Los Angeles was not quite giving its denizens the blistering heat it so often produced, and yet in the early spring between February and March, it was still quite warm. The smog and warmth mixed in the air and produced the acrid smell that most living there, at this point, were so used to that it was hardly intolerable compared to the dense smoke that filled the air in the summer months. The smog gave the four o'clock sky an orange glow as the sun was ready to make its descent.
Klaus had a massive headache. It was agitated by the beating heat, the glaring sun and the thick smell of pollution, and further more by his growling stomach and overall simmering irritation at the whole circumstance of his mission. He was in America, one of the countries he hated being in most out of all--second to perhaps England, though at that moment, he would have welcomed being in any part of the damned isle. Los Angeles to him so far had been like a glaring, ugly stain of land that hurt his eyes to look at.
The people all around him were fat slobs--even the children. Those who weren't tourists in shorts and t-shirts had smug looks on their tanned faces. He realized just where that asinine smugness came from; he had asked a man with piercing white teeth and bleached blond hair what freeway he had to take to get to the Los Angeles Police Department, and the man instead tried to make small talk about what celebrities Klaus could see along the way, and exactly who the man had seen himself.
Cars were packed onto the roads, and they stayed at a complete stop for what seemed like forever in traffic. The immense traffic allowed Klaus to further scan the city, and he found that LA perhaps was more a massive freeway than a city. The walls they would occasionally pass were dirtied with graffiti from top to bottom. He knew Los Angeles had a crime problem, and it was only made more obvious as he finally entered the city itself.
Outside the LAPD, a homeless man wandered around it, shirtless and toothless with a ragged beard. As he entered the building, he saw the department was full to bursting with activity. It was busy enough that he had to wait some time to even talk to someone, and then had to wait more when he was brushed off, his NATO presence apparently a second priority to the various criminals pouring in. Though the station was busy, he also felt it might have been the American--or, perhaps, distinctly Californian--lax way of procrastination. Those who spoke to him sounded far too relaxed or blatantly rude for his liking, either telling him to "chill out," or tersely telling him to sit down and wait as if he were a child.
As he brooded this, he and Z stood outside a restaurant in Chinatown, and had been doing so for at least half an hour.
"He's late," Klaus said through gritted teeth.
Z seemed to have to wake himself up a bit, but was quickly at attention, "Did he specify a time?" The Agent scratched his light blond head for a moment and stared at his watch blankly.
"He said four o'clock. Or, rather, those bumblers at the LAPD said four o'clock." Klaus began another cigarette, and in an attempt to mollify his irritation, asked Z for the case file. He scowled down at it. Bardolph Schaefer, a suspect of terrorist acts committed in Berlin. He had been under fierce watch by NATO, and as soon as he made the move to the United States, the FBI. He closed the file with a sigh. "Have A and B called in yet?"
Z perked up again and nodded, "They said they have more intel on Schaefer now. He apparently has been using false names from state to state--he goes by Lee Wolfgram, here."
"Who reported him missing?"
"Ted Mertz; we still have more to gather on him. All the agents here knew was that Schaefer had been living with him for a couple of months before he disappeared."
Klaus dropped his cigarette and stomped it on the ground. "He's probably just left the state again. He'd have to be an idiot not to know we've been trailing him all this time."
"Ja. Although, Mertz didn't report anything in particular. He only said that they had gotten into a dispute, and Schaefer--or should I say Wolfgram--disappeared for about three days before Mertz called in."
Klaus scoffed, crushing the cigarette box before he threw it into a nearby garbage bin. "Bloody balls up for the LAPD. They could've done a background check on him before plunging head first into an investigation. Should have been damn easy when the FBI had a list of names he uses."
"They probably didn't suspect they would have to, since he was the victim in this case."
"Our agents here had to call us. The LAPD should have done that themselves."
Their conversation fell, but Z took it up again a moment later, holding his chin, "Schaefer has always been under our watch. He can't have managed to simply disappear. We've never had enough to convict him of his crimes, but he's always been traceable enough to trail and keep track of."
"True enough. It says a damn lot when they need us to come in, that's for sure. He's either pulled something shrewd or there's foul play involved." Their conversation fell, and they allowed the crowd to overtake their silence.
Klaus scowled at the statue of the Chinese lion behind him, which scowled right back with snarling teeth. His stare wandered around Chinatown, keeping his eyes sharp for any sign of his contact. The area seemed to murmur with life as crowds of people walked the streets, the noise occasionally penetrated by a colorful language he did not immediately recognize, then realized it could only be Cantonese. He could smell the savory Chinese food, wafting out of the restaurant behind him. Some of the buildings around him boasted dark red or brown colors, with sloping roofs and ornate designs etched into their frames. Paper lanterns flew overhead on wires, without their glow as they wafted in the air. He watched as crowds of people walked into shops. He noticed that those shops often sold the same damn thing to the wide-eyed and gullible tourists, such as little figurines of Buddha or dragons, oriental looking dolls and Chinese wooden toys. Even the larger shops had them, only then even larger statues of Buddha or dragons.
Still, even if he knew it was all a tourist trap, the area did have a vibrance that the rest of Los Angeles, it seemed to him, seemed to lack. There was something distinctly synthetic about the Hollywood areas, and it was far too gritty in the entire rest of the city. Chinatown seemed to have more authenticity, at least, whenever he saw a Chinese man with crooked teeth pass by or heard irate Cantonese tumbling out of the restaurant behind him. The sense of mystique there was also palpable--even for Klaus. The closed doors of the more ornate buildings, and the strange looks he swore some of the locals gave him just being some of the elements that made something in the back of his head itch and nag.
The sky was darkening, shadows growing, and Klaus watched as lanterns began to glow and street lamps flickered on. The crowd had thinned somewhat, and Klaus heard a lot more activity from the restaurant behind him.
"Is that him?"
Klaus perked up, following Z's eyes. He scanned the crowd, finding no one that particularly stood out. "Who?" he asked, still searching, finding only a load of Americans in t-shirts and jeans.
"The man walking toward us," Z said, nodding his head in the direction.
"That can't be him."
Klaus scowled at the man, who scowled right back. The man was dressed far too casually in a pair of white slacks, with a loud, colorful t-shirt. Over it was a white sports jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was messily tied back in a blond ponytail, and his eyes were covered with a heavy pair of black sunglasses. A sharp contrast to the Major's stringent grey suit, which he still stubbornly wore in spite of the day's heat, fearing that the Californian inertia would infect him like a bug if he left himself exposed. Though his own hair was long, his dark locks were kept strictly combed and at his shoulder.
The man took out a file from under his arm and looked at it, carefully reading out loud, "Major Klause Eberrback?" he scratched the back of his head, looking up at the two.
Klaus' eyes widened, almost in a permanent state. He didn't think he had ever heard such bastardization of his name.
Z was first to address the man, "You're Detective Leon Orcot?"
The man smirked and nodded, "Yeah, sorry I'm late."
"By more than an hour." Klaus finally said.
Leon raised an eyebrow, his smirk getting a bit tighter on his face. "Yeah, like I said, sorry about that. LA traffic is a bitch." He looked back down at his file, taking off his sunglasses and slipping them into a pocket of his jacket. "Which one of you is Eberrback?"
"Major."
"What?"
Klaus scowled deeply, "Don't use my last name," when Leon simply answered with an 'oh,' Klaus plowed on, "It's von dem Eberbach, just in case you must say it again."
Leon blinked, looking back down at his papers. "Oh, you say the 'von dem?' I thought it was like your middle name or something."
Before the Major could retort, Z cleared his throat, "Major, I'll see what more A and B have intel on. They're at the hotel."
"Dismissed, Z." Klaus said, and the agent walked off quickly.
"A? Z? Your agents don't have names or anything?" Leon said, his blue eyes following Z for a moment.
"I assign my agents by letters."
"Right," Leon had begun to pick his ear with a single finger, causing Klaus to grimace. Leon checked his watch, "Better get going."
Klaus followed him as Leon began to walk. Leon stuck his hands in his pocket as he lumbered down the street while Klaus walked briskly and with intent, almost passing Leon along the way.
"You in a hurry?" Leon asked with a raised eyebrow, running to catch up.
Klaus sent him a piercing look, "I've waited for nearly an hour. I have no intention of sauntering my way through the mission I've been given."
Leon frowned, "You don't even know where we're going."
"Then kindly inform me," Klaus said, not stopping his rapid pace.
Leon's lips went tight, his scowl darkening as he began to move in longer strides. He took the hands out of his pockets and began moving his arms with his legs, nearly at a jog to keep up with Klaus' pace. "Gladly. Mertz mentioned Wolfgram had visited a pet shop around here--a little before they had their argument." His own pace dulled for a moment, "And that's all red flags to me."
Klaus came to a screeching halt, his eyes wide. "A... pet shop." At Leon's nod, Klaus felt the blood under his skin boil. "You're taking me to a bloody pet shop?!"
"Hey, it's a lead, isn't it?! Plus, I know what it sounds like--"
"I'm not here to investigate trivial connections to this case. You were to show me suspects to the possible crime involved--"
"That's what I'm doing!" Some people walking on the streets had either stopped to look or walked by much faster, but neither man noticed. "This isn't your mom and pop shop full of hamsters and fish, or even a fuckin' PetCo. The guy that runs it is real suspicious."
Klaus blinked, his mouth straight, "A... pet shop."
Leon rolled his eyes, starting to walk again, "Shit, like I said, I know what it sounds like! Believe me, I've gotten enough crap from everyone in the LAPD about it already. But you'll know as soon as you see this guy that he's trouble."
Klaus followed him, now at a slower pace. His headache was tight and hot in his head, making him dizzy for a split second. As he contemplated seeing a doctor, he heard only blips of what Leon had said. "Instinct is one thing," he said, shaking himself out of pained stupor, "It's not something reliable enough to prosecute."
"God, don't I know it," Leon shoved his hands into his pockets, "This guy's given me enough trouble as it is already. He's like fucking Houdini though. I can't get anything on him, even though he's always there when the worst of the city's crimes fall into my lap. Murders--real ruthless ones--disappearances, and I think he's got some kind of drug and child slavery shit going on. None of it is good stuff."
Klaus grunted, only half listening, "A member of the Chinese mafia?"
Leon snorted, "He's definitely got connections."
"But you say he runs a pet shop. Is it a front?"
Leon stopped for a moment, "No... well, I can't really say," he started walking again, scowling as he seemed to think, "He's not like the guy that sells knock-off Versace down the street from my apartment--he actually knows his stuff about animals. He gets all sorts of customers. Lot of rich folks, middle-class, kids..."
"So, he runs a well-respected establishment."
"No! That's only what it seems like!" Leon growled, "It's not a normal pet shop, and he's not selling normal pets. People have been killed, and he's never mournful about it." Leon seemed to want to rant on, but quieted down as he looked around, "We're almost there."
The sky was now a dark blue from the glow of the street lamps, though Klaus noticed that as they walked further, the light from lanterns rather replaced the street lamps. It gave the whole street a more surreal glow, making it harder to see clearly and easier to see shadows that trick eyes.
They turned a final corner and walked onward toward an ornate building, the roof of the building creating a shadow over its closed doors. A purple sign was posted at its side, reading in gold letters, "Count D's Pet Shop."
"This is a pet shop?" Klaus asked as he stared up at the sign.
"Like I said, not your mom and pop kind of place." Leon opened the door, not seeing Klaus jump with a start.
Klaus followed him down, bracing himself tight. His nerves were on edge and he didn't like it at all--but he would never let some shadows and dark places scare him. And yet as they went down a wide flight of stares with only a dim glow from sconces to light their way, Klaus realized his feelings then were all so different than what he had ever had before. In a gunfight or in the presence of a bomb, he was in his element. He logically knew that if he did one thing wrong, he or someone else could end up dead. He was in complete control with that in mind, and he could act calmly. This, however, was a different matter. Somehow the echoes that resonated from their steps were more than simply noise in an eerie silence--they were an invasion on the barely kept chaos within, challenging whatever lie there. The darkness was its own presence, the shadows he and Leon flung on the wall seemingly a stark comparison to the shadows residing by the stairs, in the cracks on the wall and those that melted with the darkness.
Klaus berated himself. He was beginning to think like an idiot who had read too many ghost stories. He lived in a castle all of his life; what was some empty darkness to him? Perhaps, because it wasn't quite an empty darkness. Klaus stopped to grimace, his body coiling. "Mein Gott. What is that stench?!"
Leon snorted, "Reeks, don't it? It's incense. The guy loads his customers up with it, I suspect."
All around them, the powerful smell of incense and perfume felt thick. The scent was so pungent it was hard to discern the exact smell of it--whether it was sweet or bitter, or what kind of flower or herb it was, Klaus couldn't tell, only feeling his already throbbing headache be further agitated by the powerful smell. Now the smell combined with the darkness made Klaus dizzy. The smell seemed to penetrate passed his nostrils and into his head. Yet he noticed Leon was visibly unaffected by all of these elements. He walked faster than Klaus now, though with the same saunter he had on the street, not even regarding the environment.
Seeing this, Klaus plunged forward just as Leon did, catching up to his pace. "Do these stairs ever end?" just as Klaus had said it, the stairs indeed ended and they were facing another door. Leon opened it wide and barged in.
Klaus squinted as light pierced through, but was immediately relieved by the presence of it. The cement floor ended as Klaus walked onto a wooden floor and then a dark carpet. Klaus scrunched his nose up immediately at the room.
"Vile." Klaus said under his breath. The room was even more pungent with the smell of incense, but what was now more powerful to Klaus was the decor. Rich reds and browns and royal purple, laced with delicate pinks and shining gold made up much of the colors. There was a large, dark red sofa in the very middle, with pink curtains billowing and flowing over it, with dark green and blue pillows were thrown on it. There was an oriental, ornate lounging chair, of almost black wood with a pea green cushion and pink pillows with gold tassels. They were next to more chairs of equal softness, and they all surrounded a dark wood tea table, low to the ground and shining under the bright light of the room. Vases sat on oriental end tables to the wall, and plants fanned over with the gold and pink curtains of the room. Klaus mouth was set in firm disdain. "This is more a brothel than a pet shop."
"You may even be right about that," Leon said.
But the shop obviously had pets--what seemed like hundreds. Some were in cages, either normal metal cages, or ones that were made out of bamboo or wood. Birds of various colors and sizes sat either inside or outside the cages, all eerily silent as they merely pruned themselves or stared at Klaus and Leon. Macaws standing on their perches with their rainbow wings, parakeets all in one gold cage, a peacock raining its huge colorful feathers down the back of a chair, and birds so wild and exotic looking that Klaus couldn't possibly know what they were. Dogs and cats roamed around, looking up intently at Klaus and Leon, or yawning as they went back to sleep. The cats were silky and lanky to long-haired and downy, their eyes bright and piercing. Rodents and the occasional lizard came by or lazed under the dim glow of the lights. The place seemed infested with animals, most of them loose and out of their cages and wandering about, many piling onto couches and the sofa.
"How does he keep this place so clean? There's vermin everywhere," he scowled down at a white rabbit, which stared back with large pink eyes.
"Who knows. He's the only one who works here." Leon went across the room towards the sofa, promptly plopping down on it and ignoring as a few dozen animals scrambled away as his weight dented the cushions. "I've never seen anyone in here sell animals except him." As Klaus scowled at him, he scowled back, "What?"
Klaus served him a dry look, raising his eyebrow, "You seem comfortable here."
"Yeah. The place is creepy at first but I'm kind of used to it," when Klaus was back to his scowl, Leon tensed up, "What?!"
Klaus at last scoffed, "Incompetence seems to run rampant in the LAPD."
"Incompetent?!" Leon shot up, "Hey, Mr. Big Shot NATO Officer, or whatever the hell. Just 'cause you've got some nameless agents under your finger doesn't mean you get to be an ass to me, all right?"
Klaus' eyes widened, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me! You've been an ass to me this whole time."
Klaus was in front of Leon in an instant, a few lucky animals just barely making it out of his way. Klaus was not happy to find that he was not only just barely taller than Leon by mere centimeters, but also that his signature glare was not waning Leon's own, but perhaps agitating it further.
He growled, "Don't make any assumptions about your position. You're a small-time detective. You have no say in this case, and you're in no position to criticize or insult me--and believe me, you don't want to do either of that anyway." He felt meager satisfaction at seeing Leon shrink somewhat, but it only lasted for a moment.
Leon puffed up his chest, "First come, first serve," a smirk glided across his face, "You're not getting rid of me that easy, if that was your idea."
It was Klaus' turn to smirk, "I'm afraid that's not how it works. This is my mission--and the only reason I'm in this bloody city is to see to it. The likes of you won't be getting in my way of it."
"Oh, that's not my intention at all, Major Klaus ven dom Eberbach," he either ignored or did not notice Klaus wince, "I'm here to helpyou, after all."
"You idiot!" Klaus bit out, "You've already done enough to hinder me by showing up late and opening your big mouth."
He shrugged, his chin rising, "All I'm saying is, you're not scaring me away from this case by being a total dick. I won't let a government suit push me around."
Klaus shook with anger, but a voice from behind a curtain dispelled what he had meant to say.
"A customer?" the placid voice slithered out. The first thing Klaus saw was a red lipped smile as a lithe figure came into view. Dressed in an ornate, silk oriental gown and silk pants, what Klaus assumed first to be a woman came into few, long nails grasping at the curtain, a delicate and pale face smiling pleasantly. However, the voice had a slightly male tone to it, so Klaus could only assume that the person was Count D. As he stepped closer to him and Leon, piercing, bi-colored eyes of gold and purple quickly contradicted any assumptions Klaus had about the man's fragile appearance, replacing it with a much more cunning facade.
The smile D held was quickly broken into a scowl as his eyes roamed to Leon. "Oh, it's just you, Detective. What is it that I've done now?"
Leon scowled, "That's what I'm here to find out.
D rolled his eyes, "As usual." D then scanned Klaus, his red lips curling into a smile once more, "And you've brought another guest, I see."
"Major Klaus von dem Eberbach of NATO," Klaus said.
"German, I see," D said, "And nobility, too. I'm honored."
Klaus' scowl furthered, "Detective Orcot says you've served a man named Wolfgram. Is this true?"
D sighed, "I see you're here on business. But please, do wait a moment." D wandered over to one of the chairs, "Perhaps have some tea?"
"I didn't come here for tea. I'm here on official NATO business, not for a damn visit!"
D frowned at Leon, "It seems you've met your match, Mr. Detective," he turned back to the Major, "I assure you, I'll answer any questions you have, but it's been a long day--I'd like to settle down, first."
Before Klaus could object, D slunk off into another room. Klaus let go of the shudder he had been restraining. "Disgusting. I couldn't tell if he was a man or a woman."
Leon shrugged, "Never seen a tranny before? Although he insists it's not a dress..." Klaus did not feel the need to relay him about Agent G, who had grown an affinity for cross-dressing after a mission in Greece, and so remained silent. Leon fell back onto the sofa, "He does this all the time, so you may as well relax."
"I'm not so flexible as you."
Leon scowled, "Believe me, I'm not."
D slid back into the room, now carrying a tray with a tea pot and tea cups, and what seemed to Klaus an offensive amount of cakes and biscuits.
"Telling the Major horrible things about me, Detective?" D placed the tray on the table and settled down into an armchair. He looked over at Klaus, his eyes lidded and his eyebrows lofty with inquisition. "You're free to sit down, Major. Have some tea, please."
"I prefer standing."
"Whatever you wish."
"Can I smoke in here?"
"I'd rather you not, I'm afraid." Count D sipped some tea slowly. While D was showing a great deal of delicacy in drinking his tea, Klaus could already see that two thirds of the cakes he had brought in were missing. Then again, Leon had easily helped himself to the dish.
"Wolfgram." Klaus said.
"What's that?"
"Did you serve a man named Wolfgram?" Leon said, then roughly wiped cream from his mouth, almost as if it were an attempt to erase the evidence of him slacking off.
D's eyes rolled up to the ceiling, blinking several times and bringing a long-nailed finger up to his chin. "I don't quite remember. I'm almost sure I haven't, however."
"Ha! You're lying," Leon slammed a fist onto the table, making both D and several animals jump at the noise.
D huffed, scowling, "Really, Detective, do control yourself."
"Wolfgram was here! We have a witness who told us so."
"Who is Wolfgram? Tell me that, Detective, and I may be less in the dark than I am as of now."
"He's the guy me and him are looking for."
D sighed, "That really helps." he frowned excessively, "I suppose he may have come by, but I've had so many customers that it's just so hard to say."
Leon growled, "Quit playing ignorant! Tell me what he bought! What time did he come by? Didn't anything stick out to you or anything?!"
"Really, you can't expect me to remember that much." D almost smiled, but quickly brought his tea to his lips to cover it.
Klaus finally penetrated the scene, the scowl on his face now set firm. "Wolfgram--about my height, well-built, dark hair, tan complexion, grey eyes, a scar on his left cheek. He was a customer here."
D looked up at him, his eyes lidded and a smile again on his face, "That's much better." He paused again to think, resting his face on his hand. "I suppose he did come by. Is that all you wanted to know?" He looked up at Klaus, his gaze still lazy. Klaus' look on him darkened, his glare concentrated fully on D's contemptuous, red-lipped smirk. As Klaus' look intensified, D's smile only widened. "I'm sure that look scares many people, Major, but I'm used to bullies," D broke his eye contact with Klaus to glare at Leon.
Klaus' own concentration didn't break. "I'm tired. I'm hot. I have a migraine. I'm annoyed as hell and it stinks like a dirty brothel in here. I can be a much crueler bully than Detective Orcot, I assure you."
D's look sharpened, "You may be a bit more dedicated to the job than the Detective, but bullies come in all of the same colors. Not to mention I feel you're very out of place to threaten a civilian, Major."
Klaus growled, "And you're out of place for not cooperating in the first place! I'm not here for tea and cakes--I want answers!"
D sighed, a scowl falling on his face, "Fine. I suppose that will get you both out of here faster--I'm expecting a client soon and I don't want two barbarians tearing apart my store." He sat back on his chair, stroking a pure white cat that had leaped up into his lap, "As I said, he did come here. I sold him a dog--he said he wanted it for protection. He left satisfied with his purchase." D's face relaxed and his eyes landed back on the Major. "Detective Orcot does rather have the tendency to pin the blame on me, wouldn't you say?"
Klaus' eyes wheeled over to Leon, who immediately leaped out of his seat, "Bullshit, D! I always come here because you're always involved--"
"Yes, yes. I hope you enjoyed my tea and cakes--you've seemed to have taken advantage of them--but I really must ask for you and the Major to leave now. As I said, my client should be here in any minute." He looked up at the clock, "In fact he's running a bit late..." he got up from his seat, the cat leaping off of his lap as he stood, "Good day, gentlemen. It was lovely to meet you, Major von dem Eberbach." He slipped out of the front door, closing it with a slam.
Klaus looked sharply down at Leon, "You'll grow a paunch from all of those cakes."
Leon scowled, "That guy... shit. He never gives me a straight answer."
Klaus raised an eyebrow, "His story was quite straight, Detective. It only took a bloody amount of waiting to get it." He looked at the door D went through, "He's suspicious all on his own, but not about this. I think he just enjoys getting a rise out of you, and you're quick to reciprocate."
"Damn it! He always does this! He ends up making me look like the idiot to escape any blame from himself!"
"If you're implying that he holds any power over me, you'd be wrong. He makes my skin crawl." Klaus shuddered once more, "He's obviously a degenerate--a depraved one at that."
"Doesn't matter. You still fell for his tricks."
"Wrong again. You've just made your argument utterly unconvincing. You seem obsessed with this man more than he seems to be a murderer or a kidnapper."
Leon growled, ruffling up his messy blond hair, "Can't you see?! He obviously knew what we came here to ask about--that's why he said he didn't remember who Wolfgram was!"
Klaus massaged his forehead, closing his eyes. "Instinct alone won't help us. Prove it to me and you may change my mind."
"I will!" Leon rose up from his seat on the sofa.
Klaus rolled his eyes. "Do that, then. Are we done here?"
Leon stiffened, then let his posture drop. "Yeah, I guess."
Klaus led the way to the door. He stopped as he heard a wealth of noise muffled from behind it. He and Leon both waited in front of the door as the noise drew closer, until it was distinguishable as a loud conversation.
The dark door swung open. Count D came in, brushing passed the two, flashing them both a small frown. Klaus had paused to watch the man, only to turn back to the door, his look automatically cracking into horror filled.
"You..."
All at once, three voices spoke.
"Nooooooo!!"
"Erk..."
"Major! What a pleasant surprise!"
A tall man walked into the light, watching Klaus with dancing blue eyes. The man's eyes were wide, as if surprised, but there was no other hint of shock in his demeanor, his walk a smooth glide and his posture confident. A river of golden curls fell from his head, pouring down to the top of his back. He wore a sleeveless striped shirt, unbuttoned to reveal much of his chest, and tight denim pants that gathered into knee-high, black leather boots.
"It's been far too long," the man had a lilting British accent, smiling as the Major still stood in shocked silence.
Klaus' silence was demolished in a blink of an eye. "What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking thief?!" Klaus had become utterly rigid, seeming to be holding himself back against the man. Leon shrank back a bit, stepping back to D's side.
"Who the hell is that, D?" he asked under his breath.
D's eyes were wide as saucers at the interaction between the new man and Klaus, "Lord Dorian Red Gloria, Earl of Gloria."
"Is he British?"
D raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes.
"Milord!" a shrill voice said, still in the dark of the door, "You said he wouldn't be here in a thousand years! Why is he here?!"
"Aye, I reckon we just have that kind of luck, Jamesie," a stout man with a mustache came out of the door, sticking to the wall farthest away from Klaus, behind Dorian.
Dorian flashed a dazzling smile, "Yes, Major, do tell us why you're here! I'm endlessly curious. Perhaps you came in hopes of catching a glimpse at a Hollywood star? Treating the Alphabets to a tour around Chinatown, perhaps?"
"Shut up! I asked first, you insufferable imbecile."
"I should think it's obvious," Dorian tipped his head, letting his hair tumble over his shoulders, "I'm here for a pet."
D's voice floated into the interaction, a frown on his face, "Major, may I ask why you're treating my client so harshly? If you have a dispute to settle, I'd rather you both take it outside."
Dorian slid further into the room, his eye contact with the Major breaking instantly as he faced D. "Oh, no, Count. He has always been this harsh to me. I've suffered hell from this man from the day we first met," as he said this, he looked back to Klaus, his eyes glittering.
"Bloody bollocks. It's you who has given me hell. You and all of your henchmen," he glowered at the stout man and the still open door both.
Dorian gave D an apologetic look, "What am I to do with him, I wonder?" his eyes wandered over to Leon, another brilliant smile blooming on his face, "Who is this? Major, a friend of yours? I thought you detested Americans..."
D sighed, "That's only Detective Leon Orcot, Lord Gloria. He's apparently working with the Major, here."
"I see! How wonderful." He looked back at Klaus, whose look was now permanently at a frown and scowl, "I dare say, he looks a good deal like Z, don't you think?"
Klaus bristled up, his eyes widening, "Don't tell me of your perverted observations, you sick degenerate!"
"I was only saying. Don't be jealous." As Leon seemed to be hit with a huge wave of wide-eyed realization, D covered his face to cough into his hand. "Haven't I proven myself devoted after all of these years? I only have eyes for you."
"You idiotic--" Klaus stopped short as a wail pierced through. It came from the dark hallway, making all in the room either jump or grimace.
A pale, small man dressed in a patched up suit came from the door at last, rushing up to Lord Gloria with tears in his eyes--well, one eye, as the other was hidden by a mop of black hair. "Milord, you know how much I hate it when you say such things!"
"Gentlemen, since there appears to be no problem..." D stepped into the middle of the fray, "Major, Detective Orcot, I believe you two were leaving."
"Right," Leon said, scowling at D.
Klaus didn't budge, simply looking hard at Dorian, who looked back with a smile. "You'd better not get in my way."
Dorian held his hands up in defense, "Never!"
"You know bloody well you have before!"
"Well, I have no business with you here. I didn't even know you were here, as I said. I don't know how I could possibly deter you--Los Angeles is so large of a city, after all."
Klaus huffed through his nose, "If I hear about any robberies--"
"Robberies?" Dorian laughed, his eyes quickly glancing at both of his servants, "Did you hear that, Bonham? How silly." The stout man smiled and nodded, though it was faulted as he looked on at the Major with still as much nervousness as before. "I assure you, Major, Count D's shop is by no stretch of the imagination so beyond my finances that I must stoop to criminal acts."
"Are you mocking me--" Klaus was again interrupted by James, who had perked up, all traces of tears gone from his face.
"Speaking of finances," he addressed D, taking out a massive and well beat-up calculator, "Just how much is a pet, here?"
D shrank back, "Uh, we'll discuss that later..."
"Why the hell are you interested in a pet now, anyway?" Klaus asked Dorian, "Tired of paintings and statues?"
"Hardly." Dorian turned to look around the room, his eyes developing a glaze, "I've heard of the famous Count D before. I've only decided now may be the time to seek his service--only his pet shop is worthy of my tastes, after all. They say you can find your hearts desire, here."
D smiled, but it was quickly faulted as Klaus snorted. "You're only looking to show off."
Dorian laughed, eyes lids veiling over, "You're as adorably straight forward as ever, Major."
"Let's go," Klaus said and turned around at break neck speed, not waiting for Leon to even react before darting out of the room.
Leon ran to the door, only to look back at Dorian and the group.
"It was wonderful meeting you, Detective," Dorian said.
Leon scowled, eyes snapping from D to Dorian, "Watch your ass around here, Earl. Some people don't come out of this shop alive."
Dorian's eyebrows raised while D rolled his eyes, looking at Leon sideways, "The Detective likes his ghost stories."
"God damn it, D--"
D stalked up to Leon and began pushing him out the door, "It was lovely seeing you, Detective, but as said you must be going and I wouldn't want to keep you from your engagements."
"D--!"
D slammed the door in his face, locking it shut.