A/N: This oneshot takes place in the world of the *film* "The Mask of Dimitrios" (1944), and completely disregards the novel, "A Coffin for Dimitrios." First person to leave a review saying, "This is wrong because in the book it said-" gets shot. :(
I don't own "The Mask of Dimirtios."
Cornelius Leyden returned from his wild goose chase across Europe with a mountain of information on the killer Dimitrios, first-hand experience in a real life crime mystery, and two Siamese Cats.
The cats were given to him by an aristocrat whom he'd interviewed on his travels. The man was getting up there in years, and had decided he didn't have the energy to pay attention to two frisky young cats anymore. So while Leyden was on his way back home, the man invited him for another visit, and told him he wanted Leyden to have the cats, thinking they'd be happier with him.
One of the cats was rubbing against Leyden's leg, as he poured himself some coffee.
"Oh you want some Meip? I think this stuff is a little strong for you."
Leyden had changed their names. The aristocrat had called them something...aristocratic. Adelina and...Leyden could never remember the other one. He'd remained Adelina "Natalia" (after a deceased cousin), and the other "Meip" (a name he'd heard somewhere on his travels and liked).
"You know, I like having you two around." Leyden joked, talking a seat on the sofa with his coffee. "I like having you two to talk to."
Meip hopped onto the sofa and sniffed his coffee.
"Sure I've got friends!" Leyden said, pulling his coffee out of the cat's reach. "But there are things you cannot talk about, even with friends." He took a sip. "Even if they know about it, you don't talk about it."
Meip began kneading the sofa with her front paws.
"Cats." Leyden muttered to himself, watching Natalia trot over towards the sofa to join them. "Look at me, I'm a grown man, unmarried, talking to cats."
On the floor, Natalia rolled over onto her back, expecting a belly rub. Meip was on the sofa, falling asleep.
Leyden set down his coffee and knelt over to rub Natalia. "No, I'm not against marriage. I just, eh, haven't found a man Mother approves of." He chuckled weakly to himself.
Leyden had worked for years to tame his "creepy" raspy laugh, and had almost succeeded. But sometimes it still got out. Just another one of this crime novelist's eccentricities. His smoking addiction was probably responsible for it.
That's what he needed right now, a smoke.
Actually, this was possibly the longest Leyden had gone in a while without a cigarette in his mouth. He opened the drawer of the little table by the couch and fished for a pack of smokes. "I think Mother would approve of Mr. Peters...if he weren't in jail at the moment."
Leyden watched Natalia lick herself for a few seconds, until the cat noticed him watching her and stopped to stare back.
"You look surprised Natalia." Leyden chuckled again, and took a seat back on the couch. "Yes, Mother wouldn't mind. She knows. Everyone knows." He took a drag. "Everyone knows that Cornelius Leyden is a 'confirmed bachelor.' How did that woman put it, 'a different sort.' So what, lots of writers and artists and performers are. In fact I'm starting to think it might be a prerequisite."
Leyden leaned back and began scratching Meip behind the ears, waking her.
"Mr. Peters too. I wasn't sure at first, but after a while I could just tell. He didn't want women either, never did. Too bad he had to be so old and fat." He straightened, looking between the two cats. "Too bad he couldn't look more like Dimitrios, huh? That man was," Leyden's smile faded. "He was terrifying. Primitive. A brute. You know, I admit it. I was in love with him. Or more accurately in love with the idea of Dimitrios. Oh no," he said quickly, as if the cat whose chin he was scratching was turning her head up in shock. "I didn't think it was romantic to murder or steal or lie. But you have to admit, there is something romantic about a villain who is so sly and efficient, so utterly without scruples, with such an interesting life. Like something out of, eh, a crime novel." He shrugged and took another drag. "Guess I learned my lesson huh. Like Peters said, it's not like one of my novels."
Meip was purring now, as he continued to scratch her.
"Turned out it was Mr. Peters who was the nice man. Old, fat, ugly Mr. Peters. I figured he'd try at some point to get to me...it's so hard to find another queer man around, probably harder when you're a criminal on the run. Can't be too picky can you."
Leyden thought of one of his last nights with Mr. Peters. The night they-what was Peters' euphemism?-"Had coffee."
"He wasn't bad." Leyden admitted, reaching over for his coffee. "But then again it was my first time in God knows how long, so how would I know, right?"
Leyden enjoyed people, but he had always been very introverted. Even if his sexual disposition had been the norm, he still would have had very few relationships. And on top of that, Leyden was a nice boy. He wouldn't just jump into the sheets with anyone.
"That fat man was so kind to me, in so many ways." Leyden said. "And he was interesting too, in his own way. How many people can say the first time they met up in a hotel room with their man was with a gun involved?"
The night Peters had ransacked his room, and held him at gunpoint.
"I need to get working on that book. Poor Peters is sitting there in jail, waiting for something to read." He waved his hand, sending smoke swirling. "I'm waiting for something to write. I cannot write. I don't know what's holding me back Meip. I just can't seem to get a story flowing out like I used to."
Below on the floor, Natalia cooed.
"Eh, thanks 'Talia." Leyden said, to tired to imagine what her words of comfort were.
Leyden and the cats sat in silence for a bit. He forced himself to finish his now lukewarm coffee, making a face.
"You're right Natalia," Leyden said. "I should stop talking to cats every night, and go out to a club. Have some fun, huh? Mr. Peters wouldn't blame me." He leaned back on the sofa, and began to doze. "Tomorrow."
A/N: Pretty pointless story. I basically just wrote this to summarize my personal interpretation of "The Mask of Dimitrios." Seems ridiculous, but given how the characters talk and act, I have an easier time believing Leyden and Peters are gay than straight.