A/N: People, what is up?! It has been a minute and a half since I uploaded a new story. I still exist, I swear. I apologize for the extremely long delay. Last semester of senior year of college, applying EVERYWHERE for a job, homework and exams, my spring allergies whooping me royally, uh. It's a mess. It's a giant mess. Yes, I do plan on finishing my ABC story centered around Hogan, just need to find a time where everything isn't so...chaotic. One note before I stop rambling and let you read the good stuff: Kalina's age has been adjusted to a future story based off an episode. So instead of 15, she is now 14 in this story and the one later down the road. Just so I leave no reader scratching their head like 'What?' Okay, I really need to shut up now. Go at it, folks! Reviews highly encouraged! :D
Chapter 1:
Poker chips clang together. Laughter and soft jazz music filled the entire barracks. Cards swished in peoples' hands and onto the table. Tonight was a night worth celebrating. Kalina's Great Uncle Gustav had turned over full custody of her back to Klink and gave permission for her to stay in Stalag 13 permanently, as he had met a beautiful blonde while away in Berlin and was moving there to marry her. After her father took her out to a fancy restaurant and let her order whatever she wanted, the little Klink returned to barracks two surprised by all the streamers, confetti, and chocolate cake LeBeau had made her for her big "Welcome to Stalag 13" party.
After they had all had some cake and gave Kalina a few little gifts, she, Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, and Kinch all sat at the table playing a few games of poker. The Englishman lay down a card, then turned to LeBeau, indicating he was done with his turn. The French corporal pursed his lips as he thought of a good move. He grinned when he saw the right cards to add pressure to his friend and placed them down, looking at Newkirk with victory shining in his eyes.
"Try and come back from that, Pierre. I can smell the win now," he said confidently.
"It ain't over till the fat Kraut sings," Newkirk answered, cocky.
"I thought the phrase was 'It's not over till the fat lady sings'," Carter said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"Do you see any fat lady wandering around in this camp?" LeBeau asked.
The young sergeant fell silent as he thought about it. He opened his mouth to speak, but immediately closed it.
"Well no, but…" Kinch cut off the man with a hush.
"It's Kalina's turn," he said.
Kalina looked down at her hand for a moment, then smiled from ear to ear, her face beaming as bright as the sun. She threw down her hand, revealing a royal flush.
"Read 'em and weep!" She cried, collecting all the winnings.
The four flyers gave a groan and threw their hands in for Newkirk to reshuffle.
"Blimey, little mate. You're bleedin' me dry here." The Englishman exclaimed.
"Yeah, how are you doing that anyways?" Carter asked, turning his attention to the little teenager.
Kalina gave a sly grin.
"I don't give that information to the enemy," she said.
"Little brat," Newkirk teased, making Kalina giggle in response.
"You better buy me a bottle of beer with some of that, kid," Kinch said.
Kalina frowned. She was too young yet to legally buy alcohol.
"You mean root beer?" She simply replied.
All the guys bursted out laughing, and the radioman wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Little mate, you crack me up sometimes, yah know that?" Newkirk asked.
"I am going to teach you everything about cooking and baking, ma petite ami. You will be making crème brûlée like a pro by your next birthday," LeBeau said, dreaming of giving the girl cooking lessons. He had always wanted to teach someone how to cook the fine delicacies of his France.
"What is crème brûlée?" Klink's daughter asked.
LeBeau shot up from his spot, his eyes bugging out, and his jaw hanging all the way from its hinges.
"You don't know what crème brûlée is?!" He cried.
Kalina innocently shook her head.
"That is it. The filthy bosche have been keeping you away from Heaven on earth," the Frenchman said. He turned his eyes to the technical sergeant. "André, where is my saucepan?"
Carter shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as the barracks door opened. Hogan stepped inside, closed the door, and smiled at the sight before him.
"How's the celebrating going?" He asked.
"Colonel, ma petite ami has been kept away from knowing what crème brûlée is! The filthy bosche should be arrested for such a crime!" LeBeau ranted.
Hogan chuckled in response.
"I assume you're gonna make some now?" He replied.
"No one has lived their life if they have not had crème brûlée," LeBeau said, and headed for the stove.
The colonel shook his head, then turned to the table and smiled at Kalina.
"You enjoying your new home so far?" He asked.
Kalina nodded eagerly.
"Jawohl, Colonel Hogan. Papa bought me a new bed and designer pillow cases from Italy for my room!" She replied.
"You mind givin' me one of them pillow cases? Mine is a bit dirty currently," Newkirk said, lighting a cigarette.
The teenager cocked her head slightly to the side and gave him a playful glare.
"I don't think you want pillow cases with cross stitched flowers sewn on them," she answered.
"It might make Pierre a bit more sensitive." LeBeau commented, with a grin.
"Make your crème brûlée," Newkirk remarked back, snippy.
Hogan rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Kalina.
"Well hon, since it looks like you'll be sticking around, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you. And I think you're just the right person I'm looking for." He began, crossing his arms.
Kalina looked at the man with a puzzled expression.
"Right person," she said. "Right person for what?"
"Well," Hogan began. "You've been working with the underground for awhile now. Done several assignments with us, have a good knowledge on how the operation works around here, and I'm willing to put you to the test."
Kalina's eyes dilated, and her jaw dropped when she realized what the man was saying to her. She tried to speak, but she could not find her voice. Me, she thought. He wants me to join his operation?
"Is he doing what I think he's doing right now?" Carter gasped.
"Boy, I sure hope it is," Newkirk said, anticipation filling inside him to the brim.
The officer's grin widened, his eyes never leaving the little teenager before him.
"Kalina, how would you like to join my team? Be an actual member instead of just doing it as a side job," Hogan said.
Kalina's eyes lit up like bright stars in the night sky and could not control herself from smiling with excitement. She had always wanted to be on Hogan's team since coming to live at Stalag 13, but never brought up the issue in order to keep herself from getting false hope. The chances of getting offered a place on Papa Bear's team was basically a slim to zero chance of ever happening. One had to be extremely good and talented to get onto Hogan's operation team. He did not just select random people off the street to assign positions to. Now here she sat being offered an open spot to work with him, and she could finally make him proud. She looked up to him as much as she did with her own father and knowing she would be helping him defeat Germany was more than invigorating to her.
"Really?! Do you really mean it?!" She cried, putting her hands together in a plea.
Hogan silently chuckled and nodded.
"Yes, I really mean it," he answered.
"Oh danke, danke, danke, Colonel Hogan!" She cheered, shooting up from her spot and hugging the man, taking him back by surprise. He gave another chuckle and rubbed her back gently in return. "I won't let you down, Colonel Hogan. I swear I won't! I'll get up everyday at 4AM and report for duty at your office door just to prove it!"
Hogan smirked.
"I'd actually prefer if you didn't do the last part. Your father doesn't exactly like letting us sleep in when morning comes," he said, then his facial expression went serious. "But this is going to be something you're really committed in doing. Being a part of my team is not an easy job to do and takes a lot of guts to carry out with. I only want you on board if you're truly serious about it."
"Sir, yes, Sir!" Kalina remarked sharp, giving three sharp salutes.
The colonel laughed.
"And don't be so formal with me. You see how everyone else addresses me around here. Just call me Colonel Hogan," he continued.
"Yes, Sir. I mean Colonel Hogan," the little teenager said, correcting herself immediately.
Hogan's men all surrounded Kalina and each took turns of congratulating and hugging her, openly welcoming her to the team. She smiled and blushed at all the praise and gratitude. Unlike the rest of her Klink family, she had always been more on the shy side of things. It took her a couple minutes for her to warm up to somebody new and never really liked being in the limelight. She liked putting people she loved in it, but never had a craving for it herself like her debonair father and arrogant Uncle Wolfgang.
"You're gonna do great, little mate. Man, am I gonna teach you so many things about safe-cracking, you'll outdo even me," Newkirk said confidently.
"I hope so," Kalina answered, meek. "Little nervous."
"Oh, you will be fantastique, ma petite ami. I am always right about these things." LeBeau replied, with a pat on the shoulder.
Carter sniffed the air when a peculiar scent hit his nose. He puckered a bit and sniffed again. It smelled like the very familiar scent of smoke.
"Is something burning?" He asked, trying to look around for a reasonable explanation.
"My crème brûlée!" The Frenchman exclaimed, his eyes bugging out at the sudden realization. He sprinted back for the small stove and tended to his French delicacy.
Hogan shook his head and turned to look at Kalina.
"That's something else you're gonna have to get used to around here other than properly locking your things up," he stated.
"Get used to what?" Kalina asked, perplexed.
"LeBeau mothering his baking," Hogan answered.
The small Klink giggled and wrapped her arms around the American. Hogan gave a small smile, his heart warming at her innocence, and hugged her back. He was definitely going to enjoy having a little girl to parent for once instead of a bunch of boys.