Morning roll call came much too early for the three men in Barracks two, who had been up half the night. At least they weren't kept standing outside for long. Klink was busy with General Burkhalter, and Major Hochstetter was endeavoring to put together a small contingent of guards to help him in his search for the two missing prisoners, and one Gestapo Captain.

As soon as they were dismissed from roll call, Kinch and Carter headed down into the tunnel through the false-bottom bunk at the far end of the barracks, while LeBeau went over to the stove and started to work on breakfast. Kinch got on the radio and put in a call to the Underground, and, while waiting for a response, handed Carter a piece of paper and an envelope.

"Here, Carter," Kinch said, pushing his pen in front of him, "Why don't you write the note to Private Schmidt?"

Carter looked at Kinch, surprised. "You want me to write the note? How come?"

"Well, the Colonel usually has me write the camp announcements that get posted in the Rec Hall. Stuff like special activities, contests; you know. I've seen Schmidt go in there many times, and I don't want him to recognize my handwriting."

Carter nodded in understanding. "Sure, that makes sense. Yeah, Kinch, I'll write the note."

"Do you remember what the Colonel wanted it to say? That you're a friend, and you want to give him proof of who's doing the sabotage, and he's supposed to meet you at 2200 hours tonight, a mile east of the munitions factory…"

"Yeah, yeah," Carter answered, looking frustrated, "And to come alone, and not tell anyone or the deal's off. I got it, Kinch."

Kinch smiled. "Good. When you've finished it, put it in the envelope and address it to 'Private Schmidt', then give it to Louis, and he'll slip it into the guard's mail."

Carter wrote the letter, carefully wording it to match what the Colonel had told them to put in it. Then he folded it up and stuffed it in the envelope, scribbled, "Private Schmidt" on the outside, and went to find LeBeau.

LeBeau, who had made a little 'extra' potato pancakes for breakfast, took the envelope from Carter, and went to find Sergeant Schultz, bringing the leftovers with him. When he found him, Schultz was more than happy to let LeBeau hold the stack of mail that had just arrived, while he wolfed down the potato pancakes. LeBeau had no trouble slipping the envelope into the stack, and the deed was done.

Hogan awoke to voices coming from the living room. He blinked his eyes several times, helping them adjust to the sunlight that was streaming in through the window on the opposite wall. He brought his arm up and checked his watch; it was already 9: 30 in the morning! He'd relieved Wagner at 2:00 a.m. and had then roused the Captain at 4:00 a.m., who took over at that point. Wagner was supposed to wake him at 6:00 a.m., but apparently he hadn't, and Hogan suspected he'd done so on purpose; to give him more time to sleep. He didn't like his orders being disobeyed, especially for something as trivial as deliberately letting him get more rest. But as he sat up and stretched his arms out, he realized that the extra sleep had helped, and he didn't know whether to be upset with Wagner at this point, or grateful.

As Hogan got out of bed and started to make his way down the hall, he heard the unmistakable voice of Newkirk coming from the living room; "No, no! You're doin' it wrong! I can still feel you tryin' to slide that envelope into me pocket. 'Ere, give it to me; I'll show you again."

"Well, at least tell me if that was better this time!" Wagner exclaimed, frustrated.

Newkirk looked frustrated as well. "A wee bit, mate, but you've got to be mindful of 'ow you hold your fingers. Look," he said, taking the envelope from him and showing him again how to hold it. "You put your fingers 'ere, like so," he demonstrated to the Captain, "And then when you go to slip it into the pocket, you pull 'em away, like this," again he showed him. "Got it?"

Wagner nodded. "I think so," he replied, trying desperately to get the hang of it.

"Having trouble?" A voice called out from the entrance to the living room, and both Newkirk and Wagner looked up in surprise.

"Colonel!" Newkirk replied, startled, "I thought you were asleep!"

"I wouldn't be, if someone had gotten me up for the next watch." Hogan looked at Wagner in annoyance.

Wagner knew he was in trouble. "I thought you could use the rest, Colonel," He tried to explain, "After everything you've been through…"

"You need your rest, too, Captain," Hogan cut in, "If you're going to pull off this stunt for us."

Wagner, feeling properly chastised, cleared his throat and said, "Yes, sir."

Hogan's expression softened. He couldn't be too mad at Wagner; he knew the Captain meant well. Still, good intentions are no excuse for not following orders, are they? Then he inwardly smiled; that's just what one of his men would have done. Maybe the Captain had been hanging around Newkirk too long!

"So how's it coming?" Hogan asked, moving on to the larger problem, much to Wagner's relief.

Newkirk sighed. "Colonel, Wagner 'ere is tryin', but like I told you last night, this kind of thing takes time. I don't see 'ow he's goin' to get the 'ang of it by tonight."

"Frankly Colonel, neither do I." Wagner agreed.

Hogan thought for a moment. "Well, it's still morning, and you have the rest of the day. Keep working on it; maybe you'll surprise us, Wagner."

Carter was sitting outside of the barracks getting some sun, even though the temperature wasn't much above freezing. He was also keeping an eye on Schultz, who had begun his rounds to pass out the mail for the guards. As Schultz neared the quarters for the lower-enlisted ranks, Carter sat up a little straighter, watching him more closely. Just then Private Schmidt emerged from the building, and, spying Schultz with the mail, walked over to him. Schultz sifted through the pile and pulled out an envelope, which he passed on to Schmidt. Schmidt took it, seemingly happy to be getting mail, but when he looked at it, his expression changed to surprise. He stared at it for a moment after Schultz left, and then opened it and pulled out the letter inside. It looked to Carter like he read and re-read it several times, his face now showing disbelief. Then Schmidt looked up at last, and glanced suspiciously around the compound. He stuffed the letter back into the envelope, and then shoved it into his pocket. Then he turned and walked quickly back to his quarters.

Carter got up and entered the barracks, instantly spotting Kinch and LeBeau sitting at the common table in the middle of the room. He walked over and plopped down next to LeBeau. "Schmidt got the letter." He announced triumphantly.

LeBeau just stared at him, trying to control his irritation. "Well, what did he do, Carter?" He prompted, wondering why Carter always did that; forcing them to draw the information out of him.

"He just looked around, and then went to his quarters." Carter answered as if they should have known that already.

Kinch was relieved. "Looks like the Colonel was right," he said, "Schmidt's not gonna tell anyone. Maybe this plan will work after all." He looked at the other two men and smiled.

Time seemed to drag for Hogan, who didn't really have anything to do; other than watch Newkirk attempt to teach Wagner the technique of slight-of-hand. The Corporal had been at it most of the afternoon, and both he and Wagner were looking thoroughly exasperated at this point. Wagner had improved, but now it was a question of hit and miss; with 'miss' occurring the majority of the time. It was just after 4:00 p.m., and Hogan was becoming convinced that this wasn't going to work.

"Hey, fellas," Hogan called out, "Why don't you take a break?"

Both Newkirk and Wagner looked at him, relieved. "Blimey, Colonel," Newkirk said, "There's just no way that Wagner can learn this in time. You're goin' to 'ave to let me do it."

"I think you're right, Newkirk," Hogan agreed, "But Wagner's going to have to hold onto the papers until after we get inside the camp. You know as well as I do that they're going to want to search us."

"That's right, Colonel," Wagner answered.

"And then," Hogan continued, "Newkirk, you're going to have to get the papers from Wagner, and get close enough to Hochstetter to slip them into his pocket."

Newkirk looked determined. "I can do it, sir." He stated courageously.

Hogan smiled at him. "I know you can."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The three men looked at each other with alarm. Wagner turned and started heading quietly toward the door, motioning Hogan and Newkirk to follow. When they were halfway down the hall, Wagner opened the door to the cellar and looked at his guests while pointing to the stairs. Hogan nodded, and he and Newkirk started climbing down to the floor below, while Wagner crept to the window to see who could be knocking on his door. He peered out the window, ready to make a dash to the cellar himself, when he caught sight of who was standing outside, and his face lit up in surprise. He rushed to the door and flung it open

"Ingrid!" Wagner exclaimed, smiling wide. "What a surprise to see you! What are you doing here?"

Ingrid returned his smile with a shy one of her own. "I thought you and your guests could use something to eat." She answered, gesturing to the two sacks that she'd brought with her, which were sitting on the ground near her feet.

As delighted as Wagner was to see her, he was also concerned about her safety. "That's very kind of you," he replied, now looking worried, "But you shouldn't have put yourself in danger by coming here."

Ingrid smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Friedrich, no one followed me. Besides, you know I work for the Underground; sometimes we have to take risks."

Suddenly Wagner had an incredible urge to sweep her up into his arms, and whisk her away from all the dangers that they both faced on a regular basis. "Please, come in," he found himself saying instead, and reached down to retrieve the two sacks by her feet.

As he led her through the hall, he stopped momentarily at the cellar entrance. "Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, you can come up. It's safe," he called down to them, and continued to head toward the living room, and the kitchen beyond. When he got there, he placed the sacks on the countertop, and went back out into the living room, where Ingrid had decided to wait for him. He saw Hogan and Newkirk emerge from the cellar, and they walked up to join them.

Wagner decided to make the introductions. "Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, this is Ingrid Svensson, one of the waitresses at the Hoffbrau….and a member of the Underground. Ingrid, this is Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk, from Stalag 13."

"Pleased to meet you." Ingrid responded, rather quietly. "I've heard about your operation, Colonel Hogan. If there's anything I can do, I would be glad to help."

Hogan flashed her one of his most brilliant smiles. "That's very kind of you, Miss Svensson. And it's a pleasure to meet you, too." He nodded his head politely. He certainly could understand why Wagner was smitten with her. She appeared to be in her late twenties, and had long blonde hair that was tied up in a neat braid that reached to the middle of her back. She had bright blue-green eyes, and a nice little figure that would make any man want to get to know her much, much better.

Ingrid then turned to Newkirk. "I'm very glad to meet you, too, Newkirk," she said, "Friedrich has told me so much about you."

Newkirk was trying to get his eyes back in their sockets. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Fraulein," he replied smoothly, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand lightly, and looked up at her, smiling.

She smiled back, blushing furiously, and then pulled her hand gently away and turned to look at Wagner. "Why don't I get the food set up that I brought for you?" She said, and hurried off to the kitchen.

"I'll help you, Ingrid," Wagner responded, and followed her out of the living room.

Once they were gone, Newkirk glanced over at Hogan, and suddenly wrapped his arms around himself. "Come to think of it, Colonel," he stated, "I am feelin' a chill comin' on. Maybe Ingrid could 'elp warm me up a bit?"

Hogan resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "Easy there, Newkirk," he said, "She's Wagner's girlfriend."

Newkirk's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Oh, bugger! There's no bloody justice in this world, is there?"

Hogan couldn't keep the smile off his face. "No, there isn't, Newkirk." Then he walked up and threw his arm around the Corporal's shoulders. "But if you're getting cold, I can always warm you up."

Newkirk looked at him, and visibly winced. "Funny thing, that." He replied sheepishly, "I'm feelin' much better now, sir."

Hogan smiled wider. "I thought you would be."

A minute later, Wagner poked his head into the living room, and announced that the meal was ready. Hogan and Newkirk went to join Wagner and Ingrid in the kitchen, noticing that the small table near the window was set for four. While the men from Stalag 13 took a seat, Wagner and Ingrid approached the table, carrying bowls filled with Gaisburger Marsch, a beef stew served with potatoes and spatzle. They passed one to each of the men, and then set the other two bowls in front of their own places, and sat down.

The men hadn't realized how hungry they were until they started eating. The stew was exceptionally tasty, and they dug in without hesitation. After a few bites, Hogan looked at Ingrid and asked, "Did you make this, Miss Svensson? It's very good."

Ingrid smiled shyly. "No, I didn't. I snuck it from the kitchen at the Hoffbrau. But it's one of their better dishes, so I thought you would like it."

"I've had it many times, myself," Wagner piped up, "I eat there a lot."

"Is that 'ow you two met?" Newkirk inquired, before stuffing another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

"Yes." Wagner answered and then looked at Ingrid. "We've known each other for a while, now."

She looked back at Wagner and smiled; her eyes shining with adoration. The look was returned tenfold by Wagner. Then she seemed to remember where she was, and cast her eyes quickly down at her bowl, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Wagner did the same, busying himself with the stew, and Hogan inwardly smiled; finding their shyness with each other rather amusing. Newkirk must have noticed as well, because he threw a knowing glance at Hogan when Wagner and Ingrid weren't looking.

When the bowls were empty, everyone had a second helping except for Ingrid. Once the men were satisfied, she got up and went over to the counter, and unpacked the apple pie she'd brought for dessert. She dished out three pieces, and took them over to the table.

"I made this, myself," Ingrid informed them, "I hope you like it."

"It looks delicious." Hogan said, smiling at her appreciatively.

"It is." Wagner replied, "I've had it before." He smiled at Ingrid also, but his expression was quite different from Hogan's.

Newkirk took a bite. "Say, this is good!" He exclaimed, with his mouth still full. After he swallowed, he remarked, "It's more like a cake than a pie; though, isn't it?"

"That's how they make it in Sweden." Ingrid told him. "I make this from a recipe that my mother handed down to me."

Newkirk looked at Hogan with a sly grin on his face. "I think Ingrid 'ere could give Louis a run for 'is money, don't you, Colonel?" He commented quietly.

Hogan grinned back. Then he looked over at Ingrid again. "Forgive my curiosity, but where did you find apples at this time of year?"

Ingrid motioned to Wagner. "Captain Wagner gave them to me."

Wagner looked at Hogan and smiled. "I know a place where I can get virtually anything, Colonel. Being a Gestapo agent does have its privileges."

When the men couldn't eat another bite, Ingrid shooed them out into the living room; insisting on cleaning up the dishes herself. Hogan and Newkirk took a seat on the couch, and Wagner went to tend the fire. After he added a few more logs, Wagner went over and sat down on one of the chairs adjacent to the couch.

Once Wagner was seated, Newkirk looked at him and couldn't help grinning. "So, when are you plannin' to pop the question, mate?"

Wagner's eyes grew wide with surprise. "What are you talking about, Newkirk?"

Now Newkirk looked surprised. "You're jokin', right? I could see it with me eyes closed! You're in love with Ingrid, aren't you?"

Wagner looked like he was about to protest, and then leaned back and let out a sigh of resignation. "Is it that obvious?"

"If it makes you feel any better, Wagner," Hogan said, "I'd say she's crazy about you, too."

"You think so?" Wagner asked, his voice radiating hope.

Hogan smiled. "I'd bet my next paycheck on it."

"Blimey, mate, you 'aven't even kissed her yet, 'ave you?" Newkirk looked stunned

Wagner started to look uncomfortable. "Well, I was waiting for the right time…"

"Well, I wouldn't wait too long, Wagner," Hogan interjected, "Because time won't wait for you. And you never know what's going to happen tomorrow; especially with a war on."

"Not to mention our little 'performance' that we 'ave to give tonight," Newkirk added.

Just then they heard footsteps entering the living room. "All finished." Ingrid called out as she walked up to join the men sitting in front of the fireplace. They started to rise, but she motioned for them to stay seated.

Wagner stood up anyway, and went over to her. "Thank you, Ingrid," he said, smiling at her. "And now I think it's time for you to go…it's still dangerous for you to be here."

Ingrid's face fell. "Oh, but I was hoping I could stay for a little while longer, and you could play your cello."

Newkirk's ears perked up at that suggestion.

"I'd like that," Wagner replied, "But I don't think it's safe…"

"Oh, please, Friedrich?" Ingrid pleaded sweetly, giving him a look that no man could have resisted.

Wagner smiled. "All right. But just one piece."

Ingrid smiled back. "Thank you, Friedrich." She practically whispered.

Wagner went to get his cello, while Ingrid sat down in one of the chairs next to the couch. A moment later Wagner returned, and in no time he was set up and ready to play.

"I'll play you one of my favorite pieces," Wagner told them. "It's by Boccherini; his Sonata in G major. It's better with a piano accompaniment, but since that's not possible, I'll have to play it solo."

Wagner began to play, and his small audience sat back to listen. The melody that began to flow from his experienced hands soon had them mesmerized. The first movement was light, yet intricate, and they were amazed at how fast Wagner's fingers moved over the strings. The second movement was slower, more melodic, and left them entranced. Ingrid's eyes even seemed to be watering a bit while she listened. The third and final movement had a wonderful, upbeat tempo, and a happy, optimistic air about it, eliciting smiles from the listeners, without them even being aware of it. When Wagner at last finished, they all looked disappointed. As the Captain got up to see Ingrid to the door, Newkirk turned to Hogan. "Didn't I tell you, Colonel? He's a ruddy genius, 'e is!"

"You were right, Newkirk." Hogan was forced to agree.

When they got to the door, Wagner looked at Ingrid. "Thank you for coming, and bringing the food." He said, gazing into her eyes.

Ingrid smiled up at him. "Anytime you need me, Friedrich, I will be more than happy to help you."

They stared into each other's eyes, and then, before he could change his mind, Wagner leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her gently. She reached up and slowly put her arms around him, holding on to him tightly for a moment, and then released her grip as she felt him pull away. They gazed at each other a moment longer, and then she left, looking back once to wave goodbye. Wagner lifted his hand in farewell, and watched her until she was out of sight. Then he closed the door and went back to the living room.

Hogan and Newkirk were both smiling from ear to ear when they saw Wagner's expression.

"It's about time, mate!" Newkirk exclaimed, slapping him on the back.

Wagner just grinned at him.

"I hope things work out for you both," Hogan told him sincerely. "In the meantime, we have a few hours before we need to leave. So, I want you both to get some rest, and I won't take 'no' for an answer."

"What about you, Colonel?" Newkirk asked.

"I'll stand watch. Don't worry; I got plenty of sleep last night." He said, looking at Wagner, then he smiled. "Do you think you can come back to Earth long enough to get a nap in?"

Wagner was beaming. "I'll try, Colonel."

"That's all I can ask. Get some rest, you two. I'll wake you when it's time to go."

Newkirk went to the guest room and crawled into bed, and Wagner headed off to his room. Hogan sat down on the couch and watched the fire; trying not to worry.

A/N: The piece from Boccherini can be found on Amazon dot com, the itunes store...and my ipod! LOL It's called; Boccherini: Cello Sonatas, Vol. 1, 1999, and the performers listed are Christian and Sebastian Benda. It's my husband's favorite piece, which makes it Wagner's, too. :D