Five: Afterward

"Did the Major go out of his way to pick a room as far away from the lifts as possible?" Dorian grumbled as they entered the officer's hotel suite and base of operation.

Even with the combined efforts of the agents, it had been a difficult task to get the unconscious Major to his room in a dignified manner. The easiest way would have been for someone to carry him over their shoulder. But considering how he was dressed, it would not have been the most effective way to keep a low profile. In the end, Dorian put one Klaus's arm over his shoulder, and Z took the other, and between them, they were able to half-carry, half-drag the Major to his room.

Dorian stretched his sore shoulders once the officer was deposited on the bed. He turned to the perplexed agents and sighed. "Where are his pajamas?"

This was enough to return the others to reality. A looked up sharply, exchanging a startled look with B.

Dorian was already pulling Klaus to a sitting position. "A, B, help me get the Major out of this outfit." He looked up, ignoring the horrified expressions on the men's faces. "G, there's some cold cream in my make-up box. Would you—?" He broke off and waved a hand. "Never mind, just bring the whole thing. Then run some hot water so we can get this make-up off."

Z cleared his throat. "What shall I do, Lord Gloria?"

Dorian looked up. "After we've got this gown off, you can go through the petticoats. You're the one I was supposed to hand the papers off to, aren't you?"

Despite the fact that he knew this was where the documents were hidden, Z still felt his face flush at the thought of going through the skirt of a dress his commanding officer had worn. He quickly turned away, taking his time retrieving a pair of pajamas for the Major.

"Oh, and you can get Bonham down here, too. I think we shall need him."

Dorian did not elaborate further, having returned his attention to the unconscious Klaus. He had A and B support the officer in a sitting position while he removed the wig, jewelry and earpiece, all of which he handed to G as he went. Next he tackled the zipper, which was difficult to manage with the fabric torn along its seam in several places. Dorian finally gave up and simply finished the job by tearing the top of the dress open and pulling it down. It was quickly replaced by the pajama top.

Within a few difficult minutes, the gown itself was lying in a tattered heap on the floor. Z was handed the petticoats with the hidden pockets and he quickly vanished into the next room. G disappeared into the bathroom and started running hot water into the basin. A and B exchanged glances and wondered what the Earl would be asking them to do next as the last of the disguise was removed. To their relief, the answer was simply for them to support the Major as his pajama pants were pulled up…over his under shorts.

Dorian did not even notice the men's ill ease until he had the Major's pants up. He sighed heavily but did not comment directly. "B, get the covers down, please." Looking up, he saw G in the bathroom doorway with a damp cloth and towel. He waved a hand towards his make-up box. "There's some acetone in there, too, G."

Bonham arrived after the Major was deposited under the blankets. Dorian was in the process of removing the make-up from his face while G worked on removing the nail polish from his hands.

"Strewth! What's 'appened t' our Major?" Bonham gasped.

Dorian looked up and sighed, waving him in. "It's a long story."

Bonham looked at the pile of fabric that had once been an evening gown. "Mr. James'll not be pleased."

Dorian turned back to finish what he was doing, which was wiping the Major's face with a wet cloth to remove any remnants of make-up and cold cream. "Fortunately, that was a Christian Dior knock-off. And James will just bill NATO for it."

By this time, Bonham was standing at the foot of the bed. "Is'at why y'sent f'me, m'lord?"

"No." The Earl looked up. "I need your expertise in a…delicate matter."

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It was very early morning when Klaus finally returned to his senses, his internal clock waking him despite the foreign chemicals still lingering in his system. He opened his eyes and groaned, a hand going to his head. When he turned, he saw Dorian curled up on the bed beside him. He gave him a small smile, and then frowned. This isn't right. What the hell's he doing here? And during a mission!

Klaus tried to sit up and groaned again, this time waking Dorian in the process. It wasn't until the Earl sat up that Klaus realized he had been sleeping on top of the blankets, having wrapped himself in another. He was also dressed in a pair of the Major's pajamas.

"Good morning," Dorian said guardedly. "How're you feeling?"

"I feel like hell." This time Klaus managed to sit up and swing his feet off the bed. "What the fuck happened? The last thing I remember was that idiot insisting I drink that…that…"

"Drugged drink."

Klaus turned sharply, which he regretted. "Was?" He put a hand to his head, but his memory was irritatingly blank. Then he struggled to his feet. "I need to take a piss."

"Are you steady enough?"

Several things flashed through Klaus's mind, some of which were of intimate encounters with the Earl while in the bathroom. "I think I can take a piss on my own," he said as he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Dorian took advantage of this to dash into the next room and wake the Alphabets, informing them that their commanding officer was finally awake. He left them amid a flurry of activity, returning to find Klaus had not reappeared. He sat down on the end of the bed and waited.

A few minutes later, an unsteady Klaus reemerged and returned to the bed, sitting down heavily beside the Earl.

Dorian observed his dejected manner and realization dawned. "Major, your mission was a success, not a failure," he said firmly. "Z delivered the documents last night, as planned."

Klaus looked up, his eyes wide. Before he could say a word, the Earl was telling him of the attack by the man who had drugged him and exactly what had happened afterward.

"Canadian?" the Major said quietly. Probably French Canadian. That explains the accent.

"Bonham contacted a very discreet doctor who came and drew some blood," Dorian was saying. "Then Mr. Z took him to NATO's Paris office to have it analyzed. You don't have to worry about failing any drug tests."

Before Klaus could think of a suitable response, there was a soft knock at the door followed by A's voice. "Sirs?"

Dorian shot the Major a sideways glance before calling back, "Come in, A."

The agent hesitantly peeked around the door, relief washing visibly over him when he saw the pair sitting at the end of the bed…fully clothed. "Erm…Major? Z's returned. He said the Summit is going on as planned." He paused. "Shall I call room service for some breakfast for you, sir?"

"No. Have everyone get ready to return to Bonn."

"Major, you're not going anywhere without eating something," Dorian broke in forcefully.

"We'll leave after breakfast," Klaus shot back. He got unsteadily to his feet again, waving a hand towards the door. "Now get out of here so I can get dressed without you leering at my ass."

"I don't leer, I ogle," Dorian corrected as he rose to his feet. "And you happen to have a very nice ass."

Klaus found he did not have the energy to argue. "Whatever. Just be sure you have those pajamas cleaned properly before you return them."

"Who said anything about returning them?" Dorian said with a grin, rubbing his hands over the material covering his chest. "They're very comfortable."

"Do not even think about doing indecent things in my pajamas!"

"I'd rather do indecent things out of your pajamas, Major," Dorian purred as he closed the door, hearing, "Pervert!" from the other side. He gave Agent A a brilliant smile. "He's back in full voice." So saying, he breezed from the room, heading back to his own suite to change.

A turned to look at B, who shrugged. Thank goodness it wasn't a long flight back to Bonn.

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