Title: Caesar Salad, Chapter 2

By: lbc

Mr. James stood outside the door of the Earl's master bedroom. It was a race between his stinginess and his jealousy to see which one forced him to act first. He badly wanted to pull out his trusty calculator and begin computing the value of the goodies that his beloved employer could haul in at the forthcoming Art Gala and Soirée that the Earl of Gloria, a.k.a. Eroica, would be hosting the next evening.

Unfortunately, his jealousy of the young professor, Caesar Gabriel, got the better of him as he burst into the sitting room with just the minimum of knocking. The diminutive man stopped, however, when he saw a curled up figure lying in his lordship's luxurious and oversized bed. Fearful that another blond haired figure would be found there as well, James crept forward carefully to get a better view.

Suddenly, he halted; his face turning red as the melodious voice he knew so well asked,"

Why are you here, Jamesie?"

Turning around, Super Scrooge noticed that there were two individuals, sitting at the elegant table that made up a large portion of the tastefully done sitting room. On one side of the table was Dorian, Earl of Gloria and on the other was Bonham, the man who kept the entire circus that surrounded the Earl in top form.

I can't believe it. The Earl's dressed and active, and it's only (looking at his watch that had the dreadful habit of turning his wrist green) 10:00 am! What is his lordship doing up at this hour especially with that . . . that . . . boy in his bed?

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I was . . . well, I needed to ask you a question."

Now, both the Earl's deep blue eyes and Bonham's dark ones turned on the elf with the curl dropped over one eye. Both men knew very well that it was the Earl's practice to remain in bed until noon, unless that Teutonic fury, known as Klaus von dem Eberbach, N.A.T.O. agent extraordinaire, demanded his time, but neither man said anything about this preposterous assertion.

The Earl batted his eyes in a sensuous fashion and asked, "Yes, what is your question?"

Suddenly, James felt as if he was strangling. He reached up to loosen the tie that was constricting his throat. It was very inexpensive , but it had been on sale (of course) so James wore it. Now it felt like a noose. Struggling to free his Adam's apple from the restriction, he gasped out, "Well, Sir. That . . . that boy . . . is costing us money each and every day that he's here, and . . . well, I just wondered how many more days will he be here . . . so I can plan . . . the budget for this . . . uh, mission?"

The Earl seemed not to notice that Jamesie's voice faded out on the last words. He smiled so beautifully that no one would have thought there was anything offensive, whatsoever, in the question, but Dorian knew his man better than anyone. He could see the jealousy as well as hear it.

Standing up, the Earl walked gracefully over to where James stood, putting his silk clad arm around the shorter man's shoulders. "Oh James, please forgive me. I don't really know how long Professor Gabriel will be with us. He's doing us a tremendous favour, by speaking at the Gala tomorrow evening. I'm sure all my guests will be anxious to hear his thoughts. After all, it's not every day that they get to see my world famous art collection as well as hear a recognized authority speak on that art."

James looked towards the bedroom. Yeah, and it's not everyday that the brat gets to go to bed with his lordship, either.

Dorian's deep blue eyes wandered towards the bedroom as well; then he glanced as his faithful but miserly James. He laughed. "Oh Jamesie, you aren't thinking what I think you are. I am not sleeping with the Professor. My goodness, he's only 21, and I would never dare flaunt a relationship with the man who's going to speak on my art collection. No, no, that might come later, but for now, he's just a guest."

James wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Since the Earl of Gloria had met a certain German individual his antics in bed had been more reserved, but the accountant with the calculator for a heart also knew the history of the beautiful and wealthy Earl of Gloria and the prodigy of London University. Dorian, years before, had promised to give the young man a thousand kisses well, James badly wanted to know if more than the original 3 had been delivered.

Sighing, James nodded, "Yes, Sir, but it's my duty to make sure that there are adequate funds to run this household properly. We are already spending a fortune on food and entertainment for this gala. Since these guests are getting such a treat, wouldn't it be a good idea to charge each of them a few pounds to help compensate us? We could ask each one to deposit a trinket you know a bracelet or necklace or cufflinks in a basket . . ."

James came to a halt as the Earl burst forth with his glorious laugh and Bonham, hitherto silent, gave a snort that sounded like he was swallowing his tonsils. "Oh Jamesie, you sound like we are on bankruptcy's door step. Come now, if we are really that bad off, you must have been fiddling with the books again."

For a moment, the dark haired man stood stunned did the Earl know about his little deal to purchase some vintage K-rations to present to those freeloading guests the next evening? After all, why should we pay full price for caviar and foie gras when pulsed K-ration will do as well?

Seeing the strange look on James' face, the Earl immediately apologized, saying that he was just teasing. He reminded James that he had absolute faith in him.

Mr. James adjusted his tie once again. His Adam's apple continued to bob up and down to avoid the garrotte feeling of the unidentifiable material of the tie. Forcing himself to give a sick-sort of smile, he replied, "Of course, your lordship, we're not near bankruptcy, but it is my duty to keep an eye on the books."

Suddenly, Bonham burst into the conversation totally unasked "You sure do that, Mr. James; I practically had to pry your wallet open to get enough money to finance this do for tomorrow. How would it look for the Earl's guests to be fed improper food?"

The Earl gently patted Bonham's shoulder. "Now, now, we have everything worked out, don't we, Bonham? Why don't you take James with you so that you can count everything once again. We all know that a few things were missing after the last soirée?"

Since both the Earl and Bonham briefly stared at James as this was being said, James decided it was best to depart before those "few things" came under closer inspection.

Just as Bonham and James were leaving, however, the youthful voice of Caesar Gabriel could be heard floating from the splendid bedroom next door,

"Your lordship, is that you?"

Once again James was seething; his demeanour spoke volumes. Bonham dragged him down the stairs with the admonition that the Earl was old enough to decide for himself who were his friends or not.

The Earl of Gloria waltzed into the bedroom that he had had created especially for himself. The young man who now occupied his bed looked delicious, sitting there propped up against numerous pillows. The older man smiled, "Yes, it's me. I was just finishing up a few details about the party tomorrow evening. Did you sleep comfortably?"

The younger face sparkled, "Oh yes, it was so kind of you to change rooms with me. I don't know why the other bed felt as if there were tiny pebbles in it, but this bed was marvellous."

The blue eyes twinkled, "Perhaps, a case of the Princess and the pea."

Gabriel laughed delightfully certainly nothing like the seldom heard Teutonic laughter of one, Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach. Now that Dorian thought about it, he had never really heard his Major laugh. That was sad, but Dorian loved the Teutonic warrior just as he was although a little less of the "you pervert", would be nice.

"Your lordship, are you sure that it's all right if I sleep here; I really didn't mean to remove you from your own bed."

The youthful face clearly revealed the younger man's thoughts. He had hoped that the beautiful Earl would accomplish his task of the thousand kisses by sharing his bed with his target, but it had not occurred. For the last two days, the Earl had behaved totally as a gentleman. No proposition had passed his lips, much to Caesar's dismay. He had fallen in love with the older man and had hoped that this party would open the doors to the Earl's bedroom. Well, the doors were open but the Earl failed to enter.

Dorian smiled, as if he were reading the young man's mind. "What would you like to do today?"

"Oh whatever, you would like. I don't need too much time to view the art that I'm going to speak about so we could do whatever you wish."

By this time, Caesar was out of bed and standing very close to the slender figure of Dorian Red Gloria. The Earl could feel the youth's breath gently moving his blond curls. The scent of the young man was delicious; he felt slightly aroused, but nothing like his feelings when he was around the Major. A look of incredible sadness crossed Dorian's beautiful face. Why was it that every thought that entered his head always seemed to lead back to the man who hated him and only tolerated him for his service to N.A.T.O.?

Why can't I just forget the Major and throw caution to the winds? Why don't I just take the young man to bed and forget everything else?

Perhaps that is what would have happened if two events had not occurred: a discreet bell chimed announcing that breakfast was ready, and a knock at the door which rapidly turned into the entrance of the tornado known as Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach!

The two blonds stood staring at the tall, superbly physical dark-haired man. For a full second Dorian's heart fluttered as he tried to think of something to say, but the German Major did not have that trouble. He announced himself in his own inimitable way with,

"Get your perverted hands off that young man!"

End of Chapter 2