IronAmerica-2

So, I've been stuck in the insanely real world of Hogan's Heroes for about three hours. I wonder if Mugi-chan has contacted the police yet? Maybe the clerk called my mom, and told her that I've disappeared off the face of the earth forever. She is going to be so mad.

Which brings me to my other problem. I am not a morning person, especially when I've gone for three days straight without sleep. Also, I start seeing things after major doses of caffeine. I had been drinking lots of coffee prior to this. So, I thought it was a girl I had socked in the gut, but it was a guy. I am so dead. It was Carter, and now I have to think up a way to apologize to him. I feel really bad about hitting him, and I really do want to make some friends in this mixed-up place.

And now, for my biggest problem. How the HELL am I going to explain myself to Peter? I'm not old enough to drink, and I kissed a guy who's at least a decade older than me. Maybe Kinch would know how I could apologize to Peter.

"Mr. Kinchloe, can I ask you a question?" The tall African-American looks at me suspiciously. "Um, I know that you may not like the fact that all of us girls are showing up her, but I kinda need your help with a problem." He looks at me, a look of something akin to disgust on his face. Have I done something to offend him? I hope I didn't, cause I'm still sad about the death of the actor that played him.

"Sergeant, I need to know how to apologize to Carter and Newkirk." Might as well be blunt. "I'd talk to Olsen, but he's busy dodging some of the others, Colonel Hogan is busy trying to find out how to get rid of us, and I can't talk to Helga or Hilda. And you are kinda the most logical choice. I mean, you're brave, funny, intelligent, and you're also the most level-headed." Something akin to amazement or shock is now spreading across his face.

Level-headed Kinch looks like he's sucking on a lemon. "Just apologize to them. Now, as you said, we are all busy trying to figure out how to get rid of you. So…" I get the hint and leave, after giving him a hug. Okay, yeah. I'm an impulsive, idiotic teenager, who has possibly given one of the Heroes a heart attack. Lucky me.


First off, Carter. I finally retrieve my backpack, which has been sifted through extensively. Luckily, most of it has been left alone. My lucky jacket is missing though. I need to find that. I grab a thermos out of the interior, and head to find Carter.

"Carter?" The chemist turns around, and looks at me. I hold out the thermos. "Do you want to share a milkshake?" Yeah, I hid a milkshake in my thermos. What can I say, I like peanut butter milkshakes. The smile that spread across his face was blinding. He really is the kid brother of the group, I realize. No wonder he's so naive. They seem to feel the need to protect him from everything.

Half an hour later, we're sitting on a bench, and eating ice-cream, discussing anything that comes to mind. Finally, a subject comes up that I've been dreading. "So, Dasha, why'd ya kiss Newkirk?" Had to come up sometime, I guess.

"Well, you know how most of us who keep popping up around here know almost every detail of your operation?" He nods. "Well, I found a picture of him about four or five years ago, and fell in love. He was adorable in that picture, and I guess that seeing him in real life short-circuited my brain." He laughs softly, and something akin to wistfulness appears in his eyes. Oops. I remember season one just then. Carter's fiancée dumped him, and I probably brought it back to the surface. "Carter, are you okay?" He nods, looking lost. I push the thermos into his hands. "Here you go, Carter. You can have the rest." He nods, and digs in, a childish smile on his face. Time to find Newkirk.


I finally found Newkirk in a barracks, holding what looks like a poker tournament. I just walk in, and close the door behind me. I thought I had been quiet, but every head turns towards me. I feel suddenly grateful that I packed a set of surplus military fatigues in my backpack. They were already undressing me with their eyes. Darn things were too tight.

"Um hi. May I watch?" They instantly remember the game, and turn back to their cards. Newkirk smiles at me impishly (insert fan girl SQUEE here), and gestures for me to come sit beside him. I do, and watch the game progress. Immediately, I can tell that he's rigged the decks that he's using, because he's got almost every single ace. Either that, or he's an exceptionally lucky man.

As the game dies down, I begin to see why Newkirk is my favorite. He's funny, good at getting out of scrapes, drop-dead gorgeous, and a perfect gentleman. As soon as the last player leaves, I turn to Newkirk, intending to apologize. But, as soon as I open my mouth, he stops me. "Luv, I think I know what you're 'ere for. Just so you know, there ain't nothing to apologize for. I enjoyed it, an' apparently, so did you." Good Lord, he's smarter than the show said he was. My respect for him nearly triples. "So, can I call you Peter?" Now that was a dumb, spur-of-the-moment question.

All Peter does is grin. I took that as a yes. "Thanks, Peter. Um, shouldn't we probably be leaving right about now? People will talk." In the 1940's it was considered improper for a man and a woman to be alone on their first date, as far as I knew. And I don't think this counted as a date, but it was the closest I was getting.

"You're right there. We probably should leave. Just let me get my winnings-" The door opens, and who should come in, but Schultz. Huh. How am I going to get out of this one? Schultz solves it himself. "Newkirk, why is there a girl here? You know it is verboten. Please, Newkirk, it would be worth my life. If the Kommandant were to find out about all these strange things, I would be -"

I can't resist. "Sent to the Russian Front." The look on Schultz's face is priceless. "Schultz, 'ow would it look, you finding a bird on your watch? The kommandant would want to know 'ow she got in 'ere in the first place." Newkirk, you are a genius. Schultz wisely backs off, babbling about how he never saw me, he never went into the barracks, and he never got up that morning.

"Peter, you are a genius" I say, and kiss him on the cheek. Okay, I am now over my initial embarrassment, and can safely kiss Peter, without looking like a fire hydrant. He gathers up what he won, and head back for Barracks Two. Straight into a disapproving looking Colonel Hogan.

"Newkirk, inside. You," he says pointing to me, "are going to stay here, and tell me why you are bribing my men." Huh? Bribing who? My confusion must have been evident, because he holds up a distinctive purple and blue thermos. Oh, crap.

"Um, Colonel? I- I wasn't bribing anyone. I w-was just apologizing to Carter." He is definitely not the loveable teddy bear that Bob Crane portrayed him as. Colonel Hogan is obviously not convinced. Time to pull out the big guns. " Colonel, may I speak frankly?" He nods. " Sir, I was not bribing anyone. If I were intending to collapse your operation, I would have gone to Klink, and called your local Gestapo. However, I have no love for the Gestapo, for reasons I won't explain."

He doesn't look convinced, but my dad is in the military, so I can sort of read military men. He looked disapproving still, but I could tell that he accepted my story. Phew. Crisis averted. And hopefully, I'll never have to do something like this again.