Unrest spread across Europe. It had started two days earlier. A NATO mole inside the Kremlin had managed a brief report. Something big had happened. Moscow was heading quickly into a full-scale lock down. Why? Agent Chair of the Furniture Team didn't know, then the contact broke. In the morning several known KGB agents were spotted in Europe. An intercepted message to a spy told nothing of the situation in itself, but ordered the man to be prepared for action.
Klaus and his team were on stand-by, ready to leave at a moment's notice to wherever a situation cropped up that might actually shed some light on what was coming down.
However, not even NATO's Iron Klaus stayed on high alert 24 hours a day while nothing actually happened. Like all men he had to sleep - even if the beds temporarily lining the walls of the Alphabet's room were nothing to write home about ... He used his set of emergency clothes and had called for Herr Hinkel to drive up with more from Eberbach come morning. Like all men he also had to eat - though that could at least be accomplished one-handedly while reading a report or writing down some order or even talking over the phone. However, twice a day he had to leave the office for a quick visit to the nearest men's room and now, at 21.30 the third day, his bodily odour finally annoyed him enough that he saw no choice but to take half an hour off to shower. At that point in time it was unlikely that anything big would start and he knew he'd sleep better for it.
NATO headquarters could boast with a small gym in the basement with various training equipment and - of course - a shower. Klaus generally avoided public showers - who wanted a bunch of weirdos ogling his body or staring at his less than average penis anyway? To get through military communal showers had been difficult enough and had earned him a reputation of being a prude. Oh well. He preferred that rather than that they started harassing him about his penile dimensions ...
The NATO gym shower wasn't too bad, though. Not since one of the Prime Number Team agents had almost walked in on him and he had made perfectly clear what he thought of such a perversion. In fact, since then the normally rather well-populated gym had a tendency of emptying out on the rare occasions he showered there. That was why he wasn't very surprised when, on leaving the shower area with his hair still damp, he found the room deserted.
The light level of the training room had dimmed, though, which was not normal. He shifted his arm to make sure his shoulder holster lay properly and that his still slightly moist arm wouldn't pull on his shirt and thus hinder a quick draw.
"No need for that, major."
The well-known voice, which he honestly hadn't thought he would ever hear again, impacted strangely with his stomach, making it clench.
"You nuisance, what've you done to the men who trained here? Propositioned them so they fled like any decent men would?"
As he spoke he turned to the source of the voice, to find Eroica sitting artfully on one of the exercise machines. He didn't draw his Magnum, since he knew the Earl to be harmless. A nuisance, for sure, but essentially harmless.
A wonder he didn't get into the shower with me. Oh, yes, right - he is no longer interested.
The notion did take some getting used to. Apparently some daft part of him still expected things that were no longer potentially available.
"Oh, major, don't be silly. Bonham told them that the room was needed for a top secret meeting. He does have a way with words, Bonham, and he did carry official papers too - or official-looking papers, I should say - so they all left in a hurry."
Since there really was no further need of him actively dodging Eroica's attentions, he supposed he could afford to be civil. After all, the man did know something about him that he rather wouldn't want spread in one of the man's inexplicable bouts of pique. Not that he thought that the Earl really would tell anyone. The man did have a strange sense of honour.
Eroica hadn't actually said all that much about Klaus's ... attribute ... when Klaus had displayed it - though his eyes had spoken volumes - of shock, revulsion and pity ... Which had stung, yes. Of course it had. At least he hadn't laughed or else he would have walked out of the room with a broken jaw - or been carried out on a stretcher more likely. Still.
"Huh. Why? If you're in Bonn to loot Macke-Haus can you at least do it without bothering me?"
Even if he was a pessimist Klaus did try to find positive things when life dealt him bad cards. One of the good things with Eroica finding out was that Klaus had thought he at least from then on wouldn't get his work interrupted by obsessed art thieves.
The Earl rose from the machine. He looked strangely muted - it took Klaus a few seconds to figure out that it wasn't due to the poor lighting, but because of his clothes. On the normally so peacock Earl the silver sweater of crushed velvet, matte black trousers, black silk scarf and black leather boots looked positively demure. The only splash of colour was a bright red heart hanging from a silver necklace. In his left hand he held some papers.
"I'm not here to steal anything," the man said. His eyes were intent on Klaus's own and wide in a way Klaus couldn't quite read. "I have already stolen something, you see, and--"
"What? Now you think I'll give you safe haven, just because you've worked for NATO in the past?"
Klaus did recognize that having a "tame" thief hadn't been half bad. There had been a few missions since Latanirth that might have run smoother with someone along who was skilled at such things. The Chief had already requested Eroica to be consulted once and Klaus had been unwilling to argue any better reason than usual for not wanting to do that. "Perhaps if we sent Major Naviers to ask him instead, sir?" Klaus could imagine himself suggesting. He had seen Major Naviers once, by pure accident, when they had been forced to undress the man in a hurry and get him into the shower after a suspect had sprayed him with acid. The man was ... freakishly large. Luckily, his hand hadn't been forced.
"No, no. Not at all. I ... Oh, this is awkward." The Earl made a face that was half smile and half ... something else. He looked tired. "I ... I came to beg your forgiveness."
Klaus blinked. His confusion must have shown, for the thief suddenly knelt.
It was not a graceful kneeling, like a swain might sink down on one knee to ask the hand of his lady in holy matrimony. No, Eroica made no effort to catch himself, just landed heavily on his kneecaps in a way that must have hurt. He kept his back straight, though, and his eyes never wavered.
"I did you a horrible disfavour, Klaus, and I am deeply sorry."
The fop must want something. Wary of some ploy, Klaus shrugged. "You carried through with the mission. That was all I asked."
The man dropped his eyes, instead fixing them at Klaus's boots.
"I didn't think. I just reacted. Now I have ... had time to think things over. Please forgive me. I was a right berk. There's no other way to put it. I'm sorry, Klaus."
"I haven't given you permission to use my first name," he said, mostly as an experiment.
"I'm sorry, Major von dem Eberbach," was said at once, almost ... meekly? "Please, I'm at your feet now, begging you for a second chance."
"I don't remember giving you a first one."
Eroica reached up with his right hand and unclipped the shiny, red heart from the necklace. He placed it on the papers he had been holding and then used both hands to lay them down before Klaus's feet.
"My heart," said the fop. "Crush it if you will."
Klaus snorted. "That's not your heart. That's some shiny bauble you probably stole on a whim at the airport on your way here."
"Yes, but how else shall I prove my love to you? I really do love you, Klaus, no matter what. A second chance, that is all I ask for. I will do anything, Klaus, and I mean that, I really do this time. I'll steal only for you - never anything else, ever again, if that is your wish."
"Ha!"
"I'll turn myself in, if you want? I-I'll cut off my hair for you. I'll go to the House of Lords in a green mohawk. I'll openly declare my interest in sheep. Anything." The suggestions in themselves were ridiculous, of course, yet they were said with a certain determination, as if ...
Well, fuck me sideways, the fop seems to mean it. Huh. Now what do I do?
He had considered the possibility, of course. Before. The possibility of Dorian ... finding out, yet still ... wanting, still ... loving. Up until that day in Latanirth, the daft notion had popped up in his dreams - both when he was asleep and on the rare occasion that he wool-gathered. He had even considered different possible responses he could make if such a thing ever came about. But since that day, when Dorian had ... looked and then turned white with shock, Klaus had ruthlessly squashed away any such useless speculation as soon as it popped up.
"Why the change of heart?" he said.
** D/K ** D/K ** D/K **
Well ... that wasn't easily answered.
"I remembered that I love you. And ... Bonham made me see sense. I'm really, truly sorry, Major von dem Eberbach. I really was a berk. A stupid, insensitive, idiotic berk."
"This isn't some fairytale, Herr Gloria. I'm not under some curse that Love's True Kiss can cure."
What was he supposed to say? "You know, it might not be a problem after all. I'm really mostly a top anyway. Just give me a chance and I'll have you purring like a happy little major as I ride you towards heaven. I do like a bit of finger play, though, so if you would like to top now and then I do believe I can accommodate you quite nicely. And I've been thinking about it and I think I can get both your cock and most of your balls into my mouth at the same time. That would be rather interesting to try, wouldn't it?"
"I don't care," he said instead, his voice firm. "I think we can work things out."
Klaus snorted again.
** D/K ** D/K ** D/K **
The fop really did sound as if he meant it. Zur Hölle damit!
"Major von dem Eberbach?"
"What?"
Slowly, the bright blue eyes lifted from their lowered position. Without words they managed to plead with him even before the fop parted his lips.
"Please? Just one more chance. See, I'm on my knees here. We're alone, because I thought you would prefer it if I didn't make a scene. If you want I will do this out in the lobby. Or out on the street. On national television. Just say the word. Please? Y-you don't have to commit to anything. We can just let things return to how they were, if you like. I'll behave, though. I'll try my best never to ruin your missions again and just help you with whatever I can. Without any theatrics. You have my most solemn word. Please?"
Klaus looked around, making sure that they really had no audience. Then he glanced at the fragile-looking heart. What would the Earl do if he just stepped on it? Though symbolic, he had a feeling that if he did he would never see the fop again. All his admittedly paranoid instincts told him that the man really would respect his decision, whatever he decided.
"I expected you to go," he said.
The other blinked, then nodded slowly.
"When you saw ... it," he continued. "It's not exactly pretty."
"It looked fully functional, though. Major von dem Eberbach - I swear--"
"I'm a realist, you wanker. Of course I knew it would shock you. I knew there wasn't much of a chance you might react otherwise. I don't believe in fairytales. I expected you to go. I ... didn't think that you might come crawling back."
"But crawling I am. And if you just let me, I will worship you from now on."
"Ha! Get on your feet."
The Earl did so, albeit somewhat shakily.
"As I said, I didn't expect you to return. You did. You ask for a second chance. I can't give you that. I never give anyone a second chance."
Dorian's mouth opened, as if he was about to protest. Then he closed it, looking down again. "I'm sorry that you--" he began to say, his voice rough, though Klaus paid him no heed.
"I'll give you a first one, though. Don't prove me wrong."
Cornflower blue eyes lit up and the serious face transformed into a vision of radiant joy that almost made Klaus want to take a step back. He half expected the man to leap at him, but instead Dorian bent to retrieve the heart and the papers. Still smiling beatifically, he offered him both.
Klaus wasn't about to touch something so foppish.
"If I feel the need to crush your heart I know where to find it," he said. For a second he dropped his gaze to a place located roughly between Dorian's 5th and 6th ribs.
"I'll keep it for you, then," said Dorian. "You .... might want the papers, though."
He held them up so that Klaus could see them better. It took him a second or two to recognize the letterhead. Then he hastily grabbed them. "This looks to be--"
"I suspected that you might want me to prove myself, somehow. So I hoped you might be just a tiny, little bit impressed if I had brought proof already, kind of thing. Um ... It took a bit of doing, but I think the list is complete. That should be the names and addresses of all KGB moles currently working in Europe. As of this time the day before yesterday, anyway. But I created a bit of a ... diversion, so I don't think they know the list's gone yet. I stole Lenin. Then I got here as soon as I could."
Klaus stared at the list of names. The long list of names. This was the chance of a lifetime. They would have to work quickly!
He clutched the list in his fist, turned and started towards the exit. Before reaching the door, though, he stopped and looked back. Dorian stood exactly where he had left him, red heart glittering between his fingers as he held the piece of jewellry to his chest. His radiant smile had dimmed somewhat.
So, Klaus went back and kissed him. KGB could wait for five seconds. Or ten. Or possibly a minute or two.
THE END