A/N – Short little ditty written when I should have been studying for my finals on Wednesday night. Just got around to typing it now. And I'm on vacation for a month! So I should be writing a fair amount during this time… I am hoping to have the next Devil's Harlot chapter out BEFORE Christmas, as it is a Christmas chapter.

Radu and Isaak have a conversation about Dietrich. PG. No POV. References to IxD, SxR and RxD, maybe even Radu and Ion too. No Isaak and Radu unless you're REALLY looking, which I won't stop you from doing. Because I personally find the idea of them as a pair funny.

The Ifrit and the Guillotine

By PikaCheeka

Isaak listened to them shout at one another for another moment or two before sighing heavily and stamping out his cigarillo. There was no point in even trying to work when they were doing this, and he gets up and moves across the room to the open door.

"Barvon?"

There was immediate silence, then Dietrich erupting into laughter. "That's what you get for teasing me, Radu!" Isaak could hear him clap his hands in delight and Radu snarl at him. But when the young Methuselah slipped into his office, his fear was palpable. He bowed quickly and backed against the wall. Isaak noticed that his uniform was unkempt, likely because Dietrich was clinging to him.

"He's irritating, isn't he?" Isaak asked quietly after a long moment.

The younger Methuselah started "I – excuse me?" He was going to be killed, wasn't he? The Panzer Magier was utterly mad. Everyone knew that.

"Sit down."

Radu obeyed, not knowing what else to do, and gingerly took the cigarillo being offered from Isaak's fingers. He preferred quick, simple cigarettes. Ones you could smoke in minutes if you really tried. But he wasn't about to object. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Light them both." Isaak leaned forward slightly, curious. Radu Barvon's fire fascinated him; he had never known a real ifrit before. It was a pity the Empire did not recognize the boy's talent, being as low-born as he was. There was no respect for magic any longer.

Radu felt himself blush, but he again obeyed. He felt clumsy, inept, in front of the one who was possibly the greatest magus in the world, and he was relieved when the blue flames sprung up gently. When he was nervous, he wasn't always so well-controlled.

"You really are an ifrit."

"Yes." He was taken aback by Isaak's interest in him.

"You should be proud of that, not embarrassed. For all of my ability I must still resort to alchemy and technology to create fire like that." He hadn't planned on saying so much, but the look on the younger Methuselah's face pleased him. Radu Barvon looked surprised, frightened, and arrogant all at once, and Isaak suspected he had never been praised before. "I'm sorry about Dietrich." He quickly changed the subject.

Radu shrugged. "I try to put up with him."

"He likes you." Isaak put it bluntly.

The ifrit jumped, startled. So he was going to be killed, after all. That was why Isaak had been so careless in divulging his secrets. "I…"

"I know he does. It isn't your fault. He's just like that." The magus waved his hand carelessly. "You've slept with him, haven't you?"

Radu felt something inside of him collapse. Yes, yes, he had slept with Dietrich. More than once. He'd had sex with Isaak von Kampfer's lover. Had invaded, violated, his property. He almost didn't hear the magus going on.

"You don't need to lie. I can smell you on him. I find your fang marks on his body. And those nights he's always shy and ashamed when I touch him."

"Sorry." It was all he could say. Isaak's words were too intimate and he blushed. He wondered dully what it would be like to die.

"He seduces you, makes you do it, doesn't he? You top him but he still forces you into it." Isaak was smiling faintly, unable to help but imagine how it all played out. Radu wasn't unattractive by any means.

He was met with sudden laughter. "This is my last smoke, isn't it?"

Isaak frowned now. "Why would it be?"

Radu only stared at the guillotine cigar cutter on the desk. "You're going to kill me."

"For banging a slut?" The words seemed strange coming from his mouth, but he was unable to get the image from his mind and he felt dirty.

"He's not though." The words came out too fast for Radu. Why was he defending him?

Isaak narrowed his eyes. "He seduces every male he meets. You're not the first, nor will you be the last. You just happen to have lasted longer than most." Then he smiled and again changed his tone. "I suppose it's my fault for not raising him better."

The younger Methuselah was tempted to reply that to raise a Terran child to be your bed slave certainly wasn't the best way to go about things, but he refrained. "He loves you." He blurted out instead.

"He's always been a bit stupid."

He had to smile at that. It never occurred to him that Dietrich might be stupid, but now that he thought on it, it only made sense. He was brilliant intellectually, but there was something childishly moronic about him all the same. "Perhaps." He finally whispered.

"Only idiots fall in love." Isaak flicked the ashes and studied the ifrit intently. Curious as to how he would react. He didn't know so much about Radu's life, but the answer surprised him.

"Only those who have fallen in love would say that." His eyes were flashing and he looked defensive, even angry.

Stamping out his smoke, the magus laughed. "You're not as dumb as you look, Flamberg. I could come to like you."

Radu shifted in his seat uneasily. He still didn't trust Isaak not to kill him, but his fear was now fading. There seemed to be nothing untoward in the Magier's words, but he didn't know how to respond to them nevertheless.

"Do you want to move?" Isaak asked suddenly.

"Move?"

"Dietrich is best for this mission, but I suppose we could put you with someone else instead. He does seem to be having more fun than usual harassing you."

Radu hesitated and bit his lip. His first impulse was to say yes, but he suspected Dietrich would throw a fit upon hearing the news. He knew very well that besides the magus, he was the only one who didn't openly despise the human. And after all, hadn't he held him while he cried and railed against the world often enough? He remembered the way Dietrich's fragile body felt, shivering in his arms after the act which he never seemed to enjoy. But Radu, too, had been abused under an older man, and he understood Dietrich's anxieties. "No. I don't mind him so much." He finally sighed, unsure of why he said it still. He would love to get away from the boy, but he couldn't bring himself to leave him all the same.

"He gets under your skin, doesn't he?"

"A little." Radu didn't quite know what he meant and supposed a vague answer was best.

Isaak sighed suddenly. He couldn't control Dietrich any longer. He wasn't a child anymore, but Isaak strongly suspected he was falling apart, turning to anyone for solace when he should instead be confronting him. He was all that mattered. Was all that should matter. He bared his teeth slightly. "Could you call him in?"

The ifrit stood quickly. So he wasn't going to be killed? That was unusual, but he wouldn't argue it.

"You can come back if you ever wish to talk."

He tensed, then smiled. He took it that he was no longer needed. "Thank you." His voice sounded weak, as the relief was flooding him.

"I'd like to take you apart and see how an ifrit works." He said it so nonchalantly that Radu was at the door before the full impact of the words hit him.

"Panzer Magier!" he felt cold. This man was mad.

Isaak only smiled and shrugged. I jest. Calm down. No wonder Di likes to tease you."

Radu Barvon didn't reply. There was something off about the older Methuselah, and he sincerely doubted he was only, as he claimed, jesting. He stepped back into the hall without another word. "Von Lohengrin?"

Dietrich, who had been sitting on the couch playing a video game, immediately looked up. "Oooooh! You're still alive!" He looked disappointed, but Radu could see what almost looked like relief in his eyes before he quickly hid it.

"Yes, I am, and the magus wishes to see you in his office now." He maintained a calmness he didn't feel.

Dietrich shrank back slightly before getting up and brushing past him. Radu could see him trembling, and he caught the words whispered in his ear, "Isaak's always wanted an ifrit to play with." And all he felt was a horrific coldness.