann, a retired army man in his late fifties. Dorian took a liking to him, and would do any small favors he could for the Colonel. This did not mean that Dorian was fond of him in sex or physical attributes.
True, the Colonel had an attractive build, with grey eyes and his wrinkles made him look distinguished; he aged well, although all his hair had become white by the time he hit thirty-five, but that didn't distract from his strong jaw and olive skin-his mother being Italian and inheriting her dark complexion-the Colonel could still make knees melt and girls swoon. Dorian observed this with some interest.
Dorian wanted the Colonel for friendship, not sex, but a friend. Heinrich and Griswold were a bit more subtle in their attempts to get with Dorian, but the Colonel was fine with talking to the fake brunette. Dorian let both men down easy, that didn't stop the insistence just made it a joke amongst themselves.
Dorian loved all three men, as he loved his team…his team.
Halting that memory, he ripped off his clothes (he didn't bother to change into pajamas) and headed to the shower. It was five in the morning, but he had gotten use to not sleeping much.
The agreement Dorian and Klaus reached as Gert started to see Klaus as a stranger was for Klaus to get home at six every day, no excuses unless it was a mission, and spend time with his son. Dorian would stay out of the way, but come back for night duty for Klaus to get sleep. At first, Dorian just read a book or watched a movie on the telly. It became boring, so he went out and met the three men who made life a bit more bearable. He went out twice a week and tried to get home by midnight or earlier, for Klaus was finished with his work out by then and Gert in bed.
Dorian came out of the shower donned on clothes and headed to the kitchen. He found it much easier to dress with his new wardrobe. Most of it consisted of pants, such as loose jeans, corduroy, and khakis. The shirts were long-sleeved or three quarter length with buttons and bold colors or a striped design, like the one he chose to wear this morning that had a cowboy feel with the cloth on the shoulders and some studs for effect. He kept his old shoes, except for all the boots; he had to get rid of those. The new shoes were sneakers, which he didn't care for, but they were comfy and inconspicuous. All in all, this new attire he wore was the exact opposite, simple, clean, and tamed.
He kept his jewelry; it was rare for him to wear more than his diamond earrings.
Cook, Fraulein Huber, saw the brunette nanny enter the kitchen with his usual "Gut Morgen" and a smile that rivaled the sun. The woman did not know the master, Herr Eberbach, never saw the nanny smile. Tim O'Casey, the new nanny after the other blond one died, was a bit of a blessing to the staff as Cook knew; they did not suspect for the master to get so use to a new person, especially a Yank. It was strange that he chose a man to care for his child, but the master himself was raised by the butler and his father.
"Morgen, wie ist das Kindermadchen?"
"Ich fuhlemich ein bisschen schwach." There was also the fact that Tim spoke German well.
"Nun, wie ware es mit Wurst und Eier Wiht verklemmt Toast?"
"Wunderbar."
Cook passed the plate to Tim for him to eat.
Tim insisted the master eat with his son to have more of a bond. The staff thought of it as an easy task since the precious boy bonded with Tim on the spot after Lord-…the blond one died.
Dorian could hear Klaus tromping down to the dining hall. He had prepared Gert on his high chair and sat at the end just in case something happened. Klaus seemed to have the handle to getting all the baby mush in Gert's mouth and not on the floor, but would get impatient and yell at the staff.
Klaus sat at the head greeted by his servants. He saw Dorian at the end with his glasses on.
"Tim, I'm a bit tired this morning, come feed Gert his breakfast."
Dorian's eyebrows twitched. He didn't want to be anywhere near Klaus, hard as it is to believe now, but Gert came first above all petty hate and jealousy.
"Yes, sir," Dorian's Boston accent was flawless
Klaus ate his food passively, hardly tasting the home made yogurt and perfectly poached eggs. He felt Dorian near and wanted to tell him…what he never comprehended. He knew that he wanted to know why he had such dead eyes when around Klaus. Klaus heard the servants and other people described Dorian-Tim to others-as pleasant and with such a beautiful smile. Klaus didn't receive more than a grin when Dorian showed some joy.
From the corner of his he could see all Dorian's attention on Gert. Mein Engel. Mein kleiner Krieger.
Klaus stopped abruptly with chewing…toast he supposed, in his mouth and stared at Dorian and Gert directly. Who was I referring to?
"Major, your food is cold."
Klaus didn't look.
"I'm taking Gert upstairs. Have a good day." Dorian picked Gert up; placed the boy's head near Klaus. "Kiss Daddy good bye."
Klaus came back. He planted a gentle kiss on Gert's chestnut hair. "My little fighter," he whispered. On his way to work, Klaus knew who Engel was.
DK*DK*DK*DK*DK*
The Alphabets saw the change in their boss. He yelled less, didn't smoke as often and he seemed more sympathetic with personal problems, especially involving the agents with young children. For the new agents and the old this change came as a shock, a mental breakdown and a blessing from Iron Klaus, Scurge of NATO, Fear of KGB with his mighty green glare.
Some, though happy, also found this as a sign of Doomsday.
A, B, G, and Z were the ones sensing calamity. Of course, it is good for the Major to finally have a child of his own; he still had the world at his hands with secrets and a conflict of duty to family and his job. The fear was unspoken, but felt. Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach quitting!
Unspeakble. Impossible. Probable.
Agents A and B were more outraged by this private fear than others. Both men it seemed had to fight tooth and nail just to have some time for their family, never wanting to quit their job, just needing a break. There was always the threat of Alaska, having already went to the place it did not seem so horrible a fate.
But now, NOW, the Iron has come to a stop and it might disappear.
DK*DK*DK*DK*
Tim spent his day tending to the young master Gert. The older staff, such as Cook, wondered what could Master Eberbach had been thinking when adopting a child of another origin, deplete of any German background; as the months rolled by, all members of the Schloss gave in to the dark-skinned, dimpled, bouncing baby. So what if he wasn't German by birth? The boy would grow, love, speak, and work the German way of life. What more could be asked.
Although, the mystery of Tim existed.
Tim's appearance after the first-rest his soul-left was disconcerting to the Schloss and its staff, but he proved to have the master's and Gert's best interest. His German though accented was crystal clear-like the blonde one, all knew not to think his name- and he was always patient, friendly and kind to everyone. Tim even would help with some remedial housework as Gert slept.
He was trustworthy, too, something that the new butler, Hans, had found odd because he had yet to receive any amiability-as it is known for the staff-from the master, and Tim the Yank-Nanny was allowed one of the cars to take Gert out, which he did every day during the warm season.
Tim O'Casey: who are you?
