The Christmas Rose
A/N: Hi all, this is a story that is jumping ahead a bit in my Hogan/Klink saga. The plot bunny has been bouncing impatiently for some time, and I decided to go ahead and satisfy it. I hope to achieve two goals: to reassure my readers that I'm still alive and dedicated to this project, and, to complete a story this year. I am very sorry that Real Life has taken so much out of me and left me so little energy to feed my muse. This story is NOT episode related, as are my other stories. Happy Christmas to all!
Warnings: This is a rather romantic story, taking place after the Hogan/Klink relationship has become established. Sexual activity is referred to, but not explicitly described. If sympathetic portrayals of same sex love bother you, this is not a story for you.
Christmas Eve, 1943
Hogan settled back into the pillow, loose-limbed in the haze of afterglow. He took a leisurely drag on his cigarette, and watched as the lazy curls of smoke slowly emerged from his mouth. He knew that if he turned his head, he would see his companion in a similar state of lassitude; Klink's face smooth and content, briefly free from its normal grimace of tension and worry.
Hogan didn't look, though, choosing instead to linger privately on these few moments of luxury that he allowed himself each week. For the time it took him to smoke his post-orgasmic cigarette, Hogan refused to allow himself to plot, scheme, strategize, worry, feel guilt, shame, or look any further ahead than his next puff. Those six or seven minutes were the only time he ever jealously guarded as just for himself. His time to remind himself that he was still alive, and still a human being able to give and receive pleasure and not look any further beyond.
The actual liaison with Klink had developed in pretty much the way Hogan had predicted it would. Once in Klink's bed, he was in Klink's heart, and once in Klink's heart, he was largely in Klink's confidence. Wilhelm Klink was not a man able to successfully compartmentalize when it came to sex and love.
He was still Hogan's grouchy Commandant in the office, but he grew careless about security when it came to hiding confidential materials from Hogan's reach in both the office and Klink's personal quarters. He also was getting more and more loose-lipped and overlooked more and more suspicious activity on Hogan's part.
Wordlessly, they had come to an understanding: Klink would never overtly betray his country, but he was more than willing to be the bumbling, grumpy fool Hogan needed him to be for the mission.
As for the mission, it was going quite well. The fall and winter thus far had been unseasonably mild, so the men were still in high spirits and robust health, although well aware that bitter cold could be upon them at any time. However, the next few days, with the Germans enjoying the holiday, and the weather cooperating, there was an ambitious schedule of meetings, equipment drops, and some important sabotage activity planned.
Hogan came to himself with a start, realizing his mind had drifted into upcoming missions, and his cigarette was finished.
He stubbed it out in the ashtray beside the bed, but before he could get up, Klink interrupted his thoughts.
"Happy Christmas, Hogan."
He turned and smiled at the Commandant, "Happy Christmas, Will."
Hogan had settled on "Will" for these private meetings, as "Klink" never sounded anything but harshly metallic, and could never convey any warmth.
"I know it's not much," Klink continued, slightly sheepishly, "but I do have a little surprise for you. I was able to save some money in the camp budget, and I procured a shipment of discarded, flannel undergarments for you and your men. I am sorry that they are old, but getting new ones for the men I was told was out of the question. And I know that you and some of the men have been here over a year, so the need must be great...Anyway, I know some of your men are good with the needle and can make minor repairs where needed. Worse ones can be used as rags to stop up drafts in the barracks..."
He trailed off, seemingly embarrassed.
"Will, stop! You don't have to apologize! That's incredibly thoughtful of you - to think of my men and to go to the effort to do that. The men will be very grateful for the supply. Don't say that it's not that much."
Instead of being soothed, Klink scowled, "I'm sorry to hear that you have such a low expectation of me. An honorable knight provides his worthy opponents with every courtesy he would expect for his own person. It is my duty to provide for you and the men in my care. I do what I can...I'm...I'm not a monster, Hogan."
"No, no Will, you're not a monster, and I never thought anything like that. Quite the opposite, I think you're an angel."
Hogan smiled mischievously, "A CHRISTMAS angel, in fact. Bearing tidings of great joy, and underpants!"
"Hogan," Klink groaned.
"No, seriously, Will, I thank you from the bottom of my...bottom," Hogan finished with a laugh.
"That is a truly terrible joke, Hogan," Klink scolded, although he was smiling in spite of himself.
After a slight pause, Hogan sighed and said, "I ought to be getting back to the barracks. The men have a few Christmas Eve celebrations planned. The Glee Club is going to sing some carols..."
He trailed off, but made no move to get out of the cozy, warm bed just yet. The truth was, the idea of exposing his skin to the chilly air to get dressed was not all that appealing. In order to forestall the inevitable, he decided to prod his sometimes enigmatic companion for personal information.
"What is your favorite Christmas carol, Will?"
"Hmmm? Oh, well, it's a German song, I don't think you would know it."
Hogan had always been rather careful not to let Klink know just how well he knew the German language and culture. It was a large strategic advantage. People speak more freely in front of what they believe to be deaf ears.
"I don't care," protested Hogan, "please, sing it for me? You have a lovely voice, I'd love to hear it!"
Klink blushed slightly, but couldn't resist Hogan or his flattery. He cleared his throat and began in his soft, warm tenor:
Es ist ein Ros entsprungen,
aus einer Wurzel zart,
wie uns die Alten sungen,
Und hat ein Blümlein bracht
mitten im kalten Winter,
wohl zu der halben Nacht.
Das Blümelein, so kleine,
das duftet uns so süß,
mit seinem hellen Scheine
vertreibt's die Finsternis.
Wahr Mensch und wahrer Gott,
hilft uns aus allem Leide,
rettet von Sünd und Tod.
Klink's voice grew quiet on the last line, and Hogan found himself unexpectedly moved by both the haunting melody and the sentiments in the words.
After some seconds silence, Hogan cleared his throat and said, "I recognize the tune. We sing a carol in English that begins 'Lo, how a rose e'er blooming,' I imagine it's the same song."
"Yes," Klink replied. "We would sing that, and other songs as we decorated the tree on Christmas Eve..."
"Oh Hogan," he blurted brokenly, "what will remain - good - of Germany...of my people...after this is over?"
Hogan swallowed, "I don't know, Will. I know that YOU are good, I wouldn't be here if you weren't."
Hogan stopped suddenly, realizing the truth of what he'd just uttered, even though he'd always tried to remember that Klink was the enemy. OK, that was going to be a problem, but he needed to set that aside and deal with it later.
Hogan took a deep breath and continued, "I believe that there are many good people in Germany, maybe even most of them. I don't know. All I know is that what is currently going on with Hitler and his gang has to be stopped. I know that you have taken oaths as a soldier that prevent you from acting against his crazy regime, and I understand why you feel that as a man of honor you can't break them, even as I disagree with that decision. But, believe me when I say, I hope that I will be with you to see Germany free of Hitler, and that you'll remember that Germany will need good people like you to rebuild, after it's over."
There was a long pause, as the two men looked at each other, so close, two bodies almost intertwined, and so far, with so many words and secrets dividing them.
Hogan finally clasped Klink's hand and threaded their fingers together, "It's not over, yet, Will. Though I pray to God it will be soon. All things are still possible. Never lose hope."
It was enough. They smiled, unclasped their hands, and Hogan made his way back to his men.
A/N: There will be one more chapter. I will post it sometime in the next day or so.
Here is a literal translation of Klink's carol:
A rose has sprung up,
from a tender root.
As the old ones sang to us,
Its lineage was from Jesse.
And it has brought forth a floweret
In the middle of the cold winter
Well at half the night.
The floweret, so small
That smells so sweet to us
With its clear light
Dispels the darkness.
True man and true God!
He helps us from all trouble,
Saves us from sin and death.
(the phrasing in the English carol is a bit different, to maintain a more poetic feel)
Feedback is, as always, so much appreciated!