Chapter 49 – A changed world

The morning was once again a grey and stormy one, but the dreadful winter weather didn't matter for the two love birds in their little wooden nest. Somewhere during the night, Klink had managed to pull the large bath towel away from under himself and Hogan and used it to clean them up before he threw it on the floor. Robert had barely woken up, only grumbled something unintelligent before he snuggled back against the older man and fell asleep again. Will followed him soon.

None of them had considered to set the alarm clock, yet both woke up in time, yet out of different reasons.

"Ooohhh dammit!"

It was not his way that the first thing he said in the morning was a curse, but this time Robert Hogan couldn't suppress the swearing as he sat up – and a certain part of his body told him instantly in no-unambiguously way what it thought of the wild activities of the night prior. Placing his feet on the floor and remaining seated on the bed's edge, he cursed again. His butt burnt like someone had stuck a flaming torch in it, the backside of his upper legs gave him hell, and his lower back thought it to be a good idea to punish him with an angry throbbing as well as his left side of the chest. And all this only as he had tried to stand up. It really killed all morning needs for the restroom.

"Wash-ish'n?" Klink mumbled, in an odd mixture of German and English.

"I try to figure out how to sit down today without giving proof to the whole world what happened last night," Robert groaned, ignoring the stinging of the love bite between his neck and shoulder. Reaching out, he switched on the little lamp on the nightstand and looked shortly at the burned down candles and the heap of textiles on the floor. The almost empty bottle of oil lay beside it like an accusation.

To his astonishment, he heard a low chuckle and glanced back over his shoulder at his secret lover, who looked at him with shining, yet hooded eyes. "You get used to it," Klink smiled, feeling still tired, but also amused. He had slept deep and soundly with no nightmares, but dreams of his witty fox. His loins felt heavy, and his member burnt a little bit, but he loved to sense these evidences of a perfect love night.

Yet, as he tried to move, he felt how exhausted his body was, but he was happier than ever before in his whole life. Rubbing one hand over his face, he snorted. "If we would have made love one time more, I think General Burkhalter would have been forced to take care of my burial. But this time for real."

"For mine, too," Hogan smirked, feeling great despite his burning butt that hurt in and outwardly. "But we better don't tell him the reason for our early exit."

Klink laughed out. "I imagine his face. He would get a heart attack." He felt a soft stinging and itching on his back, but he ignored it. He turned his head. In the light of the little lamp on the nightstand, his gaze found Robert's, who also looked at him – eyes hooded, lips still a little bit swollen from too many passionate kisses, hair sticking out from dried sweat, but he smiled like a little boy under the Christmas tree.

"This is the best thing that ever happened to me," the American whispered. "The next time, you'll be on the receiving end. Promise."

A gentle chuckle escaped Will. "I had my share of flaring passion. That's the whole advantage when two men make love to each other – both get the money's worth, so to say."

"Well, the same goes for men and women, too." Rob lay back down again and rolled towards Will – an act of utmost effort, how he realized. His body seemed to weigh tons.

"I don't have so much experiences in the man-woman-department," Klink admitted, before he smiled at the younger man. "But it doesn't matter. Nothing had ever felt so utterly right and replete like being with you." He reached out and cupped Rob's cheek.

Robert smiled back at him, and for a long moment, they did nothing else than simply lay there and look at each other, still feeling the rest of the wonder they had experienced last night. Both hoped that there would be many, many repeats, but one thing was for sure: this one particular night – their first in which they really made love to each other – would live forever in their minds and souls. There were no words necessary. Silently, they drowned in the other one's eyes, while the soft sound of the early morning seemed to sing its own gentle song.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked finally, feeling utterly relaxed.

"Great," Rob murmured, with a gentle smile. "Completed in a way I never thought possible because I didn't know that I missed it." He edged closer to the older man. "You're a dangerous seducer, Wilhelm Klink. Not only because you're such a damn good lover, but also because you're so loveable." He took a deep breath. "I meant it last night, you know. I do love you."

There, he had said it again – and the world didn't come to an end. 'You really were a coward, Robert Edward Hogan,' he rebuked himself.

Will's smile was bright enough to outdo even the sun, while he closed the short distance to the younger man and kissed him tenderly. Within a minute hands roamed over backs, sides and shoulders. Legs became entangled, tongues and lips danced together.

With large effort, Klink finally tore himself away from his beloved and sat up. "Good God, if we don't stop, it will lead to more – very much more. And then I come too late to roll call. Or, worse, Burki really does have to take care of our funeral because we died of sheer bliss."

Hogan, a little bit breathless and with a throbbing morning erection, stared at his secret lover. "Burki?" He echoed, not believing his ears.

Will looked down at him and winked. "Ja, why not? Everyone has a few nicknames – and to call him always the 'fat Sacher cake' gets boring. And his wife calls him 'Hansi' – what he loathes, by the way – so why not Burki?" He smirked. "You know that we Germans often shorten the name and use an 'i' as a minimization?"

"Burkhalter – Burki?" Robert's eyes were about to bulge out of his head – then he burst into laughter. Just the imagination of the arrogant, yet cowardly, fat general having a 'nickname' like this was too funny to stay serious.

Klink chuckled while he watched the giddy American. "The big, 'great' general is often nothing more than a spoiled child with too much kilos on the hips and grips for Mama's skirt if something becomes risky and pouts. So yeah, 'Burki' fits."

Hogan laughed even more until his belly hurt. "Lord, don't call him this when he is present. I think even my biggest trick-repertoire couldn't stop him from sending you to the Russian Front then." He gasped between laughter.

In early times, Klink would have gone rigid at the mentioning of the 'Russia Front', but not anymore. After he finally admitted his love for his American counterpart and even got it returned now, he had found a strength in him he didn't know he possessed. Grinning, he deadpanned, "He would mess with the wrong guy. One call to his sister Gertrude, who loves to conspirer with his wife Berta, and the topic would be from the table."

Hogan still tried to get his laughter under control. "Just have a look. Now you remember that you can steer Burkhalter by sticking to Gertrude. Look out, Will, or she wants you as the payment."

Wilhelm only smiled. "No way, my dear Hogan. I only belong to one soul on this whole planet, and this one soul lays beside me just right now. Giggling like a child." His glance became tender before he added. "And chickens always stick together and 'fight' against the males. Believe me, not one of the two ladies would allow Burki to play mean if they have a reason to be mother hens."

Robert had calmed down by now, yet still he had to control some more bubbles of laughter, which threatened to rise from his belly. Clearing his throat a few times, he said, "Never say ever again that you haven't had any experiences in the man-woman-department, Willie."

"Oh, here and there I got some experiences – after all, I flirted a lot to cover my true nature. And if it would come to the worst, we always can make new compromising photos of Burkhalter, and he backs down." He winked at Hogan, who shook his head in amusement, remembering the incident in which the Heroes did exactly this to save Klink from being sent back to the active service. It had been one of the not so few occasions in which the Kommandant, Hogan, and his team had pulled it together, and it always had been a big success in the end. And this during a time they still thought Klink was their opponent. Now, with the Oberst officially-unofficially in the same boat, they had become stronger than ever before.

For another moment, the two men simply glanced at each other in mutual peace, then Wilhelm sighed heavily and sat up. He grimaced as his body too, gave him a lecture about uncontrolled behavior during love games, grumbled something under his breath, pulled the blanket away, and swung the legs over the bed's edge.

Hogan gasped. "Oh… sweet Lord, Will!" Sitting up and ignoring the instantly angry burning in his butt, he reached out and placed a hand on the older man's shoulder blade, while he looked startled at the thin red scratches he had left on his lover's back, here and there having torn the soft skin.

"What is it?" Wilhelm asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"I…I scratched you – badly," Robert whispered, eyes full of shame. "I'm sorry, Will."

To his wonder, the older man only smiled. "A love bite and some scratches…well, foxes not only bite, they also use their little paws. No reason to freak out, Rob. These things happen during passion. And I think I gave you a little payback." He nodded with a grin towards the younger man's juncture between the right shoulder and neck.

Hogan lay down again and fingered for the bruise, smirking. "Well, just like you said yesterday: a scar worth to have because it was you who marked me."

Klink laughed softly in utter joy and rose with rather inelegant movements. "As proud as I am to give you my stamp, so to say, you should think about a way to cover it. The high collar of my uniform will help me, but you…" He chuckled. "We don't want to give our medic the shock of his life."

Robert rolled his eyes. "I think he already assumes something. He is no idiot, but an experienced man who was in the Service from the beginning. I can be mistaken, but when I see his gazes and this hidden amusement in his eyes, I think he knows more than he leads on."

"As long as he stays silent, I have no problem with it," Klink shrugged, walked stiffly around the bed – and stopped in his tracks as he saw the heap on the floor. Sighing, he picked the large bath towel up, careful not to enfold it. "What a clever trick, Rob. Our lines are clean and a dirty towel is no reason to suspect anything. Especially when I wash it out and let it dry before I give it to the laundry."

The American officer smiled. "I don't want to get the credit for someone else's thoughtfulness. Schultz gave me the advice to use it during our… not so platonic moments."

Klink turned into a pillar of salt, and his eyes became wide as saucers. "Schultz gave you…when did you speak with him about…why, for God's sake?" He stuttered, feeling himself blushing. Hell yes, Schultz knew about his nature and his damn weakness for this crazy American troublemaker, who lay in his bed and had the nerve to smile at him despite the topic. But this went too far.

A soft chuckle escaped Hogan. "He came in a few mornings ago here into your quarters – after our second…well, 'making out'. He knew what was up, because you were in a far too happy and hilarious mood. He gave me THE speech – practically the talk of a father or older brother." He snorted in amusement. "I felt thrown back in time when I was still an almost adult receiving a serious monologue from my first girlfriend's dad."

Still, Wilhelm stared in disbelief at him, then his expression darkened. "How dare Schultz to confront you like this – concerning our relationship!" He snarled.

Robert sighed, knowing that he had to smooth this out for Schultz's sake. "He was worried about you. He told me in unmistakable terms that I would be in really big trouble if I only would play a foul game with you – 'monkey-business', how he calls it. He came into the sleeping room, walked to the bathroom, saw the wet lines in the shower-tube, and asked me bluntly about the change in our relationship, saying clearly that it would do me no good if I would take advantage of you, only to let you fall afterwards." A smile appeared on his lips. "He really sounded like a stern father – or older brother. He likes you and sees a friend in you, therefore his worry that you would get hurt because of me. Only after I convinced him that I'm absolutely serious about our changed relationship he was satisfied – promised me that our secret would be safe with him and that he would cover for us whenever it would become necessary." He laughed quietly. "He really was sweet."

Klink let his head sink into his neck and stared at the ceiling, bath towel still in hands, frown disappearing. "I don't believe it. My Sergeant of the Guards lectures my senior POW officer about the seriousness concerning his love life with the camp's Kommandant."

The colonel chuckled again. "He is very protective of you, Will. No doubt left. And this after you're complaining about and with him at every given chance."

Something flashed in Wilhelm's eyes as he glanced back at his beloved. "He'll hear something completely different from me this morning, and if he still is protective of me afterwards, he's crazy."

"Will," Robert reasoned with him gently. "Schultz really likes you and sees a kind of younger brother in you. He feared that I was up to something tricky that would hurt you. I think it's not only sweet – in a special way it was even his duty." He caught the German's asking glance, and explained. "Your safety is his duty. Not only bullets or other weapons present danger, a lie or a betrayal can cause grave injuries, too – not only the body, but the soul. A hurting soul can be deadly in its own way. Schultz knows how strong you feel for me. He feared that you would be deeply hurt if I were up to a foul game. As he realized that our relationship is for me important like it is for you, he calmed down. Heavens, he even offered his support and gave me the advice with the big bath towel so that the boys who do the laundry don't get suspicious of your sudden additional usage of too much lines. This, combined with me living here, really would lead to only one conclusion – and not all men are tolerant like Schultz is. For many, it is a crime what we do, so we have to be careful. Schultz's decision to intervene and to help us in his own way got us rid of one risk. So please, don't rebuke him, but thank him because he proved one time more that he is indeed my friend and yours."

Klink pondered what his American counterpart had said, and he could turn all he wanted and regard it from all sides: Hogan was right. Like so often. Dammit! His beloved really was a clever fox.

"Okay, you're right. I shouldn't give Schultz an ear full." He made a face. "But to think that he had the guts to confront you at all is…well, it demands respect." He shook his head. "Big Schlawiner! (German/Bavarian slang for prankster) Sometimes I don't know if I should curse or kiss him."

"Cursing is unwholesome, and you're allowed only to kiss one man: me!"

Wilhelm snorted in amusement. "Possessive much?" he asked, lifting both eyebrows.

"Very," Robert nodded, and Will got the hint. Letting the towel fall, he returned to the bed, bent down, and gave his beloved a deep, warm kiss before he straightened his lanky frame, smiled at him, and went to the bathroom, picking up his bathrobe and the towel on the way.

With a satisfied and absolutely happy sigh, Hogan let himself sink back into the pillows, only to grimace again. Dammit, to sit down today would be a big, BIG, problem.

*** HH *** HH ***

The morning went by uneventful – at least for the men in Stalag 13. While Burkhalter still fought with his interims-post at the OHK, Schmidt tried to find out more about 'Little Manfred's' still living relatives.

He was able to reach Bornheim's sister-in-law in Prenzlau at the phone. The little village that was near the Baltic Sea was overcrowded with escapees from East-Prussia, and the young woman already hosted two families in her house beside her own three children. She was shocked to learn that her sister-in-law had been killed in the air-raid four days ago that was still the main-topic within the town, yet she was also glad to hear that her nephew had survived.

Like this, Schmidt learned the true name of the baby: Johann Manfred Alfred Bornheim. The Oberleutnant managed it in the last second to stay serious, because – hey! – coincidentally he had given 'his' foundling a name the little guy was indeed christened with.

As it came to the question of taking Manfred in, the young woman sounded almost desperate because she barely managed to feed her own children, not to speak of the support she was ought to give her 'guests'. Schmidt didn't press her further. He could understand that she tried to avoid this new duty given her situation.

Unfortunately, he couldn't get more information about the other relative: Alfred Bornheim's sister Charlotte Schwaigel. She and her brother in Prenzlau hadn't spoken with each other for more than four years – 'different points of view', how Schmidt learned. He didn't need to ask further questions. He knew that those 'different points of view' certainly were about Germany's regime and politics (if you could call the latter still 'politics' at all). At least he learned the last address where Bornheim's sister Charlotte lived before the siblings cut off any contact.

Thanking the young woman and promising here that Manfred was well cared for, he ended the talk. Fuhrmann came half an hour later. He had gathered some more information about Charlotte Schwaigel. The address was still the same one Schmidt had gotten from Bornheim's sister-in-law, yet he learned that her husband had been killed in an air-raid last year in September near Frankfurt. Frau Schwaigel obviously had no telephone, and Schmidt didn't think it right to contact the Gestapo in the area to summon her to speak with him via phone.

Sighing, he glanced at his desk. Files and more files were piling up on it, so he decided to make the next necessary step concerning Manfred tomorrow or the day after. He ordered his ordinance to get him a ticket for the train – something only Wehrmacht, SS, and Gestapo members were legalized for after most railways were destroyed by the Allies. The trains within Germany were now only for strict use by members of the military and executive forces – or for supplies for the boys at the fronts.

Afterwards, he took care of the daily routine and the many, many files which held nothing else than appalling suspicion against many, certainly utterly, respectable citizens. You really had to be paranoid to get all those ideas. Members of the Gestapo and SS got concerning, completely harmless events. He thought back to Hochstetter and the former major's obsession with Colonel Hogan. Insanity seemed to lurk in every shadow within Germany now, and Schmidt was tempted to wish that the Allies would gain victory and send those maniacs to Satan's realm, because otherwise normality would never be restored within this country.

*** HH *** HH ***

With good reason, Hogan had stayed silent about his longer trip to the tunnels on Saturday with Wilson. He really would have had a problem explaining while he felt 'fit' on Sunday after the trip and now feeling like hell after walking a few steps through Klink's quarters.

Joe Wilson scratched his head and watched his superior half hobbling, half creeping to the bathroom. Hogan was obviously not well and complained about aching muscles in his thighs and his lower back. Hm, a stiffness of the muscles like this only because of the short walk over the compound yesterday? That was…unusual, to put it mildly. Hogan had been up a lot during the last few days. On the other hand, the colonel had stayed in bed for more than two weeks without big interruptions and maybe he overdid it in his urge to be his old, independent self again.

Hogan had refused to do anything else than lie down. The medic was baffled that the colonel even snapped at him to leave him alone, but then he saw his superior going to the bathroom – and the movements were…well…extravagant. As the door opened and Hogan vanished into the refreshing area, Wilson saw a very large bath towel hanging over the holdfast of the shower curtain, but also two other standard bath towels hanging for drying at the hooks on the wall. A third big towel? For what sake did two men need three bath towels and…

And it began to dawn on Wilson why Hogan seemed to have a lot of trouble to walk today – or to sit down in his presence. And the scarf the officer all of a sudden wore around his neck also became a new meaning. 'Fear of relapsing because it's so cold,' had been Hogan's explanation that had taken the medic by surprise, because it was very warm in the qaurtrs. Now it made sense.

Hogan wasn't afraid of catching a new cold. He was afraid certain tracks would be visible. Tracks which spoke more volume than the whole encyclopedia.

Snickering to himself, Wilson granted his superior the time out, wished him a "Get better soon, sir," and left the quarters, laughing inwardly his head off. Well, love making between men could lead to certain consequences – especially in the beginning – and it was clear that Hogan was suffering these 'consequences'.

Shaking his head in amusement, Wilson strolled over the compound to his own Barracks, glanced shortly at the Kommandantur, and asked himself if Klink was suffering likewise, imagine the Oberst squirming on his seat. Then he wiped those thoughts away. They really were indecent.

*** HH ***

LeBeau called the two colonels to lunch, hearing the German officer washing his hands in the bathroom while Hogan came slowly out of the sleeping room, wearing his house coat and a scarf around his neck.

"I have to be careful. The window was open too long, and I don't want to relapse," Hogan explained, as he saw LeBeau's confused glance.

Louis nodded. "A good idea. Just take a seat, mon colonel. I will bring the lunch immediately," he said kindly.

"Uh, thanks, LeBeau," Hogan nodded, but remained standing beside his usual chair.

Klink appeared and beamed at the Frenchman. "It smells formidable, Corporal. What will you serve today?"

"Chicken in wine sauce with rice," LeBeau answered, and Klink frowned.

"From where did you get the wine?"

"From your storage," Louis said cheerfully, smirked as he saw the Kommandant's shocked gaze, and walked whistling to the kitchen. Before he entered, he stopped and rolled his eyes. He had forgotten to ask what the two officers wanted to drink. Turning around, he stopped dead in his tracks. With large eyes, he watched Hogan finally sitting down, very slowly and carefully, with an almost painful grimace and a barely suppressed groan. What the heck? Then he heard Klink chuckling, followed by a quiet "Troubles, my witty fox?"

"No repeat of this tonight, or I'll have to put my butt into a bucket with cold water for the whole day tomorrow," the colonel gritted out.

"Tja (well), this would be a sight to behold," Klink teased, what earned him a dark glare followed by an eye roll and impish, yet suffering, smirk.

LeBeau felt his whole face burning up. It was almost clear what had occurred the night prior. And as Louis heard the pet-name Klink had used for Hogan, and the colonel's reply concerning a bucket with icy water to cool his butt, every last doubt vanished through the window. They had slept with each other – and who had been on the 'bottom' so to say, was also clear. And the scarf became a complete new meaning all of sudden. Hickeys – big hickeys – were difficult to hide when you only wear pajamas and a house coat. A scarf was a very nice cover in this case.

The Frenchman was not prude – far from it – but now his cheeks burned with embarrassment. Gulping and deciding to simply ignore what he had just heard and concluded, he hastened into the kitchen. He would need brain bleach to forget the imagination he got as he heard the two officers tease.

*** HH ***

Wilson left Hogan alone on Tuesday, but became very strict on the next day. Grimacing, the colonel made a few rounds over the compound, but obviously everything that had troubled him the day prior had more or less vanished. Yet Robert caught himself malingering to gain a few more days he could spend in Will's quarters by limping and making a show of how much effort it cost him to be up. Yes, the dutiful part of him was ashamed. On the other hand, London had no new tasks for his men and him – and even had skipped to ask Klink more questions about the project in Thuringia. The whole reason why Hogan learned of the Berlin air-raid at all. So, a few days more of the current living arrangements wouldn't hurt.

Wednesday passed by, too. In Berlin, the last of the fires had died down, and the rescue workers could finally enter all streets. The degree of destruction was disastrous and even the most experienced firemen suffered from traumas as they had to recover the many burnt or slain dead bodies, which seem to find no end in number.

The brass and the Führer's direct staff continued to keep the rising numbers of victims a secret, while they returned to the surface and tried to take over their offices again, planning revenge. On Thursday, Burkhalter was released from his unwilling position as acting CO in Zossen, but remained in the base, winning Goering's and Hitler's approval to take over the upcoming last tests of the new rocket launchers and rockets. He already had some ideas where and how to proceed with the project and found agreement within the brass. The tests had to be done at a place the Allies would never attack, and there were only a few options left – namely the KZ and POW-camps. The first were unrealistic to use, therefore the POW-camps were the best choice. It wasn't the first time that one of those camps had been used for the Wehrmacht's and Luftwaffe's tests.

To his frustration, Goering suggested – of course – Stalag 13. The Reichsmarschall had been impressed by Klink's null-escape-record and the Saxonian's way to keep a leveled head during the crises within the last few weeks – especially during the air-raid the Saturday prior. Burkhalter had told him how cold-calculating his 'awesome Oberst' had been and promptly the head of the Luftwaffe had chosen the 'toughest POW-camp in all of Germany' to be the perfect and safest place in the country to make the last rocket tests. That the Geneva Conventions forbid something like this didn't matter for him.

Sighing, Burkhalter had agreed. What other choice did he have? Fortunately, the rockets and the portable launching pads wouldn't be ready for the final tests until the end of February – enough time to prepare everything. But without informing Klink in advance. Knowing the Saxonian, he would complain about the breaking of the Conventions. And knowing Hogan, the American would scream bloody murder for endangering the camp like this. But Burkhalter couldn't have any regard for something like this now. Even if an inner voice whispered that it would make everything worse and the evil hour would be put off, he saw no other chance for Germany to continue to fight.

And so, he began to make plans for the last level of the tests, while the engineers did their best to finish the whole new weapon in new record time.

*** HH *** HH ***

In Stalag 13, no one could even assume what the Berlin brass was planning to do with the camp. Wilson trained Hogan's muscles during the morning and the afternoon of Wednesday more sternly than before and already promised him another day of hard training – something Hogan really didn't look forward to.

The whole, relative calm routine of the following two days changed on Thursday – not in Stalag 13, but the world outside of the wires. A day prior, the Red Army had crossed the Oder River in the southwest of the town Breslau and got ready to attack the town. The same day, Paraguay declared war against Nazi Germany – the first of many South and Middle-American countries who would make the same step within the following days. It was more or less only performance because none of those countries had even the chance to get an active part in the war, but it showed one thing for sure: the name World War had become a sad truth. In the end of February, more or less the whole world would have entered the official status of being at war.

During the morning of Thursday, the British Home Office published the number of civil victims since the war started. Approx. 57,000 Brits had been killed since the first attack. Parallel, the Canadian Army began to attack the German Defense at the border between the Netherlands and Germany, while in the east the fight for every meter continued.

Those things were unknown to the habitants of the camp – no matter if German guard or POW, or the two lovebirds who did a poor job of hiding their happiness. And it was also unknown to Schmidt, who had been driven to Würzburg where he could board a train that drove into the direction of Frankfurt. Usingen was located in the north of the Main-metropole Frankfurt at the edge of the Taunus-hills, and Schmidt knew that he would have to hire a car when he arrived in Frankfurt. He didn't like to leave von Neuhaus in charge, but the Leutnant was the second in command by rank, so he had no other choice.

Of course he knew that several of his men had no understanding that he put his back into the whole matter concerning Little Manfred and now even traveled in person to the baby's aunt at the other side of Germany. But he took his responsibility very seriously. The little guy had wriggled himself into his heart – closely followed by a certain young lady with shining blond hair and a sweet smile.

Hilda was worried, as he told her on the phone the evening prior that he would take a train to Frankfurt and would visit the child's aunt in Usingen. You never could tell when and where the next air-raids happened, and so she was more than concerned.

At a calm minute, she left the Kommandantur and went to Klink's quarters, not caring what the others may think or say. That she and Colonel Hogan were on friendly terms, so to say, was an open secret, and being him the perfect gentleman, there wouldn't be any rumors of indecency.

Yet Robert was surprised to hear the entrance door open and recognized Hilda a few moments later, as she stepped into the living room where he sat together with Kinchloe and Newkirk. Both had come through the hidden entrance beneath the furnace and were discussing with their superior some new issues from London. The Allies' brass hadn't pressed Klink for more information, and therefore Hogan was more relaxed when London sent messages.

"Hilda." Hogan (still wearing the scarf Will had lend him) rose, just like the other two males did, and bowed his head. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Hilda smiled shortly at him, glad that he was doing so much better. The bruises on his face were mere shadows by now, and his movements had become more powerful. It was obvious that it was only a question of days until he would be declared as good as healed and would return to his own quarters.

"I'm sorry if I interrupt something," she said to him, while she gave Kinch and Newkirk a short, warm nod.

"No problem." Hogan shrugged. "Is something wrong?" He asked, seeing at her stance and in her eyes that she was more than tensed.

Klink's secretary sighed. "Robby, we never spoke openly about it, but we both – all four and the rest of your team – know that I'm aware of your little secrets and that I helped you here and there. Sometimes I even supported your missions fully." She kneaded her hands – a display of uncertainty he had never seen on her ever before. "And…now it's me who is in need for support."

"What happened?" He addressed her seriously, knowing that she would have never brought up the issue if she weren't in need. "Are you in trouble?" Despite his love for Will, he would never allow any harm befall on her. For this, he liked and respected her too much.

"No, it's not about me." She took a deep breath and straightened her slender frame. "Oberleutnant Schmidt traveled to Usingen this morning. Manfred's aunt lives there, and Horst wants to speak in person with her. Usingen is 30 km in the north of Frankfurt am Main and…and I want to know if the Allies plan something against Frankfurt or its area today or tomorrow. It would calm me if I know if…if he's to face danger like he, the Kommandant, and Schultz did in Berlin – or General Burkhalter."

It hadn't slipped Hogan's, Kinch's, or Newkirk's attention that she used the Oberleutnant's given name. James and Peter quickly glanced at their superior, almost expecting his face to darken because they knew that he was the type of man who would never tolerate a rival. Yet Hogan was still fully relaxed and only showed concern for Hilda. Well, a proof more that his affection had turned to someone else – to a lanky someone with monocle.

Hilda still looked at Robert, and it was obvious that she was really worried for Schmidt.

'Uh-uh, from there comes the wind,' Robert thought, imagining Schmidt, Hilda, and a baby in the picture. 'They would make a nice couple – maybe even family,' he thought. And, what showed him that he really was in love with Will, was the fact that there didn't rise any jealously from his side. Hilda and he had flirted, kissed, made-out – yet the little green monster didn't raise its head at the prospect that the young woman was developing feelings for another man. If all, Rob was almost relieved about it. He knew that she liked him a lot – maybe even more – and he already had wracked his brain how to turn her down without hurting her. Maybe, if she got feelings for young Schmidt, the whole problem would solve itself.

Sweet Lord, the world had really changed for him.

He exchanged a quick glance with Kinchloe, who nodded shortly an affirmation before he turned his attention back to Hilda. "I can't promise you anything, but I'll call you as soon as I get some information, okay?"

Hilda blinked. "You call me?" She asked, thunderstruck.

Grinning, he flipped a thumb towards the phone. "I'm officially linked with the rest of the camp; don't you agree?"

She laughed quietly and gave him one of her beaming smiles. "Thank you, Robby." She turned serious again and lowered her head. "Don't…don't be angry that I'm concerned for the Oberleutnant, but…"

"Why should I be angry with you?" Hogan interrupted her softly. "He is a nice guy – and a fine man. One who knows what honor means."

Frowning, she cocked his head. "You're not jealous?"

Hogan grimaced, rubbed his neck, took a deep breath, and said finally, "We both know that there wouldn't be a real future for us. And I have the feeling that within the last months we developed a more a kind of…comradely friendship instead of…love. So…" Dear God, why was this so difficult?

Hilda pursed her lips. "You found someone else," she deadpanned. Promptly he flushed – an odd view regarding the fact who and what he was: the leader of the unruliest espionage-ring in all of Germany with Death constantly about to get him. And now he flushed like a boy because she said him plainly that he had to have someone else because he didn't become jealous about her developing a relationship with Horst Schmidt. Sometimes he really was what Klink said about him here and there: an oversized boy – a boy with a very dangerous job.

Hogan moistened his lips. "Well… yes," he murmured quietly, very aware of his two friends' presences behind him. And knowing them, they got very big ears just now.

Hilda watched him almost squirming, enjoyed his uncomfortableness a few seconds, and finally chuckled softly. "It's okay, Robby. I'm not angry." She went to him, stepped on her toes, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I hope you'll be happy."

"Thank you." He breathed in relief. "For you the same."

"So, Schmidt is on his way to the baby's aunt. About time. After all, it was him who dropped the little one at your doorstep," Peter said.

Hilda giggled gently. "He asked for my help. And after I saw Manfred, I fell for him. He is so sweet. He cuddles a lot, bubbles with tiny laughter, and all but flirts with my family and me. And with Horst. I think Horst is smitten with him like I am."

The three men looked shortly at each other. Maternal instincts. There was nothing stronger on the world.

"What if his aunt can't take him in?" Hogan raised the next logical topic. "What then?"

Hilda sighed and lifted both hands. "I don't know. I would not mind to take further care of him. The farm grants our survival, certainly even after the war, and Horst promised to support us. Maybe if Manfred's relatives have no chance to take him in, I can keep him – officially, of course."

"To adopt him won't be easy." Kinch added for consideration. "You're not married and…"

Hilda shrugged. "I don't think the authorities will be the same after the war, and the laws will have changed, but nevertheless one thing certainly will apply also then: every solved problem is a problem less." She took a deep breath. "I'll just wait for what Horst will achieve. The rest comes later."

Hogan smiled at her. "If you need help, just tell us, okay?" He glanced at Kinchloe. "Would you please be so nice?"

James nodded, walked to the furnace, pushed it away, and climbed down the ladder. Hilda's eyes became wide as saucers before she looked at Hogan and pointed an index finger at him.

"You! You…scallywag! You even have a tunnel ending in Klink's quarters?"

"Why, of course," Robert answered, with another grin. "And, before you lecture me of taking advantage of the 'poor Kommandant', he already knows about us – just like you do."

"But please, don't give away any internal details to 'Horst' when you two have another nookie," Peter deadpanned.

"Newkirk!" That came from both Hogan and Hilda, and the British pilot had to grin.

Shaking his head in a mute rebuke, Hogan returned his attention to Hilda, who glared shortly at Newkirk before she glanced up at the American colonel again. "So, the Kommandant knows about you and the others?" She asked, flabbergasted. "And he doesn't get a heart attack?"

Robert sighed. "Actually, he's known about us for more than two years now and had a big part of sending the Gestapo on goose hunts or to turn a blind eye and deaf ear on us. He told me a few days after he got me away from Hochstetter. As it seems, Willie is our big protector."

"And the Gov'nor didn't realize it until the Balding Eagle revealed himself to him," Newkirk snickered, nodding in Hogan's direction.

"Do you want an extra shift of exercising, Peter?" Hogan asked with faked kindness, but only earned another smirk from his inferior and friend.

Hilda snorted unladylike in amusement, stemmed her hands on the hips, and shook her head. "Boys, behave!" She chuckled. "So, Klink covers for you for years now – just like I do or Schultzie." She shook her head. "You're a lucky guy, Robert Hogan."

He wasn't aware of the big smile that appeared on his face. "I know," he affirmed, brown eyes gleaming.

"And don't forget it," She laughed and turned to leave.

"I'll call you when I know more, okay?" Robert said, and the young woman flashed him another smile. Then she left the wooden building.

"She calls him 'Horst'," Newkirk said, watching Hogan closely. He wasn't really surprised that the colonel only shrugged.

"They fit nicely together," he said, and sat down on the sofa again.

Peter only pursed his lips. After what he heard from LeBeau three days ago after he served lunch for the two officers, and Hogan's reaction a minute ago, there was no further proof needed. The two colonels were a couple in all senses of the word – and it didn't repulse him, but amused him.

*** HH ***

It lasted not more than a quarter hour, and Hogan could call Hilda in Klink's anteroom to tell her that no attacks against the area around Frankfurt, South-Hessen and North-Bavaria were planned within the next two days. Kinch had not only asked for Frankfurt, but for the whole part of Germany Schmidt traveled through. Hilda was more than relieved, thanked Hogan gratefully, and concentrated on her work again. There was a lot she had to catch up with after having the last three days free to take care of Manfred.

While Schmidt arrived in the late midday in Frankfurt and went to the next Gestapo and SS office to lend a car from his 'colleagues', Hogan and Klink sat together during lunch, speaking about the Oberleutnant's trip both had learned about from Hilda.

"I'm touched that Schmidt took the effort and drove in person to Usingen," Klink said, while finishing his meal. "And I don't think this is only because he takes his responsibility very seriously. I think he really loves the little guy."

Hogan saw the gentleness in the older man's eyes and teased. "He's obviously not the only one who had taken the boy into his heart."

"That little one is cute," Will admitted. "I held him during a halt near Kassel. It's something special when you have such a tiny human in your arms – so vulnerable and helpless, yet so trusting."

Robert nodded, a soft smile played around his lips. "And so 'Little Manfred' caught a hand full of people. You, Schultz without any doubt, Schmidt, Hilda, and even her parents." He cocked his head. "And, as a nice side-effect, Hilda and Schmidt see each other on regular basis now."

Klink shortly pursed his lips before he made an affirming gesture. "She told me about his visits during the last few days, and her eyes shone with a certain gleam. I think that she's begun to develop feelings for him. And when I remember the way Schmidt looked at her as we brought Manfred to her parent's farm…" He watched Robert closely. "Would it be a problem for you if they grow closer?"

Robert blinked. "Why should this be a problem for me?"

Lifting both brows, Will rolled his eyes. "Because, my witty fox, I know that you and her not only flirted with each other, but there was even more. So…"

Hogan sighed before he pressed his lips shortly into a thin line and finally looked straight into Will's eyes. "I would have had a problem with it a few months ago. I really was attracted to her, and I hold great respect for her because she's a fine lady. But…despite some kisses and so on, there was never more. And…since you and me…are together, I…I can't imagine to have a relationship with someone else and starting a family."

"So, you wouldn't mind if Hilda finds someone else?" Wilhelm asked, relieved, and Hogan chuckled, knowing the real hidden question beneath those words.

"No, I wouldn't – because I have you now, and this is everything I want." He smiled lugubriously to himself. "If Hilda finds an honest and honorable man, I would be glad because it would relieve me from a bad conscience I got concerning her. I really want the best for her – and that isn't me. So, if she and Schmidt get together, I'll happily give them my blessing. And I would take Schmidt under my protection. To the say the truth, inwardly I already did so. I'll make certain that he doesn't face much trouble after the war. SS-men are on the black list of the Allies, but Schmidt isn't in this unit by his own free will and, above all, he is a fine man – and he helped me not once, but two times. He covered for LeBeau, and now he even overgrew himself to take care of a child for what he isn't ready for. If he and Hilda really develop feelings for each other, I'll make certain that they have a future together – without him being imprisoned for years."

Klink laughed quietly and looked full of love at the younger man. "This is so much you, Robert. You show mercy even against your declared enemies – and you protect all those you regard as decent and honorable people. If there would be more of you in the world, then there wouldn't be any war ever again."

To his horror, Hogan blushed like a school-boy, what earned him a soft laughter from his secret lover. Sweet Lord, where was the deft, crafty, playing-it-always-cool colonel when he needed him the most?

TBC…