With all my gratitude to Harp in the Willows and their great contribution to the Hellsing fandom, "Monsters of War." Both inspired me to turn two lines of dialogue I wrote 4 years ago into a full-fledged story. If you happen to enjoy any of this, then please search out that story and give them some love for me.
"Actually, this time I would like to make the trip myself."
The doctor increased the pressure of his fingers against the back of his commander's neck, eliciting a groan from the other man.
"Oh dear, that does feel so good. But this is quite unlike you to request field work."
"Indeed. I simply feel it would be most efficient to make the selection myself." He moved his hands to another pressure point.
"Well, I certainly can't argue with you in my present state," the Major sighed blissfully. "Very well. Enjoy your holiday, Herr Doktor. Just don't forget my personal request."
"Of course, my Major."
Copacabana Beach was only just starting to get lively, but the young couple had counted on it being that way. It was the third full day of their honeymoon to Rio de Janeiro, and this was the first morning since their arrival that had promised sunshine. Waking up extra early, they managed to get in some quality time chasing each other up and down the swirly patterns of the beach's promenade before the crowds started in earnest. Many were probably sleeping off hangovers from the previous night, but these two had kept their partying to a minimum in order to claim a prime spot on the golden sand.
"You look gorgeous, Sweetheart."
Roger had said it twice already that morning, but his wife was still feeling self-conscious in the frilly bikini she had received as a bridal shower gift. She tugged uncomfortably at the bright pink ties dangling from the sides and grimaced.
"You're sure you like this color on me?"
"It's perfect. Just like you."
"I put on too much sunscreen," Tamara grumbled. "Not feeling like much of a beach babe right now."
"Come here."
She sat down in front of him on the oversized striped towel and he rubbed the excess lotion into her back, neck, and arms while she glumly watched a couple of fit-looking females skip through the waves. Maybe she could have tried harder with those exercise programs on public television, she thought unhappily.
"Feeling sexier yet?" he asked, nuzzling into her neck.
"I'm getting there."
At least she had his full attention. Not once had Roger been distracted by the local color or disturbed by the fact that her figure was somewhat softer than that of other girls. She wondered if that kind of loyalty could last forever.
"Is this the best trip ever?"
"I guess, but I'm still disappointed it was so cloudy yesterday."
His mouth was by her ear now. "Mmm well, we can go see the Jesus statue again, if you want."
"Christ the Redeemer," she corrected, pulling away in slight irritation.
"Oh, sorry. I meant the 'Ginormous Jesus Christ Redeeming Mega Statue.'"
Now she was laughing, and the two of them fell to the ground to enjoy a long kiss. At last it felt as if the stress of the past several weeks was starting to melt away. Planning and executing a wedding while preparing for a week-long getaway had been fun, but had also taken a toll.
Nearby a group of local boys began kicking a soccer ball back and forth over a volleyball net. The couple had first heard of footvolley shortly after arriving in Brazil, and now they were getting a front row seat to the exotic game. Knocking the ball back and forth with their knees, chests, and even their heads, this was nothing like the soccer Tamara had seen Roger play back home. The athleticism and showmanship on display was mesmerizing, despite this just being an informal game among friends.
Roger and Tamara stopped long enough to applaud and cheer for part of the set, then turned their attention back to their petting.
"All right, best trip ever," she conceded.
The day remained cloudless and hot, and the couple decided to eat lunch on the patio of a festive café they had passed by the previous day. It was extra busy due to Carnival, but they managed to get the last available table outside after telling the host it was their honeymoon. Shaded by a bright blue umbrella, it would have been the perfect spot for people-watching if they hadn't been so focused on gazing into each other's eyes.
"Okay, your turn. Tell me what I'm thinking."
"Hmm," she said, leaning forward, trying to discern what his eyes and barely concealed smile were hiding. It was a game that Roger had just now invented to help pass the time while they waited for their food.
"Excuse me, you two make such a perfect couple."
Tamara startled at the interruption, so focused she was on Roger's face, but quickly recovered once she realized it was a compliment. She loved getting this sort of attention from strangers at the mall or grocery store.
"Thank you! We're on our honeymoon." They were so used to sharing this information, seeing as it had gotten them so many upgrades on this trip already that she didn't think twice about it.
"Congratulations! You are American? Sorry, my English is a little out of practice."
"Yes we are. Sprechen sie Deutsch, by any chance?"
Tamara shot Roger a warning look, as if to say, You had better not drag this out for too long.
"Ja, ja," the stranger admitted, looking almost embarrassed. He ran a gloved hand through his chin-length hair, which gleamed a pale blonde in the direct sunlight.
Roger perked up at the revelation, completely oblivious to Tamara's disapproval. He lived for moments like this when he might get to put his high school German studies to use. It was one of his passions; he'd done the foreign exchange program and everything.
After a few minutes of conversing with the older man, who introduced himself as Dale, Roger invited him to sit with them. The café was full, but there was room enough at their small table. He seemed extra pleased to get into the shade and stated that this was his favorite establishment to stop at whenever passing through on business.
"You sure picked a heck of a time to come to Rio," Roger said, gesturing vaguely to the crowds of people who had converged to participate in Brazil's biggest annual festival.
"So my boss tells me," Dale said. "But I spend most of my days in a lab, so an outing like this is…Tempowechsel. Change of pace."
"What kind of work do you do?" Tamara asked, trying to show at least a little interest.
"Oh, scientific research of all kinds: biology, medicine, genetics. I like to think of it as solving the problems of humanity."
"Do you mean like curing cancer?"
Dale chuckled. "Yes, just as you say."
At that moment their food arrived.
"You seem like a most wholesome couple," Dale said, noting their silent prayers before eating. "Going to have children someday? Oh sorry, that is rude to ask."
"No, it's fine!" Tamara exclaimed. "But yes, we'd like to. Eventually." She smiled genuinely and took Roger's hand in her own, who kissed it despite a large mouthful of food. She had made peace with the fact that this wouldn't be a romantic meal after all and had already figured out how Roger was going to make it up to her later.
"Delightful," Dale smiled back and took a small sip of the lemonade he had been nursing in his right hand.
Roger had the time of his life chatting with Dale, who kindly corrected his German for him. Tamara was content to observe their animated conversation while enjoying her colorful fruit salad. She always took much longer to warm up around strangers than he did.
Dale seemed somewhat odd to her, but seeing as how much Roger was enjoying his company, she thought maybe she was being too judgmental. He was smartly dressed in white and tan, but even though his clothes looked expensive and well-fitting, they seemed a tad incongruous on him. Maybe it was because of the gloves he wore. They were also strange, but she thought it would be terribly rude to ask about them, in case it was due to a disfiguring skin condition or other deformity. He never completely removed his sunglasses, although he did peer out from beneath them once at the menu.
Stop being suspicious, she thought, as the two men laughed at a joke about German engineering that she hadn't caught the tail end of. He was being a perfect gentleman and even made sure to include her in the conversation now and then.
"So when you're my age, don't make the same mistake. But you're only – what? – twenty-five, twenty-six…?"
"I'm twenty-three. You were close."
"Ahh. You seem like a very mature young lady. I do hope you both will be mature and careful tonight. Such large crowds, so many accidents happen. Do you have a safe place to stay?"
"We have a room at the Méridien and we'll take a taxi directly to the parade. We aren't going to drink tonight, so we'll be very careful," Roger ventured, perhaps a touch defensively.
"I am so glad to hear it. We have to be sure to keep the young lady safe, right?"
Roger nodded, squeezing Tamara's hand which he had been holding for the last half hour. She didn't want him to forget she was there, so enraptured he was with their new friend.
"Oh, one other thing. Ether, do you know what that is?"
The couple admitted their ignorance on the subject.
"It's a chemical, gives you a sort of, uh…high. They pass it around sometimes at these events. Please do not inhale if it is offered. Really can be very harmful."
He bent over to retrieve an item off the floor, then sat up with a small brown briefcase in his lap.
"Sorry, I do have a flight to catch." He tapped on the case for emphasis. "May I pay for your lunch though?"
Roger said no several times before eventually relenting at Dale's insistence.
"Thank you for a wonderful time. And again, congratulations."
Later at the hotel, Tamara threw off her damp t-shirt, which was actually one of Roger's, and flopped onto the bed. The sheets were nice and cool and she was almost content enough to lie there for the rest of the trip.
"We should try to get a nap in before tonight," she said, already calculating in her head how late they were going to be up.
Roger started to fake snore beside her.
"Hey, I have a serious question. Was I weird at lunch today?"
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Not that I noticed. Did you not like talking to Dale? I should have made sure it was okay with you before I invited him to sit with us."
"No, he was very interesting. I just felt funny, I don't know. Probably because you guys were speaking German and I missed some of the conversation."
"Oh Sweetie, I'm sorry if you felt left out!"
"You know that you owe me another romantic meal, right?"
"Alright, alright, I'll let you pick. But yeah, a nap sounds good. I'm exhausted!"
Five minutes later, Roger was snoring softly, actually asleep. Tamara continued to mull over their conversation with Dale for a while before she followed suit.
"Confirmed. Targets will be at the parade tonight, last section, middle tier. Male is skinny, about 185 centimeters, with a Star Wars tattoo on his right bicep. Yes, the film. Female is 160 centimeters, blonde with hair to mid-back. She carries a garish purple bag. Car will be ready at 2200 hours. I don't expect any issues with this pair but still use caution."
Dok waited to hear an affirmative, then put the transmitter down just as a small group of costumed women approached on the sidewalk running alongside the shaded bench he was resting on. Most likely dancers in tonight's performances, he raised an eyebrow at the scantily clad ladies. One of them noticed him staring, for she turned, sizing him up as they passed by. Something must have amused her about his posture and appearance, for she winked, then turned back to chatter with her friends. Unable to look away from the barely concealed mulata flesh draped with strands of beads, he sunk his teeth into his gloved index finger as they disappeared from view.
The costumes seemed infinitely more revealing than the last time he had been here during Carnival, but that must have been thirty years ago, at least.
Releasing his finger, he sighed to see that he had drawn blood already. The times may have changed, but he certainly had not. This was going to be an interesting evening indeed.