Chapter 11 The
Fuhrer's Pixie Man
The Fuhrer's secretary entered Frank's office without knocking. He stopped what he was writing and with fake warmth said "Ms Douglas, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"
She pulled an envelope out of her jacket pocket, handed it to him and said "The Fuhrer requests your company at his private estate."
Frank's eyebrows jumped and he said "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this honor?"
Juliet frowned and said "I have not the pleasure to know."
She turned around and left his office. Frank grew concerned 'The way we left off...is...he...interested in me?' His mind worked a mile a minute. 'How can I use this to my advantage, but not get too involved?'
Frank arrived later that evening at the Fuhrer's estate. He wore his uniform, shoes polished to a blinding shine, and his hair combed back as usual. He was let in by a servant and walked to the Fuhrer's personal library. He sat in a luxurious rawhide couch and accepted an offer of tea from the butler.
After a few minutes of waiting Frank stood and walked over to a bay window situated between the two tall bookcases. He clasped his hands behind his back and sighed at the beauty of the stars in a velvety black sky. He surprised himself at thought of Sila. Just as he began to recall their first encounter the Fuhrer entered the room.
Frank turned around to salute the superior officer when he stopped and gasped.
The Fuhrer was wearing a smoking jacket, pj bottoms, and a smoking a pipe. Frank suspected this meeting would touch on a personal subject but he did not believe it would be so casual. He finished his salute and the Fuhrer said "At ease Lieutenant Colonel" then asked Archer to take a seat.
The Fuhrer's mustache hid his smile. Frank could not be at ease. Frank sat with perfect but tense posture and the Fuhrer sat back, his arms resting along the back of the couch and his legs crossed on the love seat across from Frank. 'What is going on?' thought Frank.
'Oh my little pixie Frank is nervous. "Would you like a drink Archer?" asked the Fuhrer.
'I may need one to relax enough to get through this.' "Yes sir, please."
"Brandy?"
"Fine, thank you."
The Fuhrer got up and swaggered across the room to the bar set up there. It occurred to Frank that it was unusual for there to be a bar in a library, but he didn't care much when the Fuhrer winked at him with his good eye. Frank clutched his knees feeling the bind he was in. 'Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! Why is Fuhrer Bradley behaving in such a way?!' "So Fuhrer, please, what did you want to discuss? Was it my work with the—"
The Fuhrer laughed boisterously as he clinked in some ice into two crystal tumblers. He poured the brand while explaining "This evening is not about work, Frank."
The hair on the back of Archer's neck stood on end when he heard the Fuhrer say his first name so casually. Frank replied half laughing at the ludicrous situation "Well then, I should be going…"
"No no" said Bradley "I brought you here to relax and to learn more about you."
Franks stomach did a lip. Frank tried to smile, but it came out as wince. When the Fuhrer handed him his drink Frank quickly downed the rest of his brandy. The Fuhrer then walked behind a very nervous Archer, sitting quite erect on the couch.
'My little pixie man! How I want you to dance on the battlefield for me!' "Archer?" questioned the Fuhrer. Archer turned stiffly to look up and back at the man who commanded him.
The look in the Fuhrer's eye was a bit disturbing. Archer saw stars in the Fuhrer's eyes. King Bradley asked him "What do you enjoy most , Archer?"
The Fuhrer leaned over the back of the couch and tried to catch Archers blue eyes. Frank looked away
"I enjoy battle above all else, sir. All else" replied an inwardly frantic Archer.
The Fuhrer put his hand on Archer's tense shoulder. He felt Frank's lean frame tense and thought of his dream of Frank prancing through the battlefield.
'Dear god. This is NOT happening!' thought Frank.
'Oh my little pixie man is shy!' "No need to hide it any longer, Frank" said the Fuhrer. He pulled out some copies of the pictures of Frank leaping through air and plopped the photos down on the couch. "Feel free to be yourself with me."
Frank saw the photos and felt his mouth go dry. His throat dried up too and he stared to cough uncontrollably.
The Fuhrer poured more brandy into Frank's glass and Archer downed and swallowed a melting ice cube. He put the glass on the table in front of him. He held onto it for moment thinking about his next move. He decided to address the pictures instead of Fuhrer Bardley's sexual preferences. Frank picked up the photos of him dancing, in a tutu.
'Shit, the one time I'm wearing that get up and I'm photographed…at least I look good.' "Ballet is an excellent exercise. Great strength training."
"In a pink tutu?"
Archer sighed "Yes. Armstrong was good enough to help me and all I had for him to wear was my uni-tard. The pink one was borrowed."
"The shoes?"
Frank turned a deep red, almost purple with embarrassment. "I know, I know pink and red don't go together. I know."
The Fuhrer laughed amused by his pixie-man. Archer didn't see how he could get out of this situation. He stood up with the photos in his hand mortified. "Who gave these to you?"
"Uh uh. Uuuuuh" tsek tsked the Fuhrer. "This is a matter of intelligence. I cant' give away the identity of my sources."
The Fuhrer went from smiling and jocular to immediately serious. He sternly said "I want you to dance for me!"
Frank said "Excuse me?" 'So he's not gay, just a ballet fan?'
"Right now."
'A fanatic ballet fan?'
The Fuhrer could not believe his luck. This man who invaded his dreams was there in front of him.
Frank said "If that is all you'd like I'd be pleased to—"
"Naked"
"No"
"Yes"
The Fuhrer hopped over the couch and surprised the Lieutenant Colonel with his nimbleness. Frank stood his ground but had to quell a bit of panic rising in his stomach. "I …" Frank did not know how to respond. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came.
Mrs. Bradley knocked on the door and popped her head in. She said "King dearest, do you want me to get the special brandy for you and…"
Her expression changed rapidly from courteous hostess to suspicious spouse. "Why are you wearing that?" she asked her husband.
Frank was able to recollect himself and took a few steps towards the door. Mrs. Bradley had let herself in and stood leaning forward with her hands on her hips.
The Fuhrer said "Oh you wouldn't understand.."
"Don't give me that!" she shook her finger at him.
As the couple became entangled in an argument "Don't wave that finger at me! I'm the leader of the free world!"
Frank inched his way to the door. He made it quietly into the hallway and clicked the door gently closed behind him.
Frank then ran as if his life were in danger. Archer ran past the butler, out the door, past his own car, creating a light dust trail down the driveway. He ran a few miles down the road in the dark and slowed to a stop.
He bent over resting his weight on his knees when he thought of Sila and knew he had to see her. He wasn't sure if it was because of love or because he needed to reassert his manhood after the emasculating moment with the Fuhrer and the photos or if he just wanted sex, He was just sure of what he wanted to do with Sila. 'Only with Sila. Yes it must be love'
Frank took a deep breath ad jogged his way back to the base.