Flurries of action were things to which he was accustomed.

They were a trademark of his lifestyle, his beloved job.

This one was killing him. The Russian man with the club had landed a hard blow against the back of his skull, and it felt like his shoulders had been freed of his skull's weight -- the blow to his chest that came next took the wind from him.

No back up that was worth speaking of -- just that damned thief, and he was already a lost cause to the fight, scraped up in the corner like a beaten terrier for the moment. That bursting feeling of air-starved lungs hit him fast, and he sucked in quickly, trying to get something to work -- anything!

"Good night, Major Eberbach," the man taunted -- one of Mischa's nameless thugs, winning? Over him...?

*Never*.

Shoulder holster and side-arm, one in each hand, barely taking aim at all before he fired at the man, a rapid succession of shots that would more than stop him. Then, bullets spent, he let his guns fall, and crumpled face first onto the stone floor on which he'd been kneeling. The thief had to find the chip on the man's body, and fast, before more came...

It seemed impossible -- the man had damned near killed Eroica, from the looks of it, and if Klaus hadn't known that he was stronger than he looked, he would have been surprised to see that battered body struggling to come to, to move. He knew, though, and the beautiful blond man who crawled across the floor had his mission firmly in mind.

/Get the chip. Get Klaus. Get out until the Alphabets can find us, or Bonham, or anyone.../

It was hard, and he knew that the others had to have heard the Major's shots. Still, he forced his body to work, rummaging through the man's jacket even as he bled and shook, fingers carefully gripping the microchip and then slipping it into a tiny concealed patch at the back of his neck, beneath all of those glorious golden curls.

"Now for you, darling," Eroica said as loudly as he could dare, shifting to try and help the Major move.

"Get out... I... can't... chip... get out..." He was trying to move, but the stabbing seer of pain on his left side and an inability to catch his breath yet was crippling him. Eroica could get out faster without him; he would only hinder escape. Finally, Klaus got up on knees and one hand, the other clutching at his left side to find out what was wrong -- had he been shot, and not noticed? Broken rib? Punctured lung? "Run."

"Not without you!" The words were whispered, but firmly meant, and he was being shifted whether he could breathe or not. "Can't... unh... run anyway, darling..." And that was true; Dorian was black and blue all over, and a scalp wound was beginning to soak down the curls on the left side of his head, to top it all off. "Out the window with us, Klaus-love," he said shakily, the world greying out faintly. "Your dear boys will be here soon, and you can yell at me later."

"No Alphabets... they're not here... not coming... knew that--" His already choked words cut into a strangled noise of agony as Eroica pulled him to his feet, an arm around his chest. The thief's fingers clutching at his left side were too much pressure! He'd been shot before with less pain than this. "Your... men?" he asked, a desperate hope seeping into his voice -- to hear that, from Iron Klaus, was faith-shaking.

"Yes, darling," Dorian promised softly, dragging him to the window. "Out on the ledge now, to sit, just to sit." If he could only stay standing long enough to get Klaus out onto the ledge... "Bonham... will... come..."

Even though they were nearly the same height, Klaus was heavier than him, and with Klaus barely trying to move towards the ledge it was a nearly impossible feat. "Can't... sit..." The world was going to fade out into a wash of dizzying nothing first, of panic. His breath had sometimes eluded him in recent months, but never with such pain! "Can't... breath...!"

"Damn you!" Eroica whispered. "If you die on me, I shall *never* forgive you, so *breathe*, and I'll get you out there and hold you up!" Well, he would, until he himself fell. He would! And they were so close, so *close*, Klaus almost out the window...

It was a low stone ledge, thankfully, and Klaus got onto it, seated, moments before Dorian slid the window closed behind them. "Can't..." He was still moving, but starting to look deathly pale beneath the flowering bruises. His determination wasn't fading though, and it gave him a nasty stumble from the ledge to the grassy ground beneath that only made the stabbing pain worse.

Blessed thing that they'd been on the first floor.

It still gave Eroica a nasty turn, for he almost couldn't force his body down beside him, even though he could hear them coming. "Darling! Oh, Klaus..." Ah, but the chip was important, wasn't it? /Please, God, I know you don't like gay men at all, but *please* let all that racket be Bonham coming to the rescue!/

Klaus started to get to his feet again, tried to rise with a sharp lurch of movement that made breathing harder than before, and started a racking cough when he needed it least. "Run..." A final urging, as the Iron Major found he couldn't get moving again. Too much pain, and not enough air...

"M'Lord!"

"Bonham! Blessed timing, man! The Major..." Eroica began.

"Christ!" the little man exclaimed, flagging for Jones. Then Dorian felt a supportive arm, deceptively strong, hauling him up. "Peters has the car on the other side. If we hide the Major in the back, cover him with a blanket or something, we can pass the border..."

"Do it," the thief whispered, eyes fluttering shut. "Just... get us out, Bonham... get..."

Knowing they'd be safe at last, Dorian let himself slip into unconsciousness. There wasn't anything else he could do.

~~~~~

"M'lord...?" That was Bonham's voice, calling to him from the front passenger seat of the inconspicuous black car. "Where should we head -- to an estate, or hospital?"

"Hospital," he said, voice rough and hoarse with pain. "The Major..." His fingers were almost subconsciously buried in dark strands of hair, petting even when every bone in his body felt as if it was broken! Ah, his darling repressed man... if anything were to happen to him... but it seemed such an impossibility.

"He coughed up blood while you were sleeping, Lord Gloria," Jones told him, looking over into the back. They'd bandaged Dorian's head wound and plopped a hat atop it to get them over the border, just as they'd wrapped Klaus up in a blanket and hoped it wouldn't smother him in those tense moments of crossing. "We gave him some bottled water, and then he went back to sleep."

Dorian paled beneath his bruises. "Oh, God..." A hand went to Klaus's chest as if somehow it could work magic. "How close are we, to a hospital?"

"We don't know -- we just crossed the border into West Germany. We might be better driving on to the NATO office and then letting them take him from here," Peters said.

"Just hurry," the British lord said softly, fingers tenderly pleating in that hair, his own aches and pains rising impossibly just then. "Hurry..."

A ragged cough left Klaus just then, moaned and struggled out as the man started to instinctively sit up.

"It'll be another two hours at least, m'lord," Bonham told him carefully.

"Call them," Dorian said, voice firm, solid. "Tell them the route we're taking and tell them to *send someone*, and to do it *now*."

"Will do, sir." Jones, passing the wireless to Bonham. A few short moments of clipped speaking followed.

"M'lord, they're sending A, B, C, Z and a medical person."

"Good," Dorian murmured, eyes closing again. "Bonham? I think I'm going to pass out again. Shake me when they find us..."

~~~~~

"Lord Gloria...?" A softer yet strangely more firm voice prodded him awake. He could feel a cold breeze passing through the car, and the warmth on his lap was being moved.

"Nnn..." It was barely a sound, and he was so stiff that he wasn't sure he would be able to even open his eyes. A sharp pain in his back told him it was a bad idea to move yet. "Hm?"

"We're going to take you to hospital, Lord Gloria -- can you tell us what happened?" Agent Z pressed softly, kneeling down beside the stopped car while Klaus was extracted first.

"Mischa..." It was about the only word he could get out, but he forced his lips onward. "Mischa, sent a man, beat...both of us... not so bad as the Major, Z..."

He could hear Klaus give a lurching groan, then a strangled cry of pain, before he was taken entirely out of the car. "Thank you, Lord Gloria -- thank you. Do they still have the microchip?"

Dorian tried to bring his arm up, but it didn't want to function. "Hair," he managed to get out. "Underneath... Z, 's he all... right? Tell me..."

"We don't know. He looks..." No, there was no reason to go on and possibly upset the Earl. A gentle hand was laid on his chest, another on his back to tip him forward. It moved up to search carefully through curls of blond hair. The chip was found in its little patch of false skin, and tugged free just as gently. "You're next to be put on a stretcher, Lord Gloria. Here it is..."

"Want to go with..."

"You're both going to the NATO facility, Lord Gloria." With that, Z's gentle touch helped pull him to his feet, and laid him out, with the help of the medic, onto the second stretcher.

Even that wasn't enough for Dorian. He wanted to be *with* Klaus, to hold his hand, to touch his face again, to kiss him and do all of the things Klaus had never let him do! Grumpy darling... "...yes..."

He was jolted at first, into the second ambulance, and agent A got in with him. "You'll be all right, Earl. Really."

"Tell him..." Dorian moaned as someone jabbed him sharply. "Not... to die... without... me."

~~~~

When the Earl of Gloria next awoke, it was in a clean hospital room with two beds, and only his was in use. There was a little huddle of chairs in the room, bearing Bonham, A and Z.

"Hullo," he said, voice slow and hoarse and only slightly slurred. "You're all hovering."

"We can't do much else, Lord Gloria," Z spoke up.

"The Major will be moved here when they've finished with him. It's..."

"Grave," Z cut into A's words. Something in his quickness said that he'd chosen a kind word for the situation at hand.

"How are you, m'lord?"

"I feel like I've been beaten with a brick bat, Bonham," Dorian murmured grimly. "How grave?"

"He's punctured a lung, and it collapsed. They opened his chest to repair, but there's more wrong than that," A said in a concerned rush.

A deep, deadening sense of dread filled the pit of Dorian's belly, somehow even worse than watching his adored and aggravating Major struggle for the breaths he took. "More?" he whispered, numbness overtaking him.

"More," Z affirmed. "We don't know how long they'll be in there. They've got his chest open now, so they're trying to do as much as possible while they're in..."

"Tell me something *specific*!" Dorian said, shaking his head. That was stupid, he realized, as dizziness overtook him. "Tell me what's wrong!"

"He, er..." A made a gesture, two fingers slightly parted, to his lips and back away, as if smoking; Klaus had often made it when he wanted a cigarette and didn't have a pack on him, a signal for one of his agents to give him one.

"They're not sure, yet, though. It's damage control for now," Z cut in. "They haven't run tests yet."

Cancer, then. They didn't have to say it -- no, they didn't have to say it at all, Dorian *knew* and had feared it for years. He'd wished that Klaus would stop smoking the damned things one after another after another; but then, there were a lot of things he'd wished that Klaus would do. His own smoking was inconsistent and more for effect, at least. "When?"

When would they know? When would decisions need to be made?

When would Dorian hear the words that could quite possibly end all pathetic hope for happiness in his life?

"After he's better. They're cutting out a... suspicious piece of lobe now. It's on the lung that collapsed. That will have to be tested..." A looked miserable as he said those words, spoke them without trying to think of their meaning.

"Of course." That agreement was flat, without the typical liveliness of the Earl of Gloria. "And what have they said about me?" He wanted to be well because he *was* going to nurse Klaus whether he wanted it or not!

"Mild concussion -- blood-loss and a lot of deep bruising, m'lord," Bonham told him. "You can leave tomorrow afternoon, if they clear your head as all right."

"Find somewhere to stay nearby," Dorian murmured, closing his eyes, though he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep. "I don't want to go far. Z, did you find the chip? I'm sorry I couldn't have told you better..."

"Right at the base of your neck -- you've both saved thousands of lives by keeping those codes from the Russians," Z told him softly.

"But it can't save HIM," Dorian said sadly, "can it?"

"L-look at it this way, Lord Gloria. If... Mischa's man hadn't hurt both of you, it might... never have been found, until much too late." Though A and the rest of the Alphabets had been worrying in recent months. The Major had been thinning a little and coughing, always claiming he had a slight cold, or allergies, or that the cleaning staff wasn't dusting well enough.

"We'll have to be cheerful for him," Dorian decided softly. "We can do that. I'll drive him crazy, just like always..." But shouldn't a man be allowed to have peace when he was d... ill?

"I think he'd be bothered more if things change. Depending on how bad it is, he'll be taken off duty, and..." Z shrugged sadly into silence.

"And he won't want things to change," the thief whispered, holding back tears. "I... I think I want to rest now..."

"Of course, m'lord," Bonham comforted quietly. "We'll be here if you need anything." There, and deathly quiet, each in their own private musings.

Despairing, Dorian closed his eyes, and vainly sought for sleep to come and steal him away from the nightmare that had suddenly been made of his reality.

It came creepingly, and then faded many hours later, to a babble of voices and noise. "Hmmm?" he murmured, eyes fluttering open. The room was at least partially dark, but the voices were coming clearer as he came more and more awake.

"Constant..."

"Twice a day...?"

"... and every hour, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"... keep an eye for fluid on the cavity, and air. Keep the oxygen in, and let him rest while talking, once the tube is out and he's up to that."

"Darling?" It was a bare murmur, Dorian's eyes fluttering open. "Major? Klaus?"

"Someone move him out of here -- we can't debrief the major with anyone--"

"He was part of the mission! There's no reason to move him, you--"

"G, calm down."

Frowning, Dorian attempted to sit up and automatically regretted it, groaning. "Ohhh, why bother Klaus? He can't talk around that thing. I can tell you what happened..."

B moved anxious over to Dorian's bed, recorder in hand. "Then start?" Behind the agent, Dorian could make out Z speaking softly, hurriedly to Klaus in German.

"We came into the building through the ventilation, the way we had planned," he began, speaking softly. "It wasn't too difficult -- I was worried because they didn't have as many guards as I had thought they would..."

Forty-five minutes later, they were wrapping up. "...and he just wouldn't stop hitting until the Major had shot him repeatedly, and we crawled out the window," Dorian said tiredly. "Bonham found us there."

"Thank you, Eroica," B said, clicking off the tape, and nodded to the excess Alphabets in the room -- they left, with all but one doctor. He remained to shine a light in Klaus's eyes and get moaned at softly, the only sound capable of escaping around the ventilation tube.

"Darling, *do* try not to injure the doctors, they *are* concerned for your welfare, truly," Dorian said with his typical flair, getting another sound for the effort.

When the doctor left, Z was the first to approach the bed that Klaus was in, looking terribly worried as he gazed at his superior officer. He was deathly pale, with that blue-tint still lingering to his skin. The hospital gown he was in had a little blood on it, seeped through where they'd stitched his chest back up through the layers of flesh and muscle. His face had bruising, and the oxygen tube didn't help make him look any better.

"Sir...?"

"Nnn," Klaus grunted, with a staggering slowness and deliberateness to it.

"Don't make any noise," Dorian pleaded over the side of the bed. "Don't try, darling..."

"Just rest, sir," A urged, same tone as Dorian was using. "We... have you been told what..."

"Nn." Klaus fixed the agent with tired eyes, not wanting him to go on -- there was no point to being told vital information when he was just going to forget it in the haze of drugs they had him on.

"It doesn't matter," the thief said, knowing what Klaus meant. "Just rest. It can all be told later."

"Nn." Less intense now, and Klaus closed his blood-shot looking eyes, leaving Dorian.

"Oh, darling, you must get better," he pleaded so softly as to go unheard. "You must. I'd die if you didn't!"

"Don't say such things, m'lord!" Bonham exclaimed.

"The Major could never... not get better," A assured.

Dorian shook his head, trying to reassure them. "No, no, I wouldn't, it's all right. Just... feeling the effects, I suppose. What did they say? I was asleep..."

"Say about what...?" Z asked.

"About..." His voice trailed off, blue eyes going to the still figure in the other bed.

"Non-small cell."

"Tell it in small words, for the idiot," Dorian said. "The implications, what we're to do, what we're waiting on..." /How stupid I even am for thinking there is a 'we'... if we let him, he'll go die alone in some hospital and the world will be deprived of a wonderful man.../

"It's not the worst type. It's still operable. They need him to heal from this, and then we'll know from there." Z leaned forward a little in his chair, looking at the major.

"Thank God!" Dorian whispered softly, falling back into his pillows. "Oh..."

"Half of his left lung is gone; it isn't functioning at full capacity. They said it may never function again," Z went on softly.

"So long as he lives," the thief said quietly, "and so long as he can be Klaus again..."

"If he can pass a physical with that..." A wanted to say it would be a miracle, but didn't.

The expression on Dorian's face said that he would, whether he actually did or not. "We'll just have to wait and see," he said finally.

"Looks like we've got a lot of that to do," Bonham noted sagely.

A loose sigh filtered from the thief as he turned on his side, half-closed eyes watching Klaus across the way. /I'll do anything to make you better. I'll move mountains, if I have to. Please, don't die on me, not now!/

~~~~~~

"Thank you for driving me, Z," Klaus murmured to his right hand man as Z carried his other suitcase into the front hall. "I can manage well on my own now, thank you."

"Er... well, sir, you see, that's the thing of it," Z began.

"Thing of it?" Klaus looked up sharply, pinning Z with a stern glare.

"Er... Well, sir, you see," Z commenced once more.

"DARLING!! You're home from that terrible place!" came the cry from the doorway, unmistakably and without a doubt the sound of Dorian Red Gloria, one who was as usual fantastically and horribly dressed in the opinion of one German NATO officer. Feet bare, legs covered in something most remarkably resembling footless blue tights, Dorian was clad in an off-the-shoulder tunic of some sort in a blue that matched his eyes with deep golden Celtic runes around the hem. "I thought you would NEVER get here!"

Klaus didn't even spare a moment before bursting into a bellow -- loud, angry and completely belying his damaged lung. "What the HELL is he doing here?!"

"I've come to take *care* of you, darling!" Dorian declared, expression slightly injured. "Don't you love me anymore?"

"Oh, fucking God -- get that bag, Z, and go back to the car. We're leaving."

"And after I've worked *so* hard!" came the next declaration, hurt only partially feigned. "Really, Major, do you hate me that badly?" He was aware of the answer that was coming, so why did it hurt so much that he knew?

"Yes!" Klaus only stormed past him, though -- deciding in a split second to not leave, but to stay. It was *his* house, after all!

"Well, it doesn't matter!" the thief told him quickly, following him in a flurry of hair and motion. "I'm still going to stay right here and pamper you madly! So you had better just get used to it, or else!"

"Or else what?" Klaus rotated, pivoting towards the thief.

That brought Dorian almost against him, blue eyes narrowing. "Or else I'll have *James* move in, too!"

"I don't need your idea of pampering!"

"Well you're going to get it anyway!" Dorian drawled, fluffing strands of lovely blond hair lightly.

"Why?" Klaus brought it out now, still not giving up an inch more of space to the thief. "This is my land, and I could have you hauled off by the police at any moment..."

"Call them, and I'll come right back. WITH James," Eroica promised -- and this was DEFINITELY Eroica, a glittering, beautiful man capable of carrying out that threat entirely.

"Fuck." It was his favorite English word, Dorian was sure, since he used it as an expletive so often. Klaus's right hand was just itching to go to his shoulder holster and draw it. "How am I supposed to 'rest' with this lunacy going on?!"

"Uh, sir, you're currently half the lunacy..." Z piped up, knowing he was risking life and limb in saying it. "Lord Gloria wants to make sure--."

"'Lord' Gloria wants to harass me until I give in to his perverted ways!" Klaus bit out, before he stormed off down the hall and out of sight.

"Well," Dorian decided, "he took that better than I thought he would..."

"Lord Gloria... He..." Z hesitated, looking around to see if Klaus was lingering and ready to explode nearby. "He really doesn't hate you. We all know it, at the office."

Dorian smiled at Z sweetly. Such a nice boy! He was glad that Klaus had him. "I know," he said solemnly, a bit sadly. "Still. There are appearances to keep up for his own sake, so we'll let him have them, hm?"

"Yes." Z gave a slight smile, for a moment. "I'll be leaving now, unless you can think of something I can do. Did the delivery men drop off the oxygen tank, just... in case?" If they had, he hoped to God that it hadn't been put in Klaus's bedroom. The Major would throw a fit if he saw it...

"I've got it tucked away under some of the... er...decorations that were added to the Major's room," Dorian said, waiting to hear the other man yell. "Hopefully, *those* will make him angry enough that he won't notice *that*."

"Oh..." Z felt a migraine coming on. "Then I'm leaving now..."

"EROICA!!!!!!"

The roar came down, loud and clear, from the third floor of the building.

"Goodbye, Z," Dorian told him cheerfully. "I'll take care of it! Really!"

"Good bye, Lord Gloria..." Z left quickly, getting into his efficient little car and speeding off without any hesitation.

That left Dorian alone in a house with Klaus. "Might as well be a man about it," he decided, heading up the stairs and along the upper hallway towards Klaus's bedroom. "Darling, I can explain, really!" he called.

"There is a nude man on my wall, and I want it gone *NOW*," Klaus bellowed, a hand over his eyes when Dorian walked in. "Along with the drapery!"

"But, darling, it's a *tasteful* nude man. It's *Raphael*," Dorian said. "The drapery is only to accent it. Truly!"

"Get it *out*!!!" Klaus's voice broke into silence for a moment, then a cough, and Klaus pivoted away completely, hand going from his eyes to his mouth as he coughed.

"Darling, lay down. I promise, I'll take it away, I'll bring you something better. Water nymphs, or perhaps something else, just... please..."

"I don't want any paintings, or anything..." The coughing made his chest ache -- up through his healing stitches, and the tang of blood in his mouth was unpleasant as he did move to sit down in a chair.

Dorian was already moving to find a coverlet for him, expression determined. "Klaus. You *must* rest. Please."

A frustrated growl left the man as he rested his chin in one palm, still trying to quell the cough. "I've been resting for two blasted weeks!"

"Please." The word was said again, softly, pleadingly. "If... if you'll just rest, I'll go away," he promised, though it hurt him to do so. "If you'll just..."

"I'm *resting*, dammit," he growled unhappily, gesturing to the chair and lifting his gaze to glare at the thief. "See? I'm *resting*. I don't see why you're hysterical."

As if offended by that word, Dorian sniffed and stood. "Because, darling, I love you madly, and I fret over you. Isn't that enough of a reason? Or do I require a special one other than that?"

"I don't need your hysterics, Eroica," Klaus snorted, closing his eyes again. "And I won't 'rest' all of the time, either -- there is no way I can get better if I laze around all day."

Hysterics, he called it! The fact that he loved Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was *not* histrionics -- it was idiocy, actually, and Dorian Red Gloria *knew* it. "You can't get better if you don't rest properly, either!"

"It's hard to rest when there's a nude man on your wall startling you," Klaus growled, changing the subject again.

"I'll get rid of the nude man," Dorian promised. "Perhaps a landscape, instead."

"Fine, fine," Klaus sighed, shaking his head. "When you come back, I'll be in the gun room. I'm telling you so you won't go hysterical that I've dared to move."

Rolling his eyes, the blond earl sighed. "Of course, darling, but don't overdo it, all right? They *did* crack your chest open, you know. Most people take absolute weeks for recovery. You're so stubborn!"

"I want to keep myself busy polishing guns -- and when I am even better, I will exercise," Klaus declared, getting up from the chair in a smooth motion, careful with his balance. "And you will not stop me."

"Just don't do too much!" Dorian said in exasperation. "I'll be right back with something else, and when I get back, you MUST go to bed, all right?"

"It's the middle of the afternoon!"

"Yes, and you just got out of the hospital!" One bare foot stomped down firmly. "You WILL rest when I get back! Promise me!"

"Only if you manage to pry my gun out of my fingers," Klaus bit out, before he left the room ahead of Dorian.

The Earl sighed. "So long as you don't try to shoot me, darling."

Luckily, Klaus was out of ear-shot.

It wasn't hard, really, to replace the picture -- he just put it back up in storage where it had been in the large attic space. He brought down one that was a bit more tasteful instead -- a battle scene -- but he kept the drapery. When that was all done, he headed down into the weaponry rooms, to the gun room, where Klaus was humming to himself and shining a sharp-looking revolver.

"I'm back!" the blond declared with a smile. "Did you miss me, my love?"

"You're a pest," Klaus sighed, not looking up from his guns. He suppressed a cough carefully, and then picked up the second buffing cloth.

"Yes, and you love me," Dorian sighed, as if he thought that romantic, lightly tossing a few curls back over his shoulder. "Tell me it's true!"

"I'm going to beat you into a wall, if that's what it will take to get silence here," Klaus growled, setting aside his immaculately kept gun. He wished for a moment that he hadn't lost those two on the mission.

Sniffing, Dorian shook his head. "It's time for you to come rest now. I replaced the painting with something more warlike so that it would better suit you, all right?"

"Eroica, I do not *want* to rest," Klaus growled. "I'm fine. I'm not an invalid."

"Tell you what," Dorian said. "If you'll rest, I'll do something for you that you want. Any one thing, so long as it's not going away entirely. All right?"

"I can't think of anything else I want you to do, Eroica," Klaus said solemnly, looking up at the thief. "Why *are* you being such a pest?"

For a moment, glimmering aquamarine eyes darkened, turning a deep, almost hurt midnight before flashing back to normal. "Because," the other man replied, arms wrapping around himself slowly, "I just *adore* annoying you, darling."

A quiet moment of silence, and then, "If I died, you'd probably follow me and pester me there, too."

"Right behind you every step of the way," came the cheerful promise.

"Fuck." Klaus set the gun down, and stood up, to look Dorian right in the eyes. "Why don't you understand what I'm telling you?"

A shrug answered that, slow and deliberate, though those arms were still crossed over broad chest, a smile pasting itself slowly on Eroica's features. "Because I adore hearing you tell me how much you hate me, my love. What better reason could I have? After all, you say it so often, and so vehemently... it certainly couldn't be that I wish that one day, you'd say something *else*, after all."

"Dammit, I want you to leave me *alone* -- You're such a... a fucking pervert! I can't stand that!" Klaus wanted to grab him by the collar, shake him *anything*, but didn't -- instead, he just loomed threateningly, moving closer.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I just can't do that." For a moment, that dark expression was back in the eyes of his golden Brit, and then it was gone again, flashed away behind the mask of that smile. "I'll leave you alone for a little while if you'll promise to lay down and rest. I won't even bother you 'til tea time."

"Fine." It *wasn't* fine, though, but there was nothing to do for it. He detoured for a moment, long enough to grab a book, and headed towards the stairs, half aware of Dorian looming behind him.

"Just making sure that you're actually going to lay down, love," came the lightly spoken murmur. "Once you're comfortable, I'll wander off. I promise."

"I'm sure you will," Klaus said over his shoulder, looking back at the thief with an angry glint in his military green eyes. Just long enough distracted to misstep, having slowed to shoot that look. His left hand caught quickly on the handrail, book dropped, his the already pained arm and shoulder taking the jolt of his weight; it drew a strangled *noise* from him.

His own gasp was overlaid by Dorian's, the other man by his side and catching him almost before he was sprawled on the steps. "Ah, God, you've hurt yourself! Let me look, let me...!" His hands were shaking so much it was a wonder he could get Klaus over, working at buttons to see if he'd torn open anything. The earl's face was pale even as he tried to remain determined and quick for Klaus' sake.

"Oh, fuck," Klaus hissed as Dorian's hand skimmed over his skin, checking his stitches -- they were all fine. The fall had just jerked taut already tight muscles that surrounded Klaus's ribs and chest, or at least it seemed so.

"You aren't bleeding any worse, just the seepage," Dorian said, and his voice trembled. "I think perhaps we should call a doctor to be sure, and perhaps we should move your bedroom to the ground floor, Klaus, please..."

Klaus didn't move yet, just laid there, sprawled on the steps and concentrating on breathing as he heard his butler rushing towards them.

"What happened?!" the man demanded in a near hysterical tone of voice.

"He fell," Dorian said, shaking his head. "I think you should call a doctor now, please, and set someone to bringing a bed into one of the downstairs rooms, the parlor, perhaps. It's good and warm and easily accessible to the kitchen and a bathroom is nearby..."

"I'm not an invalid, dammit," Klaus snarled softly, trying to move a little more onto his right side to relieve the pain. "Oh, God..."

"I'll make the call right away," his butler said in a hurry before disappearing.

"Of course not," came the solemn reassurance as Dorian gently began to button his shirt back up. "Of course not, darling, only do indulge me, hm? I'll think of something marvelous to make it up to you, all right? I'll peel grapes for you or something, really. I'll even let Z come and give you reports if you like, anything...."

He didn't really get an answer -- just a soft groan, and less than soft cursing from Klaus, just under his breath. "Just... help me... up..."

"Come on, darling. You can lay on the couch in the parlor..."

He didn't get to his feet so much as he was slid upright, breathing suddenly painful in ways it hadn't been for at least a handful of days. "Stretched everything out..."

"I'll help you," Dorian whispered, supporting him as they moved carefully back downstairs. "I've got oxygen for you. Don't protest, darling, please, just take it, all right? I'll go get it..."

No protesting, as Klaus gave a stiff, unhappy nod, being escorted into the parlor and then set down on the couch. "Fine, yes..." Anything to get the thief to stop fretting over him!

"I'll be right back," came the promise, Dorian settling him into the couch and piling its pillows around him. "Only a moment. I'll hurry!" he declared, and then he was gone. It seemed only seconds before he was back again, tank and mask in hand and placed lightly over Klaus's nose and mouth. Green eyes were already tightly closed. "Breathe deeply, darling."

"Mm." He obeyed, following an order from Dorian for the first time in his life -- it was, he'd later admit to himself, a good idea. Otherwise, he would have struggled to breath for at least another hour, growing more and more drained with each breath.

Seeing him laying in a hospital bed had been bad enough, but seeing him on the floor, injured and having difficulty breathing, was worse. Dorian could have wept if he didn't know that Klaus would call that one more reason not to like him. "There, there," he soothed. "There, darling. It's all right. It will be all right."

Klaus cracked open his eyes to fix Dorian with a look that said 'I know it'll be all right', before closing them again, making a noncommittal sound. He didn't *seem* too worried... Seem being the word, until he started to cough, trying to get the mask off so he wasn't coughing against it.

It lifted away, Dorian's fingers with it, but the man's hand was also on him, beneath him, rubbing his back comfortingly. /God, please, how long can it take for a doctor to arrive!/ It was a horror to feel strong muscles tense and spasm with the force of that cough, Klaus finally stilling it with effort, hand coming away with a little blood that was wiped on the dark brown upholstery to blend it away.

"Oh, God, what's taking them so long!?" Dorian whispered to himself frantically. "Lay back, Klaus, please...

"I'm laying back," Klaus sighed, trying to glare at the man and failing miserably. "I need to rinse my mouth out..."

"Sir...?" The butler again, this time with another man behind him. "I've found the town's doctor."

"Oh, thank God! Please," Dorian said, stepping around the edge of the couch to make way for the other man. "He fell, and he's just had surgery on his lungs, one had collapsed and..." And they hadn't told Klaus about the cancer yet; no, they hadn't!

"A fall...?" The doctor looked quizzical, as if wondering what the concern was. "What sort of surgery, Herr Eberbach...?"

Klaus began to answer, and then didn't. "I can't quite say." It hadn't seemed a necessary thing for him to know -- only that he was getting better, and shouldn't smoke anymore...

"One collapsed," Dorian said again, shaking his head negatively at the doctor, eyes shadowed.

Unfortunately, that didn't reach the butler, who knew just as much as Dorian did. "And they took out a part -- it was cancerous. They had to open his chest..."

"WHAT?!" Klaus's sudden bellow brought him to aching coughing again, eyes *wide*. Did *NO ONE* think him worth telling such things?!

"How long ago?" the doctor pressed. "Should he even be out of hospital yet...?"

"Two weeks," Dorian said reluctantly. "They said it was all right to come home until the test results were in. He..." Lip bitten, he changed that. "You wanted to come home, didn't you, Klaus?"

He had until he'd found out that Dorian would be invading his house, and that worse had been done to him than he'd thought! Klaus only gave a nod, almost angry in it's intensity as he kept coughing.

"Doesn't sound very good."

"Call the hospital," Dorian told the butler sharply. "Call Z!" Yes, Z would know just what to do, not that Dorian didn't, but Klaus would accept it from his Alphabet!!

What had started out as a day that was simply shitty had quickly gone downhill, Klaus thought to himself. It didn't look as if it was going to get much better anytime soon!

~~~~~~

"Why wasn't I told?" Klaus asked Dorian in a rough tone of voice. A bed had been moved down into the parlor in his second absence, and he was in it, looking thoroughly tired and miserable. He'd pulled a stitch after all, and they'd prescribed him diuretics to drain the fluid, however small, that was gathering around his lungs again.

"Because, darling," Dorian said softly. He was actually exhausted, for he'd not slept well in nearly three days between Klaus being hospitalized, his own injured state, and making sure everything at the Eberbach home was perfectly in place for his Iron Major. "I didn't want you to worry until there was more need, and everyone agreed with me."

"So, no one thought I should know that a part of my lung was gone, or that there was a real reason for me to no longer smoke," Klaus said -- it wasn't a question. It was definitely a statement. "*Why*?"

"Because I didn't want to tell you until I knew how bad it was going to be," Dorian whispered.

Silence fell again, Klaus laying there with eyes flickering between closed and open, as if undecided on the issue of sleep. The results had come back in while he'd been in the hospital again, and it *was* cancer. It was the type that spread the slowest, it seemed, for lungs, and they suspected they'd cut it all out, but they wanted to keep a close eye on him in case it came back. "I'm going back on duty as soon as my chest has healed."

"Of course!" That was said as if there had never been any thought that he might do otherwise. /Anything you want, darling, just don't die on me without telling me that you love me, at least a little bit. I'd even settle for the hatred remaining, if only you'd be well.../

"I won't smoke anymore, and that... won't trouble me again," he went on, firmly, as if telling his body it wouldn't disobey him. Then another sigh, "I should have been told."

A sigh sounded, the blond thief shaking his head slowly. "I didn't want to worry you, Klaus. None of us did, but it was I who forced the others to it. If you're going to be angry, take it out on me."

"If my butler hadn't have let it slip, would I have been told...?"

"Of course!" That answer, again, as if there was no other. "You can't possibly think I'd keep it from you forever! Only, I was worried and I didn't want..." Words trailed off into nothing. "I didn't want *you* to worry."

"In the past few months I've been very slowly losing weight, and having trouble with a cough. I had no idea..."

Fingers lightly reached up, touched his before moving away, as if afraid to stay for very long. "The occasional check-up really won't kill you, darling. It might even save your life, you know."

"Apparently. But I'd just had a physical..." And those were supposed to be enough! Death wasn't a thing that scared Klaus -- but a slow, lingering death off of the field...? Yes. It frightened him terribly.

Those fingers touched his again, emboldened by the lack of rejection. "From now on, make sure it's a very thorough one, darling. Make sure they know about this. Please? Promise me. I..."

"You're scared, aren't you?" Klaus asked after a moment's thought. "Aren't you?"

"Yes." There was no shame in admitting that, was there? "Pervert or no, I *do* love you, no matter what you think. I... I couldn't bear it, if..." But no, he couldn't say it, couldn't even bear to *think* it!

"Why love me? I'm not interested in men," Klaus snorted. "You're wasting your time..."

The answer to the question came in the form of more questions. "Why love beautiful art? Why love anything?" The depth of sorrow apparent in Eroica's eyes was impossible to deny. "You may always hate me, but I... I can't *not* love you. Even when you hurt me, even when you humiliate me, even when you break my heart. I only do."

For a flicker of a second, Klaus frowned at him. "When have I humiliated you?"

"You think it doesn't hurt when you tell me how much you hate me? Call me a pervert, yell at me, even in front of your Alphabet? It does," Dorian told him, "and if it were anyone else but you, I'd have long ago done something awful to humiliate you back and left you to suffer the lack of my glorious presence, only... only you *wouldn't* suffer. *I* would. It's hopeless."

Klaus fell silent for so long it seemed he'd fallen asleep -- it would have been a fitting response to the outpouring of Dorian's heart -- but he spoke when Dorian moved to leave. "Eroica. Come here."

Silently, the Englishman turned, moving back to the bed and standing silently by the edge of it. "Yes, darling?" Anything Klaus wanted, Dorian would do, and he knew it even better than his dear Major did.

Slow, one hand moved sightlessly to rest on Dorian's arm, a firm grasp of the thief's forearm. "I... don't hate you, Eroica. I don't know what to do with you."

There was no helping the burst of intense hope that spilled over inside of him, accompanied by the slightest of smiles. "Only never truly mean to make me go away, please. I think I would die if you sent me away and meant it," he whispered.

Klaus's hand lingered for a moment, and then he gave a little cough, letting it drop away. "Good night, Dorian."

"Good night, my love. I'll be back to annoy you in the morning," the beautiful blond promised with a smile.

Klaus didn't relax again until Dorian had left -- and even then, it wasn't real.

Cancer. It killed and it would certainly cripple his career, what was left of his chances of moving up the ranks. Then there was Dorian... just another fucking cog that his wheel didn't need to be dealing with at the moment.

Still, Dorian was there, and he wouldn't go away, no matter how much Klaus wished that he would. That was the thing about the Earl of Gloria -- he was disgustingly, horribly, eternally persistent, no matter what anyone else might have liked. If Klaus told him to go away, he'd likely ignore him. Of course, if he told him and *meant* it, with what Dorian had just said in mind...

But could he bring himself to mean it?

~~~~~~

"Good morning, darling!" Dorian said cheerfully, breezing into Klaus's sick room. His clothes of the morning were not quite as trashy as they usually were -- a pair of pants so tight they surely cut off circulation and a white shirt with flowing sleeves reminiscent of a pirate's accompanied by a red sash tied about his waist. His feet, once again, were conspicuously bare, and he held balanced upon his right forearm a tray with two plates full of eggs, toast, what smelled suspiciously like bacon, a carafe of what was undoubtedly coffee, and a teapot. "Time to rise and shine!"

"'s too loud," Klaus grumbled. He was an early riser by nature, but there was early, and then there was *insane*.

"Hmm, it's almost seven! Don't you want to at least eat breakfast with me?" Dorian cajoled.

"Half a moment," Klaus groaned, starting to sit up slowly, careful with his chest this time. *Seven*? Then he was running late; the sickness was the cause of it, though. Mornings were bad, because everything seemed to settle in his chest overnight, making the coughing and breathing of his daily efforts harder than they were the rest of the day.

"I have coffee for you. That will help to loosen things up a bit, hm? Heat always does seem to help." He also had tea for himself -- he preferred it, first thing in the morning. "Would you like to visit the loo first?"

"God, I can do that on my own," Klaus muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up, having to stop for a moment to cough. "I'm going to shower. Leave my coffee alone while I'm gone."

"Of course, my love," came the demure reply, Dorian now pouring tea into his cup carefully. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything to it. Really."

"Really?" Klaus snorted, tone more of doubt than of question as he padded quietly into the hallway, and across to the bathroom to begin his daily ablutions.

By the time he came back, Dorian had obviously been out and back again, for oatmeal had been added to the tray as well as a lovely, fresh red rose. "Welcome back, darling. Breakfast is all ready, and I didn't touch your coffee. I swear."

He looked better, the shower and clean, non-hospital shampooed hair having done wonders for how he felt. "The rose, Dorian...?" he asked, moving back to the bed to sit down and eat.

"Just because," Dorian said, smiling slowly. "Only because I'm happy that you're feeling better. An indulgence, if you will."

"You're keeping it," Klaus snorted as he picked up the coffee and the toast. "Where are you hiding your men...? They haven't been underfoot."

"Busy," Eroica dismissed easily. "I sent them home. James made an awful fuss about it, but then, he still did what I told him to."

"So you're here alone...?" It didn't seem like Eroica, but he was glad that there were less people there than he'd thought. Even feeling better, there would have been no way to protect his family's art collection from a pack of thieves, short of multiple murders. "I didn't want you to spend all of your time *worrying*, darling. That's just what I was trying to prevent, you know!!" Dorian told him firmly. "Would you like anything for your coffee, love? Really, how you drink it that way...!" Black, no cream and only a little sugar, when Dorian's looked full well as if half of the cup was made up of the latter two!

"It's best this way," Klaus told him, cradling the steaming cup in his hands -- hot, and black. Pure perfection. "Coffee wakes one up." The hot liquid would make his chest feel better, too, just as the quick shower had. As he took the first sip, he half realized what Dorian had called him -- then decided it not worth the effort to so belatedly yell at the thief.

"Oh, right, yes, you're right, your chest," Dorian said thoughtfully. "But no cream..." He shuddered slightly. "Well, to each his own, darling."

"It assures no one drinks it on me, too," Klaus went on, sitting back against the headboard. "How long will you stay here, Lord Gloria?"

For a second, he saw a visible pause before the tall blond thief smiled brightly. "Oh, a while longer yet, Major. I want to be sure that you're up to your usual crankiness before I abandon you, you know. Besides, if I leave too soon, you'll just have all of your Alphabet here to boss, and why make the lot of them suffer through your temper when I'm already accustomed?" he teased.

"They said I am mostly healthy and that this should not trouble me again. You will not *need* to be here for very much longer." Even though, he'd just so recently gotten back from hospital! He still felt tired, and he'd only just gotten up -- but there was no need for Lord Gloria to see that!

"Of course," Dorian answered smoothly. "I won't trouble you for very long, Major." Even though the thought of leaving was terrible. Damn Klaus, anyway! He'd been in love with his Major for years, had forsaken half of his friends and all of his lovers, and he was still no closer to winning him, even so much as once!

"Thank you for that," Klaus murmured. He was steadily draining the coffee cup, and set it aside on the table with less than a sip left in it. "You've been behaving."

The response was lightly spoken, as if it wasn't true. "You'd kick me out if I didn't, now, wouldn't you, darling? And I'm not ready to go just yet."

"I might have kicked you out." Hard to admit that, but it was true -- he didn't *completely* want the thief gone. He just wanted to stop being pestered. "I still haven't thanked you for your work on the mission."

"There's no need, but thank you all the same," Dorian replied cheerfully. "James has made certain that we were paid for it. Well," he said, still smiling, "you KNEW he would, Major."

"Of course." There was a blessing -- his health had prevented *him* from being the one to get the brat's bill to go over. Probably A ended up with the job, poor fool... "Will you be willing to go on further missions with me...?"

"Haven't I always been?" came the soft question. "Don't fret, darling."

"I am not fretting." Though, from the frown on his face, he seemed to be! Shifting again, Klaus brought a hand up to cover his mouth, stifling back a cough. "You are the one who has been fretting."

"Mmmm." That passed as agreement before Dorian brought out a blue plastic box with several little separated tops. "Time for meds, darling. The doctor insists, and it's best if you take them with breakfast. There will be more in the evening, you know."

"Tell me what I'm taking, as I take them," Klaus warned, reaching for the glass of water Dorian had brought up with him.

"I've got them all set up!" Dorian protested. "And I'll tell your staff before I leave. The big white one is the diuretic, the red one and the pink one are antibiotics. The little orange one is for assisting with your breathing, and there's also an inhaler, to open the bronchial tubes. The smaller white one is aspirin -- it's good for your heart, darling, so don't fight me!" Dorian said sternly. "And the pink and grey one is for pain, and don't tell me you don't feel any."

"The pain isn't so bad." Except when he moved too fast, or bent to the left side of his body, which he was conspicuously avoiding doing. "Hand them to me, then."

The medication was handed over and Dorian watched as he took them, almost afraid that if he DIDN'T watch, Klaus wouldn't take them. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it, now?"

"I didn't claim there was anything bad about taking them," Klaus growled quietly after he drained the water-glass and set it back.

"Well, no, you didn't, but *I've* never been partial to meds, so I don't see why you should be." And God, everyone Dorian knew took SOMETHING, from vitamins to quite a lot worse... "I shouldn't like it at all."

"I won't have to do this for much longer," Klaus shrugged as he settled back down. "It's an end to a goal."

"Of course." And *damn*, wasn't that just irritating? Having the damned thief agree with him was even worse than having him *annoy* him!

He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't... "Since when have you become a 'yes man', Eroica?"

"Since I want you to get better," the thief said calmly. "Is there something that you'd like to do today that we can do in here? Nothing strenuous, mind," he murmured with a wink, as if implying exactly what Klaus thought he was implying.

It gained him a sour look for his troubles. "I'll read today."

"I'll bring you the book that was beside your bed," Dorian told him with a remarkable twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you." And he wondered, suspiciously for a moment, if Dorian had gone and switched the historical novel with something else.

The thief hadn't, though it had been awfully *tempting* to replace it. He didn't want to place poor Klaus under any more strain, though it would have been so amusing to see him yell... /Well,/ he thought with a sigh as he handed it over, /perhaps later./ "Is there anything else you'd like? Chocolates? Fruit?" /Me?/

"Quiet?" Klaus asked with the most remarkable of sneers.

"Of course." He gave in graciously, even though that expression hurt! "I'll be back when it's time for supper. Someone will bring you lunch," he said softly, though he'd not intended that to be so, only... only for the moment, he thought he'd hide and not think about that look for a while, perhaps lay down and rest himself. He wasn't entirely well yet, though at least his face hadn't been bruised badly or broken, and he'd been so wrapped up in making sure that the ungrateful Major was well that he hadn't been tending to himself! In his own forgivable stresses, Klaus had probably forgotten that any damage at all had been done to Dorian. "I'm sure you won't miss me while I'm gone." It was said with forced cheer, but cheer nonetheless as the door half-shut behind him.

~~~~~~

Somehow, that comment had bit into Klaus's mind, and hadn't let him rest through the day; he'd napped, if restlessly, and the pain had been stabbingly annoying, with nothing to detract from it but a book he'd read too many times already.

Still, it was evening now, and distraction was certain to come -- indeed, it did, with the sight of Eroica pushing open the door and stepping inside. He'd changed again -- that was inevitable with Eroica -- but for once, it was nothing more or less simple than a pair of jeans and a black sweater, even if it *did* look like it was angora. "Supper is served," he said breezily, turning on the lights. "Heavens, darling, you've been trying to read almost in the dark! That can't be good for you, you know."

He admitted, if slowly, "I wasn't really reading."

"Oh?" That was a sound of curiosity, truly, as Dorian settled the tray down and fidgeted with plates and glasses, settling Klaus's on his bed-tray first. It was steak with cut new potatoes, tossed salad carefully placed in a bowl to the side. Wine of any sort was conspicuously absent -- indeed, he had instead a glass of water and a cup of tea, and there was a pot on the tray should he want more. "What were you doing in the dark, Major?"

"Trying to sleep." It didn't sound like he'd been very successful, just from the man's tone of voice, as he sat up a little, pushing the bedclothes down around his waist. "I hate sitting here all day."

Eroica settled the teapot down on the table where the tray had lain and sat with the tray now in his lap, his own supper remarkably like Klaus's. "Well, perhaps tomorrow, you'd like to do something else," he suggested. "Your attics are full of interesting things, Klaus. If you like, we could spend some time there going through old things... or, if it would bother you very much to do it with me, perhaps some member of your staff could go, instead."

"No... I would be willing to do that," Klaus murmured. It would, at least, be something to do, and when Dorian was intent on artwork, he wasn't intent on *him*.

That brought a smile, and it was strange for him to realize that it was Eroica's first of the evening. It seemed that the other man was always smiling, often laughing, and usually at ~him~. "Excellent. I won't wake you quite so early, since you're having a bit of trouble sleeping. I've got a pill for that, as well, if you like," he said, beginning to eat, paying attention to the tray. "And if you need your pain medication more often, let me know? You can have it every six hours. I'm sorry I didn't mention it this morning, Major."

"That might be what I needed," the Major sighed quietly. Well, he'd gone and killed Dorian's mood along with his own -- it didn't make him feel any better. If anything, it made his own mood drop a bit farther down as he stabbed listlessly at his plate for a moment.

"You really need to eat, darling," Dorian told him firmly. "I don't mean to be a wet blanket, truly, only I've only just woken from my own nap. I'm a bit tired, still." And hurting, too, because he was just a tad stiffer than he'd been this morning.

"Where are you staying in the residence?" Klaus asked, finally spearing a piece of potato and putting it in his mouth to satisfy his own hunger, and Dorian's want for him to eat.

The blond man glanced up and said, "Oh, upstairs, near your room." Actually, he was staying *in* Klaus's room. The bed had been too big to bring downstairs, so they'd brought another. It wasn't such a terrible sin to want to sleep where his beloved usually did, was it?

"It is warmer down here -- if you were not on the third floor, you would stiffen up less." Klaus sounded the voice of experience in that, strangely enough, but how had he guessed...?!

"Is that an invitation to sleep with you, darling?" Dorian teased, eyes suddenly alight with humor. "I think your servants would slaughter me if I made them bring *another* bed down, you know!"

"I am not suggesting you sleep *with* me," Klaus growled. "Just that it would be easier for both of us to be on the same floor."

The lovely thief's eyes were still alight with humor, though, and so perhaps the night wasn't lost entirely, after all. "Ah, but darling, I could show you delights undreamed of by other men," he promised teasingly, leaning forward slightly despite his stiffness. "Are you certain?"

"How many times, Eroica, must I tell you no before you realize I mean it?" Klaus asked with a sigh, stabbing another potato. "Eat your supper, and then tell my servants to move another bed down."

"You'll have to tell me forever, darling," Dorian said sadly, "because I'll love you just that long." Supper might as well have been ashes, for he couldn't bring himself to eat it. "I've left your medicine. I'll have to go find it..."

"Don't bother. I have a butler for a reason, though if he knows the reason any longer..." Klaus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt a cough building steadily in his chest, threatening to rise up.

"It's all right," came the quick answer, Dorian already on the rise, though stiffly. "I know where I left it. I'll be right back, truly." Now Klaus watched him with hooded concern, as the thief left. No, he wasn't happy at all anymore; wasn't even bothering to try to fake it. And it was surely all Klaus's fault. /But why feel guilty because I can't love that fag thief...? I'm not that way, and even if I were.../

Even if he were, Eroica was still a thief, and he was still a NATO agent. But he wasn't that way...

It took only moments for Dorian to return, infamous smile plastered on again. "Hello, darling, found it with ease. I'd left it next to the bed this morning. I knew I must have done something terribly silly with it, and then I had to track down the sleeping meds. Take it all with food, if you please. It's best that way, hm?"

"Are you taking anything...?" Klaus asked after a moment, putting forth the effort to try a piece of his as yet untouched steak.

"Pain meds," Dorian said. "An antibiotic for a cut that required some stitches. I'm afraid that's why I didn't bring you lunch. I was a bit groggy." That wasn't too much of a stretch, really. He HAD been a bit sleepy, once he'd taken his medication!

"You'd planned on being groggy, though...?" Klaus's voice wasn't suspicious -- it was more worry than anything. What if, dammit, the thief was neglecting himself, or abusing the medications...?

"Yes," Dorian replied airily. "I didn't take the pain meds at all the day before because things were so busy, and I knew that the effects today would, therefore, be unpleasant." It was a rational explanation, surely!

"Oh." Klaus seemed to take it, or at least not bother pressing the issue. "Then you shouldn't worry so much about me as you should yourself."

"Why not just recuperate together? I'll keep you entertained if you'll do the same for me," Dorian offered.

"I don't know how to... entertain you," Klaus said truthfully, looking at dinner with a feeling of nausea for a moment, before moving to just take his pills.

Dorian was smiling, though, and he was eating again. "Just be yourself, darling. I'll try not to get upset, hm? It's the meds, truly. We'll go upstairs tomorrow, and it will be all right. I'll set the maids to dusting so it won't bother your lungs."

"What's left of them," Klaus grumbled, drinking the water, then looking at his plate again, trying to find it in himself to finish it.

"Eat some of your salad, Major. I promise, green things won't kill you."

"Are you sure...?" Klaus nearly bit it out, but refrained as he took a stab at that, too.

"Quite certain," Dorian replied. "Besides, if you eat it, I'll let you have something for dessert."

The Major put his fork down suddenly, to glare at Dorian. "I'm not hungry and no amount of 'bribery' will change that." With a roll of aquamarine eyes, Dorian gave a sigh. He just wasn't meant for dealing with the ill!! "All right, darling, you can have dessert now, if you like, or not at all, if you would prefer. I only..." Well, he'd only wanted to make Klaus smile, but that was stupid of him, wasn't it? "I only meant to let you know that there *was* dessert, if you wanted it."

But the miserable bastard wasn't going to smile, it seemed, unless he wanted to. The plate was put aside entirely, a waste of good food, and Klaus shifted with a many good winces to lay down again, and try to sleep. "Good-night, Dorian."

"Good night, Klaus." Ah, it was said so tenderly, and the urge to kiss his darling, grumpy Major goodnight was a bittersweet sorrow that chased through him as he gathered the plates and the teapot, too. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning, and we'll explore, hm?"

"Yes..." And in the morning, he'd make an effort to be better to the thief -- nicer, kinder... anything he could manage.

With that, the lights were turned off and the door gently shut behind Dorian before he headed to the kitchen to drop off the tray and from there, back upstairs to Klaus's room to climb in the bed, where at least he could stay while his darling Major didn't yet know.

~~~~~

"LOOK at this, darling! It's incredible!" Dorian cried, delving into the bottom of a wide trunk.

"What knick-knack have you found now...?" Klaus moved from the chair he'd been sitting in, over to the thief to see what he was peering at.

Carefully, Dorian pulled up costumery from what appeared to be the late sixteenth century -- the clothing of the Man in Purple. "It's his *clothes* darling, and there are... oh, my, there are other things, too, oh, dear, I don't think you should look in here, after all!" Even Dorian's face was flaming as he peered inside, but it was mostly from the thought of what Klaus might do or say when *he* saw it!

Old, old clothing, that looked as if it would break and shatter in seconds of any touch at all lay close to Dorian's hands. "Nothing could be so horrible, and still be in the house here..." Unless Dorian had picked a lock to get into the trunk, and then who knew?!

"You don't want to see it, darling, really!" Dorian urged as Klaus peeked over the edge and into the trunk.

The Major looked in for a moment, and then quickly backpedaled. In the trunk there was!!! A...!!!

"I warned you, darling," Dorian reminded him, shaking his head. Laying inside the trunk were, he was already certain, a GREAT many things -- indeed, leather straps so old they might as well be dust with silver buckles tarnished down to almost nothing, not to mention the gathered writings which Dorian knew at first sight to be rare and erotic titles, and the various other no-doubt entertaining items buried beneath -- but there was ONE thing which he knew had nearly sent poor Klaus right over the edge.

It laid there, innocent-enough in its open bed of dusty red velvet, old ivory that gleamed with the yellow-white glow of all such beautiful old things. Indeed, it was a work of art, if you got right down to it, for the thing was carved with little symbols and what appeared to be Sanskrit, he was nearly certain. The words were words of love and the pictures were little intricate glimpses of sexual couplings -- obviously, since the dildo was beautifully made and obviously well cared for, despite its having lain centuries in a trunk. "Sorry, darling. I tried to tell you," he said again.

"Why did you call me over here, if such things were in there?" Klaus bellowed quietly, still five steps back from the trunk. What *was* that? Who in *his* family would have owned... such a thing!

"I didn't *know*, darling, honestly! I only wanted to show you the clothing! I mean, I did pick the lock on the thing, true, but EVERYTHING in here is locked, and there wasn't anything naughty in the first two! You know," Dorian said thoughtfully, "it must have been *his*, though -- your man in purple."

"*Your* man in purple! I could care less about that painting!" Klaus told him flatly, still not nearing it.

Dorian glanced back at him. "Well, you know, darling, you really *ought* to let me have it since you dislike it so. Look," he said, peering inside again. "A diary! How remarkable!"

"What perverted things it must hold," Klaus sighed, moving back to the chair. "Unless it covers his warfare exploits, I don't want to hear it..."

"Tell you what, darling. I'll read it and let you know, hm?" Dorian asked eagerly. "Would that be all right?"

"Fine, fine -- read away," Klaus snorted, waving a hand at the thief as he sat back down, ready to just glance around for another few hours while the thief burrowed happily.

"Glorious!" Dorian sighed, setting the diary down. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some of these? They're lovely stuff, classic porn, darling, SERIOUSLY classic. First edition quality and terrifyingly rare, really..."

"Out of all the people to ever go through this attic, you would find porn," Klaus pointed out, shifting again, restless and tired, before he got out of the chair again to go look at the weaponry on the far side of the room -- old, dusty swords and guns...

At that, Dorian couldn't help but laugh. "Well, darling, it was here to *find*, don't you know," he said cheerfully, shrugging.

"As you..." His voice trailed off into coughing, but it didn't stop him from wandering to the other side of the attic, to look through the guns again, swaying dangerously as he walked until he could support himself on a piece of old 'antique' furniture.

"Let's go back downstairs." The words were said slowly, solemnly. "I'm awfully tired already, and I know you probably aren't, but all of this dust can't be good, either..."

Klaus had wanted to take another look at the sword on the wall, check the edge, and what a good cleaning would do for it... "What do you want to do until night, then...?"

"A nap wouldn't hurt either of us," Eroica pointed out calmly. "We're still getting well, you know."

"Are you going to move downstairs, or not...?" Klaus questioned him, leading the way down the narrow steps that would put them on the third floor.

"Probably not," the blond thief murmured. "It would be a lot of trouble for your staff, and they aren't as fond of me as my own, so I'd just as soon not push it, you understand."

"It would be easier for everyone if you were to, though..." Still, Klaus wasn't going to press it -- else it would seem to the thief as if an invitation to bed with him, which it wasn't. It was a want to make Eroica more comfortable in his household.

"Oh, I promise I'm not making a mess, darling," Dorian replied. "I mean, there's little for your maids to take care of come morning." That was entirely true, for Dorian didn't want Klaus to know that he was sleeping in his bed!

"No, I mean..." Hell, he didn't know *what* he meant! Setting foot on the floor at last, Klaus moved a little forward, waiting for Dorian. "Find anything you want to keep?"

"Oh, maybe. I want to read the diary first, darling, and see what's in it, but some of the other things in that trunk, maybe. I mean, the books *are* something else, really, they are..." Not to mention that dildo, which was a beautiful piece of work!

"I would wager his diary is nothing more than a log of events," Klaus murmured. No relative of *his* would have ever done more!

Dorian just smiled, though, an almost dreamy expression on his face. "Well, we'll see, darling. After all, you never know! We might at least find out quite a bit more interesting history on your relatives, you know. Diaries and old letters are marvelous things!"

"Why... don't we read it after supper?" Klaus asked after a moment, walking with familiarity down the hall, towards the stairs.

Oh, that made Dorian so happy he could have floated down the stairs instead of mundanely treading down beside Klaus. "That sounds marvelous! A peek into sixteenth century life, among other things," he said with a smile. "How utterly delicious."

"I never thought you would find history appealing," Klaus mused as he took each step with a careful precision, hand already on the rail.

"Of course I do, dear-heart!" A sniff came from the blond man, but it was distinctly teasing. "History and art are inevitably wrapped up around one another, bound together as much as..." As you and I, he had started to say, but he wasn't in the mood for Klaus's yells. "Well, as Atlas is to holding up the world, say. It was inevitable, really."

"Inevitable." Dorian was such a romantic, hopelessly so... Klaus led the way down that set of steps, and then down the next, finally getting them onto the bottom floor. "Are you feeling better today than yesterday?"

"Yes. Less stiff, thank you. I took an electric blanket to bed. Sweat dreadfully, but at least I didn't feel as if I'd been beaten again when I got out of bed," was the answer, definitely amused. "And you, darling?"

"Better," Klaus lied fairly well in his own opinion, sitting down on the second step from the bottom. It was a nice view, the marble was cool, and it was a casual position to take.

Eroica seemed to accept that even as he sat down beside him, leaning back against the other steps, draping himself over them in an infinitely graceful and beautiful way. "Hmmm," he agreed. "I'm very tired now, though. Thank you for letting me rest a moment." He wouldn't dare suggest that it was Klaus who needed the rest!

Klaus let his gaze drift to the side, looking at Dorian for a fraction of a second. "You're welcome, Dorian."

Thick gold lashes shadowed the cheeks there, Dorian's face beautiful in relaxation. Lips parted just slightly, his golden curls riotously spilling over the stairs. "I could fall asleep right here," he said, and the realization that he WAS awfully sleepy came to him even as he clutched the diary more tightly.

"I know... that I could, if my chest didn't hurt," Klaus admitted after a moment. "Being so tired is odd for me. I'm not accustomed to this..."

"It will get better," Dorian promised quietly. "Only you really have to give it time, darling. Most people aren't out of bed for weeks when they have the sort of surgery you've had... Let's go on down the hall, shall we? It isn't that much farther to the bed..."

"It's so hard to breathe sometimes..." Klaus brought himself to his feet on his own, though, a stunt that only he could pull -- standing tall, though leaning on a table at the bottom of the steps -- and waited for Dorian to rise, too.

The other man's movements remained slightly stilted, but he was up, as well, and yawning slightly, thick leather-bound book held in his hands. "Perhaps I'll even manage to make it as far as a couch before I fall asleep," he said jokingly. "And to think, it's only a little past lunch!"

"There's a couch in the parlor, if you wish," Klaus offered, walking beside the other man on the way down the long hall.

"That sounds just perfect," Dorian said drowsily, yawning again. "Oh, dear!"

"How much medication are you taking?" Klaus asked seriously, giving Dorian a pointed look for that yawn.

"Just what they told me to. I told you, I don't like meds, darling. Even as a child, a tablespoon of medication could put me right to sleep, and that's not changed very much. I wouldn't dream of taking too much and dying on you," he said lightly.

Klaus was snorted at, and then he turned the corner into the parlour, which was serving as a bedroom. "Lay down on the couch -- that way I can keep an eye on you." Dorian was still partly his responsibility, wasn't he? If he hadn't been on that mission, it never would have happened...

"I promise I'm not dangerous," Eroica said, yawning again and trudging towards the couch fairly obediently. He wasn't sure he could keep his eyes open for much else! The book was laid on a table and then he deposited himself on the couch, drawing in a deep sigh as he nestled comfortably into it. "Mmmm..."

Klaus moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, feeling tired and winded for a moment. It was safe to feel that way, since Dorian was already curling up to sleep... "Have a nice nap, love," Dorian murmured, eyes only slightly open to peer at Klaus as he kicked off his shoes and began to lean back slowly into the bed. "If I'm not awake when you open your eyes, nudge me, and I'll go fetch supper for us both."

"I'll do that," Klaus murmured in a sigh of air, leaning back into the comfort of the sheets. He'd only sleep for a moment...

~~~~~

It was quite a bit longer than a moment, for when he next opened his eyes, it was entirely dark in the room, and sleep was difficult to abandon. The temptation to close his eyes again was there, but a distinct rumble of his stomach announced that it just might be supper time. If that was the case, Eroica wasn't awake yet, either, since the room was still dark.

"Dorian..." A slow drawl of noise drifted to the thief as Klaus stiffly shifted into a half-sitting lean. "Lord Gloria..."

"Hmmmmm?" Ah, that was an erotic little noise, wasn't it? Klaus decided that he didn't notice it, though if he had known how the sound of his own soft drawl had wrapped itself around Dorian's dreams, he would have bellowed. "'m awake... five more minutes..."

"Not five more minutes," Klaus pressed, louder now -- sleepily speaking, which was still as loud as most people's daily conversation. "Wake up..."

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Dorian said drowsily, forcing himself to sit up. "I'm awake. Really, Klaus. I am." He wasn't, though, for he could feel his head nodding forward again.

Dorian had never been the best of morning persons. It was unfortunately, evening, or at least, Klaus hoped it was -- he couldn't tell in the darkness. "Good."

"Hm." The sound of Klaus's voice was so good in the dark, made him yearn so very deeply... "Oh. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" he was asked in turn. Then Dorian could hear Klaus moving, looking for something -- then the sound of shattering glass, and a distinctive 'shit' that turned into a wracking cough.

"Hold still, darling. Don't get up," Dorian warned. "I'll try to do something about it...." And naturally, they were both without shoes! "Look, I'll put on my shoes and turn on the lights and fetch someone to clean it up. I'll get your meds, darling."

Klaus didn't seem to be getting up, though, or even trying. He was coughing again, one of those unpleasant fits of it that felt like they were ripping up his chest from the inside out. He'd wanted to get the water before it got so bad, but there was nothing to do for it now.

"Just a minute," Dorian said, hurriedly slipping on one shoe and hoping that would do as he hurried for the door. "Ah! Ow, damn, oh, hell, hold on, hold on!" he said, yelling out the door, "Would someone bring some water! Quickly please!!!" Flipping on the lights, he sank into a chair and pulled a glass shard from his heel. "Well, if we get any more accident prone, darling, they'll have to just lock us up in a big room full of feather-padded walls..."

No reply yet, just more coughing, Klaus trying to nod, to say anything past it -- though, as soon as the coughing became manageable, the pain in his side made a presence, clear and sharp.

"Ah, God, I'm sorry, Major, they're not coming. I'll fetch some water from the bathroom, there's a cup in there, I'm sure, be right back!" Besides, he really wanted some gauze and alcohol, much as it would hurt...

On his way out the door, he found himself face to face with Klaus's butler. "Sir...? What's happening...? It's nearly midnight..."

"Oh, so sorry to bother you, but the Major needs some water and a glass has been broken. Gauze and antiseptic would be marvelous, please," Dorian murmured hopefully as he moved to sit back down.

The man looked confused for a moment, but finally gave up wondering how, and shrugged, leaving to fetch water, gauze, antiseptic, a rag and a dustbin. The Major had calmed some, laying back in the sheets with his jaw clenched tightly.

"Sorry, darling," Dorian apologized. "I didn't mean for us to sleep so late. When he's back, I'll wrap up my foot and scrounge in the kitchen for us. I know you MUST be hungry. I'm starving!"

"I... will help," Klaus told him at last, after a long, heavy pause. "Your foot..."

"It will be all right. Damn, that was stupid of me," Dorian admitted. "I should have put on my other shoe, but I thought you were going to choke before I could."

"No. It's just a cough," Klaus told him. A cough that strangely made him miss his cigarettes... ah, but he'd do without them, knowing what it could do to him. It brought a whole new meaning to the words 'dying for a smoke'. "I don't want you wandering the halls alone."

"Just in case I find something I like?" came the teasing response as the butler returned, handing Dorian his requested items before moving to sweep up the glass and water. "Oh, thank you."

"So, if something happens.." As had been their luck, for either of them. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Dorian said calmly as he wrapped up his foot, the butler finishing up quietly. "That does seem to be how things are going lately, doesn't it?" he said easily, almost as if he had read Klaus's thoughts!

"Is there anything else, sir?" The butler asked Klaus, as he took back the mercurochrome from Dorian, standing there with the swept up glass and water.

"No," Klaus growled in a particularly unhappy voice.

"We'll see to ourselves," Dorian informed him. "Nothing to worry about, toddle along back to bed now, so sorry to have wakened you!"

"We really overslept," Klaus sighed, leaning back for a moment, before he started to sit up carefully. "Let us have no more adventures today..."

"Definitely not," Dorian sighed, smiling as the butler left the room. "Let's go get something to eat, hm?"

"Yes -- let me just get up..." His own energy level stayed within a moderate area -- Dorian, however, swung from too active to under-active. It took Klaus a moment to slide his shoes back on, and stand, smoothing out his clothes. /Should have changed.../

Deciding not to put on his other shoe due to his cut foot, Dorian stood on the ball of it, instead, head tilted to the side. "Oh, Klaus," he said, a certain tender fondness in his voice. "Come here. Your hair is everywhere."

"Hmm?" That didn't quite make sense to him, as he moved closer to Dorian.

Slowly, hands moved up, smoothing black strands, tucking them behind Klaus's ears. "You've got a rat's nest in the back," Dorian said, "and me without a brush. It will be all right, darling. It's just you and me, and I promise not to laugh."

"There's a brush in the bathroom... Yours isn't too good, either." Though, the curls helped hide tangles, he was sure of it. "After we eat."

"Mmm," Dorian said in agreement, quite pleased with himself before he yawned slightly, stretching. "Ohhh, we slept so long!" he said as they moved out into the hall, being careful not to set his heel down fully. That would just be asking for pain, and while Dorian was many things, he was NOT particularly masochistic!

"Rummaging is tiring business," Klaus agreed in his own way. The stretch he gave was far more restrained than Dorian's, a movement of limbs that didn't move too much of his chest.

"We'll just make sandwiches, I think, and maybe warm a can of soup. Surely they'll have something like that, don't you think? How do you feel about tomato?" the blond asked him. "Then, we can read aloud for a bit, hm?"

"Yes. And I'll find that brush." They'd probably be awake for another three or four hours, and then sleep more until the next afternoon. Such a terrible feeling of wasting time that Klaus had! His companion didn't seem to mind it, though, and in the strangest way, the dark-haired German was becoming quite accustomed to the frivolous-seeming Brit. Indeed, Dorian almost revelled in their idleness, for whatever reason he might have. It really didn't occur to Klaus that it was because they were together and because they were being civil to one another.

"That sounds perfect."

It did to Klaus, too, and that disturbed him more than he was willing to let on. "We will have to become re-accustomed to normal hours, after this, Dorian."

"I've never lived normal hours, anyway, darling," Dorian chuckled. "But it would be awfully nice to stay awake for longer than three or four hours at a time, it's true."

"I am used to sleeping only that much, so this is an annoying change." He felt tired again, and noted that he should have just stayed in bed, probably just gone back to sleep, instead of following Dorian to the kitchen. "I can hardly wait..."

"'til you're back terrorizing your poor Alphabet again," came the teasing response as they walked into the kitchen. "Sit down, and I'll rummage about, hm?"

"There's probably something ready for us in the refrigerator," he told Dorian, sitting down on a stool at the island.

Opening the industrial-sized steel refrigerator, Klaus's companion almost had to laugh. It had enough food to feed a third world country, he decided, and right up front was a tray covered in green plastic wrap. "Good call, love."

"They cook anticipating that I and whoever else is here will eat three meals a day." Not that it happened often, if ever.

"I hadn't really thought of it," Dorian confessed, peering at it. "Cold chicken, potatoes, a roll and beans. Shall I warm it or shall we eat it as is?"

"As is will be fine." The less trouble, the better, and less chance that something could go wrong.

"Well, then, let's take it back. I'll read to you while we eat and be lazy and let the servants collect the tray tomorrow, hm?"

"It would be good if they did something around here," was the agreeing grumble, Klaus already getting to his feet.

Aquamarine eyes rolled slightly when Klaus wasn't looking. "It's my fault, really. I wanted to be allowed to be close to you, and this was truly the best way to do it..."

"At least with you here, there is someone to talk with." Hard to admit, but he didn't *talk* to his servants the way that Dorian surely would.

"AND explore with," Dorian decided. "Maybe we'll feel well enough again in a few days to take another crack at the attics. We'll let the maids clean a bit better and have someone take up really good chairs and perhaps even a cot or two. It's not unpleasantly cold or anything, so..."

"And this time we will split time evenly between knick-knacks and weaponry." Klaus was firm in that, but not unpleasant, as they started off down the hall again.

"Of course!" Dorian agreed. "Just as pleases you, darling. I wouldn't want you to get bored while I root around looking at dusty old woodcuts or something."

"I meant it when I told you that if you find something striking and worthless, you can take it."

Tentatively, Dorian murmured, "I wouldn't mind having some of the things in Tyrian's trunk..." Oh, one or two things in specific!

"You can take those perverted books." Why ever a relative of his would have something like that!!! Then again, Tyrian had been a notorious scoundrel.

"And the rest?" he asked slyly as they pushed open the door to the parlour and stepped inside.

Klaus paused a moment, then turned away, to go across the hall for a moment. "If it's filthy, you can take it with you."

"MARVELOUS," Dorian sighed loudly enough for Klaus to hear, already thinking of the lovely object, too lovely to sell and *much* too remarkable to set up in some shrine. No, he decided, it would be much better if it was used as it was meant to be.... A wicked smile crossed his lips. "I'll take care of it, darling. I won't let any of it bother you for even a moment."

When Klaus came back with a sturdy and comfortable looking hair-brush in hand, he just answered, "As long as I don't hear about it."

"Not a peep," Dorian promised, "I'll do my best!"

"Thank you." He sat back down on the bed, and after a look between Dorian and the chair the man was heading towards, and patted, once, the spot beside him on the bed. "Sit down and I'll untangle your hair."

THAT was a rather surprising development, and certainly not an offer that Eroica could bear to turn down! Carefully, attempting not to appear hurried, he settled on the bed and sighed deeply, waiting. "Thank you, Major," he murmured, closing his eyes. If he just let the feel of it wash through him when Klaus started, and used his imagination...

The Major's movements were steady, and unstoppable, just as Dorian had predicted they would be. He was surprisingly good at it, not jerking at knots, knowing when to pull the brush free and try it again; but he should know, given his own long hair. It was strange to feel those roughened hands working gently through his thick hair. By the time he was done, Dorian was nearly purring with delight, and barely capable of hiding his desire. "Thank you," he said again, voice husky, when the brushing stopped. "That feels much better. May I brush yours, now?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Klaus had fallen into a quiet contentment, glad to be doing something that wasn't really anything at all. He turned a little on the bed, as best he could, and held still.

The feel of Dorian's fingers came first, threading through tangles gently, straightening out the rat's nest their nap had made of his hair before beginning to use the brush. Tender would have best described it, light and easy until black strands flowed like silk beneath his hands, and he didn't want to stop -- no, he didn't want to, and so he didn't. Even though they were both hungry, he just kept brushing for another moment or two before finally saying, "There. Now we're presentable."

"Presentable to go to bed," Klaus murmured a bit wryly. He'd been getting the start of a headache before, and it had passed entirely with that delightful, slow brushing of his hair. No one else had ever done that before, and it felt wonderful. "Thank you, Dorian."

"You're very welcome," the warm voice came from behind him. "Shall we eat, now? And read a bit, I think."

"Yes..." He turned slowly, and found himself shockingly close to Dorian again. Rather than lash out, though, he just scooted back. "Where did you put the book...?"

"Hmm, on the table where.. Yes, there, where I put the dinner tray. Hold on, here, I'll..." He rose, graceful despite the wound to his foot, and brought their dinner to the bed. "Unless you'd rather eat on the sofa," he said.

"I don't really want to move," Klaus uttered with a small, barely hidden yawn.

"Then we'll stay here," Dorian murmured, removing the plastic wrap. The kitchen help must be awfully good, he decided -- silverware was on the tray, napkins, everything except tea, and they had water, so that would be all right. "Here."

"Thank you." Even cold, Klaus knew it would be good, filling, and that Dorian would probably enjoy it, too. It was better than British food, he was sure of that!

They ate together in silence, using fingers as much as their forks, for the cold chicken was determined that it would not be eaten! Still, it was a satisfying meal, and one they both enjoyed as much for the company as for the food. "If I eat another bite, I'll burst," Dorian finally sighed, patting his belly slightly. "That was wonderful."

"I think I could go to sleep right now," Klaus agreed, leaning to set the tray on the bedside stand. It was a stretch, though, and that movement made him wince. "Mmm... missed my medication time."

"I'll make sure they wake us, if we try to sleep through again," Dorian said, regretting that he'd not wakened. Drugs of any sort made him so *tired*... "Shall I read to you a while, now?"

"Yes, if you want to." The idea of a diary kept by his ancestor was intriguing, and there was no denying that Dorian had a pleasant voice to listen to...

Dorian smiled. "Let me move this, then, and fetch it, and you get ready for bed, all right? I won't look. You can go to the bathroom down the hall or something, if you want."

"I'm too tired," Klaus sighed, getting to his feet again, slower now. It took him only a moment to snag his pajamas, and then move towards the bathroom across the hall.

By the time he was done, Dorian was settled in, laying down on the couch again with reading glasses of some sort perched on his nose. They were pure vanity -- his eyesight was fine -- but he had to admit that they DID help take the strain off if he read for a very long time. "Welcome back, darling," he said solemnly.

The German man wore satiny pajamas, probably expensive enough to make James's jaw crash to the ground if he saw them. On Klaus, though, they certainly made Dorian's jaw threaten to fall. "Nnn." The other man was holding his left side, as he slid beneath the sheets.

"Here." Dorian rose, heart beating frantically at the sight of Klaus, so beautiful and masculine and *dressed like that*, and fetched his medications. "You mustn't let me forget things like that," he chided. "We almost did, you know."

"The pain was getting... I would have asked you soon," Klaus said, cutting himself off to save on pride as he accepted the pile of pills.

"I'm sorry, darling. I should have noticed," Dorian decided. "Here." That was the water he needed, and he watched Klaus take his medicine before taking anything back.

Every last damned pill, and the entirety of the water glass. "Have you taken yours...?"

"It's all upstairs. I'll take it in a bit, after I've read to you a while..."

Klaus frowned at him for a moment, then sighed heavily. "I'll fall asleep while you read. Just a warning to be polite."

"I'll keep an eye out," Eroica promised, stepping back to seat himself on the couch and opening up the diary, looking down. "Atrocious penmanship, darling. I'm glad yours is so much better," he said before beginning to read.

~~~~~

My life brims with blessings and curses -- often in the same breath I draw I find both, close on my heels.

Sometimes standing right before me.

To be perfectly honest about the matter, it's a wonder that the damnable pirate hasn't chased me down and chopped me to pieces as of yet. If I wasn't so good at what I do and if the British navy wasn't so large, I suppose he very well would have.

In my lifetime I have never seen a man with such a splitting of personalities. Each of us has a personal life and a work life, but he refuses to let the two collide!

More the pity for me, and more the blessing.

The whole matter is maddening, i' faith. 'Tis one thing and then another and never anything one expects at all! Perhaps that's what I like best about it all, in the end -- that unexpectedness, never knowing what will be shown to me from one moment to the next, maddening and utterly captivating. The ridiculous bastard. And all because of what I did to his family... Feh!

It was deserved of them. But that does not stop him from hunting after El Acon, from trying to turn a justice into in an injustice.

So when I next meet him, I never know which side he will turn to me -- his fists or his arse. Both are powerful things to have turned, but I prefer one to the other, more of his blood and flesh displayed than my own.

That, I suppose, is inevitable.

~~~~~

Klaus, though, wasn't even there to catch that ancient innuendo -- he was dozing, having slumped back into the thick pillows at the head of the bed.

"Poor darling," Dorian whispered, closing the book and marking his place carefully with a scrap of paper that he found in a drawer. "Sleep well, my beloved," he breathed, feathering a kiss over Klaus's brow before turning to walk away, shutting off the lights and leaving the door halfway open as he walked towards the stairs and up them. He was exhausted, and it was far past time for his own medications, too. /In the morning,/ he decided, /perhaps I'll read some more./

~~~~~

Morning dawned, brighter than it had been in a while, and Klaus was awake before Dorian. He had been awake before him for the past several days, even though waking up before him was eight in the morning. Still, before was before, and that meant that he had the opportunity for a leisurely shower and the chance to change the dressing on his chest. The gash still looked distinctly nasty, but he didn't feel his ribs grating together anymore. That in and of itself was a strange sort of relief, despite the slight drainage that remained, for lack of a better word, *nasty*. At least it was healing. Given another month, there wouldn't be a sign left on him that he'd ever had such trouble beyond a scar. It had been a month to the day since his last cigarette, and though he missed them, he was noticing things. His senses of taste and smell were coming back, slowly but surely, and breathing was certainly easier than it had been when it had all happened.

"Darling?" The voice was muffled, coming as it did from down the hallway. "He must be bathing," Dorian decided aloud, and the fact that he was talking to himself fairly amused Klaus.

Did the thief always talk to himself...? Probably. He certainly talked a lot, but it filled in for the times that Klaus just didn't talk.

"I'm here," Klaus called over the fall of the shower, switching from soap to shampoo to take his time cleaning his hair. Washing your hair in a sink could never compare to a good shower.

"Ohhh..." The sound said it all. "Well, I'll just go fetch breakfast, then, shall I? Bacon and toast and eggs just the way you like them!"

"Thank you, yes, I'd like that," he called out again shortly as he went back to shampooing his hair for long minutes before he rinsed it out.

By the time he was dry and dressed again, slowly, carefully, but without pain, Dorian had come back with breakfast and was standing by a window, looking out onto the fog and rain shrouded morning. "You seem to be in good spirits this morning," the thief murmured, teacup held lightly in both hands.

He'd re-dressed his wound, and it wasn't bothering him in the least. That had to be why... "Yes, I am. it's a good day and... ah, coffee. Wonderful." He swooped in on the poor cup, snatching it up.

Dorian only shook his head though, and smiled again. Once they'd reached a point in the diary where it had become 'unseemly', he'd stopped reading it to Klaus and begun reading it for himself. It made him sad, some, realizing that they shared ancestors who had been lovers, and in other ways, it left him inordinately pleased.

Mostly, it left him horny.

Well, a man couldn't have *everything*, he supposed. "Let's eat breakfast, shall we?"

"Yes; are we heading back up in to the attic today...?" It was nasty outside, so that ruled out walking the grounds as they'd done the day before.

"That sounds like a remarkably good idea," Eroica replied cheerfully enough, turning away from the window and moving to the small table that the servants had placed in the room four or five days before. He poured himself some more tea once seated and lifted the cover off of their breakfast. "You never know what else we may find! My, the things you have stored away up there, Klaus. Hasn't anyone gone through them, at all, recently?"

"My grandfather. Father has no interest at all in it; he's been living in Switzerland for a year now, so things have had more of a tendency to find their way and gather dust up there without him at least making sure things were clean."

"Perhaps we've done something good for our convalescence, at least," Dorian replied with a smile. "I've found everything quite fascinating."

"How much are you going to take with you when I go back on duty?"

"Just the one trunk, so far," Dorian replied. "Everything is beautiful, Major, but you're lucky. I've not been in the mood for thievery, of late." The mood for other things, however...

"I'm sure you won't lose your touch. You'll probably steal the crown jewels just to prove that being ill doesn't mean you're gone." The coffee cradled in his hands was a wonderful pleasure.

"Why, darling, what an exquisite thing to say," Dorian drawled. "Thank you."

"I'll be returning to work in a week; just desk work, for a month. Then they'll think about letting me go back to field work."

"But..." For a moment, it seemed that Dorian would protest, blue eyes widening, expression poised to do just that. He didn't want Klaus to go back to work! He wanted them to stay, just as they were.... "Well, another week will make it five. Most people wait at least eight, darling, but... of course, you're going crazy here with nothing to do." /Nothing but me.../ "I just hope you won't push yourself too much, hm?"

"Desk work for NATO is the most inactive thing in the world," Klaus sighed as he finished his coffee cup. "You put cream in this, didn't you?" It wasn't said even as a question -- just a statement of fact as the cup was set aside.

"Sorry, darling," Dorian admitted shamelessly. "It was only a tad. I got the wrong cup to start."

"That's all right," Klaus sighed, looking over to the thief. "It just seemed strange for a moment. And it reminded me how much a creature of habit I am."

"Hmmm." It was a sound of agreement, comfortable, though, and Dorian reached for a piece of toast. "Well, yes, perhaps, but still." Dorian wouldn't say that he loved him madly, that Klaus's way of being drove him to sheerly insane acts just to keep him on edge so that he could enjoy the only emotion he really got from his darling black-haired demon... oh, and wasn't that a thought? Not that Dorian hadn't been prompted to insane acts out of passion before -- after all, his obsession with art had certainly induced him to all sorts of wild actions -- but never quite like this.

The thought that companionship now lay very tenderly between them never once crossed his mind. "Are your eggs all right, darling?"

"Quite good -- did you burn them yourself, or did you let the cook?" Klaus had a habit of making jokes at the strangest times, sometimes inappropriate, sometimes when it wasn't really funny -- he had a dark, cynic's humor, and when he let it surface, it sometimes sank before the joke was said and done. It wasn't *meant* to be cruel... "I just realized, though, Dorian, that I've become used to having your company."

At that, blue eyes shifted up from Dorian's breakfast plate, landing squarely on him, taking him in as Dorian shifted his head to the side. "How remarkable," he spoke slowly, finally. "You know, I've really enjoyed myself quite a lot. I didn't... well, I rather thought you'd spend a lot of time shouting at me and me aggravating you, but it hasn't been like that at all, has it? And I'm glad!" he said with a fierceness Klaus didn't often see. "So glad!"

"I'd like to think that this... lack of tension could last longer than while you're here."

"Well, I promise not to start anything if that will make you feel better," Dorian said quietly. "I won't embarrass you, darling, or pressure you..."

"Pressure me...?" Klaus's head snapped up suddenly, looking at Dorian oddly. "About what?"

"Oh, about anything perverted or anything like that," Dorian replied, knotting his napkin in his lap. "If that's what you mean."

"If I were so perverted as you've suggested a few times, I would think I'd know by now," Klaus drawled without malice. "So I thank you for that consideration."

Unable to help himself, Dorian drew in a deep breath and sighed. "You're welcome, darling."

Klaus forked stabbed into the eggs again, and he coughed for a moment, before finishing them off. "Upstairs?"

"Mmmm," came the murmur of agreement, Dorian's own eggs left decidedly unfinished. "Let's do go. I thought I saw a *lovely* little Turner tucked away in a corner last time we were up..."

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to walk off with half the attic," Klaus murmured to himself as they moved towards the door.

"Because you're paranoid, darling," Dorian chided gently as they made their way up the steps. "You're always afraid I'm going to walk off with something, even when I tell you that I'm not. Really, if I was going to steal anything, I'd steal Tyrian." Oh, and he *would*, steal him and hang him on the wall across from his bed so that he could do nothing but look at him and think of Klaus, dream of Klaus...

"The Man in Purple?" Klaus asked for clarification's sake.

"Mmmhm. I *have* been after him for years," he reminded.

"I bet when you finally have that painting, you'll leave me be," Klaus mused. Strangely, that thought saddened him a little... but, well. He was used to Dorian there, harassing him.

"No, love," Dorian said softly as they kept climbing. "I'm afraid I never will."

"I think, Dorian, that you are the only person I can believe to hear those words from." What a picture that was -- him, retired and old, with Dorian still trying to get him...

It gained him a smile from the blond. "I'll be there always," he promised softly. "Right 'til you finally push me over the edge of some cliff somewhere or Interpol gets me."

"You know Interpol will never get you, Dorian," Klaus said with some assurance.

"Of course, but we'll let them keep having the fun of trying, darling," came the laughed response.

"No -- NATO pulls strings for you, Dorian. They will *never* put you away. But I didn't tell you that."

And by that, he understood -- NATO pulled strings for him, all right, and mostly likely because of (or, God save him, in spite of) his darling major. "I never heard it," he promised with a smile, holding back a sudden wash of some decidedly sweet emotion as they finally rose to the level of the attics. "Well, darling? Which end shall we visit?"

"Which one have we not been in before?" Klaus asked, looking at the doors.

"Hmmm. The far left end, I think."

"Then that one." Klaus moved decisively towards it, expecting Dorian to follow. "You could do a lot with your knowledge of art and furniture, Dorian. A lot that doesn't include stealing."

Dorian shook his head, following even though Klaus expected him to do so. "But it wouldn't be half as fun, and I really *do* love art. A man who collects legally must be rich, darling, and do you really think that James would *allow* me to buy the extravagant things I like? No," he said, shaking his head. "He'd never let me have a sou if I didn't steal them all!"

"If James is such a trouble to you -- and he is -- why do you keep him?" Klaus asked pointedly.

"Because who else would have him?" Dorian pointed out. "He's not such a terrible creature, and, well..." Dorian shrugged as they tried the door. Locked. "Hmm..." He pulled a set of picks out of his pocket and clicked the tumblers over easily enough. "Well, it would just be cruel, wouldn't it? Besides, he really is very good at forcing me to stick to a budget..."

"You could have asked for the key," Klaus said, in a slightly wide-eyed dead pan as he watched Dorian slip away his lock-picks. "I think you're just fond of him as a pet."

"Well... perhaps." Though which one he meant by that was uncertain. "I can't seem to find the light, and there are curtains or something over the windows..."

"There's probably a reason why this room is locked, then," Klaus murmured. Once, his father had told him that he'd found a very old, mummified body in the attic. It was quite the discouragement from ever digging through them. "Move in slowly."

"I'm not going to see anything truly disturbing, am I, darling?" Dorian teased. "Maybe I should fetch a lantern or something."

"Disturbing? I've no idea. This room could be filled with naked pictures, and I wouldn't know..." Klaus had finally reached the wall of the small attic room, and was feeling along it until he found curtain -- a yank parted the curtains, bringing with it light, dust, and Klaus's cough.

"Speak of the devil," Dorian drawled.

In fact, the room had quite a lot of interesting things, but the most prominent of them all was a painting that looked most remarkably like Dorian draped in nothing but gauzy veils.

"I didn't do it, I *swear*!"

The hair was different, straighter, longer if it was possible -- but the face and eyes were the same, and Klaus was too shocked to look at anything but that. Worse, he couldn't believe that Dorian *didn't* do it.

"Yes, you *did*," Klaus growled deeply, a hand over his mouth and nose to keep out the dust until he'd recovered from the cough still trying to escape.

"I *swear*!" Dorian cried desperately, shaking his head, golden curls flying. "Klaus, the dust in here and on that thing is an inch thick! I COULDN'T have done it!"

"Yes you COULD have!" There was no other explanation -- none at all! Why would he have a picture of a Dorian look-alike in his house... Why would there be one at ALL?!

The heartbroken expression rising on Dorian's face was terrible to see, though it was quickly masked by something else, as things so often were with him. "Of course I could have," he said dully. "Why, I'm Eroica. Sorry. I had forgotten."

"Why would that be there?!" Klaus went on, backing up some -- intent on leaving!

"Maybe because he and Tyrian were lovers," Dorian said softly. "It's why I stopped reading the diary to you."

"The pirate?" Klaus questioned, not looking at Dorian or the picture -- rather, something in between, far behind both. "Don't get ideas from this. Just because Tyrian was a sick pervert..."

"Doesn't mean you will be," Eroica finished for him. "I think I don't want to look any more today. I think I can't do this, here, today. I..." He stopped, turning sharply and heading out into the hall, looking for the stairs. "I can't," he whispered to himself, "I can't, I can't..."

"Dorian..." Klaus half-followed the other man -- half. He couldn't bring himself to do more than walk out of the room after him.

At the head of the stairs, the tall blond was paused, looking down and not truly seeing anything, his entire body tensed as if having some terrible inner skirmish that couldn't be retained. Finally, he turned, though, coming back towards the German man, pale and shaking slightly. "Let's shut the door," he said simply. "Maybe another room, today."

"Another room," Klaus agreed quietly, moving to close that door. He *hadn't* meant to upset Dorian, but the picture had certainly upset *him*...

Quietly, Dorian moved forward to shut the door, glancing within one more time. "I'll... shut the curtains," he said solemnly. "Just a moment."

No wonder he'd found no lights; the room looked as if it had been undisturbed for centuries, the portrait undoubtedly going to slow ruin beneath all of that dust, a shame for something so lovely, a Holbein if he wasn't mistaken. Almost as bad were the velvet curtains gone to tatters, a miracle they'd kept out any sunlight at all, and the exquisite furniture, right down to the rose-carved canopy bed that sprawled against the wall to the right -- a lover's bed, that, he had no doubts in his mind. /A place meant for pleasure and adoration,/ he thought sadly, twitching the curtains closed.

A moment was taken to accustom his eyes to the darkness and then it was easier to walk back to the hallway, towards the light, than it had been to walk into the darkness. Quietly, he shut the door behind him, knowing he'd be hard-put to smile at all later, but trying desperately for Klaus. What he wouldn't do for that man! "Maybe the one on the other end," he said simply, tucking hair back behind his ear in an attempt to belie trembling lips.

"We've been there before, but it would not kill to look again. That was where we were when we first tried, wasn't it?"

"Mmm," Dorian said in agreement, tucking his hands in his pockets. "We can look through the rest, maybe."

Klaus stayed silent, and he keyed open that door for Dorian, looking at the man for a moment before he moved out of the doorway. "I didn't mean to accuse you, Dorian."

"...I know." It was said softly, tiredly. "It's only automatic, and that's... that's my own fault, not one of yours."

"I'll help you move things if you see something you want to get to," Klaus offered gently as they did move into the room.

"Thank you," Dorian said softly as they moved into the room. "Thank you..."

~~~~~

Tiredly, Dorian dropped down into Klaus's bed, eyes closing. God, it was good to be taking a nap, especially with Klaus gone downstairs, especially after the shock of seeing Benidict. He'd known, of course, that Tyrian had been lovers with the man and that his description of Benidict was incredibly similar to Dorian, but...

Well. He hadn't been prepared for *that*. Who could have been?

So, it seemed that at some point in existence and time itself, there had been another Klaus and Dorian. Only, that one had ended terribly tragically, while this one had never started. Benidict had killed Tyrian... not that Dorian couldn't understand that, in some ways. After all, he had occasionally been very tempted to do in his darling Major, and that made him laugh a little. "Such creatures of habit are we," he whispered, reaching for the diary and opening it to a particularly favorite entry of his.

Tyrian had been a creative lover to Benidict -- used toys on him, odd objects to stimulate. Once, he'd invited in the household staff to watch him and Benidict have sex, and clean the mess as it happened. He was the opposite of the Major in that -- an exhibitionist who reveled in his own body, rather than hid it, and Benidict had been so very like himself...

With a sigh, Dorian laid the book down, closing his eyes, unable to do anything for the moment other than think of Klaus, doing that with him, to him, touching him, adoring him... but never, ever, ever leaving him, or breaking his heart, as Tyrian had done to Benidict in the end.

That, perhaps, had been one of the reasons why Benidict killed him, though there were so many reasons. Tyrian loved sex, reveled in it and the power it gave him over others, and had done it with so many, men and women... And he'd taken on a new male lover by the time Benidict had caught him again, on his prized ship, a crew-member. Was history repeating itself with the same players, only giving them different personalities...?

It was a fascinating thought, really, and one that made him yearn for just a moment to be held in that control, if it was Klaus's. Still... There *was* something of that power in the room with him, and even if it was only afternoon, Dorian didn't think he could deny the sheer *potency* of the thing any longer. He'd fought for weeks, ever since they'd first seen it, and a shiver raced through him at the thought of using it, and in Klaus's bed! /He'd kill me,/ he thought, shivering. /He would.../ Ah, but he'd cleaned the thing, all the same, carefully wrapped it in new velvet and dreamed of it and Klaus, or perhaps Tyrian and himself as Benidict, so many nights! In the end, perhaps, just perhaps... it would make him feel better, just a little...

Ah, it was all rationalization, but he didn't care, not really! All he wanted, all it seemed he'd ever been meant to have, were the hands of his beloved on him, touching him, tender the way he knew Klaus could be or rough the way he'd been *shown* he could be... shown a few times too often for his taste. Lately, though, he'd had his hair brushed out a few times by the man, touch gentle and soothing without knowing it...

To think, that the object in his hands had been used centuries before on his ancestor, by Klaus's!

The mere notion sent a thrill spilling down his spine, a whimper from deep in his throat as he pulled lightly at the wrap-around shirt he'd worn, fingers carelessly fumbling with the buttons of his pants to slide them free, to get his clothing off of him. He stood, momentarily, golden sunlight breaking through the rainy-day clouds for an instant, long enough to highlight every inch of him as it was bared before it disappeared again, leaving him naked in the gloom to crawl between the sheets of Klaus's bed and kick them almost down to the foot.

The thing he held in his hands was wonderful -- an object of ardour, made for loving someone with. Such a terrible pity that it had lain untouched by tender hands for so long!

With a sigh, Dorian turned on his back, skimming cool ivory down over his skin, belly arching up to it. Just imagining it, the conceivable touch of Klaus's hand, was enough for him with his eyes closed. When he wasn't looking, he could imagine that it was Klaus's hand holding the thing and not his own, Klaus touching him so tenderly, Klaus's fingers upon which he sucked and not his own. /God save me,/ he thought, drawing in a deep breath to give a slow moan. /I don't even have the self-preservation not to do this, in the end. Maybe I am as crazy as he thinks.../

Still, if he was, did it change things at all? Klaus still would never be his, and the touch of an ancestor's toy was far better than the nothingness he had now! That decision made him sigh and curl onto his side, pillow pulled down to support his face as the ancient object was carefully laid aside, his own hands on his skin, caressing slowly over hip and thigh, tracing up the back of one so that fingers teased lightly at a cheek, delicately avoiding the temptation of sliding one inside as he brought them around, instead, cupping his erection with ethereal touch as he groaned, unable to help himself. Ah, God, it felt so good, so perfect, so *right*, to be in Klaus's bed and to do this, thinking of him!

If the world was a just and good place, someday, it would be Klaus's fingers on him like that, teasing and touching, trying to coax from his body riotous reactions and softly groaned sighs. His cock would be inside of Dorian, buried within him, possessing him thoroughly. With a quiet cry, Dorian's fingers closed around his burgeoning flesh, others sliding slowly between slender thighs, touching delicate skin, teasing their way back to the opening there. So long since he'd had someone else touch him that way, so long since he'd taken more than his fingers as he thought about Klaus and sobbed in his own bed, and now he was here, and there was this, and how could he resist? He was in the Major's bed, where the man slept when he wasn't on a mission, not on duty in Bonn... here he'd probably slept since he was a child. This, the bed, the walls, the room, all screamed 'Klaus' at him, and he could in no way resist for so much as another moment, sobbing softly into the pillows as a single dry finger plunged inside, seeking and finding pleasure deep inside for a moment. His entire body seemed to be rocked from that simple and almost painful touch, and he groaned aloud, arching slightly before reluctantly pulling his hand away and reaching for the lotion he'd lain down on the bed.

He was ready -- well, not enough to be utterly comfortable, but enough to not feel a terrible pain. As long as he slicked the ivory toy well with the lotion... and didn't open his eyes, keeping the illusion of it being Klaus....

Eroica shifted, turning completely on his side, a foot propped on the bed, the other sprawled open, knee upon the sheet, as he teased himself with the tip, trembling and gasping slightly. It was cool, but not so much as to be uncomfortable, and when it broached the delicately resisting ring beneath the pressure of his fingers, he cried out, shuddering as it slipped inside. "Klaus," he whimpered, unable to stop the word from falling from his lips as he rocked his erection against his arm, other hand moving to stroke it even as the dildo slid in deep, brushing prostate firmly and nearly driving him mad. "Ohhhh, God!"

It felt good -- so good that those motions, repeated over and over, distracted him from paying attention to anything beyond the touch of that toy, the smell of the sheets. Certainly he didn't notice the opening of the door, excited as he was, golden hair a shroud, curls beginning to corkscrew with sweat as he whimpered, thrusting into his hand and back to the instrument his palm drove firmly into him, and only one word was on his lips, one word in his mind. "Klaus... Klaus... OH!!!"

Klaus had come upstairs from his own nap to find his pain medication -- it hadn't been in the room Dorian had told him he was staying in (and neither had Dorian been). So he decided to see if it was in his own room, and now found this sight before him.

"Lord Gloria," he bit out, not sure why he was saying anything at all, or how it passed his lips -- the thief... was... doing something terribly obscene on his bed, moaning his name... And God help Klaus if it didn't look alluring.

The sound of that voice was enough to drive him over the edge, though his eyes flashed open momentarily in pure shock before orgasm hit, body tensing as he came, curling into himself from the sheer joy of it, little sounds of pleasure and gasping breaths coming from him as he shuddered, sobbing softly once he realized Klaus had seen him, pleasant euphoria tattering quickly. /Oh, God, oh, God, what do I do?/

Klaus had not just seen him -- he had watched, and was still standing there as if frozen in purest shock. When he did manage to move, it was to that horrible feeling of having trouble breathing that lingered until he gave in to the cough, still looking at Dorian in unadulterated surprise -- what would he do? Yell? Hit? Ask for a reason, an explanation?!

"I can explain," Dorian finally whispered even though there wasn't any explanation, not even the vague hope of one, fighting back tears. God, Klaus was going to kill him!! He just knew it!

More coughing, as if his body were rebelling against the thought of hitting Dorian, and he slid to the floor, back against the doorjamb, so low that he couldn't see past the bedside table, or see Dorian. Thankfully. So wanton, on *his* bed!! "I don't think... that you... can..."

"I don't think I can, either," Dorian admitted in a whisper. "Klaus... I... I... please..."

"You... you lied when you said you were sleeping in your room. *This* is why you didn't move downstairs. You've been doing this all along, haven't you?" And he'd trusted the thief... "'m leaving. I can't..." He was going for a walk, in the garden. Anywhere. Rising to his feet with a bit of trouble, Klaus took a quick glance at his bed and the rumpled pile of Dorian and long blond hair, sweaty limbs and semen splattered on the sheets and his body. "Get the butler to change the sheets." Every ounce of betrayal Dorian had ever heard in Klaus's voice, over the years, was somehow compacted into that short sentence, as the man took off down the hall...

..leaving Eroica quietly sobbing into the pillows, regretting desperately that single terrible indiscretion...

~~~~~

When Klaus came back from his brisk walk -- a bit too brisk for his lung's comfort -- he went up the flights of stairs, and knocked -- God, he had to knock now! -- on his bedroom door.

The voice that answered was faint, barely heard. "Come in."

It cracked open at first, then Klaus stepped in. "Lord Gloria..." Calling him Dorian just then felt... too intimate.

"Yes..." The sound of Dorian's glorious voice was still faint, though Klaus was grateful to find that he was dressed, dark slacks and a long-sleeved dark blue shirt, unimaginably plain and normal. His hair was pulled back roughly, braided to keep it out of his way, and his face was so pale it seemed a miracle that he could stand, looking as he did. Ghosts might have been paler, but not by much. "I'm packed," he announced solemnly. "You don't have to throw me out, Major Eberbach. I would l..." He paused, swallowing hard. "I would like to most sincerely apologize for m..y indiscretion."

"For being a... the... der Scwule?" Klaus said at last, having grasped for what to say. God, but he needed advice on what to say, or how to say it... "Are you leaving...?"

"You were going to kick me out, anyway, weren't you?" Dorian asked, and he knew it sounded pitiful, and worse, he couldn't help the tears that welled up, spilling over and making him hate himself even more.

"I..." He stalled, and then moved forward, demanding sharply, "Don't cry!"

"I can't help it!" Dorian whispered shakily. "I told myself I wouldn't. I said it was stupid, and you'd only hate me worse for doing it, not that you *could* hate me much worse right now, and I still can't help it!"

"Dammit!" he snapped suddenly, pulling Dorian close by grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Don't cry!"

It had gotten free, though, and despite the hands so hard on him, despite the fact that Klaus was probably going to hit him again, he found that he didn't care, couldn't care for the force of the silent heaves of breath, the sheer concentration it took not to sob aloud as those tears streaked down his face and he trembled in the other man's grasp.

Klaus couldn't do it. He *wanted* to hit the thief, wanted to stop those tears, to erase from his mind's eye how the thief looked sprawled on his bed, fucking himself with that terribly old thing from the attic. And he wanted to get rid of Dorian, because something told him that if he were to send the thief away now, he'd leave forever! Or, did he even want him to leave at all? The companionship of the past few weeks was something Klaus had needed, wanted and enjoyed...

But none of those thoughts, for or against the thief, registered in Klaus's mind as he gave up the bruising grasp of Dorian, and simply held him. One arm around the man's shoulder, the other hand at the back of his head, and Klaus swore to himself quickly that if the thief tried to pet him up, he *would* kill the man. But how ever quickly a touch to kill could turn to one of comfort... "Don't cry."

The trembling that rocked against him was so fine, the stifled sounds coming from the other man absolutely hurting Klaus himself. For all that Eroica was... was gay, he was a man. He didn't cry. Even when scared nearly to death, he held himself together, and now, to feel those heartbroken little shudders of shame and perhaps even fear as he wept, arms caught carefully between himself and Klaus and not moving.... it was terrible. "S-s-sorry," Eroica hiccoughed. "I-I'm s-so s-s-s-SORRY!" How could he explain, that he'd only wanted to be close to Klaus, that he'd only wanted just that little bit of time where they were happy and to imagine himself held, loved, close in that bed that belonged to the man he loved easily as much as he'd ever loved anything in his life. Ah, he couldn't, and that made him sob all the harder, detesting himself for it, even though the feel of Klaus's hands turned gentle on him was a wonder, a miracle. "P-p-p-please..."

"Don't cry, Dorian," Klaus stressed again -- that fact, the knowledge that Dorian had held up so well under so much, to crumble at THIS...?! "Don't... just don't." The please was implied, but unsaid as he continued to hold the man, still not moving away or closer. Dorian's forearms were pressed against his aching chest, perhaps a little too hard for comfort, but so be it. "It... will be okay."

"It won't!" An absolutely choking sob broke from the other man as he shook desperately. "I sh-sh-shouldn't have d-d-done it! I n-n-knew, an-and I did it anyway! I n-n-knew you c-c-couldn't e-ever want mmmmme, a-and Iiii n-n-knew that I-i ha~ad to be c-careful, but I c-couldn't, c-couldn't, ssssstop it!" he wept, shaking his head frantically. "A-and I've b-b-been so *SCARED*!!!" His arms came up, finally, wrapping tightly around Klaus's neck, Dorian's face buried in his throat, "And I was so afraid that you would *DIE*!!"

Oh, God. It was too close now, too much of the crying, too much of Dorian, if that were possible...

"Die? No. I won't die," Klaus told him firmly, torn between trying to hold Dorian closer, and shoving him away. It forced his muscles into a state of non-movement, the war between his super-ego -- which was telling him that Dorian was a sinner, wrong and harmful to the world -- and his id -- which was telling him that he wanted to do so much more to the thief than simply hold him. After years of fighting, his id was starting to gain strength... "Calm down, before you make yourself sick..."

Trying desperately to get hold of himself, Dorian whispered wetly, "I can't help it. I'd die if you did, or if you sent me away forever. I... I'd just die... it would be the worst most horrible thing in the world..." And God, he knew he was opening himself up to the most intense suffering possible, but he couldn't stop it, couldn't not say it!! "I'd die without you..."

"Shhh..." He'd thought for the longest time, that the thief had been joking about his long-professed love. This seemed to only help his case... "I... I don't hate you, Dorian. I... just don't know what it is, or what to do..."

"Anything!" Dorian declared fantastically, shaking his head beneath Klaus's chin before moving, shifting, looking up at him, just a bit. "Anything, only please, *please*, don't send me away. Please!" God, he hated begging, but if it was what it took.... Tears spilled wetly again from those aquamarine eyes, and thank God Dorian was the sort of person who could cry as beautifully as he did everything else! No splotches of color, no red nose, only dazzlingly wet pink-rimmed eyes and a sniffle that was undeniable.

Unable to stop himself, Klaus brought a hand up to Dorian's cheek, touching the dampness there. "I won't."

The almost visible relief was achingly painful to see, trembling lips curving up in sheer unadulterated gratefulness. "Thank you," he whispered, eyes closing slowly. "Oh..."

"You need to calm down," Klaus whispered quietly. "And I need my medications."

Those dazzling eyes flew open again, suddenly guilty. "I'll find them!" he said hurriedly, sniffling. "I will, I, I think I've left them with your butler now, since... since..."

"You're not leaving before I do, Dorian -- not before I return to work," Klaus said firmly.

"Of course," Dorian agreed, looking at him wistfully. "Nowhere. I promise."

Well. Awkward had gone far beyond, and so Klaus took a step backwards, letting Dorian go. But he still didn't know what to say...

"I'm very sorry," Dorian said quietly, sadly. "I didn't think... ah. Well."

"Not..." He swallowed, looking around his room, decorated with weaponry, a few old antiques, books, a desk with a few personal effects, long untouched, scattered on them. Klaus knew he'd never again be able to lay on his bed and not think of Dorian writhing in pleasure on it. He started to move towards the door. "Don't come in here again."

"Of course." The shame on that face was almost unbearable -- Dorian, who'd never been ashamed of anything that Klaus had seen! "Of course."

Klaus led the way into the hallway, waiting for Dorian. "I..." He was *trying* to say something, God help him, but he wasn't sure what, or how!

"You don't have to say anything," Dorian told him, bags firmly in his hands. "Really. You don't. I... I understand, or at least, I have to, don't I? I made a stupid, terrible mistake and it's all ruined for you now, isn't it? I ruined everything for you..."

"I... don't know what you've ruined."

"Your being comfortable with me. Your thinking of me as something other than some fucking *faggot*, useless until you need me to steal something," was the soft, miserable reply. "It's all my own fault. I know."

Maybe Dorian did understand the picture he had imbedded in his mind, then. "You are... still the same person you have been for the past few weeks."

"Yes," the Earl of Gloria said slowly. "I'm the same person I've been always, Major. There's nothing false about that..."

"I... just finally stopped thinking of you... that way, and..." Then it was shoved right in his face again, worse than before, and he just didn't know what to *do*. Dorian wanted him, badly, but was now keeping it to himself, doing strange perverted things while alone...

Eroica finished the sentence. "And now you've seen something you wish you hadn't," he murmured, trembling again, now, as they stood in the hall, looking at one another. "I'm so sorry..." And he was, but the worst part was that he was only sorry that Klaus had caught him and not at all sorry that he had done it!

Klaus was perfectly still for a long moment, and then shifted away, towards the other stairwell to downstairs. The other wing of the castle. "I need... to think. I'll be in the gun room, if you need me... and don't leave, Dorian."

"Wait!" Dorian said quickly, sudden horrified visions of Klaus, upset, blowing his brains out and only being found later when Dorian went to look for him. "Wait..!" And, oh, God, why was he saying wait? What excuse could he give?

The other man was already taking quick strides off down the hallway, but stopped. "What's wrong?"

"I..." He searched for words quickly, cursing himself. He always knew what to say, always *had* something to say, so why not now?? In a burst of inspiration he said softly, "Let's go out somewhere. Let's go see something or eat somewhere. Let's just get out of here! Just for a while!"

"Go where?" Klaus asked, looking confused. "I... Dorian, I'm tired. I don't truthfully think I could manage to go out tonight."

"Just somewhere. Anywhere, some cheap roadside place, even, but not the gun room, all right?" Dorian pleaded, expression helpless. He didn't want him there alone or otherwise! God help him, Klaus might shoot him and *then* himself, considering how the day was going! "Or we can demand a picnic and go upstairs to the attic room with the Turner and... and eat there, maybe..."

For a moment, it looked as if Klaus were going to press the topic -- *why* not go in and clean guns...? It was enjoyable, calming, and would get him away from Dorian long enough to clear his mind a little! In the end, though, he acquiesced a little. "We'll eat in the library, then."

"That sounds wonderful," Dorian sighed, relieved. "I'll just... put these somewhere," he said, nudging his bags. "Next door or something, and then we'll go to the kitchen..." He began pushing his bags along the hall.

"*Downstairs*, as I have been trying to get you to do for two weeks," he was told, a bit stiffly.

"O...of course," was the reply, that shamed expression back again as he gripped the cases more tightly, face momentarily turned away.

At least downstairs, the only place Dorian could masturbate would be the bathroom... which was a slightly disturbing thought that was quickly pushed away. "I have a few phones calls to make -- do you want to help with dinner?"

"Sure," Dorian agreed quietly. At that particular moment, in that particular time, he'd agree to almost anything Klaus wanted except for being alone. "You won't be long?" he asked, almost not wanting to do so. God, he wanted to stay, and at the same time, he wanted to turn around and run forever, run until he could get home and lock the door to his own bedroom and never, ever come out of it again!

"I'll make the calls in the kitchen. I've been meaning to call my father," Klaus murmured, waiting for Dorian to catch up with his quick, long-legged stride.

If anyone had seen it, it would have looked like scurrying, though Eroica would *never* admit to doing such a thing!! "Ohh, that's even better," he said with a sigh, afraid to call Klaus the usual 'darling'. He was prone to calling everyone that, but he only truly meant it for Klaus. "We can both decide what to eat, then..."

"See what's already been made up," Klaus agreed as they went down the stairs. His chest was hurting terribly by now, and he wanted his medications, but that could wait a bit longer.

"Klaus..." Dorian bit his lower lip, reaching up to shove an errant curl back into his braid. "Are you very angry with me?"

"I'm confused, Dorian. I'm not angry at you, though." He was certainly angry at himself -- being angry at Dorian for being a horny faggot was like being angry at a cat for meowing. Cats meowed, and Dorian was a horny queer.

"Oh." That seemed to more or less kill the conversation, so they continued down the stairs where Dorian left his luggage at the foot and from there, on to the kitchen.

It was still not very late -- only early evening -- and a few members of the staff were still there and fixing supper for them, carefully avoiding mention of the racket so recently come from upstairs. "Oh, lovely," Dorian said, though his animated face was still blank, an unusual state of being. "We'll have it hot."

"When you've finished, you can leave for the day," Klaus dismissed, in a kind sort of way for him, as he moved towards the telephone to dial two numbers -- his father first, then Z.

Every last one of them looked at Klaus, looked at one another, and promptly decided that the world was coming to an end, their expressions almost enough to make Dorian laugh, and he did smile a little, seating himself at a table and watching what was going on around him. "Oh!" he said, remembering. "If someone could get the butler to bring the Major's meds, that would be good, too!"

Well, that was more like it! An order! One of the women rushed off to find the old man, and the place fell fairly quiet while Klaus dialed the first number. "Colonel Eberbach. Ja. Der Stammhalter..." From there, the conversation moved too quickly and too fast for Dorian to follow, even with the German he'd learned solely for Klaus's sake. Still, he managed to keep himself busy momentarily by idly telling the kitchen workers what they might like -- including dessert! Klaus, of course, never ate any such thing, but there was still a chocolate cake rather conspicuously on the table. Dorian was fond of chocolate cake in all of its various glories, and the staff had very quickly understood that and provided it for him. Klaus wasn't a man to eat sweets, though. He didn't see the sense of it, of indulging like that. Once in a while... every few years, he bothered. Drinking was a better indulgence.

The sound of his conversation went on for some time, and Dorian watched him wistfully as it did. God, how he'd humiliated himself earlier! He sighed, wondering momentarily how he could live with it... and how Klaus could. Finally, he hung up the phone -- looked bitterly exhausted -- and then picked it up to dial again. One call down, one to go! Again, there was that sharp, fast German, and Dorian wished longingly that he was better at it; catching only every third word in a conversation was no fun at all, but he was glad when Klaus finally hung up, even though he looked tired. The butler came in at that moment with his medication in hand. "Let's go eat," he said lightly. "So you can take your medicine."

"All right. Z says that when I return, there's a mission waiting. Nothing strenuous, but... You'll be needed, too," Klaus told him as he walked towards the thief.

"So soon?" Eroica asked, frowning slightly. "I don't mind going for myself, after all, I'm mostly well, but Klaus..."

"I'll be fine," Klaus told him firmly, though he didn't feel so firm about it. Still, a mission was a mission... "We're breaking in the safe and house of a possible Soviet contact in Paris."

"Ahh, France again," Dorian sighed. "You know, I love France. So much history and culture and beautiful art, and so *romantic*, really. It's a beautiful place."

"So much to steal," Klaus sighed, shaking his head as he started off into the library.

"We~ell," Dorian drawled, grasping the rather large tray that had been set up for them and following him. "There *is* that part."

"Don't tell me what you steal, show me what you steal, try to hide on my person something you've stolen, or try to hide on one of my men something you've stolen," Klaus warned, his usual perfunctory warning.

Those words put them back on their old ground entirely, and Dorian almost burst into tears again just then. Instead he said lightly, "You're such a fuddy-duddy, darling, really! Tell you what, I'll agree to not mention whatever I've stolen, all right?"

"That would make me very happy, Dorian," Klaus told him as he entered the library -- there were two widely spaced apart leather chairs, and then a sofa with a table in front of it -- Klaus moved towards that.

"Well, you know how I am, darling. I just love to make you happy in these little ways!" Dorian burbled before saying thoughtfully, "I'll try not to steal the Pope or something like this go 'round. I'm afraid that's a heist that just can't be pulled off properly more than once. Perhaps some minor cardinal instead! Wasn't there the avignon group there..."

"If you can convince me he's one of your men passed out, that's fine," Klaus told him with a sigh, settling back on the sofa, almost comfortably. "Sit down!"

Quietly, Dorian sat down beside him, settling the tray on the table and beginning to sort through things. "Supper looks to be marvelous, da...Major." Darling somehow didn't seem the right thing to say just then!

"My staff is quite good at what they do," Klaus agreed as he picked up the glass of water provided for him.

Easily enough, Dorian gave Klaus a plate of venison, potatoes, peas and freshly cut tomato. "Here you are, and your medicine with it," he was informed firmly before the blond moved to pour tea, ceaselessly waiting on him much as he had since the beginning.

"Thank you." It didn't seem to phase Klaus, thought it might have partly been because he was tired. Talking with his father always did that to him...

"Did your conversations go well?" Dorian asked pleasantly enough, settling back with his own plate.

"The Alphabets are doing well, if restless, and my father is making another attempt at trying to get me married. She'll be arriving day after tomorrow, and finding herself leaving just as quickly."

A cup clattered to the floor, shattering, Dorian white as a sheet as he laid his plate back down and began picking up the pieces. "Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry..."

There was *definitely* a relation between what he'd said, and Dorian's reaction -- Klaus moved off of the sofa to help. "We're breaking glasses left and right, you and I.... What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Dorian denied, though it was a lie. "Just clumsy tonight. It's been a really awful day, you know?"

"Yes." A quick agreement, almost *too* quick for Dorian's comfort. "But do not lie to me, Dorian."

Silently, the Briton leaned back, pieces of the cup held in his palm, eyes lowered, voice impossibly soft. "It really is nothing, or it shouldn't be. I mean, it's not as if I mean anything to you at all, and I know that, I realize that, just, just, the thought, of that, of you and..." Here, he paused, shuddering. "A woman... well, no, not just a woman. The thought of you and anyone who isn't *me*..." He trailed off. "You don't have to tell me I'm a stupid queer, darling, I already know, just perhaps I'm a bit too delicate today, you know."

"You do understand that these shrews my father sends are turned away at the door," Klaus told Dorian, but who knew *why* he was telling the thief. If anything, it might encourage the man...

"Still," Dorian said sadly, "perhaps one day, one of them won't be, and then..." And then, he'd just very well slit his own wrists, he supposed. Well, no, he had too much self-preservation in him for that. Perhaps then he'd just get reckless and get killed or caught. Perhaps then prison sex would have a strange appeal or something, who knew?

Klaus took the broken pieces of glass from the thief's hands. "I can't stand women."

"Well, you can't stand me, either, darling," Dorian replied, letting the pieces go, "and one day, one or the other will have to give, and I'm fully aware of which one it won't be. That's not to say that I'll leave you alone for even a moment until it does!" he said, nodding. "But it will, and then..."

For a moment, Klaus was looking at him with a deer-in-the-headlights look of a man who was hit with a dawning realization. "No -- being with a woman makes me nauseous. You don't."

The sheer jolt of hope that gave Dorian seemed to come straight up from his lower belly and into his throat. "Really?" It was barely a whisper, soft, tentative, almost not there at all, and those eyes looked at him, pleaded with him. "Really?"

Klaus seemed to jolt to his feet, startled by those pleading eyes and his own realization, startling as it was to him, after so many years... /I.... am, I can't stand them in that way... I.../ "R-Really."

"Klaus..." Dorian was up with him, gaze shadowed, uncertain, needing and oh, so very close! "I... do you..."

"I've never thought... of it that way, realized..." His English was starting to thicken, accent taking over his voice more than words as he took a step backwards. "I should have realized..."

The tall blond took a step forward to match it. "Darling, it's all right," he soothed, hand going out tentatively. "It's all right..."

"No... no, it isn't. I... so many years..." That was said with a startling lucidity, and he moved towards the door, stopping only long enough to toss those shards into the waste-basket by the door, nearly running.

"Klaus!!" God, he didn't need to be running like that while still injured, and Dorian was off after him, almost as fast. "Klaus, stop, you can't, you *shouldn't*!" Even injured, Klaus was still *fast*, long legs eating up the marble floor, and then he was out the side door, and into the garden -- where he could take any number of paths unseen by Dorian, because the thief was so many steps behind him. "Dammit!" Dorian whispered, pausing as the rain began to pound down, obscuring all sound and making it impossible to see where Klaus had gone. "Damn, damn, damn!!"

Choosing a path at random, Dorian jogged down slowly, the gathering dark and the pounding rain making it difficult to see very far, but he knew what he was looking for. Klaus's staid white button-up shirt would at least gleam out to him in the dark, he decided, and that was a great help, in the end. After almost fifteen minutes of wandering the paths, he saw it -- that almost-spark of white, and he followed it slowly, hoping Klaus wouldn't bolt again.

Klaus heard Dorian approaching, but didn't run. Not this time -- he'd had time to think for himself, alone and in a quiet setting, and it had helped. Some. He was perched under a little canopied trellis that flowers stretched out over and on top of, directly across from a small fountain. It was dead center for three other paths, so Dorian would have found him eventually. He'd undone the first two buttons of his shirt, letting the angled, cool rain chill him a little, one leg pulled lazily up to his chest. It was helping him catch his elusive breath again.

"Klaus..." Dorian said quietly as he approached. "I'm sorry. I know how upsetting saying -- no, *feeling* -- these things must be for you, but it's wet and cold, and you've been ill. Please... come inside and get dry and we'll talk about it, or not talk about it, or whatever you want..."

"Temperature is all a matter of perception. One can learn to be oblivious to it," Klaus dismissed quietly, not looking away from the fountain yet.

"Perhaps," Dorian agreed solemnly, leaning against one of the firm stone columns that made up the canopy. "I sometimes think so. One's perceptions rule one's world."

Just from the way Klaus was sitting and holding himself, he was obviously having trouble breathing. But he was stubborn to the end... "It certainly has."

"Let's go inside," Dorian tried again. "I'll make you some tea. I'm sure there's bound to be some chamomile somewhere..."

"We still haven't eaten supper," Klaus pointed out, still not looking away from the fountain yet. "I... I don't know what to do, Dorian."

The blond's face softened, expression gentle as he knelt down in the mud, not caring that his pants would be ruined. "Darling, we'll talk about it. You don't have to make an all or nothing decision. Nothing in life is ever that way. And you have all the time in the world to take this slowly and decide if what you feel is what you think it is. I will *never* pressure you to say or do anything you don't want to do. All right? We'll talk about it. Believe it or not, I *do* understand a great deal of what you're feeling."

"You've at least been intelligent enough to have realized it before you got as old as I am." He still wasn't budging, though he finally closed his eyes.

"I didn't have much of a choice, darling," Dorian told him. "I guess you could even say it grew on me. My life and yours, though, have been very different. If I hadn't... well, if my life had been less eccentric, then I might not have ever realized it at all."

It was then, as Klaus wiped rain from his face, just his eyes and cheeks, that Dorian realized there may have been a reason why the stiff-backed major sought refuge in the rain. Hard-falling rain could hide much in the mingling of fresh and salt water. "I'm a failure socially."

A hand reached out tenderly, cupping Klaus's cheek. "No," he said softly, "you're the most wonderful and deeply caring person I've ever known. Your Alphabets respect you. I love you. My men, God love them, also care for you... well," he paused thoughtfully, "except perhaps for James, darling. You're not a failure. You've never been a failure at anything, not to me."

"They're scared of me. The Alphabets *fear* me, not respect me. My father told me today that I'm a sociopath. My *father*." His eyes were closed still, and Dorian watched him swallow, pushing back some dark emotion. "I could die tomorrow and my funeral would have five people there -- you, Z, A, Bonham, and the Chief to make sure I was really dead."

Gently, Dorian leaned forward, tugging him close. "Darling," he whispered, voice slightly hoarse, "if you died tomorrow, half of NATO would show up to give respect to the only man who could possibly accomplish everything you have. You think they don't promote you simply from dislike? How could they promote the very best field agent they've ever had? And together, darling, we're invincible. You're wrong about this," he told Klaus, "and your father..." He paused, wrenching back words that shouldn't be said in case they couldn't be taken back. "Your father is also very, very wrong."

"I can't read minds. Everyone seems to be told these things but me..." Left out of the loop, like an overly respected Elder who was just assumed to know everything. But he *didn't*! Dorian, close as he was, could feel Klaus tremble a little, though if it was the cold, sickness, or... something else, altogether, he couldn't tell. Klaus just stayed quietly slumped against him, not embracing, not doing anything at all but staying so very still, despite the shaking.

"Come inside, darling," Dorian urged again. "Please."

"I'd rather remain out here."

With a soft sigh, Dorian admitted defeat. "Would you be offended if I fetched a rain slicker and umbrella for you, darling?"

"Just a moment longer. Then I'll come in," Klaus promised, swallowing again, and opening his eyes at last, sitting back a little from Dorian so he could wipe at his face again.

Looking up at him, Eroica gave him a sad little smile. "My poor darling," he said gently. "It will be all right."

"No, it won't be." He'd wasted so much opportunity, irrevocably ruined certain things, made his men fear him, lashed out at Dorian again and again... all because he was scared of the truth.

Dorian's head tilted to the side as he looked at him in silence, knowing that nothing could soothe him right now, only wanting to be there when he was wanted.

Klaus finally stood with some effort, chest visibly heaving to draw in breath as he did so, pushing strands of wet hair back out of his eyes. "Let's go back."

They walked back in silence, shoulder to shoulder companionably, and Dorian fought off a strange glee that battled with his worry over Klaus. It was only natural, he supposed, that he should be so very strangely... well, perhaps content was the word. Yes, content, and almost unbelievably happy despite his beloved's misery. It was the strangest thing imaginable, and he didn't quite know what to do, so he squashed it down, tamping it firmly into smoldering coals of happiness before they went back inside.

"Let's get you into something dry," he said calmly as they trudged down the hallway. "You can take your meds and have a warm shower."

They were both soaked, and Klaus was finally feeling hunger, too. "I'll shower first. You, too, need to wash up." After all, Dorian was, if anything, dirtier and wetter than he was himself.

"I'll just run upstairs and shower," Dorian told him. "Here. Go in and start getting dry, darling. I'll bring you a cup of tea and some medicine and go upstairs straightaway."

"Thank you," Klaus murmured, starting to move into the bathroom already, grabbing a towel to soak up the cold from his hair. It was only minutes later that a knock came lightly on the door, letting him know that Dorian was back.

"I've got your tea and meds," the muffled voice announced.

The pounding of the shower's water, though, was loud, and Klaus didn't answer at first. "Just leave them. I'll be out in a few minutes."

The door opened, and Dorian carefully placed the things in his hands down on the counter. He was going to be good, truly, he was, and the slight glimpse of gorgeous man in the fogging mirror was almost enough to make him not be good, but he managed. "I'm going to run up and shower. I'll be down quickly, all right?"

"All right." Muffled through the water, and Dorian saw a strange flicker of something metal in that fogging mirror.

"KLAUS!" he cried, turning quickly. "DON'T!"

"Fuck!" Sharply bit out, and the shower-panel door came half-open quickly, Klaus looking out with startled wide eyes, a straight-edged razor in one hand. "WHAT?!"

"GOD, no, it isn't that bed!" Dorian whispered frantically, face white. "Don't!!"

"Isn't what bad?!" Klaus snapped, leaning his torso out a bit more and turning his head to look at Dorian -- that was when the thief saw the bleeding cut on his other cheek.

"Oh, God," Dorian managed to get out, paling even farther from relief. "Oh, God..."

"What did you think I was doing?" The razor was tossed with a clatter onto the tile floor, and with a hiss, Klaus reached out for a hand towel to press against the side of his face, before slamming shut the shower door.

Unable to help himself, Dorian sank down onto the floor, pressing his head between his knees. /I'm not going to pass out. I'm not. Just because I thought Klaus was going to commit suicide is no reason to be a pussy./

The Major was made of stiffer, if much more unhappy, stuff than that! He showered for another five minutes, and then turned off the water, cursing quietly to himself in three languages before opening the shower door and stepping out, wet washcloth pressed to the side of his face. It *stung* and it was a deep cut; he'd have to put butterflies on it, and hope it didn't scar. Most didn't, thankfully.

He'd expected Dorian to be gone when he stepped out of the shower.

"Sorry," Dorian said, voice conveying quite a lot. "I won't look. Just..."

Quickly, Klaus wrapped a towel around his hips, *tightly*, before Dorian could even think of looking, and the tossed another over his shoulders to keep his hair from dripping on him. "What's wrong?"

"Other than the fact that you were standing in the shower with a straight razor in hand? Oh, nothing," Dorian said, still stunned. "God, I didn't know anyone shaved with those things anymore!"

"I use it occasionally," Klaus said dismissively, moving to the medicine cabinet to dig out the butterflies. He was feeling more clear-headed now than he'd felt before, at least.

"I was afraid for a minute there that you would... that you were going to..." He couldn't even *say* it, it was such a terrible thought!

"Kill myself?" There the box was -- right where it always was, on the left hand side. "The thought crossed my mind, but it would make too many people happy if I did that, and I can't have that."

"Devastated," Dorian corrected softly, "and it would have been my fault for not paying proper attention."

"You, perhaps. My father and the chief would have thrown a party and invited Misha and that fucking Arab." His tone was tightly bitter, but at least it had the old bite back into it -- not that nearly tearful voice that he'd used in the garden.

At that, Dorian had to laugh softly. "Darling, my grief would have been enough for all of them. I really think I'd die if you were gone," he said, sitting on the floor, grubby and drenched.

Silence for a moment from Klaus, as he put the two butterflies in place, and then moved back to Dorian, offering him a hand up off the floor. "Clean up."

Reaching up, Dorian took it, standing with his back firm against the bathroom wall. "All right," he said slowly, reaching up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. "I will."

Strangely, he saw a look in Klaus's eyes he'd seen before, one that he'd never been able to place -- first, an intense glance at him, then a dart away, as if he didn't want to be caught looking at what he was looking at. Still those fingers danced down from button to button until the shirt was gone, and then they went to work on the pants, stripping them off entirely as they fell to the floor, and Dorian had never been the sort of man to wear underwear. Now Klaus was blatantly avoiding looking at him, turned completely around, in fact, and toweling out his hair...

That didn't mean every inch of him wasn't reflected in the mirror, though, even as he stepped into the shower and slowly closed the glass door to turn on the water.

Klaus left in the meanwhile, moving back into the parlor to dress -- casually, for him, shirt sleeves rolled up, collar partly open -- and then into the library, to drink the tea and take his medications. Dinner was still there, as well, though it was cold by then, but it was worth eating. He was strangely hungry, and by the time that Dorian had come out wrapped in a towel, he was halfway through it.

"Sorry. I can't find my luggage," Dorian admitted.

Once more, the other man averted his eyes. "Check the parlor -- I think the butler put them in there."

"No sign," Dorian replied glumly. "I think they hid them, darling. Can I borrow something of yours?"

"It won't have lace," he assured Dorian. Come morning, when the staff returned, he'd just have to ask them where they moved the Earl's bags. "But yes."

"Is there an extra set of pajamas in the parlor?" Dorian asked. "No sense in borrowing real clothes..."

"Yes, I'm sure there is."

"I'll be back in a moment, darling," Klaus was told. "Cross my heart." And then Dorian was gone again, but he was quickly back dressed in striped pajamas that mostly fit him and was back once more. "There. I was quick," he said, settling down on the couch next to him and picking up his own plate. "You know, I'm starving?"

"It's cold," Klaus warned in a half-amused tone, though by now he was just finishing off his last bite. Calm. it was all a matter of staying calm, and pretending that nothing or next to nothing had changed. Otherwise, he was headed for a terrible jag of hysteria, and that was bad.

"Cold is all right," Dorian said, beginning to eat. "And there's chocolate cake, if you want it." Not that Klaus was partial to sweets, but...

"I hope you enjoy it." Klaus's finger twitched nervously for a moment as he sat back, reaching into his shirt pocket out of absent minded habit, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes which had been left there weeks before -- probably a shirt that had been packed for the mission. He didn't even realize what he was doing until after he had it between his lips, unable to find a lighter.

Dorian did, though, and he simply watched as he continued to eat, saying nothing, knowing there was no lighter nearby. "I most likely will," he said finally, finishing off his potatoes. Chocolate was, by nature, not a bad thing, but he wasn't going to try and push Klaus on anything anytime soon!

There was a reason why he didn't have a lighter. "*Verdammit.*" Almost casually, he first tossed across the room the cigarette that had been between his lips, perched there with such familiarity; then the pack sailed after it, smashing into a book case almost satisfactorily.

"I'm sorry, darling," Dorian apologized, almost as if it was his fault.

The man dragged his hand -- right, the one that often held a cigarette -- over his eyes and across his temple, frustrated. "I didn't even miss them until now."

"Do you know," Dorian said, abandoning supper and reaching for the cake, which had gone a little dry, but was not, by far, inedible, "what I did when I realized?" It was a gamble, but still, it was one he needed to take.

The cake was still better than anything James would buy.

"What?" Klaus asked, now leaning on that hand, anything at all, to keep those fingers from repeating motions that had been rote for decades.

"Bawled," Dorian confessed. "Threw an absolute fit, in fact. I was maybe thirteen and the girl next door had a crush on me. She kissed me and I nearly got sick."

He watched Klaus's mouth twitch into the famed and frightening half smile, half sneer. "I've been there. Too stupid to realize why."

"No," Dorian said. "It's not stupidity. It's the desire for things to be conforming, for everything in your life to fit into society's little niche. Klaus, darling, you've never really fit anyone's preconceived notions, I think. I know you. You've always been extraordinary in one way or another."

"I'm a sick fuck." He seemed to be quoting someone -- and not necessarily his father, since Klaus had been called lots of interesting things by lots of people, by everyone from Misha to his own men when his back was turned. "Extraordinary. You have poor taste, Dorian. Face that."

"NEVER when it comes to you," Dorian said fiercely. "NEVER. Besides, I have exquisite taste, thank you. If I didn't, I'd be buying velvet paintings of Elvis instead of stealing old Masters and antiques."

Oh, but he *did* have bad taste in one area, and Klaus had been itching to point it out for nearly fifteen years... he might as well do it now. "Dorian, even I keep my suits updated to the style of the time."

Dorian smiled slowly. "That's just what I like, darling. Besides, the late seventies were such a bad time for clothing, hm? Surely I can be forgiven for my extravagances, just a bit."

"Poor. Taste." He dragged his hand over his eyes again, sighing as he shifted on the sofa, restless. "Do you want a drink?" He couldn't have one, not with the medications he was on, and trouble breathing already, but he could certainly offer one to Dorian.

"Not really," Dorian said, finishing off the cake and taking his own medication -- just the antibiotic, and it was the last day he'd have to take that. "Unless you want me to have one, in which case, I will."

"No." Klaus had a terribly lost look about him, half-detached from the world for fear of being swept away just then. Had it been on a mission that Dorian saw that look, he would have feared imminent death at the hands of a higher being, or seeing Klaus have a complete nervous break-down. Now, however...

"Darling, it really will be all right," Dorian promised, shifting towards him, hand reaching out to lightly touch his wrist. "It will."

"No, it won't. I've wasted so much time..." Klaus didn't flinch away from that touch, Dorian's gentle hand; instead he stayed still, not looking at the thief. "And I don't know what to do now."

"You haven't wasted anything," Dorian told him. "You've led me on a wild ride and taught me a lot of things that I didn't really understand before, among them what it's like to truly love someone. Before you, it was all fun and games and I don't think I understood a thing about fidelity. Did you know that? I'll bet you did. Would you like to know something? I haven't so much as seriously kissed someone else since you came into my life. I was after Caesar when we met and before I knew it, I was hoping you'd rub off on him and he'd become like you. That, I think, was the last time..."

"That's a long time to wait for a man who thinks he's straight," Klaus pointed out quietly.

"Darling, for you, I'd wait forever," Dorian replied quietly.

"I can't see what there is to want to wait 'forever' for." He was stubborn, hard-headed, mean, cruel, sharp-tongued, obsessed with weaponry...

That blond head tilted to the side, looking at him seriously. "Well, you're stubborn, beautiful, aggravating, intense, secretly care about your people greatly, even when you're being annoying, honorable, perversely tender, and just... just *incredible*, Klaus. You're so much of everything that words fail me, you know. Everyone pales in comparison to you."

"'Perversely tender'? I want that explained," Klaus told him, with his eyebrows creeping up under his bangs. He was a man who loved to shoot things, hit things and yell -- how the hell...

Dorian shrugged, smiling slightly. "One minute you're yelling at me, the next you're asking me not to cry. It's probably the most pointed example I can think of, you know. You're like that. Nothing with you is ever simple, it's always ever-changing and complex, and I adore it. I adore you."

"I don't know." A lot of things, and it applied to all of them. Klaus shifted again, finally to look at Dorian. "I... just.... 'm lost."

"You might be, for a while," Dorian said softly. "You know, I was for a while. Most everyone is, when they think they... well, when they discover that they like men and they're a man, or if it's a woman, that she likes women. It's not something we're prepared for. As boys, we learn to buck up, to be a man, and suddenly, you're lost and thinking, 'What the hell am I? What could be wrong with me, that I'm this way? Why am I different?' And there's no answer to that, right off. Actually," he admitted slowly, "the answers are hard to come by."

"I have different questions," Klaus mused, resting his chin in his hand now. "What am I going to tell my father? Will this effect my ability to continue missions with you? I... am not a social man -- I've never been in a.... any relationship that wasn't a pay one."

The notion of Klaus, of all people, paying for sex was perfectly appalling, and he wanted to pursue that, but... yes, okay, he had to pursue that! Just not right now, if he could help it. "Darling, it's not your social skills that made me love you. It's so many things, most of all that tenderness you hide so well. As for your father..." He paused. "I really don't know. I've never met your father. And mine was rather an exception to the rule. He and my mother occasionally shared boyfriends, you know, before she left him. As I said, an eclectic household. As for previous relationships..." Okay, so he couldn't leave it alone. "You mean, paying someone to accompany you somewhere? Tell you what; I'll do it for free," he teased gently.

"Dorian..." The man sighed and slumped a little in the seat, holding back a small cough. He certainly looked tired and furtive now. The sigh of his name was almost a tired warning. Almost. "I... It's complicated right now. Very complicated. I can't see where next, or... anything." He wanted, more than anything, a reason to not have to choose at all. A mission, that would take him away from Dorian, and away from the castle.

"Sleep on it," the thief suggested gently, reaching out to touch his face. "Maybe things will be clearer in the morning..."

"Somehow I believe that if I think on it, I will only muddle things, Dorian," Klaus told him solemnly, lifting military-green eyes to look at Dorian.

"Then what are you going to do?" Dorian asked seriously, looking back at him.

A rough laugh again -- the sounds wasn't pleasant, or calming. "I don't know."

"What would you like *me* to do?" came the further question.

"I... can't say. But something. Don't leave me alone."

"I would never," Dorian assured him, those fingers on his face caressing gently. "Klaus?"

"Ja?" Asked in an even tone that entirely belied his half-frightened and half angry expression.

"Close your eyes."

For a moment, Klaus looked at him questioningly -- what was it to be? A kiss? A shot to his head...? A drugging?

"Close them."

One more moment of wary hesitation, and then those green eyes closed, lightly, ready to open at the first sign of misgiving. If it was to harm him, as he suspected first of anyone, then at least it would be putting him out of his misery... and if a kiss, into it deeper.

Instead, it was a feather light brush of fingers over temples and forehead, brushing back through wet hair tenderly as Eroica shifted on the couch beside him. He felt no kisses, nothing threatening, only arms that came around him finally and hugged him to the other man's chest, a hand lightly on the back of his head in offered comfort.

Neither, and it was almost as bad. Klaus knew he was cracking at the edges, every last damned edge he had -- knew it as he rested like that, and felt his breath hitch in his throat before he pressed down every thought in his mind. /Think of nothing. Nothing, about this, or anything else. Bleakness.../

"You know," came Dorian's voice softly to his ears, "the longer you resist, the more it will hurt, darling."

"'m not resisting anything," Klaus spoke in a very slow, tight voice, muffled against borrowed pajamas.

"Hmmm," was the neutral answer, though the tender petting that felt so good against his back and shoulders did not stop.

It wasn't sexual or explicit in any of the ways he was accustomed to Dorian acting around him when he had a chance to touch the Major. It was soothing, and protective, almost, trickling into a void that Klaus had always been afraid to go near. He felt... loved, for once. Once in so very long. No one loved or cared for him. Cold, distant respect and fear, foppish, annoying flirting, all too often something he received. Not this... "My poor darling..." And ah, it was terrible to hear that voice, so obviously not what Dorian should sound like, nothing at all like he was!

That hurt, too. Why did everyone seem to think he knew things that he *didn't* -- so sure that he knew this, or knew that, and he *didn't*, could never be sure or secure enough in anyone to believe... The hitch again, and again, dangerous and welling up in his throat, shoved down once more. He was a grown man, and grown men didn't cry, not over something as idiotic as this!

"You'll feel much better if you do," Dorian whispered, knowing what Klaus was holding back and aching with sympathy and pain as he continued touching the dark-haired man, wanting desperately to kiss away all fears and insecurities. /My poor darling.../

To cry would have been cathartic -- he hadn't cried in years and years, even with agents lost in the line of duty, terrible tragedies, close calls for all involved... No tears. To cry would have been for him to concede too much of who he thought he was in one day.

It shouldn't have surprised Dorian when Klaus jerked back, eyes still closed for a moment, heel of his hand pressing to them before he opened them, looking serious and solemn. "I can't."

Dorian's blue eyes were shadowed, expression distinctly exhausted. "I know." He sighed deeply, dropping back onto the couch slightly. "Maybe we should go to bed, darling. It's been a long day, and it hasn't been good for either of us..."

"Are you... going to stay down here?" Klaus asked after a moment, as he reached a hand to finish off the water-glass.

"On the couch in the parlour, if you don't mind," Dorian replied.

The parlour where Klaus slept... "Yes -- that would be good." Klaus rose from the sofa at last, making a shifting arch of his back that cracked the joints.

"You took all of your medicine?" Eroica asked, reached up to rub an eye sleepily.

"Yes -- unless there was something you didn't give me." He wished it would heal up right away -- it would make things easier for him, he was sure of that.

"It was all there," Dorian assured him as he stacked the remains of their plates on the tray, deciding to leave them there for the maids to find. /All there and then a bit./ "Let's go, then, darling."

Klaus was silent as he led the way down the hall, a short trip that he detoured from only for a moment to use the washroom, and then return to pull out his pair of pajamas while contemplating just kicking off his shoes and crawling under the sheets. Still, he dressed, slipping them on without his usual frantic modesty, and slid between the sheets as Dorian scrounged for a blanket and, upon finding one, flipped out the lights.

The walk through the dark wasn't that bad, and he slid silently onto the sofa, settling in before saying, "Are you all right?" Well, he knew that Klaus wasn't, but...

"Yes." Spoken crisply, as Klaus shifted to his better side, and curled against the pillow some. So tired, and afraid to think...

After that, Dorian kept silent, wondering if the sleeping medication he'd given Klaus was working, hoping that it was. He loved the other man, truly and deeply, for all that his capricious behavior might have, at some point, suggested otherwise. He worried for him, and he didn't want him to hurt like this, ever...

Medication and Klaus were strange things, though -- he tended to have a natural immunity of sorts to certain types, or amounts. Sleeping pills only calmed him now, mellowed him out and dulled his anger. He'd taken them too often after certain horrific missions, for them to really work in the dose that Dorian had given him, such a small one.

But the Major, tensely strung as he was, seemed calm until Dorian heard it at last -- struggled and quietly muffled sobbing that he had expected to come sooner.

Wordlessly, he rose, a strobe of lightning lighting his way as he padded to the bed barefoot and climbed into it carefully, remaining atop the covers even as he laid down next to Klaus and offered his arms and himself for comfort. "Come here," he whispered softly, pulling him close. "Shhh, love. It's all right. I'm here for you..." No words from Klaus, yet the choking, half held back tears kept flowing, now wetting Dorian's borrowed pajamas as he let himself be held by the thief. "Shhhh," Dorian whispered, the sound meant only to be soothing as he rocked slightly, hands rubbing Klaus's back. "Shhh, my poor darling. Shhh..."

"Dor..." Useless. He was just useless; the tears, that short achingly hard burst of them opening the floodgates for more than he'd thought he had, a jagged edge of crying and clinging lightly to the thief, and it was all taken in stride, nothing but comfort given to him with the soft murmur of solace in his ear and those hands touching him with nothing more than reassurance in mind.

"I know. I know it's so hard," Dorian whispered, heart breaking to see Klaus that way, sobbing and hurt. "I know, let it out..."

It seemed to go on for forever, and if it were even just a minute long, it was too long for Klaus. He pulled himself together at last, starting to cough again, breath failing him for a moment as he stayed where he was, Dorian so close, the man's shoulder and chest just beneath his wet face.

Even though he'd stopped crying, the hands rubbing his back and shoulders had not, nor had the sussuration of words that spilled quietly, meant to make him feel a bit better. When he coughed, though, the rub became a light pat, and Dorian shifted. "Do you want me to get you some water?" he asked quietly.

Klaus was giving a shaky nod, taking those words as an excuse to break the light contact before he embarrassed himself further, laying back on the mattress instead of on Dorian, wiping his eyes and face with the edge of the sheets.

"I'll be right back," the other man murmured, rising and heading down the hallway to the bathroom, coming back after rinsing out the teacup that Klaus had left there and filling it with water, bringing with him a balled up handful of tissue. "Sit up, darling," he said calmly, crawling back into the bed as if he belonged there.

At least he wasn't under the covers, though the way Klaus's day was going, they'd somehow end up in the same pair of pants. Still, Klaus did sit up, hand over his mouth as the cough shifted deep and painful for a moment.

"You have a check-up tomorrow, right?" Dorian fretted, biting his lip. God, if Klaus got sick it would be all his fault for not stopping him from sitting out in the rain like that!

"Ja." He pulled his hand away from his mouth at last, cough under control, fingers reaching for the tissue to wipe away flecks of blood.

That lip was still being worried between white teeth. "Are you going to tell him about running out in the rain, or that you're coughing up blood?" If he wasn't, Dorian was going to tell on him!

"It's just residuals from the surgery," Klaus dismissed quietly, cleaning his palm, and then taking the cup of water to drain it quickly. "Thank you, Dorian."

"You ought to tell him..." Dorian said solemnly, watching him drink the water and then taking the cup to put it on the nearby table. "I think it would be a good idea..."

"I will." If only so that the other man didn't worry so much over him... "Will you be driving me, or should I get one of the men..."

That gained him a quick answer. "Oh, I'll be driving! Although really, darling, your car is so terribly staid..."

"Don't insult my Benz," Klaus snapped -- it was an ingrained, irritable reply, but it was more like the old Klaus than this strange new one Dorian was starting to know of, and in a way, it was something of a relief.

"Of course not, darling. But maybe I can rent something in *red* for a while," he teased, making it obvious.

"It's not worth your trouble," Klaus told him, slipping back down to lay again. "Sleep, Dorian. We both need it..."

The agreement that came was quiet, Dorian laying down slowly beside him, wondering if Klaus would kick him out of the bed. "All right..."

He wasn't kicked out, though. In spite of -- or perhaps because of -- what had happened that afternoon and evening, Klaus let Dorian remain there, finally lifting up a layer of the blankets and moving it over Dorian so the man wouldn't freeze while they slept... and then he slept, as well, though it remained troubled even until morning.

~~~~~

The sun was shining in when Dorian came close to waking, and he rolled over, sighing slowly and stretching as he did so, coming into contact with another body. It was only through sheer source of will that he didn't jump. It had been years since he'd slept with anyone at all -- Klaus had made it perfectly impossible for him to want anyone else -- but he was glad that he hadn't when he saw Klaus's face in the morning light, dark lashes shadowing his cheeks, the expression so deeply peaceful.

With a sigh, Dorian lay there, watching him for the longest time. He was so beautiful but, more than that, he had a force of personality and the same careless zest for everything that Dorian also had. He was exquisite. He was perfect, and perfect for *him*, and Dorian knew it, as he always had!

Their approach with that zeal were different things, though -- Klaus's through anger, Dorian's through adoration. It left the thief wondering just how Klaus had been raised, to make him such a heat-forged piece of iron, threateningly cold on the outside, but bitterly hot inside.

/Damned old man,/ he decided, jaw working slightly with fury. /This has something to do with his father, this hysterical homophobia of his. But then, doesn't everyone's, in the end?/ With a sigh, he scooched down farther in the bed, golden curls tangled from drying overnight. /That's going to be hell to brush out./ It was very likely that Klaus would volunteer to do it, as he'd done in nights before. So strangely gentle, his roughened touch...

"'s the time?"

"Almost ten," Dorian replied quietly, having peeked at the red digits of the clock a moment prior. "We don't have to get up yet."

"Ten?!" Klaus startled quietly, half sitting up -- he *never* slept that late, even when ill!

"It was a rough night," Dorian said softly, not rising. "You're allowed to sleep late when you've felt bad, Klaus."

Silence before Klaus asked, "When did you fall asleep?"

"A little after you covered me up, I think," came the half-decision, though the Earl really wasn't sure, to be truthful. "You were very warm, and it was awfully comfortable."

"I'm glad." Klaus knew that he himself hadn't slept so well, or for very long until the early morning; around the same time he knew Dorian had fallen asleep.

"Lay back down," Dorian said softly. "We don't have to be at the doctor's 'til three."

The shift from up on his elbows to his back was an easy one to make, though Klaus didn't shift his gaze from Dorian's face.

"Hi." It seemed like the thing to say, in that moment, slightly whimsical, and Dorian couldn't help but smile. "I'm Dorian Red Gloria. It's very nice to meet you."

There was no harm in playing along, even for the short while Klaus guess it would last, he relaxed a little. "Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach," he said. "It's my pleasure."

That made Dorian's smile even broader, and brought a glimmer of humor and pleasure into his eyes long gone unseen. "So, since we seem to be here together, maybe we should tell all about ourselves."

"Why don't you start?" Klaus suggested, sounding unsure for a moment. "I... you can start."

"All right," came the agreement. "I'm good at talking." That brought with it a wink. "I'm Dorian. I was born in England at a castle called North Downs thirty-one years ago. My parents were always the life of the party and *never* at home, so I had more imaginary playmates than real ones." At that, his lips quirked slightly. "And quite a few of Oberon's faeries, besides. I have degrees in business, philosophy, and art history, with a master's and doctorate in the latter. I'm also an exquisite thief with," and here, those lips quirked again, humor dancing in his eyes, "truly bad fashion taste, according to the love of my life. And you?"

"Thirty-four, born in Schloss Eberbach, my family's ancestral home. Mother died when I was very young, and father always seemed to be pushing me toward fulfilling familial duties. I went through the officer program for the army. I haven't been promoted, though I'm starting to be convinced that it's because I'm more useful where I am than I would be with a higher rank elsewhere. I'm stubborn and loud, with a habit of shooting and hitting things."

A short pause and then he added, "And I just quit smoking."

"I like stubborn, loud men who shoot and hit things who don't smoke," Dorian joked, smiling at him. "They're my favorite kind." /Familial duties my ass./ That, after all, was what in vitro fertilization was for. It was expensive, yes, and there was the matter of finding a willing woman, but it meant Dorian didn't have to have *sex* with one, the mere thought of which was enough to make him ill.

The edges of Klaus's mouth twitch up for a moment, not that scary smile he'd given a few times the night before. "Glad to hear it, since we've seemed to end up in bed together."

"Well, you know, it's always a good idea to like your bed partners," Dorian agreed, laughing softly. "I rather like you a lot. I'm glad we're here."

"Dorian... don't expect much from me for a while," Klaus spoke seriously after a moment more of that silly smile.

"I'll try," Dorian promised seriously. "It's almost scary, in a way, because the impossible might be possible after all, and perhaps that's even more dangerous than anything I've done ever before. The sheer prospect of... of there being any sort of chance for me at all, even in the most remote of ways, makes me giddy, Klaus. I can't help it."

"I've never even... tried to have a relationship with anyone, Dorian.. I... truly meant it when I said last night that I don't know what to do." /Guide me./

A hand reached out, lightly finding Klaus's. "While I'd love to seduce you, kiss you, have you madly in love with me right now, I think we're off to a beautiful start just the way we are," he was told quietly. "But Klaus... would you mind? If I kissed you?"

Fingers clasped back only lightly, but at least they clasped at all. "No way to tell."

"No way but to try," Dorian noted solemnly.

"Ja..." Klaus's eyes held a familiar shutter, hiding any unneeded emotion, and the thoughts behind those eyes -- but at least it wasn't anger. More thought than anything. /No way but to try.../

Carefully, eyes open and latched onto the green ones across from him, the thief leaned forward and pressed his mouth softly to Klaus's. Only then did they slide shut, as if Dorian was unable to stop it, just as he seemed unable to stop the silky sigh that brushed loose from him when their lips touched, his own parted slightly for the kiss. It was slow, deliberate, tender, and when Dorian pulled back, his eyes had become dark with some inexpressible emotion, but his mouth curved upwards slightly as he looked at Klaus. "Was it bad?"

If he said 'yes', Klaus thought to himself, Dorian would leave his life forever in the capacity of friend and tormentor, and Klaus would be left with his work and his agents, bad lungs, probably dying some painful slow death at the hands of an angry Soviet before his lungs killed him. Yet, if he told the truth, what sort of doom was he leading himself into...?

"No."

At that answer, another kiss was granted, this one much like the first except longer, warmer. "I'm glad."

Klaus was slow to respond, like a piece of ice being tapped by a warm finger - in little trickles, he responded. Tiny surges of motion, unsure but certainly not disgusted, were felt against Dorian's lips as they parted, and oh, how sweet it was to kiss Klaus, to bring a hand up and touch his face, and to feel him respond!

When the third kiss started, Klaus had to break away. "Dorian..." He hadn't called the man Eroica in days, it seemed, and he probably hadn't. How strange... "I don't know how this would effect missions..."

"Right." The sound was just a little breathy, mostly from exhilaration. "We'll have to see about that, too, won't we?"

"Ja..." He felt himself shiver, the hardness of shuttered eyes softening for a moment. "Today... what will we do, Dorian?"

For a moment, Dorian's eyes closed, and perhaps Klaus thought he was drifting back into sleep before he said, "Hmm, why don't we get up, get dressed, eat, and go for a drive before we go to the doctor's office?"

"Just a drive?"

"Perhaps a stop or two on the way. We could take a tarp and a basket for a picnic, since it's still wet out."

Nodding, Klaus shifted a bit away, to get out of bed. "I feel like trying exercise today. A few sit-ups, to see what hurts still."

Well, it wasn't like Dorian could exactly stop him! "If you really feel the need, but I don't think you should, darling. It's only been four and a half weeks!!! It can't be at all good for you!" Not that Klaus would listen, of course...

"Over a month -- good enough," Klaus said as he stood up for a moment, looking thoroughly mussed from the night before; seconds later, he laid down on the floor, hands folded behind his head, heels of his feet very nearly against his ass.

"Darling, you're a madman. I adore you," Dorian admitted ruefully, "but only you would have your chest cracked open and be attempting sit-ups after less than five weeks. Ahh, but that's what makes you who you are, I suppose."

"We'll see how right you are," Klaus mused, starting his first one smoothly, chest aching. It was a dull ache, though, and he was glad to know that he, at least, was still functioning, and that despite the lack of practice, his muscles hadn't faded too much. He reached seventy before he decided to stop. He felt strangely winded, when he used to be able to do a hundred, without even breaking a sweat.

"You're a madman," Dorian said again, but it was with a certain tone of voice that seemed to imply that he loved every last moment of it and could watch him for hours. "Let's get dressed, darling."

"Give me a hand up," Klaus demanded, pleasantly enough, holding a hand up towards Dorian.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Dorian grasped it and allowed Klaus to pull himself up at his own speed. "I'll have to find your butler before I can get dressed," he murmured.

"Check the gun room. He dusts in the morning."

"Will do, darling," Dorian said, tugging at tangled strands of hair as he climbed out of bed entirely. "I'll never get all of the knots out..."

"Try to wash it out -- if it doesn't work, we still have the brush." Klaus moved to the door, pausing only to pick out semi-casual clothing. And no tie - after his strike at Dorian's dress, there was surely a strike for his ties next...

"Yes, Klaus," and then Dorian was out the door, heading down the hall and away from him. It wasn't such a long trip to the gun room; however, it was not, by far, a place Dorian liked very much. Still, he supposed it was necessary to search for the butler there if that was where Klaus said that he would be. "Hello?"

"May I help you...?" The man looked up from polishing a sharp looking Baretta that was on a desk.

"Ah, yes," Dorian replied, raising an eyebrow. Oh, Lord, he didn't like guns one bit, much less when they might for any reason whatsoever be in hands other than Klaus's or one of the Alphabets', really. "I was wondering where my luggage had got off to..."

"It was moved into the kitchen last evening."

"Oh," Dorian said. "Well, I'll just go fetch it, then..."

"Very well, sir. Shall I...?"

"Er, whatever you're doing is fine, I'll get the ladies in the kitchen to scrounge up breakfast," Dorian assured, turning to leave. Another barely pleasant parting word, and then Dorian was in the kitchen, where he found his bags.

The ladies there were quite nice, promising scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast and a large picnic basket, and then he headed back to the parlor, luggage in hand, to change into clothing of his own.

When he came in it was to get a pleasant view of Klaus's chest as he pulled a plain black t-shirt down over his torso, covering the dressings that stood out starkly against shower and heat flushed skin. Jeans. Major Eberbach, the cold, hard, Iron Klaus, was wearing jeans, that fit him in the same manner as all of his pants did -- close to muscled legs. And sneakers. Now Dorian truly had cause to worry that Klaus had lost his mind.

The urge to declare, "Wow!", was fought off with some difficulty as Dorian put his cases down and knelt to open one, looking for something similar...or, at least, something that wouldn't make Klaus uncomfortable. "They were in the kitchen," he said as he did so, tilting his head slightly. "Your butler's scary, darling."

"How so?" Klaus asked as he moved to a drawer in the bureau that had been brought down for him some weeks before, and pulled out a familiar ox-hide belt. The t-shirt was already being efficiently tucked in.

"Oh, just..." Dorian paused, pulling out a pair of dark slacks and a turquoise shirt, thanking God for Bonham's dedicated clothing of him. "I suppose asking a man who's cleaning off guns where my luggage is makes me nervous."

"He wasn't cleaning -- he was dusting. I have him do that when I am not attending to them properly." Meaning, when he was sick as he was now, or away on a mission. The belt that Dorian had once stolen from him was buckled, and Klaus managed a smile for Dorian then, once he was fully dressed.

"Still, darling. I'm not so fond of firearms," he pointed out as he gathered things together, "when they are not in *your* hands."

"You're not fond of them when they are in my hands," Klaus countered. But he, at least, was good with guns. Wonderful, in fact -- there was a natural affinity he had with them that couldn't be matched with anything else. Except for tinkering with cars...

"Well, at least I'm sure *you're* not going to shoot me, no matter how tempted you might be," Dorian told him wryly, deciding that last night's bath would do and beginning to dress. "I'm not so sure about your butler!"

"What makes you so sure that I wouldn't shoot you?" He wouldn't, and they both knew it, and had known it for some time -- the worst he'd do would be to give Dorian a black eye -- but the why was something he'd never questioned of himself.

Dorian tilted his head to the side. "I don't know," he said slowly, beginning to button his shirt slowly, pants still unbuttoned and waiting for him to tuck it in. "Perhaps because I tend to be useful to you. More likely because you wouldn't shoot me for being madly in love with you, though you were certainly tempted at that border crossing..." Oh, but it had been so nice to kiss Klaus like that, even if Jamesie was bawling so!

"I was very tempted," he agreed, looking away very clearly as he moved to the second drawer to pull out his treasured Magnum. Well, one of them.

"Ahh, but you were beautiful dressed in black," Dorian said dreamily, looking at him now as he tucked in his shirt and buttoned his pants. "Even if you did scare the life out of me, jerking me back like that, darling!"

"You were going to foul up," Klaus murmured firmly, almost a reminder. "But you are still a better assistant on missions than the Alphabets. Your sense of self-preservation is weaker."

Dorian only smiled, though, working fingers through tangled curls. "No, darling. I just know that you'll save me."

"I couldn't save you this last mission." Klaus moved towards the other side of the room, to get the brush. "Sit on the bed."

"Hmmm," Dorian murmured, sitting obediently and waiting for Klaus to begin. "No, you couldn't, but sometimes, it's my turn, you know. All's fair in love, war and espionage and all that."

"My idiocy nearly cost both of us our lives." He pulled out a holster next, and Dorian could see the slight wince was he stretched out his stiff left shoulder to slide the holster on, gun in place.

Dorian's fingers went back to plying through curls. "It didn't, though," he pointed out. "Besides, you could as well stop putting yourself in danger for NATO as I could stop my thievery, darling. It's just quite unlikely."

"There is danger that is unnecessary, though." And it hurt him to think of what had given them away, from their hiding place in the air shaft -- a cough. "And it was my fault."

"Still," Dorian replied, looking at him. "We're alive. You're alive, because of it, because they found what they did and took care of it. And that, my dearest Major, is the most important thing of all."

"Let's leave. Else we'll banter away the time we have before my appointment," Klaus decided, sudden and decisive.

A slight pout crossed Dorian's lips, wiped away before Klaus could see it. "Could I have the hairbrush, first?" Well, it wasn't like he didn't have his own, but it was so much nicer when Klaus did it...

With a sigh, Klaus moved to the bed, pushing Dorian slightly to the side. "Don't distract me again, then." He seated himself behind the thief, one leg folded under his body, pleasantly close to the other man as he began gentle strokes.

"Yes, Klaus," came the nearly purred reply, eyes closing as the German began to brush out those tangled skeins of gold. There was the paradoxical gentleness again, hands and arms strong enough to shoot a Magnum one handed stroking through Dorian's hair as gently as one would pet a small kitten. "You know," he whispered, "this is the single most wonderful thing that you do for me." Ah, and it was, utterly rapturous, and he closed his head, heart beating slightly faster. God, he loved Klaus for it!

"Better than your long sought kisses?" Klaus asked him, whether in jest or serious, who could tell?

"Well," Dorian said thoughtfully, "there's no denying that being kissed by you is wonderful, and close, and better than I ever thought it would be. This, though..." He gave a low murmur of sound, as if thoughtful. "You're so good to me..."

"No, I'm not. You're only saying that because I haven't hit you in weeks," Klaus observed, still combing through tenderly.

At that, Dorian laughed. "That's not being good to me?"

"To even be able to count when I have and haven't isn't good." A snort of breath from the major to end that sentence, and then the brushing stopped with a few lingering strokes to the ends of his hair. "There."

"Thank you," Dorian said, sighing deeply. How he wished it wasn't done! "Let's eat a bite for breakfast and go for a drive, darling. The ladies in the kitchen promised there'd be eggs for breakfast and the picnic basket would be ready when we left."

"When we come back this afternoon, remind me to look at the Benz. It wasn't running perfectly when I last looked at it, and it hasn't been driven in too long." Klaus rose smoothly, and Dorian could feel a distinct loss of the heat that had been near his back.

"All right." Easy to agree, easier to stand and slip on shoes quickly, comfortable black loafers with silver buckles on them that would have looked prissy on almost any other man. "I'll watch. You know I'm not good with mechanical things..."

"You'll be bored," Klaus told him. "I need to change the oil, among other things."

"I'm never bored when I'm with you, darling," Dorian pointed out.

"I'll hold you to that when you begin to yawn." He moved towards the door, waiting for Dorian to follow. The shoulder holster, clearly visible against the black of his shirt, was a strange touch to the casual clothes he wore.

"Why wear that today?" came the curious question as they stepped out into the hall, heading towards the dining room, a monstrosity of a thing not fit for small meals such as these, but Klaus was accustomed to dining there alone and so that was where the ladies would serve this morning, since Dorian had made no suggestions otherwise.

"I do not want to be disturbed while we are out. Any agent who sees us will be less likely to attack knowing that I am armed."

At that, Dorian was glad to be behind him because he couldn't help himself when he rolled his eyes. /One day, my darling Major, we will have an entire twenty-four hours together paranoia free. Oh, I hope that day comes soon!/

~~~~~

Klaus was in a low level of heaven, even if it was a messy one. He'd already changed the oil and was now on his back, half under the jacked up car, tightening hoses that had loosened from non-use and use alike.

"Are you still awake over there?" he called to Dorian, voice muffled by the glorious undercarriage.

"Umhum," Dorian answered, sighing with delight as he watched Klaus's legs shift, pushing him a little farther under the car. Goodness, but that was a glorious sight, and earlier, he'd been leaning over so that his ass was in full view of God and everybody -- well, perhaps just Dorian, but that was all right, too. "I'm just fine, darling. Absolutely *fabulous*, my sweetheart." He truly was, especially since the doctor had told them both they were doing all right!

Klaus just had to watch those last two sutures, and the seepage, and he'd be fine. Finish up the medications, and everything would be good. "You call me those things just to frustrate me, don't you?" Klaus asked rhetorically, as he cinched a metal band in place with pliers.

"Mmm, maybe," came the teasing reply, "though if you asked me, I'd say I call you these things because I love you."

"Same thing," he snorted, though it was without malice as he shifted out a bit from under the Benz. "You love to exhaust me, Dorian, as much as anything."

That brought to mind several lovely, filthy, *sweaty* ways to wear Klaus out in all of their capacities. "Yes," he agreed. "I just love that idea."

"Idea? Don't tell me. I don't want to know. Don't even think it." Klaus's own mind jumped to more than several such thoughts -- if he let it have free reign, he would be dirtier of thought than Dorian!

"Yes, darling," came the cheerfully obedient reply, though it was rather too late -- he'd already thought it, and was probably going to think it again more than once.

Klaus had decided to take his time on tuning up the car, tightening everything at least once, double-checking connections and where leaks would start, so he could be ready to repair when it happened. All very familiar, beloved things for him to do, as keeping his Benz in pristine condition was one of many points of pride for him. "Today has been a good day," he declared at last as he wheeled out from under the Benz, and sat up, covered in little drips and smudges.

"Oh, I agree," Dorian said, standing up and walking over, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and leaning forward. "You know, you're gorgeous in grease. Just in case no one's ever told you," he said cheerfully, wiping at a smear on one of those lovely high cheekbones.

"No one ever has," Klaus returned in a tone that, for him, was light, and there was a smile on his face, small but certainly not that evil thing of danger. "Pick something you wish to do tonight, Dorian. Not now... have it decided by the time I'm back from showering. Tell me, and we'll do it."

"Anything?" Dorian asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Use reason," Klaus warned.

Reason was definitely required, the thief decided. After all, an offer of *anything* wasn't something he'd ever suspected he'd get from Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach, and a man with sense would certainly make sure that he didn't push too far! The perfect answer, however, came very quickly to mind. "Go shower, darling. I'll decide while you bathe!"

"Good." Klaus left, unaware of the kind of plotting Dorian was using against him, though he suspected. It would end in either some horrible diner fiasco, a dancing fiasco, or some other social outing that Klaus would hate and Dorian would love.

He should only hope to be so lucky.

By the time he was out, Dorian had questioned everyone and had finally managed to locate one thing he was looking for and had moved it into the parlor -- a television that had definitely seen better days, and only had a little two pronged antenna to help it out. "This," he declared to himself as he looked at it, frowning and unaware that Klaus was behind him by now, "simply will NOT do."

"Not if you're planning on putting it to some obscene use, no -- what are you trying to do?"

Dorian stood, hands on his hips, and turned around. "I'm planning on going into town and buying a television and a VCR, darling. God, they've been around for years now, it won't be nearly as expensive as a beta would have been! And then, we're going to pick up some movies and some popcorn and come home and sit in the dark and watch them."

For a moment, Klaus was silent, and then....

Then, blessedly, he smiled. "No sappy love stories!" And with that, he grasped Dorian's wrist, pulling him towards the door. "I'll go with you to assure that."

Eroica only laughed, though, delighted at that smile. "I have the *perfect* movies in mind, darling!"

"Do you know where to get them...? Or a VCR?" Klaus was not one for watching TV, but if it was what Dorian had chosen, well... it was better than what he'd suspected the thief of wanting.

"I know EXACTLY where to get them, and it won't take long," Dorian promised.

"Then you'll drive, and I'll come along to carry what you get."

"Perfect," came the agreement, and then they were out the door.

"That wasn't really so bad, now, was it?" Dorian asked. He'd insisted that they have the television delivered, and they'd had a bit of a quick squabble about it, but he'd made Klaus happy by letting him tote the box with the vcr in it -- a terribly heavy thing that the other man SHOULDN'T be lifting, but telling Iron Klaus 'should' or 'shouldn't' was about as useful as expecting the Great Wall of China to up and move itself to the middle of Russia.

Not going to happen.

Klaus also had insisted on paying for it -- under pretense of saving Dorian the trouble of explaining it to James. "Let me hook this up, and then we will be all set..."

Tourmaline eyes rolled slightly as if to imply, 'why me?', and then Eroica grinned. "I'll move the old television back to its dusty hole, then, darling," he declared cheerfully, "and see what's in the kitchen!"

"I sent the servants away again, so we'll have to fend for ourselves in that arena." Not that he minded -- he was accustomed to it, from living in his spartan little apartment in Bonn. Having people waiting on him all the time was a bit nerve-wracking...

"Marvelous." Oh, that was nearly purred, the Briton couldn't help himself! The mere thought of being alone with his major was... DELICIOUSLY tempting! Ah, but he would try so hard to be good! "Sandwiches, then, and we'll make popcorn for the movie when we're done."

"I think your new goal in life is to try to feed me to death," Klaus murmured, putting the television on the library table, VCR beside it, and trying his damnedest to not look like it was hurting him to do.

"Eating regular meals won't kill you, Klaus!" Dorian called back as he headed down the hall. "Even the occasional piece of cake won't! Really!"

"Yes, it will!" he snapped back, just... well, to be testy, he supposed, kneeling down on the floor to connect the wires together.

"Whatever you say, darling!" came the faint yell followed by the sound of a door opening.

It was amusing to Klaus to finally realize that this was a kinder version of their usual banter. They sounded like an old married couple now, bickering and gently sniping back and forth. With that in mind, everything before seemed like a heated lover's spat.

He wondered how on earth he hadn't noticed that before!

It had been passionate, wild, and infuriating, and -- he had to admit to himself as he attempted to connect the appropriate wires -- it had also been utterly and deliciously decadent in the strangest sort of way... foreplay.

He wondered how many *other* people *had* noticed!!

Mischa, at least, Z and A, who were always nervous when Dorian and Klaus were on a mission together, or even in the same country. All of those three thought that Klaus was still resisting the thief, though, so for Dorian's safety, the game would have to continue while on missions.

That thought caused him to pause fully in what he was doing, an expression flitting over his face that resembled rather remarkably that of a rabbit captured by headlights, or would have been called such if anyone had seen it. *The game would have to continue while on missions*. So, did that mean that he...

"Supper is served," Dorian announced cheerfully, coming back into the room with a tray containing sandwiches made of mustard, mayonnaise and thick slices of roast beef as well as the ever-present teapot. "Are you all right?" he asked, noticing that Klaus was a bit pale. "Perhaps you should sit down? I can hook it up, darling."

"A game..." Klaus muttered to himself, frowning and pale for a moment as he pushed the connectors in place and then picked up the two plugs to shove them into an extension cord. "I'm fine."

"Wonderful. Then sit down, and we'll eat, or we can turn on the movie and let it run through the previews first. Which do you want to watch to begin? I'm so glad we managed to get them in English. My German's miserable, darling."

"I noticed," Klaus agreed in a half-arrogant tone, all stunned half-smirk for the moment as he sat down beside Dorian. Fuck, a game...? Why didn't his own subconscious tell him these things?! "We'll turn on a movie. The one with more guns first."

At that, Dorian paused, laughed. "I'm not sure which one has more guns. Would you rather have the one with the maniacal cybernetic warrior chasing down the woman to kill her, or the one with all of the politics and big explosions? They're both American, heaven help us, but they do make the LOVELIEST explosive films..."

"The warrior," he decided, liking the sound of that a little better. Both sounded good, but politics were something to be seen only when tired...

Wordlessly, Dorian moved to pick up the two cases and to slip in the appropriate movie, bringing back the remote control, careful to slip the wire down so that it wouldn't interrupt what they were watching. He sat next to Klaus and poured tea for both of them. "Here," he said, since the previews were only just playing. "And eat."

"You're insistent today," the other man noted as he picked up the sandwich made for him, and shifted a tiny bit closer to Dorian, still in awe at the slow speed that he reached revelations.

"Hmmm," Dorian agreed, taking a bite of his own sandwich and happily curling himself near the Major before speaking again. "I think it's because I'm a bit happy today. Stupidly happy, but happy nonetheless. It's been a very pleasant day today, Klaus."

"In contrast to yesterday, being shot repeatedly in the head would make a pleasant day," Klaus snorted. He didn't shift away from Dorian's comfortable warmth -- only his pride and ethics were telling him to do that, and considering what they'd shoved down over the years within him, they could fuck off.

Another of those sounds of agreement came as they ate companionably, the previews going off and the movie beginning -- and it wasn't a bad beginning, either, since the homicidally inclined human-robot-thing was naked, and so was his counterpart. Dorian fought back the urge to cheer and just grinned instead, saying, "Well, that's one way to start off."

"If this movie stays like this, Dorian..." The threat was left off, but the growl in his voice nearly shouted it for the world to hear.

"Darling, I honestly didn't know. It isn't as if *I've* seen this Terminator thing before!" Dorian protested. "I'm sure they get clothes somehow...." Oh, and one of them was in the midst of stealing some right at that moment! "Nudity and thievery. How nice!"

"Your hobbies." Klaus set aside his half-eaten sandwich, and picked up the cup of tea, scowling at how much sugar and cream Dorian had put in it. He was badly missing his Nescafé, and the next time the thief made anything, he'd have to sneak into the kitchen and make sure they both ended up with that to drink.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Dorian replied reasonably, continuing to munch on his own.

"Not in your eyes. You've never been caught." Well, he had, but never *really* caught in a definite way. It was something for which Klaus was currently grateful.

The demure answer was so utterly deceiving when combined with the attitude behind it! "I *am* the best, darling," Dorian purred.

"As you let everyone clearly know," Klaus murmured, returning his attention to the movie because the sound of music was now playing in the background and the scene had changed.

"If I didn't, NATO wouldn't need me half as often," Dorian joked.

"You make situations worse for yourself, you know, because the Soviets now anticipate that you will be the one to break in..."

Dorian shrugged slightly. "They don't count me as worth much. Your leashed pet, probably, and trying to get into your bed. They laugh at me and make wagers on when you will shoot me, I suspect."

"It won't happen." Klaus was firm on that, glancing up to the set again, needing to catch only flickers of the movie. "When... when we are on mission, you and I will have to act as we did before. For your own safety -- as long as the other side thinks of you as unimportant to me, you will be safer."

"I promise," Dorian replied quietly. "Nothing will change when we're on a mission."

"Nothing I say... that will be hurtful... will be meant," Klaus told him after some uneasy hesitation.

"I understand."

The Major looked over to Dorian, checking warily. "Do you?"

"You don't want me to be threatened when I'm not with you," Dorian said solemnly. "You don't want them to know because that would make me more of a target than you, correct?"

Relief to know that Dorian did understand spurred Klaus into kissing his cheek very light, perhaps the first time he'd ever initiated such a motion. "Yes. It's for your safety."

That earned a smile and the turn of Dorian's head, lips so close to Klaus's, movie utterly ignored as Arnold Schwarzenneger rampaged on the television. "Yes," he whispered, blue eyes trained on the verdant gleam of his beloved's. "I understand."

It was fitting that the kiss was back-grounded by the noise of blazing gunfire. Fitting for Klaus, who'd found that admitting to himself, and to Dorian, that he truly cared for him a great deal was proving more painful than bullet wounds, and willed with a pleasure that was just as biting. "Liebling."

The little gasp that word startled from Dorian seemed almost painful and then the golden-haired man was kissing him again, deeply, sweetly, wantonly, little words babbling out between them. "Love you," they were, "love you forever," and, "for always," and, "Oh, my darling."

Finally, though he was responding almost violently, Klaus stopped the Briton from doing further by putting gentle hands on the earl's face, one on either side. "Not... so fast."

"Yes," Dorian whispered, though it hurt to hold back. "All right. Oh, Klaus." The entirety of his emotions were welling up, spilling over, an immense happiness mingled with an incredible adoration that made him shake. "Oh, my beloved most darling Klaus."

He couldn't equal the number of words as he shifted to slip an arm around the thief, keeping him close against his side, or the sheer amount of emotion the thief could give, but his eyes were intense with it, face mirroring his gaze, body motions all expressing those same words. "Let's... try to watch this."

'Watch this', indeed, for it was all Dorian could do not to turn and kiss Klaus again, the sheer euphoria of being held so close and warm enough to make him delirious with joy. He had truly never thought he'd get so close -- after not quite nine years of pursuit, who would have ever thought that it would happen? Still, he had loved Klaus, loved him fiercely and with every part of him, and he hadn't given up, and that had been rewarded. Sighing deeply, Dorian dropped his head onto the other man's shoulder and closed his eyes, bent on enjoying the contact much more than the movie, which by that point had some hysterical woman running about afraid of being killed by the man with the bad accent.

"I've always disliked Austrians," Klaus sighed, watching the gunfire. "Does my English sound so bad?"

"Your English is exquisite, my love," Dorian assured, nearly purring. "Just hearing you yell is enough for me to go into utter raptures."

Klaus smiled a little, snorted something in German about Austrians being trumped up Germanic white trash, and shifted a little closer to Dorian, watching the movie with an absent eye. Some of those bullet trajectories were just silly.

"Klaus?" Oh, that sleepy voice was delicious to his ears!

"Ja?"

The husky invitation that came next sent shivers down his spine. "Kiss me again?"

"Ja..." That was drawled slowly, almost casually; only Klaus never sounded casual unless there was something wrong. He turned his head slowly, taking Dorian's soft lips in his own.

Ah, God, it was just as good as the first time, and Dorian let him lead the way entirely, only whimpering softly in the back of his throat when they parted. /To hell with the movie. 'S not like I have the faintest notion of what's going on, anyway.../

Pulling back, Klaus sighed quietly. "I was getting sick of that angry game we played."

"Mmmm," Dorian said softly. "Sometimes, I believed it. Sometimes, I knew it couldn't be true. And sometimes, I despaired that you would ever believe me when I said that I loved you."

"It... is a hard thing to believe, even now," klaus admitted softly.

"That I love you?" came the quiet question.

"Ja."

That blond head tilted up to look at him solemnly. "If someone called you and told you that I was in trouble, that I needed you, what would you do?"

"I would ask for details on what had happened, and do what was needed to get you to safety," Klaus answered without hesitance.

"And I would do the same for you. Calling your friend when your father dies and having them come over immediately, this is friendship -- very good friendship. Marching into certain death to help someone else, Klaus, *that* is love," Dorian decided. "Insane, but neither one of us has ever laid great claim to sanity."

"I would not even think twice of doing that for you, Dorian." A thought which was startling for him, again -- more things he'd never realized. Even when swearing hatred, he'd risked himself how many times for Dorian?

"I know, darling," Dorian answered, face lightly pressed to Klaus's shoulder again. "I know. I'd walk into hell if I thought I could get you back from the devil."

"If something happened to you on a mission, Dorian... ach, I cannot say it." Klaus turned his head to press his face into those golden curls.

"Nothing will ever happen," he was informed firmly. "Nothing, you understand? Because you will be with me." Mostly. It wasn't like he was going to give up his life of crime... yet somehow it wasn't the stealing that worried Klaus. That was something Dorian brought down upon his own head; the danger of murder by Soviets or some other agency or person bent on revenge was Klaus's fault. "It will be all right," Dorian reassured.

"You and I... will manage." A whisper of voice from the other man, and he finally shifted to look at the movie again, watching with eyes only.

"Yes," came reassurance once more. "Klaus? I think I've missed the vast majority of this movie. I'm glad it wasn't the other one. It has a plot."

"Do you want to try to watch the other one...? We can talk more in the morning. Else my mind will get muzzy." Klaus offered.

"Why not let's just go to bed?" came the counter-offer.

"To...?" To do what? Sleep? Talk? Something else entirely...?

"To sleep, or to do whatever you want to do. I'm yours," the thief declared extravagantly, his smile definitely an offer.

"We'll watch this tomorrow, then." That they even knew there was a tomorrow was a miracle, since Klaus even vaguely accepting that offer seemed to declare the end of the world! "Sleep, I think."

"All right," Dorian agreed, not really fooled for a moment. Sleep, perhaps, but more kisses first, and that was quite enough to make him happy for the moment. "I'll run get a shower."

"I'll change, then." Klaus rose, a bit reluctantly, to turn off everything, glad that things... were solving themselves, in a way.

"Be right back, darling," Dorian declared, leaving to fetch toiletries and pajamas.

That left Klaus with a moment to himself... one that he didn't put to use at all, just ejected the movie, and laid the two tapes atop the VCR before he left the library to go to the parlor. Dorian, when not putting on the facade of faggishness, was the most interesting, entertaining, delightful person he'd ever met in his life. When Dorian was Dorian, he was a joy, and certainly... yes, a love.

By the time Dorian was back, Klaus was in his pajamas and in bed, which was just as well. Dorian's own sleep-wear consisted of satin boxers and a sleeveless top of the same material, dark blue, and he smelled once again of roses, a devastating scent. It had always been so -- only now, Klaus let himself react to it, let himself admit that it wasn't anger that stirred his breathing when Dorian was around him. "Turn off the light..."

The overhead light was turned out and Dorian moved forward in the darkness as if he belonged there, sliding beneath the sheets and close to Klaus's incredible warmth. "Hi."

"This is so strange, Dorian." To be laying abed with anyone, let alone with another man, Dorian of all people!

"Is it too bad?" Dorian asked hesitantly. A slight shift, and Klaus accidentally brushed a knee against Dorian's; he stiffened for a moment, then let himself press against the thief's lean, inviting body. "I take it it's not," Dorian whispered, turning towards him slightly, lips parted. He couldn't see Klaus in the dark, but he could feel him. Perhaps in some ways that would help -- to feel and not see any of the fleeting reactions on Klaus's face.

"It will be hard to sleep." That was noted with a tight sort of amusement.

"Because we're touching?" Dorian asked, reaching out lightly to find his face and press his fingers to it tenderly.

"Ja." But he didn't mind. God, no, he didn't mind at all... "I'm not used to such things."

"No," Dorian agreed. "Would you like to kiss me again, Major?" The way he said it went straight to Klaus's groin, into his bones, into his very organs! His brain was becoming mush....

"Ja." Shifting, Klaus found Dorian's mouth and took it again, taking a rough, searing and seeking kiss. There was no question of acquiescence, no consideration even that Dorian might want to resist or control it; only the willing and eager return, his tongue sliding out lightly to dance over Klaus's upper lip as he whimpered with the sheer pleasure of that onslaught and the need that it brought with it.

"No one ever made me want this," Klaus whispered as he broke for a moment, short and lovely feeling of just touching, before he took another kiss. Each one was as good as, if not better than, the first...

The feel of Dorian's breath was hot, pleasantly damp across his cheek when he murmured back, "I want to make you crave it forever..."

"I think if anyone could, it would be you." Truthful words, as Klaus shifted, trying to settle down comfortably in the awkwardness of touching another as he was touching Dorian.

"You know that you can do anything that you like to me, Klaus," Dorian whispered, unable to stop himself from making the offer. "Kiss me. Touch me. Have me kiss and touch you back, if you want..."

"I don't know what I'm doing," Klaus whispered back, trying not tell Dorian that he wasn't really ready yet, and that the second choice might be better for Dorian's safety...

"I'll show you," Dorian breathed, "if you want. But you have to say that you want it, and you need to be sure..." And oh, God, as much as he wanted to make love to Klaus in every way imaginable all night long, he knew that the other man couldn't possibly be ready for that!

"I want.. you to show me what I can handle," Klaus said after a moment of no thought at all -- only heady anticipation.

"All right, darling," came the low murmur, arms wrapping around him. "I'll do just that."

Lips brushed his once again, and then his face, delicate and light, all over it, settling finally upon an ear where Dorian nibbled, his hands busy stroking up and down Klaus's sides. It felt so good to touch his darling Klaus, and he shivered slightly with the wonder of it, not yet pressing the force of his erection against the other man's strong thigh. Instead, he kept his own pressed closely together as fingers began to lightly work at the German's pajama top.

"Ahh, Dorian!" Soft tightly restrained noises left his chest, letting Dorian slide up his shirt. It was pure pleasure... pleasure long promised and long denied them both, even touches so innocent seeming as the nibbling breath against his ear, much less the ones now spreading across his chest. Nimble fingers found their way to nipples that were perking from Dorian's touch, from the *promise* of that bliss, and the low moan that sounded in his ear before Dorian abandoned it for the delicious taste of his throat and throbbing pulse was exquisite. Teeth nibbled their way down his jugular, the press of Dorian's tongue felt across a collarbone and against the hollow of his throat and then one of those finger-abused upthrusts of flush had been taken into his mouth, teeth and tongue and lips paying homage to it as the touches of the thief's fingerpads continued working at the other.

Shuddery bursts of heat raced down Klaus's spine, the urge to shift and squirm so hard to deny. It would have been terribly undignified, though, and if he did, he feared that all control over his rebelling body would be lost to the soaring glory of sensations he'd never felt before. Dorian never paused, however; only continued with his ministrations, leaving a wet trail between the first nipple and the second that avoided the gauze bandage there as he shifted his focus of attack. Somehow, miraculously, his hands were all over Klaus, feathering over thighs, rubbing lightly at the stiff erection that had been pressed to his own belly since the first breathed word, whispered kiss, and *GOD* it felt good even through the cotton cloth, hard and hot and thick and throbbing and he wanted Klaus desperately, then, but he didn't stop what he was doing, only began to kiss lower slowly, abandoning his chest and moving to his belly.

"That tickles," Klaus panted in warning. Dorian could feel tight muscle, covered with warm skin, shiver, clenching for a moment in reaction to the soft huff of laughter Klaus gave. "Ohhh, Dorian, do..." More of everything, the hand on his crotch, the wonderful mouth that was kind enough to skirt his dressing and any scars, staying on the track of the most sensitive skin.

"I want to please you," Dorian moaned, and it was a breathy, delicious sound that wafted over his navel, teasing at the small hairs there even as his pajama pants were opened, tugged at, pushed down and out of the way.

A quiet gasp as cooler air from the room hit his groin in a soft rush, and he hitched his hips up for a moment, unknowingly aiding Dorian in slipping down his pajamas. "You're.. pleasing..."

"Good," came the almost-purred words, and then there was no need for them, indeed, no possibility of them as those soft lips captured the tip of Klaus's cock, sliding firmly over the head even as fingers lightly tugged the foreskin further down.

Klaus was a very clean man, which was quite a delightful change from some of the other lovers Dorian had kept up with years before. Nearly utterly clean, except for a little fluid around the tip that was fresh from the effects of Dorian's arousing touches. He'd had blow-jobs before, but never one so slow and careful, given out of pleasure, love, and a want to please, rather than cash incentive. Even as he groaned, hands coming up helplessly to touch golden curls, Dorian was pressing downward, taking the shaft into his mouth in exquisitely pressured strokes, fingers lightly cupping the heady weight of his balls to squeeze them tenderly as each stroke took more of Klaus into his mouth until finally, he was up to his nose in dark glossy curls and an almost ripple came as his exquisite blond lover *swallowed* around him.

"Dorian, I can't..." Skilled lover would have been an understatement -- this was skill and knowledge combined with on target touches to Klaus's sensitive spots. They were nearly everywhere, when he was as relaxed with someone as he was with Dorian then. "I can't... Gott, Dorian, please!" And oh, it didn't stop, but only got better as the other man shifted, bringing his mouth up off of him and plunging it down again, touching him so intimately, so wonderfully...!

His breathing was so far up in his chest that each gasping breath felt like it was being taken and let out from some place outside of his body, but Klaus didn't want to do such a disgusting thing to Dorian, didn't want to choke him with that thick release he knew was close in coming. It was something that whores barely deserved, and certainly not Dorian! There was no fighting it, though, not with the way that Eroica was urging it on, working it from him, and then it was there, no matter that he didn't want to spill in Dorian's mouth, there and coming from him in thick gouts unlike anything he'd ever known, the entirety of his body seized with the utter pleasure of it as he cried out hoarsely, fingers wrapping tightly in those curls as a last resort to keep from coming down the tight hot throat swallowing him.

Aching ragged breaths filled the air, Klaus's body tense and arched so that his weight was up on his shoulders. He wasn't sure through the haze if he'd succeeded in saving Dorian from that indignity, but he couldn't make his finger untwine from those tempting strands of gold hair that he held.

"Oh, darling." The sound of it was husky, filled with desire, still, and with an infinite amount of adoration as Dorian's hands came up to rub lightly at the ones in his hair, drawing them loose as he slid up Klaus's body and kissed him, full on the lips. Klaus tasted it then -- foreign, a tang of slick salt and musk that he'd only experienced by accident before. Now, he was tasting his own, as he kissed Dorian thoroughly, savoring the slick slip of tongue into the thief's mouth as if trying to get more, so strange, and he'd already broken so many social taboos that it was too late to turn back, wasn't it?

"That was wonderful," Dorian whispered against his lips, giving him another nipping kiss that was just as drugging before reaching down to shift Klaus's pajamas back into position. "Mmm, darling, you taste..." He sighed, kissing Klaus again. "So good."

"That was too much. You didn't have to..." Klaus protested in a shiver of breath, as he wrapped his arms around Dorian's body, holding him close. "I don't.. think that I can, but..." /I'm willing to try./

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he was told tenderly, gathered up against Dorian's chest as the other man slid slightly to the side, erection brushing against Klaus's hip slightly. "Not unless you decide you might like it, but even if you never do, that's all right, too."

"Let me try."

The agreement that came was easy enough, hands caressing over him still. "All right. But if you feel the need to stop..."

"I will." Klaus moved slowly to be atop Dorian, urging his partner over onto his back to make it easier -- Klaus remembered what Dorian had done, and began an easy mimicry of touch by first taking off Dorian's shirt, rolling it up and letting one hand skim over smooth chest to simply enjoy the feel of it beneath his hand.

"Oh, my darling," Dorian sighed, arching up slightly. He was harder than a rock, and the mere touch of Klaus's hands on him after so long drove him to distraction. Between his celibacy of nearly nine years and the fact that he'd masturbated once in the past month (and gotten caught at it, besides), he was going to have difficulty holding on for very long, so perhaps that was for the best because Klaus very likely wouldn't know what to do yet if he tried to pleasure Dorian for any length of time. Yes, faster was better in this case, for Klaus's sanity...

"Soft as rose-petals," he mused quietly, bending over Dorian's flawless chest to take one rosy nipple in his lips.

Fingers threaded lightly through black silken strands, Dorian giving little sounds of encouragement and pleasure as teeth very gently rolled a nipple between them, and he couldn't help himself as his hips rocked, his entire body squirming with pleasure. "Ahh!"

No taste, really, but the pleasure of it came from Dorian's spine-tingling reaction. He moved quickly to the other nipple, while letting his hands thread down to Dorian's shorts, pushing that flimsy cloth down.

"Oh, God, Klaus, oh, yes," came the whimper as tentative fingers closed around him and Dorian desperately rocked to meet them, biting down hard on his lip as every nerve in his body seemed to become attuned to those two places -- the nipple at which Klaus was suckling and the incredibly hot feeling of his lover touching his cock, the caress of that work and gun-callused hand over his soft skin, the silk over the steel hard shaft, utterly maddening. It was something Dorian had thought would never happen, never expected to happen from Klaus of all people. The head lifted from his nipple, and still stroking tentatively, Klaus slid down to take one risky taste.

"Aaahhhhhh!!!!" It was a strangled noise, barely gotten out, and Dorian bit down hard on his lip to try and retain some semblance of control. "Klaus... oh, *GOD*, that feels so... feels so... oh, GOD, *YES*!"

It was just the barest of touches, a dart of tongue against swollen tip, as he pulled down at the foreskin with his thumb to reveal more red-flushed skin. Not a bad taste, really -- strong, but it wasn't horrid. Better than Russian food... Eyes closing, Klaus took another lick, before he lowered his mouth down over the head of Dorian's cock to suck carefully, teeth only half pulled back in.

Dorian gave a hiss, not sure he had the heart to stop him. The spark of pain, though, mixed with the unbelievable pleasure, gave him the will to say huskily, "Darling, you might not want to do that, you might not want to, to, to swallow, and oh, *GOD*, I'm not going to be able to stop if you do, I'm not, oh, God, oh, God, oh, *KLAUS*, I love you madly, oh, I can't, can't, it's so intense, I..." He was babbling, he knew it, but it felt so *incredible*, and he just knew he couldn't take much more, even after so little!

Soft little pulses of suction didn't falter, or Klaus's exploration of the head, tongue swiping against the tiny hole at the tip, squirming between foreskin and cockhead, sucking all the while, trying to work more into his mouth -- and completely unsure of how much would be too much for him to take. So, for the moment it was very little, and no thought at all in his mind as to what he was doing. Just giving his lover pleasure, and incredible pleasure it was, for he was concentrating on the most fantastically sensitive place Dorian could imagine! The beautiful thief was almost sobbing with pleasure, and his hands roamed Klaus everywhere he could reach, beyond coherence now and close, so close, even though he was trying desperately not to explode in that mouth! Ah, it was hopeless, though, because a pause and a lick followed by the exquisite feeling of one of those hands on him was, in the end, combined with another of those soft suckles, and he yelled out just before he came, the closest he could come to a warning in his state.

Klaus hadn't been expecting it, that sudden hard spurt into his mouth of the still mostly unfamiliar fluid. He drew back after the first one, choking slightly from when he'd tried to breath just as it had come. It made him open his eyes, though, and despite the coughing choke, he looked at Dorian's body and face, so tightly bound in its pleasure, the blond man... oh, a beauty he didn't deserve.

"Oh, God, darling," Dorian whispered a moment or two later. "I've died and gone to heaven. It's the only answer. Come and kiss me..."

"A... a moment," he excused, still coughing. Finally he used the sheets there were loose at the end of the bed to wipe the edges of his mouth, then shifted off the bed to get tissues to clean up the spill-over.

When he came back, Dorian apologized sleepily. "I'm sorry, darling. I should've warned you sooner, only I thought I could hold it at least another little while..."

"I should have expected," Klaus murmured, having gotten a drink of water from the bathroom while he got tissues. Now he used them to wipe tenderly, and they were tossed aside into the trash can in the room, before he crawled into bed again. "It wasn't so bad."

Quietly, Dorian curled against his side, pajamas in place once again. "I love you so much," he whispered a bit shakily. "I've loved you for forever. I will love you always, my Klaus."

"Yes..." Now he was feeling tired, down from the adrenaline of before. It let him get comfortable with Dorian pressed so close against him. "In the morning, we will..." A yawn covered the rest of what he'd been saying.

"In the morning," Dorian promised, kissing him sweetly on the lips. "In the morning."

In the morning... so many mornings lay before them, spread out in a wonderful bliss.

~~~~~

The last bag was on the front step, the little black Porsche only steps away, and Dorian looked moderately miserable. "I hate to go home, darling, but what can one do?" He shrugged. "I know, I know. It's best. Can I come back again sometime? I'm truly dying to dust off that bed and painting upstairs."

"I think next time I can organize leave, you *will* be back here," Klaus murmured, tossing his own bag -- clothes, guns, a few books -- into the back of his Benz.

"Well," came the reply with a bit of forced cheer, "I'll see you, darling." And oh, how he wanted to see him, every morning, every day for the rest of their lives!

Klaus couldn't muster up a smile. Instead, he said solemnly, "Dorian... we will find a way, and time, to be together again."

"I know," his lover replied solemnly. The week between the night they'd made love to each other and this morning seemed as if it had been no more than a handful of hours, barely enough, and it had been interrupted by the obnoxious and aggravating presence of the woman that Klaus's father had sent to attempt to marry him off for the sake of the family name. "At the very least, you know where to find me," he said, beginning to pull himself up into his usual cheer. "You've got all of the usual numbers and I know that Bonham will keep an ear out!"

"There's a mission coming down the line within a week," Klaus warned carefully. Both the mission and the way they would have to act around each other... "Perhaps I can get a few days leave after that is done."

"Just let me know," Dorian replied with a wink and a small. "And I'll be there, just like always. No one will know."

"No one but you and I, Dorian, and I think that is enough." he stepped closer, knowing that they had privacy in the enclosed garage. "A kiss, before you leave..."

"You mad, mad man," Dorian whispered, arms wrapping around his neck, mouth offered for the kiss. That gesture, at least, was one with which Klaus was now familiar -- and responded to perfectly, with equal fervor each and every time. No kiss was a thing abused or ignored; each one was a slow, pleased exploration.

When they broke apart, it was reluctant at best, utterly grudging at worst, and definitely not what either of them would have liked. "I'll see you in a week or so, darling. Just let me know the details, if you need me, and I'll be right there."

"I know." Because it was love to run head-long into death or worse, for your loved one... "Thank you, Dorian. For these past weeks... have been the best in my life."

"I'll make the rest of them even better," Dorian promised. "We will fight, and we will make up, and we will love madly, and it will be the most wonderful thing ever to exist between two people."

"Your romanticism is silly, Dorian... Lord Gloria. But appreciated." Another kiss, just a peck now, and Klaus pulled back at last. "I won't deny you."

"Goodbye, darling," Dorian said sadly, reaching for his luggage. "See you soon."

"Yes, you will." Never one for drawn out goodbyes, this one had already gone on for two goodbyes too long. Klaus slid into his Benz, rubbing his palms over the steering wheel before he adjusted the seat slightly for his minor height difference from Dorian's. Then he had the garage door open, and pulled out, with the Porsche following after him.

For most of the way to Bonn, Dorian was right behind him, just as fast, and just as capable of handling that little light car that was such a foppish thing to be driving. The roads twisted and turned, but they kept to them, and Klaus only lost sight of him when he made the turn to the airport just north of the city, a fact that made him sigh. From there, he navigated the roads alone, almost desperately hoping for someone to start tailing him so that he could lose them. It didn't happen, though, and he parked in the office's parking lot, mounting the stairs to his office for the first time in weeks. As he stepped into the office, all activity seemed to come to a stop at the mere sight of him, sound buzzing through the office momentarily before quieting off, most of his Alphabet curious to see him, not to mention the rest of the building! Just to be sure that Iron Klaus was still Iron Klaus, after all, despite the rumors of illness still circling around.

"What are all of you doing? Get back to work!" he snapped, striding through the neat rows of desks, taking his jacket off and tossing it onto the coat-rack outside of his office door, which he slammed behind him once he was inside.

Damn, but it felt good to do that!

He sat down in his chair and looked at the paperwork scattered everywhere. Five weeks had certainly been plenty of time for the wretched stuff to accumulate! Sighing, Klaus reached to pick up one of the files on top, but a knock came on the door just then instead. "Come in." A bark of ordered words, and he looked up to the door to see who was coming in.

It was Z, the young German man smiling at him as he came into the office, leaving the door partially open behind him. "Welcome back, sir. We've missed you," he said calmly.

He'd missed them, too -- though, mostly Z and A, perhaps a little of B... but it wasn't going to be said. "Close the door behind you, Z, and tell me what I have missed." A flat gesture to the paperwork, conveying how likely it was that Klaus would ignore it all.

"Pretty basically, we've spent five weeks catching up on just that, sir," Z told him once the door was closed. "Paperwork. Once the last mission was taken care of, they didn't hand down another. Most of the stuff on your desk is just for review."

"That's it?" Review meant he could use them to line his trash can, for all the use they were. "Pathetic. And new missions...?"

"One today, sir, that's why they wanted you back this week," Z told him, nodding firmly. In a way, he resembled Dorian -- or perhaps not, perhaps it was just the blond hair and blue eyes. Yes, that was it, the loveliness of Dorian with a somber attitude. Perhaps that was why he liked Z. "Still, they only want you in for half days, and I'm not sure what it is yet. The Chief wouldn't say."

"He never does. Has he told you when he will?" Klaus asked evenly, getting up from his desk to sweep a pile of paperwork into the trash-can.

"This morning, sometime," Z said. "He told us we should be ready to call Eroica."

"Wonderful. What makes him want to spite me so?" Klaus snorted, moving to the filing cabinet to actually put a few pieces of the shitty paperwork away. "Has there been any trouble while I was gone?"

Z was already shaking his head, though. "Nothing for our department, sir. It's almost like the entire espionage community went on vacation."

"And the Alphabets...?" It happened sometimes, that the Russians were quiet. Small blessing, if boring, when they were.

"Lost without you, sir, but A and I kept them mostly in line."

"Good." Back in the routine of his office, the urge to smoke returned -- tenfold, which was terrible for him. His fingers twitched restlessly for a moment, and he looked at Z. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Z said, standing and heading for the door, pausing only once before opening. "If I might say so, it wasn't the same without you, sir."

"Probably quieter. Dismissed." It was kind, the acknowledgment of those words, a little startling for Z, but the dismissal, a second time, more insistent, was familiar.

With a nod, Z turned and left his office, striding back out and giving a small thumbs-up to A as he passed by the other man's desk.

Things were back to normal, then.

~~~~~~~

The call from the Chief had come only moments after Z had left his office, and Klaus had gone up fairly promptly to hear the details, which were about what he would have expected when he'd heard the name 'Eroica' from Z's lips, anyway.

Simple-seeming mission that would probably turn into a fiasco, compete with being centered around a safe rigged with explosives that the thief had to break into.

It was hard to hide concern and feign hatred and disgust.

"NO! Absolutely NOT! I WON'T work with that... that..."

"Pervert?" the Chief filled in almost cheerfully. His supply of Maalox was just as full as his recently received supply of chocolates and he'd had five weeks without Major Eberbach to drive him mad. He could afford to be a little cheerful.

"YES! That fucking pervert!" Klaus roared, finally catching the trail of his usual rant and running with it -- using every curse and insult that he could think of quickly. It was exhaustive, that rant, and when he was finished, he hoped to God that no one would ever question why the thief recovered with him at Schloss Eberbach.

Hell, no one could possibly have the sheer *balls* after that one.

"Tough luck," the Chief told him simply, looking across the way. "He's the best contractor for the job and you're the one responsible for him. End of story."

"How did I end up responsible for that queer?" He hissed, anger seething out from his eyes at the chief.

"He's good at his job, and I like him, and you, Major, need to loosen up."

"Loosen *up*?!" He stood now from the chair, knowing that if he backed down now, it would look suspicious. "I do not need to loosen up!"

"Have a good mission, Major!" the Chief replied, ignoring him.

On his way out the door, Klaus slammed the door so hard that finally, after years of trying to do so, he shattered the pane of glass that bore the chief's name.

Yes, today was another good day!

~~~~~

Paris was a hellish bustle of humanity. It inevitably was, of course, but Klaus was never any happier to see it again.

As he and A waited in the hotel bedroom for the contracted thief to arrive, Klaus prayed there would be at least one good shooting. These kinds of missions, with so little between them and the objective, tended to be so dull...

/But I'll be on my toes pretending that I still hate Dorian./ Funny, to think that he had to pretend, or that he was ever pretending. It had seemed real... yet this emotion of wanting the thief in his arms again, of missing him after a scant seven days, was more real than anything that had ever come before. "Have you looked at the floor plan?" he asked A in an irritable tone of voice as he unholstered his gun and began to clean it. Eroica was late, and he had to feign irritation to cover concern.

"Yes, sir," A replied solemnly as a knock came on the door, prompting him to get up and answer it.

The blond thief breezed into the room almost as if he were floating, expression utterly and completely joyful. "*DARLING*, it's been too terribly long! And here you are, waiting for me, and oh, there's a *bed*! Just what we need. A, do be a treasure, won't you, and don't let him kill me? He looks furious. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that last part..."

"Shut up. Sit down. You're late and we've wasted enough time waiting for you," Klaus snarled. Oh, how he wanted to laugh. He wanted to just break down laughing...

"My, my," Dorian said tragically. "Darling, really, it's only fifteen minutes, and it's not like I was out doing anything you'd disapprove of. Well, no, I *did* steal a few diamonds on the way, but they were really so nice, and I could hardly resist..." Not that he actually HAD, he'd had to deal with James. He really was fond of his stingy little accountant, but...!

"Don't *tell* me these things!" Klaus snapped. There, that was nearly genuine -- he hated to be reminded of what Dorian's true profession was, whether the man was joking, or not. "Pay attention, you damned queer -- look over these floor plans, and then the schematics for the safe."

"I've already seen them, darling," Dorian said, flashing him a smile as he pulled out the set Bonham had gotten him. "But we'll compare to be sure, hm? It's not a very old model, but neither is it one of the newer ones. Shouldn't be a problem, aside from the bomb, and at least if it goes off, it shouldn't take out more than the office. Not EVERYONE at that party will be a Soviet, and I'd rather innocents not die if I get clumsy fingers."

"I'd rather you didn't get clumsy fingers," Klaus growled. "I will be there when you break the safe." Another risk, one he didn't want to think of... "If you are so well prepared, then get out. Be at the meeting point at 1900 hours, and we will infiltrate."

"Yes, darling," Dorian caroled, desperately wishing to kiss him, but flitting off with the instructions -- AND his watch. "See you soon!" He blew the other man a kiss, and was gone.

It seemed to be no-nonsense, that Dorian would keep contact between them at a minimum for Klaus's ease...

It seemed that way right up to the moment Klaus checked his wrist to note the time, and how long it was 'til 1900 hours, and realized his watch was gone. "EROICA!!!!" A cringed, closing both of his eyes before peeking out again.

Only the sound of laughter came from far down the hall.

"God dammit!" A snarl, and Klaus kicked the table, nearly knocking it over. "Give me your watch, A."

"Yes, sir," A sighed, stripping the thing off and handing it to him. Well... at least the Major was back, and life with the Major and Eroica was never dull! ^_^

"That fucking queer will get the lights smashed out of him the moment this mission is over," Klaus was muttering to himself. No, in reality he'd get chewed out and then he'd be seeing stars of a completely different sort, and oh, God, how Dorian would love that!

"Er... yes, sir," A agreed. "Ah, about the back-up... perhaps if we went over that one more time?"

"Yes -- I don't want you Alphabets fouling up and getting caught," Klaus told him without patience.

"Yes, sir, Major Eberbach!" They went to work, and A couldn't help but smile to himself. It really *was* good to have him back.

~~~~~

Perhaps A hadn't noticed the minor difference of the Major's actions, but Z had -- and Z, too, knew of Dorian's stay with the Major. It made him politely curious, and though Z wasn't a gossip monger, he did enjoy knowing what was going on in the office. When the opportunity presented itself to catch Dorian alone, sitting at a table in the Hotel's private Cafe, he couldn't resist sliding into the table to sit across from him, with a cup of coffee as his excuse for being there.

"Lord Gloria... good to see that you're well again."

"Z! You angel. I hope things have been well with you, darling, especially during those *ghastly* weeks you were without the Major," Dorian said cheerfully, lifting his own cup to his lips and swallowing. "I can only imagine how lovely it must be NOT to hear him yelling at you or for you or even because of you!"

"It was... different. And how did you fare in the face of all that?" Z asked politely, taking a small sip.

"I'm here," Dorian declared, "walking, talking, and even a few other things, too, so I survived. It was actually not so bad," he confided, unable to help himself. "He slept a lot." Which was also true, even though it wasn't the *entire* truth!

"I can't imagine the horror of the Major trying to rest," Z commented with a tiny smile. "Eager to get back to work...?"

"Would *you* return to work less than two months after a surgeon cracked your chest open? No," Eroica said. "And neither would I. The Major, however, is unlike any other man on earth, and a masochist to boot, so here we all are, back at work again, and I, for one, am quite delighted to do just that." He didn't even stop to breathe! "After all, wouldn't want anyone thinking that perhaps we'd lost our touch, now would we, Z?"

"I don't think the Major will ever lose his touch," Z commented. "How did you stand him for so long...?"

"Why, I love him!" Dorian said cheerfully, and that was nothing new -- he'd been saying it for almost ten years, after all. "Naturally I would put up with him, for all the good it does me." Ah, but he was good-natured about it, as always!

"You must be masochistic, Lord Gloria," Z mused. "The Major... well, his vacation did him some good. His spirits have been better than I've seen them in a long time."

Dorian placed an elbow on the table, hand supporting his chin as he leaned over with a sly smirk. "Of course I'm a masochist, darling, or I wouldn't still be *chasing*, now would I? Though I'm glad he seems to feel better, he was certainly cranky enough before. Being ill sometimes changes people, you know, and even for the better."

"Do you think... he'll take up smoking again?"

"If he does," Eroica said slowly, "why, we'll just have to be sure to sabotage his every attempt to do so. I don't think he will, though. In five weeks, he's only picked them up again once, and he didn't have a lighter, so he tossed them away. It had been a tremendously bad day, so..."

Z caught the trail end of that and ran with it, "So, you and he have... reconciled? Truce?"

"Do you honestly believe he'd put up with me if I hadn't forced myself on him?" That seemed a little wistful, and the other man sat back. "Well, darling, when it's a choice between me and servants, it's not much of a choice, you know. Temporary truce. Besides..." Dorian dangled Klaus's watch with a merry gleam in his eyes. "You know how he feels about these things."

"Oh! You should give that back right away, Lord Gloria!" Z protested. "He'll strangle you, good mood or not!" There went his suspicion, right out the window...

Dorian just laughed. "I'll give it back to him tonight! I'd just as soon not face a black eye while carrying on this evening, darling, don't you know?"

"Just when things seemed to be going smoothly," the poor agent groaned. "Things keep up like this, and he will take up smoking again!"

"Better this than the Mona Lisa," came the protest. "Besides. It was just to irk him a bit. He needed a bit of *bite* to him this evening, don't you agree? Here. I'll even let you keep it," Dorian soothed, "and YOU can give it back to him, because I'M not going up there!"

"That would make things so much easier," Z sighed unhappily, reaching a hand out to take it. Ohhh, he was going to get yelled at...

"It will be all right," Dorian told him with a wink. "You're one of his favorites. At least your eye won't be black when he's done with you!"

"I might wish it was," Z moaned as he pocketed Klaus's treasured watch. "You haven't bugged it, have you?"

Oh, GOD, those cerulean eyes were wide with innocence! "Would *I* do a thing like that?"

"Yes -- to his belt, once," Z pointed out, still frowning. "I don't want to end up in Alaska..."

"I didn't bug it, just for you. I wouldn't want you to end up in Alaska, either," Dorian said, reaching to pat his cheek. "You're such a nice boy!"

Z only paled slightly, though, letting out a sigh as Dorian touched his face. "I'm still amazed you didn't get beat up when you were with him in the castle."

"That makes two of us," came the cheerful agreement. "But here I am, and isn't that nice? Now, do be a good boy and take it up, won't you?"

"Yes..." He sighed unhappily again, and got up from the table, leaving his cup half finished and there, watch firmly in his pocket. It didn't take much trouble to find the Major again, still in his room, Probably checking over his guns. He knocked once, and the Major told him to come in.

"What do you want, Z?"

"Ahhh." Z swallowed. Might as well get it over with, and with any luck, he wouldn't be sent on to Alaska! "I saw Eroica downstairs and, um, appropriated your wristwatch, sir."

"Good." That was all that he was going to get? Just 'good', and Klaus holding out his hand for it?!

Sweating slightly, Z handed it over, glancing at A quizzically as if to say, /Is he ill?/

A only glanced over with wide eyes, shrugging tightly so as not to be caught.

"Tell Eroica to stop wasting time in the cafe and to get ready," Klaus growled, putting it back in place, and tossing A his watch back.

"Yes, sir!" Z said, scurrying for the door. Well, he certainly wasn't going to stay any longer than he had to with the Major in such a strange mood, that was for sure! He *did* feel a little sorry for A, though...

"Tell me your gut feeling on this mission, A," Klaus requested, putting the ammunition back into his magnum.

"I think it'll come out in the end, Major. It's not too difficult, aside from the bomb, and Eroica is very good at what he does, sir," A said thoughtfully.

"What makes you trust the thief like that?"

The answer was slow, serious. "He's never failed us before, sir, and, urm, well, he wouldn't fail YOU, sir."

"Why are you sure he would not fail me?" Hard, flat questioning that made A worry.

A swallowed hard, thinking of his words carefully. "Ah, well, he's been pursuing you for almost ten years, Major, and he hasn't failed you yet, has he? It seems like a logical conclusion..."

"Why is it logical -- tell me." A was now sure he was going to get pounded -- flat, into a wall!

/Alaska, here I come./ "He loves you, Major," A said flatly. "We all know it, and we all know he'd die if you asked him to."

"That sort of thing is dangerous," Klaus murmured, sitting back a little, perhaps too calmly, in his chair. So, it was obvious to everyone then.

"Yes, sir," A agreed, "but I don't think you have to worry about it. Everyone knows how you feel about his pursuit, and the Russians think it's amusing to watch him run after you, so..."

"Do you think the Russians do not take him seriously? I hate having a civilian at risk for such idiocy." He wanted to smoke just then, lean back and relax for a few minutes, but it wasn't going to happen.

"Sir, rumor has it that the Bear laughs every time his name is mentioned and asks whether he's... er, managed to 'lay' you yet," A replied, swallowing.

No anger. No reaction. "In your opinion, A, if he were to ever hear a yes, would he hurt that damned thief?"

"In my opinion, sir, he'd laugh like hell and tell everyone he knew," A answered. "If he thought you were serious about it, though..." His voice trailed off into silence.

"If he ever thought that, then Eroica would be an easy target to get to me," Klaus finished for A.

"Yes, Major."

"If something were to happen to me, do you believe he would still pursue Eroica?"

"No, sir," A said softly, the light of understanding filling his eyes. "Not so long as Eroica didn't do anything to involve himself in the political situation."

/He never would./ "Good." Stiffly said, but wholly felt by the Major, as he looked at his subordinate with a less heavy glare than usual. Almost a tired searching for understanding.

"If anything were to happen, Major, we would make sure that things would be right for Eroica," A offered solemnly. He wouldn't cheapen the conversation by suggesting that nothing would happen -- after all, anything could and would happen in their line of work, and suggesting that it would not would be purely idiotic.

"Do you think he's in a position of risk?"

"Sir, as you know, Eroica would involve himself whether you liked it or not. It's his nature."

"I have... done things that unwittingly lend him more towards involvement," Klaus said after a short silence. Now, now A would understand.

"Yes, sir," A said gently. "I understand. We'll make sure no harm comes to him in any event."

"Thank you." A phrase that seldom passed Klaus's lips, as he rose to his feet to look out the room's window with a hard, surveying gaze. They weren't being watched -- not a soul had noticed them yet. "Go get ready now, A. I need time to prepare."

A nodded, glad to see his superior doing what was necessary. "Yes, Major. And Major? It... I understand."

"I don't." He was already moving towards the closet, though, to find his tuxedo -- the mission was beginning.

By the time he arrived downstairs to meet with the others, Eroica had arrived, as well. The blond thief was also dressed in a tuxedo, blond hair pulled back into a braid tipped by black velvet ribbon, and there was an extravagant deep red shawl tossed over one shoulder, the material woven with rich silks to include brilliant blue and green birds that almost seemed capable of flying right off of the thing. "Darling!!! There you are!!!" he said cheerfully, reaching up to fluff a curl that had escaped its temporary prison back out of his face.

"Shut up! Follow me; unit, split." Three sharp orders -- the first and second to Dorian, the third to them as a whole. "I will drive, Eroica."

"If you insist, Major," Eroica replied, rolling his eyes slightly as if the Major was a vague but very attractive irritant. A didn't believe it for a minute!

"No stunts, or I'll throw you out the door..."

It was the last thing the Alphabets heard before Klaus had stormed out of hearing range with the thief in tow.

The car was not what Klaus would have liked -- for one thing, it was Italian, and for another, it was a lovely deep blue, and Dorian's innocent expression said a lot about THAT. "Sorry, darling, but a Benz would completely give you away, you know!"

"As if this doesn't give you away," Klaus growled, sliding into the driver's seat after he looked it over for bugs. "We will wait an hour -- then I will go up. I'll wait in the hallway, looking at the paintings. Five minutes after I leave, you leave -- and then we will get into that safe."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, already seated, door shut behind him. "Do I get a kiss, or do I have to wait for later?" he teased, winking. What the hell, it couldn't hurt to ask, could it? The windows were tinted, and it was dark, so maybe he COULD have one, sometime.

"After the mission." He didn't want his mind in that mode, the mode where all he could think of was Dorian, touching him, kissing, laying beneath him on the bed, a boneless pile of lean beauty... Klaus soon found himself thinking of every unarousing thing possible -- his Chief. His Chief naked. His Chief naked with G... There, solved.

"Hmmm," Dorian agreed quietly, letting his own mind run rampant. Perhaps tonight, they'd get farther than before. Still, there were other things to think about, so between notions of Klaus's nakedness, he contemplated the type of safe and the difficulty he might have in opening it. /No problem./

"After the mission, I will request a three-day pass," Klaus said, pulling the car smoothly out of the parking lot.

Oh, if he could have seen the smile on Eroica's face then! "Good," he nearly purred, voice rough with delight. "We'll need it."

"Don't tell me what you're thinking," Klaus warned, rolling up to the stop-light.

"I wouldn't dream of it," came the airy reply, obviously delighted. "I see Z gave you back your watch."

"He hasn't noticed a change. A knows, though," Klaus informed him, taking off the instant the light turned.

Dorian turned to look at him. "Z noticed, but I led him off with the watch, darling. He turned nearly white, thinking he would be going off to Alaska if you caught him with me!" He grinned. "He wanted to know if I'd bugged it, you know."

"I wouldn't doubt it if you told me you have," Klaus snorted, letting up on the gas a little. "A assures me that if something happens to me, you will be kept safe."

"If something happens to you..." Dorian trailed off into silence momentarily. "I wouldn't want to be kept safe. If something happens, I hope that it happens to me, too."

"Don't be a romantic idiot," Klaus sighed.

"Yes, Klaus," was the reply, though it wasn't meant. Eroica's life had revolved around art and Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach forever, and if one or the other was taken away, then what use was anything else?

"You know very well that you would have your team if something were to happen to me."

"I know, darling," Dorian replied, "but I'm not sure anything would be worth pursuing without you."

"You would manage, Dorian." The conversation, half already played out in his own mind, was easy to hold as they drove, not a turn missed or light ran. "Even dead, your safety is my first concern."

The response that came from Eroica was deadly quiet. "I understand. Klaus, perhaps this isn't the best time for this conversation. I'm afraid I'm going to have to be very calm to open that thing, and this conversation..." He paused, took a deep breath. "I can't think of being without you, ever, until later, all right?"

"We will be fine this mission, Dorian. It is already planned out flawlessly." He moved a hand from the gearshift for a moment to touch the thief's knee, a light ghosting of fingers over clothed skin.

Another of those deep breaths and then a sigh. "Hmm, it shouldn't be a problem. I've got all of the plans memorized, and Bonham managed to get me at least part of the code with surveillance, so we had ought to be just fine."

"He did?" Klaus looked a little surprised. "Your men plan well!"

That gained a faint chuckle. "Darling, I told you I'm the best thief in the world. Honestly, there's a reason why!"

"And I thought it was your natural skill..." A gentle tease, as they finally found themselves on flat road, headed away from the city -- towards the place the party was being held.

"Oh, well, that has a great deal to do with it, of course," he was informed almost arrogantly. "I mean, Jamesie is a thief, too, and he's MISERABLE at it, sometimes, darling."

"The little money-bug is a thief?" Klaus asked with a wicked, laughing glint in his eyes.

"Darling, who d'you think stole that hundred marks your Chief whined about for years?" Dorian laughed. "He scrounged up all but the last hundred from the case you tossed out of the plane with us and went to steal it from you! Luckily, your Chief came in and was a much easier target! Poor Jamesie, he really couldn't bear the thought of that lost hundred..."

"Good for him," Klaus smiled. He *hated* his chief, a fact that wasn't little known in the least. He all but shouted it regularly. "What else has he stolen?"

"He pinches pennies 'til they SQUEAL, darling. You name it, he's thieved it, so long as it's cheap!" Dorian laughed. "I DO try to keep him from stealing from you, but he detests you, darling."

"I know he lifted my wallet once." Klaus had nearly shaken the little thing senseless to get it back. "He can detest me all he wants, as long as I don't have to see him."

Dorian smiled and laid his head back against the headrest. "Sorry, darling, but I'm afraid we're a mixed package. As irritating as he CAN be, he's very efficient, and besides, who else would have him?"

"No one but you. But he'll never set foot inside of Schloss Eberbach, understand?"

"Yes, darling!" And oh, that sounded cheerful, but Dorian *was* happy -- after all, he was with Klaus, and he was going to steal something. What could be better? ^_^

Klaus darted him a wary glance as they rolled into the drive, and had to get out after parking it. He refused to let a valet do it for them, claiming the car to be too good to be touched by servants, a fact that gained a wildly giddy laugh from Eroica -- oh, and it was definitely Eroica! Dorian, when in private, was actually a marvelous companion, not partial to flaunting himself even half as much as he did in public, but once they were open and with other people...

Well.

By the time they'd reached the front door, the valets were in love with him, and he was *flaming*, practically dripping homosexuality as he went. That was Eroica, though, and that was the part he needed to play -- silly, stupid, foppish Englishman and, God help Klaus, he was *very* *very* good at it.

It made it very hard for Klaus to reconcile the two parts -- Eroica and Dorian -- so he gave up trying, and noted to himself again that to get Dorian, he had to put up with Eroica, when on missions, at least.

They entered with falsified invitations, side by side, but Klaus refused to go in arm in arm.

"No fun," Eroica whispered, brilliant eyes gleaming as they paused in the doorway for all to see them. Oh, how he loved it, and the room was full of jewels even though none of the artwork was worth looking at! His fingers nearly twitched with joy at the thought!

"We're not here for that," Klaus whispered stiffly as they descended the steps, looking for eyes to catch and people to seem to mingle with until the hour passed.

"Ta, darling," Eroica bid, and then he was gone through the crowd, though it wasn't hard to keep him in sight with that lovely red shawl shining so brightly and catching so very much attention!

That left Klaus alone and looking lost for a moment, before he decided the punch-bowl was as good a place to start as any and headed in that direction. Quite a few people had decided that it would be a good place for conversation, as well, no few of them women, and women with an eye out for a good-looking man, which Klaus obviously was.

He was pouring a glass of wine for himself -- French of course, but it was decent -- when he felt a light hand touch on his lower arm. /Here goes another fifty four minutes.../

"Hello, darling," and oh, God, he knew that purr, knew just who was pressed slightly against him, caught the sound of that smile before Eroica reached past and plucked up a glass of punch, turning away to indulgently smile at a woman who looked as if she was going to faint with sheer joy because he was doing so!

Damn him! Klaus wasn't there to be distracted, and he wasn't there to have Dorian around him at all times. Come in with him, yes, but if one disappeared, and then the other, with both of them close to each other all evening... Far too suspicious!

Dorian was gone, though, already back in the crowd, and perhaps he wouldn't return again, if Klaus was lucky. He downed the wine quickly, expression slightly grim. That helped to keep the women glancing at him from coming forward to speak -- a figurative breastwork, that scowl, practically bristling!

/Fifty-two.../ He poured another glass, trying to look casual for the mission's sake. It wouldn't do to ruin the mission by letting his glare give him away.

The time flew by for Dorian, who danced quite a lot and actually managed to steal a bracelet or three, which rather made him happy. It was mostly to keep in practice -- the first bracelet was placed on the wrist of the second woman when he took *her* bracelet, and the second was placed on the third woman and then he danced with the first again and gave her the bracelet of the third. It was naughty fun, but it was fun nonetheless -- the most he could have, considering that he was dancing with (ugh) women and not Klaus, which would have been MUCH more enjoyable! Still, when he glanced at his wrist and realized that it was time for him to follow Klaus, he was grateful for it, for he was rather getting sick of entertaining himself.

Easily enough, he pried himself from a lady's arms and headed for the veranda, taking a deep breath of cool air and stepping into the garden, glancing around before abandoning the red shawl carefully beneath a bush. He regretted that and sincerely hoped he'd have time to get it back -- he loved the thing, it was beautiful -- but if he didn't, well, that was that. From there, it was easy enough to walk up onto another veranda, pick the lock on the French doors, and slip inside, heading quickly in the direction he needed to go to meet Klaus.

Klaus was waiting patiently in the hallway, gun drawn discreetly, shrinking back until he realized the flash of motion was blond hair. "This hallway," Klaus hissed, gesturing to it with his head before the other man came with him.

From there, it was silence, even the gleam of white shirts not interrupting the darkness as they moved down the hall to the fourth room on the right. The door was locked, but it was only a matter of seconds before nimble fingers did away with that, the tumblers well-oiled and clicking almost silently over as he opened it and gestured Klaus inside. The door was shut behind them and locked again as they moved into the room, eyes already accustomed to the dark, Eroica searching for the safe.

Natural skill, more than anything, made Eroica who he was.

Klaus had a paranoia that kept him well honed, though, one that let him find the safe first, gesturing the other man over to it -- then he stepped back, an eye towards the door to guard the thief as he toiled.

He could hear him working, almost silent, and the tension rose in the room as Eroica went through his paces, aware that if he was off by so much as a single motion, the entire room could be demolished, and when the safe popped open, he gave an almost explosive release of breath, quiet, but obviously relieved as he swung open the door...

To find a tiny red light blinking steadily at him and the gleam of a video-camera's lens.

"[Why don't both of you smile for it,]" a voice purred at them in French from the window, popping it open at just that moment.

A set up, then.

Well, there wasn't much of a way to get around that one, Eroica decided, standing slowly, hands up where they could be seen even as he gauged the room for any other way out; unfortunately, the door to the hallway opened then, too, and they were trapped. /Figures. I'm out of luck tonight./ Possibly forever, for that matter.

"[Put down your weapon, Iron Klaus,]" the Frenchman ordered further. "[And put your hands on the back of your head. You, too, English.]"

What was there to do but obey for the moment, waiting the right time to make his move, to get them out of this set-up? Klaus did drop his gun, and then laced his fingers behind his head.

"How very remarkable," Eroica drawled slowly, refusing to speak French and taking a step away from the safe. "Well, I suppose I'd ought to be glad that there wasn't a bomb inside, hm?"

"[You will be going downstairs for a trip, the both of you. We have orders to not let you leave the premises; I think the caskets will keep you from ever leaving it... Come towards the window, now. This will look wonderful in the newspapers tomorrow.]"

"Really?" Dorian was thinking on his feet, rather. "And if you're going to put it in the papers, won't it be wondered where we got off to, if you're planning on planting the two of us six feet under, so to speak?"

"[Two men leaping from a window can be interpreted however they wish to do so,]" the Frenchman sneered, gun still trained on them as they stepped out onto the narrow balcony that he was already on.

This, Eroica decided, was *definitely* not good. "Hm, true. How very unfortunate. But tell me, you're obviously French, so what are you doing mixed up in all of this?"

"[None of your business, sweet thief,]" the Frenchman promised, even as Klaus stepped through, completely aware of the man behind, armed with a gun... certain death from a three story fall onto stone, or possibly from a bullet...

Stalling wasn't much good, but Eroica continued. "Well, it really wouldn't do any harm to tell me, now would it? After all, you're about to pitch us both over the side of the balcony, hm??"

"[I am not some two-bit movie villain,]" he was informed as the small dark man pushed him. Eroica pitched forward towards the railing, grasping it and grounding himself on the balcony floor as he tangled his feet in with the Frenchman's, taking him down with him as he did so.

/Better to be shot than tossed over,/ he decided grimly, hoping Klaus would take care of the other man.

It was the perfect distraction, and they would both agree on that later. As the one on the balcony tumbled with Dorian to the floor, Klaus elbowed the man with the gun -- snagging his weapon, dropping it quickly to keep beneath the heel of his shoe, and then he sent the agent sailing over the railing by taking the heavy weight onto his shoulder.

Stabbing pain was back to accompany that motion, one he knew his body hadn't been ready to perform. It had been necessary for both of them to survive though, or so he told himself as he stooped to get the gun, training the muzzle it on the Frenchman,. "Jump," he snarled, fingers curled with familiar over the trigger.

The man's eyes were huge and dark in his face with startlement as Eroica stood, shoulders back, and looked at him impassively. "It might be nice if you tell us where the tape is before you do that," he noted dryly. "But if you don't, we'll just have to find out some other way." God, things weren't good right now! Klaus should never have had to pick up that man, he wasn't recovered enough from surgery!

"It was on his friend's body. Z will recover it," Klaus snarled. Hopefully, the adrenaline flooding his system would keep him afloat long enough to get out of there before the pain set in too deeply. "*Jump*, or I'll shoot you and toss you over."

"[Fucking Nazi,]" the other man snarled, and seemed surprised when Eroica lashed out, backhanding the little man so hard that he hit the railing.

"Here," Dorian said coldly, "let me help you." With that, he knelt down, gathered the little man's feet and pushed him backward over the rail.

He was falling in such a way that Klaus could tell he'd live -- unlike his friend. Too little momentum, and towards the bushes. So a single shot fired out, quick, sharp and efficient, and Klaus drew back towards the window, obviously hurting. "The others have seen this -- we need to get out. They'll get the tape."

Sharply, Dorian turned, heading back into the study. "Come with me," he said softly, shaking his head. "We'll go back into the ballroom through the garden and out the front door. Try to look a bit drunk, and don't mind if I'm all over you, it'll be to hold you up. You look like you're on your last leg." And oh, he was angry with himself for Klaus's pain! If only he'd paid more attention... but there had been no way to know what was going on. It was a useless anger, he knew.

"I am." He dropped the gun of the man he'd flung, stumbling a little once he was inside the room again. "I'll drive to the meeting point so as not to gain suspicion, and then you will drive after that."

"Straight to a hospital," Dorian answered grimly.

"In time," Klaus bit out. The mission first, then... then that. He waited until Dorian was safely inside the room, and then he bolted closed the window. "Close the safe..."

The door was shut, the dial flung, and Dorian rose, hurrying towards the hall, pausing only to regain Klaus's Magnum and slip it into the holster. "As soon as we're at the meeting point. The Alphabets can follow us, Major." God, he was going to be insistent! What if one of the wires holding Klaus's ribcage together had popped? What if something was torn open!? What if...

"I'm going to be a heavy drunk," Klaus warned in a tight breath of air, eyes closing tightly as he slid an arm over Dorian's shoulder, wincing at having to make a movement like that.

"It's all right, darling," Dorian whispered. "Lean on me as much as you need."

It took some time to get back down the steps and out into the garden from the dark room Dorian had entered before, but once they were back in the ballroom, it was easy enough to pass off his friend as drunk, to pass off his own flushed cheeks as embarrassment or interrupted passion. Making their way to the car was also easy, since the valets remembered them and Dorian was incredibly cheerful as they left until they were finally alone beside the car. "I still think you should let me drive!" he said worriedly.

Klaus was quietly taking in pained breaths as he opened the driver side door, unsure if he'd split something, or just stretched out muscles too far... "No. It would look suspicious..." Then again, if he were playing at drunk...! Yes, he could do that. A fumble, made to look drunken, and the keys fell to the pebbles in the driveway. "Yes. Drive."

With relief, Dorian scooped up the keys and grabbed onto Klaus's arm gently, ushering him around to the other door and helping him into the car before moving back to the driver's side. He tried to keep calm as he slipped in, slammed the door, and waited fifteen seconds before he started the car and pulled out sedately. "Can you stand to put your seatbelt on?"

"Nein." Pressure against his chest felt like a sharp, jabbing thing, and he didn't want to press against it in case it was something best left untouched. "[It hurts too much.]"

"Then I'll be slow and careful," Dorian said bleakly, "and I'm only stopping at the meeting point long enough to tell them we're taking you to hospital."

"Ja." A quiet agreement, and Klaus sat there, leaning back a little into the seat -- when Dorian hit the bump that took them from driveway to road, the gasp he gave was searing.

/I'm going to kill them for putting him back on duty again so soon,/ Dorian decided as he sped up. /And then I'm going to kill him for being an idiot, if he doesn't die first!/

If Klaus could have heard Dorian's thoughts, he would have managed at least a little chuckle, or wanted to do so. As things were, he could feel only that sharp stabbing of pain. "This rates... at least... a three day pass..."

Dorian muttered, "I think we'll be going back to the Schloss after this one, darling," and kept driving, hitting every light dead-on and taking turns as gently as possible.

"Ja..." Green eyes were closed tight by the time they pulled into the lot where the van was -- the other car was already returning, driven by Z, two discreet bags in the back that held bodies.

Dorian only paused long enough to roll down the window. "We're heading straight to the hospital," he said sternly. "I'm afraid the major's broken something open in his chest."

"Sir?" Z asked with some concern, to only get a nod from Klaus. "Go to the civilian hospital, then. It's half an hour off. We need to clean this mess up..."

"See you there," Dorian replied, peeling out of the little lot in which they'd stopped and heading back for the road.

"I think..." Klaus gave a thick-sounding cough, eyes closing again, "That I'm bleeding."

"Just a few moments longer, darling," came the softly voiced promise. "Just a few, my love..."

"I'll be all right." It hurt terribly, though, to feel that strangeness of leaking from the inside, or so it seemed!

"You're GOING to take time off," Dorian said firmly. "And I'm taking you somewhere warm where it's just you, me and the sea. You understand? Two whole months, darling. *TWO*."

"I'll... unnnnh, go mad with boredom..." No, he wouldn't. If Dorian could talk him into it, he'd love every moment, and they both knew it.

"We'll see, Klaus," he said softly, speeding along the freeway now. "We'll see."

"I..." He let out a hiss of air, and stopped trying to talk for the moment. At least they were still alive, in better shape than last time!

"Just relax, darling. Maybe we should let the seat back," Dorian fretted, speeding up even more.

"No, I... No more pressure.. there, hard enough..."

"Of course." The worry that Klaus had probably popped one of the wires holding his ribcage closed was nearly enough to drive Dorian mad, and the drive just wouldn't go fast enough! It seemed to take forever before they were pulling up to the emergency room doors and the car was stopped so he could yell for help only to realize that he needed to yell in French.

They came out anyway, giving him a barrage of questions as to what was wrong, quick words that he answered to the best of his ability as he checked Klaus in and was promptly shuffled into a molded plastic chair that simply wasn't meant for a tall, lanky frame like his, especially when nervous and in the state he was rapidly developing. It seemed as if they'd just spirited Klaus off, with no word of what they were doing or how he was!

He was still sitting there when agents began trickling in, A and Z first. His head was buried in his hands, golden curls stolen from the tight braid he'd had for the mission, and he was bent over, elbows on his knees as he remained there, fretting.

"Lord Gloria?" Z asked softly, sitting down beside the Earl. "What happened?"

"They haven't told me anything yet," Dorian answered miserably, pale and worried. "Nothing. We've been here an hour already..."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," A said, sitting down at Dorian's other side.

Eroica was shaking his head, though, even as others came in and sat down. "I think he must have broken one of the wires holding his ribcage together. Dammit!" he declared, almost angrily. "He didn't need to be working like this again! He shouldn't have gone back!!"

"Could any of us have stopped him?" Z asked with a frown.

"Can you stop a speeding semi from running over a little dachshund?" Dorian asked wryly.

A nodded. "True."

"Then getting angry won't make things better," Z told him smoothly.

"*I* should have stopped it," he whispered, mostly to himself. "I should have..."

"You realize that the Major would be the semi, not the dachshund," A said after a moment of hesitation and a hand on the Earl's shoulder. "He'll be fine. After this the Chief will force him to stay off duty until he is well."

With a deep sigh, Dorian sat back, dropping his golden head against the wall. "I know, but I still feel guilty," he said solemnly, looking up at the ceiling. "Everyone knows he doesn't give a damn about taking care of himself, and surely... well. You're right, but..."

"You should calm down. You weren't hurt, were you...?" A questioned carefully.

"Just roughed up a bit, and not much at that." A glance around the room revealed no one but agents. "No documents. Completely a set-up."

"They were on the body of the bigger man," Z smiled.

"And the videotape, too?" Dorian asked.

"Yes." Utterly pleased was how Z sounded just then, grinning broadly the way Klaus did when a mission had gone off with only a few hitches.

If Dorian didn't completely understand the feeling, he'd have declared them all a sick, sick lot and abandoned them then and there. "I didn't know what to fill out for insurance or anything, so I just signed my name to the dotted line..."

"And it took?" Z looked confused, while A reached past Dorian to jab him.

Dorian shrugged. "S'long as someone's willing to pay, hospitals don't care much. Jamesie will be offended, of course, but that's his nature. He'll get over it." It didn't seem like much of a big thing to him at all. Why shouldn't he agree to pay?

"When was the last time you actually *saw* your accountant?" A asked curiously.

"Er...." Dorian hedged. He'd gone home last week, but Bonham had sent James off to London to pinch pennies somewhere else so Dorian could have a quiet week... "Two months ago?"

"Imagine the scene when he sees you again," A sighed in a shudder.

Smiling weakly, Dorian shook his head. "Huh-uh. I'll just tell Bonham... er... God, Jamesie's going to kill me in my sleep!"

Z shook his head. "No, Lord Gloria, he won't. Your life insurance is minimal."

A terrible fact, that! The edges of A's lips twitched up for a moment. "That's a comfort. If I were you, I'd warn him of the coming bill."

"Oh, he'll just find a way to take it out of NATO," Dorian said almost cheerfully. "You know Jamesie...."

"Don't tell the major he's going to do that," Z bemoaned. "His health is baaad as it is..."

"It'll be our little secret," Dorian agreed. "Aren't they EVER going to come out and tell us something!?"

"Probably not," Z sighed, biting his lips for a moment in worry.

Dorian simply wasn't MEANT for worrying. He stood and marched towards the front desk, expression firm. "Excuse me, miss," he said in firm English. "I want to know what's going on with Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach."

"Eberbach?" Her pronunciation had a particularly FRENCH lilt to it. "Let me see..." Which sent her scuttling off into the hallway, leaving Dorian to wait in frustration. He turned, smiled at A and Z and the rest of the Alphabets, and proceeded to peer after her, waiting impatiently. When she returned, it was shaking her head. "They have him in surgery, re-doing something or other.."

"A wire?" Dorian asked worriedly. "In his chest? Have they opened it again?"

"I think so, yes," the woman smiled. "Would you please sit down?"

"Oh, God..." Dorian whispered, unaware of how pale he'd become. "Oh, God..." Knowing what was wrong was much worse than suspecting it!!

"Lord Gloria?" Z's voice, so composed and from behind him, and there was a guiding hand at his elbow to keep him calm.

"I knew he'd done it," Dorian explained, mouth firmly pressed together into a line. "I knew it. Dammit!"

"Knew what, Lord Gloria?" Z asked, as he walked Dorian back to his chair. "What happened?"

"He tossed the big one over his shoulder!" Dorian said miserably. "He's popped one of the wires holding his ribcage together open!"

"Is that bad?" A asked with wide eyes, leaning towards Dorian.

"It's certainly not good!" Z said worriedly.

Dorian shook his head slowly. "When they open you up that way, they have to wire your ribcage back together. They tell you not to lift anything more than five pounds, they.... they don't want you to go back to work for two months, and..." His voice trailed off into silence.

"The Major breaks rules often," Z sighed, sitting back in his chair. "He'll be off duty again. And unhappy about it."

"Well, he *isn't* going back to Germany to brood this time and he *isn't* going back to work before he should even if I have to kidnap him and keep him from it!" Dorian whispered furiously. "None of us like this any more than he does!"

"What will you do?" A asked Dorian seriously, "And will you need our help?"

Another shake of that glorious head followed. "I'm going to rent a villa somewhere and not tell him just where we are, I think," he decided. "Do you think we can pull it off?"

"If you blindfold him on the trip there," A sighed. "He has a good sense of direction."

"Or maybe make sure he's sedated," Z offered.

"Darling, he fights off meds like that as if they're nothing," Dorian pointed out.

"We'll find a way, Lord Gloria," A murmured in a quiet assurance. "Why don't you go back to the hotel?"

"No," Dorian refused. "Not when he's here. Not when it's like this..."

"You've had a long evening, Lord Gloria -- you need to rest, and not here. We can call you, or send B over to fetch you when the Major is out..."

"Would the Major even want to see Lord Gloria...?" B wondered aloud, perking up at the mention of his name. "No offense, Lord Gloria, but he hates you."

Aquamarine eyes were overly bright, glistening, and B was ashamed when Dorian momentarily rubbed at them, unable to keep himself from it. "No," he said hoarsely. "You're all right, only...." Only they weren't right, damn them, but they had to *pretend*!!

Had to pretend that, while being Klaus's lover, Dorian didn't have every right to be there and to wait and see him, to make sure that he *would* be all right! "I'll take you to the hotel myself, Lord Gloria," A offered. He understood the dilemma, and the twists of it.

"Thank you, but it's not necessary," Eroica said softly, shaking his head. More of those curls had escaped from that braid, almost as if they *would* not be restrained. "I have the car, I can go myself. Stay, please..."

"Are you calm enough to drive yourself?" A pressed -- it fit with Eroica's facade -- that he was weak, shaky and unable to manage himself when shocked or distressed, but it was also true concern from A.

"Calm enough?" Oh, it was strange to hear Eroica laugh like that! "Hm. No, but it doesn't matter. I got here, I'll get there..."

"All right, Lord Gloria..." A looked supremely doubting, but wasn't going to press the issue -- not with all of the other agents showing only the smallest bit of concern for the man who their Major swore up and down to hate. So A remained silent as Lord Gloria left, trying not to feel too guilty for it.

~~~~~

"Darling, I've brought you breakfast!" Dorian declared, slipping into the small room. He'd managed to find a villa in northern Italy that was remarkably secluded, very comfortable, and much too far away from any of the local villages to do Klaus a damned bit of good should he feel inclined to steal away and find out where they were. "Eggs scrambled with cheese, bacon, toast and apple jelly, which you *must* use!"

The German man had remained in hospital for nearly a week, and it had been the hardest seven days Eroica could have imagined. Most of the Alphabets had contrived to keep him out, and he'd finally been obliged to break into the hospital -- HIM! Eroica!! -- as a last resort to see his lover, who had been irascible, cranky, and in pain. During that time, he'd managed to find the villa, make all of the necessary arrangements, and even soothe Jamesie, who hadn't been in the best of moods about the matter at all. It made him wince just to THINK about it!!

And the trouble they'd had after getting the Major released -- trying to make this look casual and as if he and Dorian were doing this yet somehow he still hated the man....

That had been hellish, culminating in a public argument between the two of them that made the entire thing look like a grudging kidnaping that was certainly making his agents worry. It *had* been a sort of kidnaping, because Klaus truly had no idea of where they were aside from blissfully alone in a well stocked household. The thief had driven them up there in the middle of night while Klaus had been sleeping heavily. No drugs needed, just a remarkable exploitation of a lingering exhaustion.

"Where did you learn to cook, Dorian?" Klaus asked, sitting up a little in the bed. The sheets fell down around his waist as he did so, leaving him comfortable and warm.

"I'm magic, darling," Dorian told him breezily. "Part of the fae, you know. Oberon and all of that. It's just a natural talent." He grinned then, leaning over to kiss Klaus's nose before settling the tray easily across those knees. "Hmmm, actually, even a master thief occasionally has to fend for himself, my love."

The habit, old and long-used, to comment on Dorian being a fairy -- comment in a possibly, no, likely cruel way... was shoved down, as Klaus tentatively pulled Dorian onto the bed to at least sit with him. "Everyone can cook -- but you do it well. I wouldn't have thought it among your natural talents."

"Hmmm," Dorian murmured, leaning down to press his lips to Klaus's, so tender as to be unbelievable. "I am a man of many," he said, also kissing Klaus's throat. "A remarkable man of many," he decided, winking slightly as he sat back up. "Now I'll go fetch my plate and your coffee, darling. Be right back, hm?"

A nod, and Klaus looked down at the overabundant plate for a moment -- Dorian was truly trying hard to make him better, wasn't he? As if good treatment and taking care of himself would somehow solve every problem... Perhaps in a lot of ways it would. This surgery, the second one, had left more pain than the first. It made him appreciate NATO surgical work; his throat was still aching from the tube that had been shoved in, again, for a few days.

Only moments later, Dorian was back, coffee and a second tray in hand, and he seated himself on the side of the bed. "Just the way you like it," he informed Klaus, shuddering slightly before reaching out to touch black strands of hair, a few of them silver, but not so many as to be noticeable... much. "I've given you gray hairs, darling. At least the ones you've given me aren't obvious..."

Taking the cup of Nescaf‚ from Dorian, Klaus gave the man a quizzical look. "We're simply getting older, Dorian; and even with that, we're still not very old. Mid-thirties isn't old. The Russians have given me more grey hairs than anyone."

"Hmm, no," Dorian agreed, "we're not very old. Still." He winked. "I'm sure if I have any gray hairs, they've come from you lately!" The smile he offered was rueful. "I thought I was going to simply break down when the Alphabets made me leave the hospital and wouldn't let me back in. I hate this game of ours, darling, and I hate the necessity of it, even if I understand it..."

"But you understand that it's needed?" The coffee was a little too hot, but he liked the way it seared down his throat, much as his cigarettes used to do. "I'm not allowed back on duty until I can pass a physical again, so you shouldn't worry for a while longer about having to play that charade."

"I understand," Dorian reiterated, sighing. "Mmmm, but I have you to myself for a while, then, if we're waiting for you to pass a physical. They should've made it a stipulation the first time!"

"They... did," Klaus decided to tell Dorian at last, "but I didn't bother. The mission was too important..."

That brought a certain stillness to the blond, a pause as he began to reach for a piece of bacon, a raised eyebrow. "I think I should have known that," he said slowly, sighing. "I ignored it, though. I shouldn't have..."

"So this... setback is completely my fault," Klaus went on as if Dorian hadn't spoken at all.

"Well... in any case, darling, let's just say it's a setback and not go into whose fault it may or may not be, hm? Eat your breakfast," Dorian bossed, poking him slightly with his fork.

Klaus glared at that fork for a moment, before spearing a piece of toast deftly. "I'm bored already; I hate vacations."

"Just wait," was the reply, golden head shaking. "You've only been out of hospital for a week. Two more, Klaus, and I'll have made sure that you never want to go home again."

"I don't doubt that if anyone could, it would be you, Dorian," Klaus agreed in a soft voice, looking fondly at the other man through shuttered eyes.

THAT gained him a most delicious, if bacon-flavored, kiss. "Now, eat your breakfast," Dorian prompted again. "I'll make it worth your while..."

"You'll only make it worth my while if I eat?" Klaus asked, testingly.

"I'll make it worth your while either way," Dorian said with a smile, "but I'd like it if you'd eat your breakfast. I'm eating *mine*..."

"Tell me how you'll make it worth my while," Klaus asked in amusement as he started to eat, if slowly.

Dorian shook his head. "Mmmm, it's a secret," he teased. "You'll like it, though, I think..."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of bacon. "You think?"

"I know," Dorian corrected with a wink.

"That's better." Klaus enjoyed the banter that sometimes happened, the complete lack, when so isolated, of anything to say, worries or concerns to voice. It was soothing to simply be with Dorian, to have the other man there as a buffer against the unhappier aspects of his own personality, and Dorian seemed to sense that, giving him what he needed to make things right for him.

"Mmmmmmm," came the hum from his companion. "I didn't do too badly. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day," he said, nodding.

"Probably because it gives you an excuse to lounge around longer," Klaus said, a tiny bit pointedly as he worked to finish off most the plate. "But you really are a good cook, Dorian."

"I'm good at *everything* I do, darling." That flash of ego was another sign of the other side of Dorian, but it was accompanied with a spectacularly secretive expression. "As you'll discover shortly."

"I should be worried," Klaus sighed, drinking the rest of his coffee quickly. "But like an idiot, I trust your plans and plots."

A light touch was felt against his nose before Dorian stole a piece of *Klaus's* bacon. "Mmmhmmmmm, and you should trust me when I say that you will enjoy what I have in store for you."

"Keep that up, and I will not be responsible for coffee in your hair." A barely warning tone to the man, and Klaus leaned back more against the headboard, unable to stop the smile that was curling his lips.

This was happiness.

"Oh, gracious, me, then I would just have to take a bath and forgo your surprise. No such luck," Dorian declared, kissing his lips sweetly. "None."

It was strange how Klaus's instincts of preservation worked so well, mission or no -- coffee and tray were slipped to the side with fascinating speed, and he tugged Dorian closer, into his lap now, to make the kiss deeper. If he could have, he'd keep the thief there in his arms forever.

"Feeling frisky, darling?" came the husky question a moment later, Dorian's own tray still firmly held straight despite his own shift in position. "A man in your condition..."

"It takes more effort to not kiss you than it does to kiss you," Klaus confided, before he took another kiss from the thief. Lips that were just as soft as they looked, and fit so heatedly and perfectly against his own...

Moments later, he looked at Dorian, the other man's eyes closed as he declared solemnly, "Mmmmmmmm.... I knew you had to be a romantic, at least a little bit, darling."

"I'm not... just with you," Klaus half-agreed, utterly grudging about it. There was something about the thief that made his head cloud over in the best ways.

"Mmmmhmmm..." Dorian managed, kissing him again. They both tasted like bacon, eggs and apple jelly, a delicious combination, and it was almost irresistible. "Want your surprise now?" he purred.

"Ja." Not that he was anticipating whatever Dorian had planned, of course he wasn't. It was certainly going to probably be worth waiting for... as long as it wasn't stolen.

Agreement came in short order. "All right, darling, let's get you out of bed, hm? And head for the bathroom." Oh, how those eyes lit up, humor and enjoyment in them for Klaus to see, so bright, and so very, very full of life!

The bathroom? /Well, whatever pleases him./ Klaus didn't move until Dorian, tray and all, was out of his lap; then he stood up, careful of his chest as he did so.

"March!" came the cheerful command, the remains of breakfast left to grow cold. "Or, at least, head in that direction," Dorian decided a little less tyrannically.

"Jawol." The wicked, dangerous smile was on his lips now, and he did just that -- marched right into the bathroom.

The bathroom was one of those places about which women dreamed of bathing and men dreaded when considering the pipework. The 'bath' was more like a small pool, resembling the one Dorian had been in the time that he'd stolen the Pope, and it was possible to set it to maintain a temperature. Seeing the steam rising slightly off of the water, and realizing that he had not heard any water running as they ate, Klaus decided that Dorian must have done it before he made breakfast.

"Strip..." Oh, the sound of that voice, husky with want, was a terrible, terrible temptation!

Klaus still did that with an almost military efficiency, stunted a great deal by the tightness of his chest. Being cut open again made him wary of stretching those muscles again, for fear of loosening new sutures.

"Now..." This was just behind him, spoken in a way that made him shiver when accompanied by the sound of Dorian's clothes hitting the floor. "Let me help you into the tub, darling..."

Klaus felt the slender hand settle on his hip, guiding him down into the heated tub that was really just a small pool, the water coming up to his mid-belly but not high enough to dampen his bandages. "This is a surprise."

"I thought it might be," Dorian agreed, slipping into the tub with him and promptly straddling his thighs, seating himself against Klaus's knees as he reached for the bath gel. "I also thought... maybe..."

It was a new position for him to have with Dorian, though he was certainly sure he didn't mind it. There was something altogether pleasant about having Dorian's body so close against him own. "Maybe?"

"Maybe..." Dorian said, almost hedging. "Maybe we could do something new to you, and that perhaps in the bath, you wouldn't strain anything..." A hand moved forward under the water, lightly wrapping around what proved to be a rapidly growing erection.

A startled noise of pleasure, and Klaus bit his bottom lip for a moment, eyes closing. Every time Dorian touched him in that way, it was wonderful and unexpected. "Try what, Dorian...?"

"You... here... inside of me," Dorian said in a little rush of words, as if saying it fast would gain acquiescence more easily. "Deep, and *good*..."

For a moment, Klaus's face was completely unreadable -- was he going to kill Dorian for that, or simply flip him over and fuck him, or... or just deny him?

"You really want that?" The thought... he couldn't see what the pleasure of it was, but Dorian certainly knew better than he did about if it gave pleasure or not.

"Oh, yes," was the fervent answer. "God, we do it in my dreams, and in my fantasies and... and all kinds of other good things with it. I want to pleasure you every way imaginable, my dearest love, my darling, yes!"

"Shhh..." There was no harm in trying it, even if it was the unspeakable perversion, banned numerous times in the Bible... as if Klaus cared anymore. If anything, the possibility of dying had made him want to live and enjoy life more, which made him want Dorian in any way and for as long as possible. "Yes."

A tension seeped out of Dorian completely with those words, one that hadn't really even been visible until it was gone, and Klaus realized suddenly that he had been terrified of what the answer might be even as his golden Briton filled a palm with the bath gel and began soothing it over him with slight splashes of water as accompaniment, his mouth stealing Klaus's as he moved forward to seat himself on those thighs. "Oh, love, thank you, yes, yes..."

"Lieber," Klaus breathed softly, meaning it completely, as he kissed Dorian back, one arm keeping them both steady in the little pool, the other stroking down Dorian's back to steady him, too. "You could have asked sooner..."

"I was afraid you would say no," his lover confessed as his hands continued to smooth a soapy path over Klaus's body, "and then you were hurt again, and I don't want to strain you, so..." It had been forever since the last time, and they'd never gotten past oral sex, though that was oh-so-good in and of itself... especially since Klaus had been so willing to try it, to give back pleasure that Dorian had given him. And just as always, the idea of what Dorian was suggesting was working a magical persuasion on Klaus, vivid mind creating images that didn't exist... yet. As Dorian carefully cleaned around the new wound on Klaus's chest -- another scar that wasn't deserved -- the blond could feel Klaus's breathing pick up minutely, and could feel his throbbing erection so close to Dorian's own. "Kiss me," he breathed, leaning forward to ask for Klaus's mouth, his hands sliding under the water to carefully use the gel to slick Klaus's cock, hoping it would stay a little while. He'd chosen it very specifically for its lack of components likely to burn, and he was entirely pleased with himself over it.

"Gott, Dorian," Klaus managed to gasp out softly, rocking his hips slowly up against Dorian's hands. The Briton knew how to play the major's body as well as he could play with any lock in the world. "Achhh, ja..." Catching Dorian's lips in his own served a duel purpose -- satisfying Dorian, and silencing Klaus.

It was so easy to open up for Klaus, to let his slick tongue steal inside, snatch Dorian's breath away and leave him moaning into those lips as his hand moved to touch his own erection. There was no question of whether it would be good or not -- he *knew* it would be good, one way or another -- only the steady rise of heat in him, and the lack of need for foreplay. He was already so excited, so unbearably and completely electrified by the sheer eroticism of touching the other man that he knew he needed nothing more than that. "Oh, God, yes..."

"Slowly, once..." Klaus trailed off, the hand on the small of Dorian's back trying to press the blond closer. "Now...?"

The answer that came was gravelly, affirmative, almost trembling with want as Dorian moved obediently forward, one hand holding Klaus in place as the other reached back, a finger momentarily sliding inside of himself to help reach his goal, and then he gave a low moan, aim perfect as he stretched to accommodate the other man, face buried now in Klaus's throat as he sank down 'til he could feel every inch of Klaus in him, little shudders rippling through him with rapid and precise shockwaves of pleasure. "Oh, God," he groaned, mouth parted, shifting so that his head could fall back slightly. "Oh, *GOD*!"

"Gott!" It sapped so much control from the man to not move; to not do more than stroke his wet hand up into Dorian's dry curls of gold and cradle the back of his head, other arm coming to rest on Dorian's hip. It seemed that together, they would shiver to bits -- from trying to not move, or adjusting to the pleasure of it. Dorian's clench was almost unbearably tight around his cock, leaving Klaus to marvel with what coherent thought he could find that it was a miracle he was inside of his lover at all!

Little whimpers were spilling loose from Dorian, the entirety of his body pressed against the other man now, erection throbbing between them with a vengeance, his arms tight around Klaus's shoulder. "Oh..." he whispered, clamping down tightly. "So long... oh, God, I've waited so long for you..."

"This..." Felt like heaven, to be buried so deep within Dorian's body, making the other man react like that! He just held on for the moment, riding out the urge to thrust wildly, until he could let go of Dorian's hip, hand headed towards the blond's cock.

The first touch of calloused fingertips on sensitive erection prompted a wild moan, Dorian's back arching, hips shifting so that he raised himself up and then pushed back down again, giving a desperate little cry. "Oh, *GOD*!" he gasped. "You feel so good! Klaus, I can't bear it, it's too much, it's too good, oh, God...!"

It was hard to manage both breathing and concentration at the same time -- trying to add speaking to the mix only made it wilder yet to keep in control. "Can we... slow... oh, Dorian..."

A whimper spilled over in a profusion of ecstatic passion. "Can... try, oh, *GOD*!"

"Don't want... it to end," Klaus breathed in his lover's ear, shifting his hips minutely as his hand gave a steady, slow stroke. It drew a veritable wail from Dorian, the sound of that gorgeously rich voice breaking with passion unbearably exciting, especially when accompanied by the barely restrained wriggle of hip and thigh, the tight hold Dorian kept not only on himself with sheer willpower, but also physically on Klaus.

"Nnnnnnnn!!!" Dorian whimpered, shaking his head, breathing in a shallow little pant. "Nnnothing, ever, ever, ever, *ever* so perfect..."

"Yes..." The German finally shifted again, falling into a slow, aching pattern of thrust and smooth stroke, trying to keep himself from giving in to the urge to gasp in breath. It would only hurt his chest, take from the pleasure... and far better to hear Dorian make those wonderful noises.

"Ohhh.." God, he was going crazy! "Please, Klaus, please, tell me I can move like I want," he begged in a whisper, nibbling at the other man's ear. If he could just move like he wanted....

"Ja..." Because it was hard to know how long he could hold out like that! "Yes.... move, Dorian..."

The moment permission was given, Dorian was up, shifting, the flexion of muscle feeling good against both of them as he began to move, rising and thrusting back down to feel Klaus fill him up again, pulling himself up 'til he could feel the head of that thick shaft almost out of him before falling back down on it, breathless sounds of utter bliss spilling back off of the tiles as he truly let go, crying out with the sheer wonder of what he felt, of what it was to have Klaus inside of him, *taking* him, making them into a single, hard, thrusting being, the thought of it utterly and completely unbearably wonderful... "OOOOHHHH!!!!!"

It was doing better than just making up for years of waiting and trying!

"Dorian... Dorian...." The Earl heard his voice become a ragged pant of breath, could feel Klaus's hips pound up to meet his, rough fingers tugging steadily at his cock -- all building for the moment where Klaus could manage no longer and spilled inside of his lover with a tight gasp of air.

With a keening wail, Dorian came, spilling into the water and on Klaus's belly, eyes clenching shut as he came down on Klaus again, clamping down tightly on the shaft still deep in him with all the pressure of a vise, every inch of him nearly rippling as he gasped, shuddered with the force of it. "AHHH!!!"

Klaus had almost been expecting to lose consciousness, it hit him like such a blow, but instead he found himself drifting lazily, Dorian a pleasant weight atop him, his softening cock still inside of that tight clasp. "Oh.... Dor... rian..." Hard to breath, to catch his breath again, and Dorian could feel that as he rested atop him. "That... thank.... thank you."

"My darling," Dorian whispered. "Oh, my darling, my love, my only love, for the rest of my life.... my Klaus..."

"Yes... love you," Klaus agreed breathlessly, hands moving to just hold Dorian again, head falling back over the rim of the tub. It was so good to feel like he was one with Dorian!

Kisses traced his throat, his jawline, caressed his lips and cheek, moved to his ear, to the shell of it, careful attention paid to the soft skin behind it, words a patter of soft sound, adoration, love, devotion, and Dorian was so tender with him, touching him, loving him... "Oh, my Klaus..."

Something he'd wanted to feel for years and years now -- more than just blind respect or fear, this... Dorian was love itself for him, with eyes only for him, and a devotion that verged on frightening.

"Dorian...can you... ah, move off.... my chest?"

"Am I hurting you?" came the fretful question, Dorian sitting up. He was sex-tousled, flushed and beautiful, and his eyes were worried, lips reddened from Klaus's kisses. "I'm so sorry, darling!"

"'m fine," Klaus gasped, now able to take in full breaths, the water slicked chest heaving in air for a moment as if he'd been strangling before Klaus finally managed to calm it, shoving down an urge to cough. Then, with his wits regathered, he had a chance to truly look at Dorian, to see the beautiful animal that their coupling had released.

"I love you so incredibly much," Dorian whispered, beginning to tremble. "I never thought..." He had never thought he would have this, even momentarily, and never had he considered the possibility that Klaus might feel something for him in return! It was almost too much, and he bit his lower lip, shivering again. "Oh, Klaus!"

"Shhh." Klaus moved again, shifting Dorian so that the blond was close beside him. Easier to hold, and it didn't cause discomfort... "It's your fault, you know."

"My fault?" Dorian asked, looking at him and leaning forward to kiss him again, slowly, watching his face. "How?"

"Persistent and stubborn," Klaus told him, between slow, lazy kisses. "Infuriatingly caring."

"Always right on top of you?" came the teasing reply.

"As often as you've pissed me off during missions, you proved that you were just as good as any of my agents." Except for Z, but Z had been molded in his own image, so... "That you were utterly brilliant when you had things to be done."

Another kiss gained his mouth, teasing. "Hmmmm, I had to be reliable or you wouldn't have put up with me. You'd have shot me in Italy that time if I wasn't useful enough..."

"I wouldn't have killed you," Klaus murmured. Shot... maybe. Maybe he would have, in Italy. "But we're in Italy now, aren't we? And I haven't shot you."

"Ohhh, no, you haven't," Dorian sighed, hand caressing down his side tenderly. "You've granted me a lovely little death, though..."

"Before we leave this place, we will have to do this again." Many times, if at all possible! "At least once with me where you were. I want to know what I'm doing to you."

The mere *NOTION* was enough to make Dorian hard again! "I'll make it very, *very* good for you," he whispered, a breath that caressed Klaus's ear. "So good you'll know exactly what you do to me..."

"You're the only person, Dorian, who has ever made me want this much," Klaus told him, turning his head to take a kiss again. "Only you. Ever."

"*For*ever," he told Klaus dreamily. "You know, perhaps we should get out before we become prunes, darling... I can feel my toes shriveling up even as we speak."

"Then you'll have to help me up," Klaus murmured, letting Dorian free to get up before him.

"Here..." Moments later, they were both out, drying off, and Klaus was re-bandaging his chest, careful with it, taping the huge pad of gauze in place with a critical eye. "You know," Dorian said solemnly, "I love you awfully much, Klaus."

"You've made it very clear over the years," Klaus reminded him, pressing down the end of a piece of tape, shifting a little to make sure it didn't shift, too. "I haven't made it clear enough. I care for you."

For a moment, it seemed almost as if Dorian had gone quite still, but Klaus decided it must have been his imagination as the other man leaned up and kissed him one more time, smiling. "I know, darling," he whispered, willing to settle for those words until perhaps Klaus could use others. "I know."

Klaus shifted near to kiss him again, sliding an arm around Dorian's waist. "I'm tired, Dorian. We should sit somewhere, or... anywhere but the bedroom. I'm sick of those walls."

"There's a divan downstairs..." Dorian offered. "It's wide enough that we can both lay down..."

"We going to bother with clothes?"

The answer that came was frank. "Well, I don't see why we should, do you?"

"No." So they went downstairs that way, stopping only long enough for Klaus to take his medication. Downstairs where the divan was, there was a small tv, and they'd probably try to watch another movie, though they both knew that would fade into quiet conversation and snuggling. For now, however, it was easy enough to pull a cotton throw off of the back of it and to curl up beneath it, legs tangled, Klaus's spine pressed to the back of the wide divan, Dorian on the outside, slightly damp curls falling off the edge as he yawned.

"Hmmm, darling, you've exhausted me," he teased, hand stroking up Klaus's side gently.

"You deserve it, for tiring me out," Klaus snorted in a gentle, pleased tone, arms sliding around Dorian carefully. "You're like a cat."

That blond head nestled against an arm, aquamarine eyes closing. "How's that?" the almost-sleepy question came, curiosity buzzing in the words.

"You like to look good, sleep a lot and take what you want." Klaus was of course more of... no, not a dog type of person, though one could easily make that leap. There was no animal quiet to fit Klaus so well as a cat suited Dorian, though.

"Nothing wrong with all of that," Dorian purred, shifting to kiss the firm muscle of Klaus's upper arm. Mmmm, he was in shape -- it was necessary to be the best cat-burglar in the world! -- but Klaus was...

Delicious.

"Although it's a fairly accurate description," he agreed a moment later.

That muscle shifted to curl Dorian just a little closer. "And you demand complete attention by virtue of simply being."

"Only yours, darling," Dorian whispered, face buried against Klaus's shoulder. "Really, everyone else is just sort of incidental."

"You're a hard man to ignore. And I'm just glad you didn't cheat yourself by staying with a whiny little snot like Caesar." He'd *detested* that whiny little thing thoroughly...

A quiet laugh answered *THAT*. "Oh, darling, YOU never had *anything* to fear by that. From the moment I saw you, I was lost. That was all it took. Caesar was never even really an option."

"Good. If he was, I'd have to find him and beat him, just because," Klaus murmured with a wicked smirk curling his mouth. "Now.... tired?"

"Drowsy," Dorian agreed, yawning slightly. "Mmm, you've worn me out..." And oh, that was said so very wickedly!

"Maybe I can wear you out again this evening." His suggestion held more than a hint of promise, while the two of them shifted and settled together. "This is always good."

"You can wear me out whenever you like," Dorian said, interest sparking. "Mmmhmmm!"

Lips brushed his cheek, then over his mouth. "Sleep well."

"Next to you?" Dorian murmured. "There's never any worry about *that*..."

~~~~~

Nearly two weeks later, Dorian stood alone in the kitchen, glaring into the refrigerator. It was still beautifully well-stocked -- someone came in once a week with groceries and did a little light cleaning -- but he was getting sick of cooking! /That's it,/ he decided, straightening up. /We're going somewhere!/

Wandering into the living room where Klaus was planted reading the paper, Dorian frowned. A pen had been shoved into his hair to keep it out of the way, and he looked a tad frustrated. "Darling... let's go out to eat for supper, hm? I'm starving, and I really don't want to cook..."

"Go where?" Newspaper was almost cast aside, and Klaus looked ready to bolt to his feet at the mere suggestion.

"I don't know," Dorian shrugged. "There's got to be a restaurant *somewhere* in the village that's about ten miles from here!"

"You're driving?" Klaus was already standing now. "Let me get my gun."

With a laugh, the British man pulled the pen out of his hair to let the curls tumble down. "All right. I'll run out and pull the car 'round, hm?"

"Sounds good for me. I'll meet you out front, ready, then!"

For a moment, Dorian watched as Klaus walked away. He was feeling much better of late, and for that, Dorian was incredibly grateful. It was inevitable that he would, given enough time to rest, and they had another four weeks at the villa. That would be quite a good start, he decided as he headed out back to the garage where an expensive little bottle green car was tucked away. He slid behind the wheel, sighing. /Mmm, Klaus.../ Maybe he'd feel well enough soon that they could....

He was smiling when he pulled up to the front steps and he winked at Klaus as he got in. "All settled, darling?"

"Quite; one day, I'll make you drive a sensible car." Klaus slid his seatbelt on, giving a little stretch as he looked over to the blond man. Dorian kept him on his toes at all times, and he was glad for it.

A wink later Dorian hooked on his own, laughing. "Hmm, well, this IS at least more sensible than usual! It's not red, after all, darling. See? A concession, just for you!"

"Well, thank you, then," Klaus sighed, settling back against the seat with a little smile on his mouth. "Now, are you going to tell me you've no idea where we're going?"

"I know *exactly* where we're going," he was informed. "I got us here, didn't I? There's a little village, and I'm sure there's a restaurant, darling."

"At least you had the sense to take us to a mostly safe country. The chances of meeting Mischa here..." Were slim to nothing, and that made him calm about the entire thing. "If we see someone we know, though..."

"Yes, darling." The sounds of that were slightly subdued, but only slightly! Dorian wasn't very good at pretending not to love Klaus, and so he shrugged and smiled. "I'm the lucky one. I can just go on being me, at least!"

"I truly hate having to pretend," Klaus sighed. Whenever they were out in public, they were almost expected -- required in a way -- to have at least one unhappy and large argument. "It's too easy."

"Poor darling... Maybe one day..." Dorian's voice trailed off into silence.

"If we ever can, yes," Klaus agreed quietly, moving a hand to rest it on Dorian's knee.

The reply to that was hopeful. "I doubt we'll see anyone we know, though, darling! I mean, the world is a very large place, what are the odds?"

"What are the odds that you manage to go after pieces of artwork, again and again, that are central to a mission?" Klaus asked with an arched eyebrow.

"That, my love, is luck," the other man declared. "Not odds. Well, and perhaps a bit of plotting, too."

"I knew it!" Klaus seemed to light up with that admittance. "The Alphabets always thought I was paranoid about you following me on purpose!"

Dorian thrust errant curls behind an ear, smiling. "I think it's more instinct, darling. I just always seem to know right where you're going to be!" he declared.

"And now you don't even have to bother stalking me down -- are we driving today, or are we going to sit here?"

Slowly, gorgeous eyes narrowed, a smile creeping over those lips that Klaus so liked to part with his own. "As soon as you kiss me, darling."

"Gladly." Klaus's words were a soft breath near his mouth as he leaned close as he could with the seatbelt on and caught Dorian's mouth in a slow, searing kiss. That would satisfy him for the time that they wouldn't be able to do it in public.

Dorian fairly hummed as he pulled back, putting the car into drive. "God, nobody can kiss like you can," he said dreamily.

"If anyone can, don't tell me," Klaus mused, settling back again as the car started to wind its way down the road.

Laughter sounded in the car. "Darling, I was only twenty-two when I met you, and I've been celibate for the longest time since -- honestly! Even if someone *could*, which I doubt, I certainly wouldn't remember!"

"I still can't imagine why you waited so long for me," Klaus mused, taking in the scenery and half memorizing it as they went.

"Mmmm, I told you. You're more than worth waiting for, darling. Sexy, incredibly good kisser, sweet, tender, stubborn, maddening, devilish and yet almost angelic, my dearest love..."

The half stern-looking German man was blushing furiously by then, trying to hide it. "You're trying to kill me with compliments."

"Just telling the truth," Dorian informed him. "You DID say, after all, that you couldn't imagine why I waited, so I told you!"

"I agree with stubborn, and maddening; I think the other things are more fitting for you." /Sexy?!!/ He wasn't sexy... he was a military man, smug, often self-assured and arrogant, certainly, but... sexy?

Blue eyes glanced at him, filled with some emotion that almost seemed to sing. "Hmmm. Well, we'll see about that," he said simply. "I rather think I'm exactly right about *all* of them."

"You're wrong, but I won't bother arguing with you," Klaus sighed, leaning an arm against the window.

"Wise, darling," Dorian replied, voice light. "Now, then, what do you imagine you'd like for supper, hm?"

"Anything that we don't have to cook. Something good." Klaus was always vague about what he wanted to eat -- he had a few favorites of course, good meat and Mosel wine, but other than that, nothing in particular. Field rations lent him towards a cast-iron stomach.

Rolling his eyes, Dorian coasted to a stop and took a left. "Well, darling, if that's the case, I'm sure wherever we stop won't disappoint you," he teased as they saw a little sign indicating that the village was only another five miles away.

"As long as there's relative solitude, I don't care," Klaus agreed.

They drove on for a while in silence, pulling into the village finally and seeing that, indeed, there were a couple of small restaurants available. Deftly, Dorian pulled the car in front of the one that looked to be the more likely of the two and parked. "Here we are, darling. Let's see what they've got, hm?"

"A quiet table in a corner," Klaus murmured. Part paranoia, and part simply wanting to be able to talk to Dorian about anything at all and not worry.

"All right," Dorian agreed, climbing out of the car. "Sounds good to me, darling!"

Klaus unbuckled, and rose smoothly, though the movement took effort. His chest was more tender this time around than it had been before, though the stabbing pain was gone. They walked together towards the door, and Klaus let Dorian get them a table. It didn't take long, orders quickly placed, and everything smelled delicious.

"Maybe it'll be pretty good," Dorian encouraged, putting an elbow on the table and his head in his hand to smile across the way at his lover, sighing slightly. "Oh, God, I'm happy."

"And why would that be, oh master thief...?" Klaus asked quietly, a smile touching the edges of his mouth as he put the napkin into his lap.

"I'm here, with you, and we're..." A slow smile came across his face, eyes sparking with absolute glee. "Well."

"Well?" Klaus always loved to press a point, and this was no different, as the waiter came by with a glass of something that was being passed off as lemoned water. Not liquor yet, not with the medications he was on.

"Distinctly... wickedly... and *completely*... likely to fuck like lemmings when I get you home," Dorian said with a wild little smirk. "And because I love you, but you knew that already."

"Aren't lemmings those animals that jump off cliffs?" Klaus joked in his own limping way, moving his hands to catch Dorian's after a very quick glance around. "You bring new depths to the word 'fuck', Dorian. I can't see how it's vulgar when it comes from your mouth."

"Hmmm, sounds like I..."

"Hello."

Klaus gaze shot up at that word, and he flinched back from holding his lover's hands -- to find Agent Z standing there beside their table. "What are you doing here?!" he half hissed and half shouted.

Z's blinking was almost audible. "I'm on vacation, Major. Hello, Lord Gloria. I see you're... well."

"Erm... yes," Dorian replied, not quite sure what to say or do until Klaus made a more definitive move than throwing his hands away.

"Get out of here now," Klaus spoke in a sharp tone, trying to keep it quiet so as to not get *as* many stares at they could end up getting. "This..." /Fuck./ Yes, it was that, too, wasn't it? But the story he'd had so well prepared had completely fled him when it was needed!

"It's all right, sir," Z said quietly as he saw Dorian wince. "I was pretty sure it was so. So is A. We can keep a secret, though..."

"Z..." Klaus's expression looked torn between a sheer *fit* and just giving up entirely. "We weren't here. I still don't even know where here is."

"Of course, sir," Z said sadly. "I'm sorry if I've interrupted anything..."

"No," Dorian told him. "It's all right."

Well, he'd certainly interrupted Klaus's nerves. "Just sit down, Z. Before we get kicked out of this fucking place."

"I didn't mean to upset you," Z said, seating himself, "only you seemed so open and happy and I thought, maybe..."

Klaus took another long sip of tart water, the cool liquid sliding down his throat calming him by degrees. "What did you think, Z?"

The blond man coughed slightly, shrugging broad shoulders. "Well, I suppose I was hoping you and Eroica had come to an understanding, sir," he replied, glancing over at the rather remarkably silent Earl of Gloria.

Klaus noticed the silence, too, and beneath the table put one broad hand on Dorian's knee, glad of the intimate little table. "I think we have." /But it's not really your business./

Z gave a little sigh. "Good. I'm glad. Actually, ah, that's sort of why I'm here. A wanted me to check and be sure that you were both all right and find out if there was anything that you needed..."

"Nothing right off-hand," Dorian offered. "We're pretty much fully stocked, I think you could say!" After all, asking for more lube would just be crass! Funny.... but crass! And Klaus was still in too good a mood to try for crass...

"And that's all?" He was always suspicious that NATO would butt into what very little time he did take for himself, even if it was just to heal...

"Yes, sir," Z said. "We, er... didn't tell home office."

"Tell home office you were coming here, or...?" His hand stayed on Dorian's knee, and gave a gentle squeeze.

"That I was coming. The other is none of their business," he said solemnly, enjoying the flash of a grin that got him.

"Darling, EVERYTHING is their business, or so they'd tell you, hmmm, Major?" the tall blond teased.

It got him a snort, but Klaus's mood was obviously lifting. "Gut. How are things at the office?"

"An utter madhouse," Z replied. "But nothing worse than usual. After all... it's ALWAYS an utter madhouse..."

"No missions? They haven't tried to put a temp in my office, have they?"

"Well...."

/LIE!/ Dorian thought, already seeing where this would go. /Or at least don't say YES!!!/

"Yes. Major Khushrenada's been taking care of things..."

"Major *Khushrenada*?" Klaus growled. Replaced. He hated even the thought that the chief would put anyone in the office in his stead.... because it might tempt them to replace him there permanently. "And this Major Khushrenada is...?"

"Ohhhh, *I* know him!" Dorian declared, placing the name after a moment's thought. "He's a terribly *dashing* sort of fellow, all honor! Met him at a garden convention one year. Has a yen for red roses!"

Klaus's attention snapped tighter at that mention, and he looked to both of them in a sort of simmering anger. "You've met him?" he asked Dorian flatly. Oh, wonderful!

Cerulean gaze widened angelically. "Darling, it was a garden convention. He's some sort of count from Luxembourg, and he's dreadfully odd. Bifurcated eyebrows, of all things. Had this blond and a little Chinese fellow following him around as if he was God and glaring at one another over the tea roses." Dorian shrugged. "Though I've heard it said that he's QUITE confident and very capable...."

"Yes," Z said calmly, shaking his head. "He seems to know just what he's doing..." He didn't bother mentioning that 'the blond' and 'the little Chinese fellow' had practically moved into their office...

"He had better not get too comfortable at my desk," Klaus growled, "since I'll be returning to work soon."

"Yes, sir!" Z agreed. "Everyone misses you..."

"I bet they do," the major grumbled into his water-drink, keeping under his breath, "about as much as a bomb." He knew he pissed them off regularly, and that they probably enjoyed far more this insane-sounding oddity of a major... but it was his position, had been so for over nine years now, and they were his men to terrorize!

Z was nodding firmly, though. "The new Major is scarier than you, sir. We've been having leg-crossing sessions." His expression was pained. "So far, G's the only one who can manage it, and the little Chinese guy keeps cursing at everybody."

At that, Dorian LAUGHED, unable to help himself! "Oh, *THIS* has to be a riot..."

"Leg-crossing sessions? To what purpose?!" It sounded... frivolous and idiotic! "There's papers to be filed, things to keep track of....!" He had to get back there *soon*, before the office went to hell!

"Er... he wants us to do things more elegantly, sir?" Z offered, beginning to sweat... JUST a bit.

"What a fucking idiot!" Well, Klaus seemed pleased in his own way that his replacement sounded incompetent. "I hope he knows he's just a temp."

"Oh, yes, sir!" Z said, nodding firmly. "He definitely knows!"

"I'll personally toss him out the front door when I return to duty," Klaus said with some satisfaction. He took another sip from the glass, and then sat back a little as the waiter brought the food over, plates set before he and Dorian. "Leg crossing lessons... fucking loon."

"Well, he really is a nice man, though," Dorian offered. "At least he's not abusing the Alphabets..."

"Not putting them to good, useful work is abusing them!"

Z coughed. "Er, well, sir, at least he doesn't impose TOO much beyond the leg crossing lessons..."

"What else. Tell me. I expect full documentation already in progress for this lunacy," Klaus told him firmly, picking up a knife to attack the steak newly placed before him.

"That's about it, sir," Z replied cheerfully as Dorian's supper was placed before him and his own, ordered just before they'd arrived, came as well. "Things are going smoothly, for the most part."

He was half happy to hear that, but wasn't going to admit to it. "Fine." What he'd hoped would be a private dinner was... well, obviously no longer so. Still, Dorian's foot was rubbing against his ankle and the other man was obviously happy enough, and Z was giving him news of the office. Not bad, for a vacation! It was a bit of both worlds... and when they returned home, he and Dorian would indulge in things that would probably make Z's hair curl like B's!

"Hmmm, so," Dorian said lightly, "when will you be going back to Bonn?"

"Two days. I have a room in an inn here in the village. It's really a quiet and nice place," Z smiled, looking to the major. "You're recovering well...?"

"Very well," Klaus granted, chewing on a piece of well-cooked meat.

"He's spent a lot of time in bed," Dorian agreed smoothly, resisting the urge to smirk.

Z caught the intention and blushed. "That's good..."

Oh, Dorian was going to be lucky if Klaus didn't kill him!

"I'll be able to pass a physical when I go in barely over a week, and then I won't be so limited any more," Klaus told them both.

"We aren't going in a week," Dorian said slowly. "We're not supposed to go for four more, and I really think you should keep resting...."

He could keep pressing the issue, but at this point, Klaus knew he'd never win. Dorian was so damnably persistent... "Fine. I just hate being away from duty for so long."

"Sir, you don't need to worry -- we're managing well," Z chipped in.

"See?" Dorian said, taking a bite of potato. "Everything will be just fine!"

"Three weeks, then," Klaus sighed, still not wanting to take a full four more!

"Four."

"We'll see." That effectively ended THAT conversation, and Klaus returned to trying to eat his dinner.

With a dramatic sigh, Dorian shook his head and smiled at Z. "Well? You see, he's not doing half so badly at all!"

There was a reason why he was the favorite, and it was because he could diffuse the possibility of anger from the man so firmly. "I suppose."

"At any rate," came the smiled response, "we'll be here for a while before going back. I'm sure nothing too monstrous to be handled will come up, and the presence of Major Khushrenada, while irksome in means of leg-crossing lessons, will undoubtedly not be *too* bad."

"If I need to find you, you'll still be here, though?" Z asked, taking a sip of soup.

"Yes. Here until I return to Bonn." Klaus was firm, too, that he would be returning -- unwilling to face any slight chance that he wouldn't. There was no reason to think about such a thing. "Have a good evening, Z. And thank you."

"Of course, sir," Z responded, recognizing dismissal when he heard it and rising to return to his own table, supper in hand.

"Darling, he could've finished eating with us," Dorian said lightly. "It wouldn't have been so horrible, would it have?"

"I'm trying to not think of work," Klaus told Dorian firmly, "And trying to relax. With Z, I cannot help but think only of work."

That gained him a smile and a distinctly pleasure-promising gleam came into those gorgeous eyes as Dorian leaned forward. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" he murmured, lips turning up in what was a very distinct little smirk.

"This is the only time I can remember taking leave and not spending the entire time trying to return to work." Not that he hadn't planned on going back early, but still... this was a very enjoyable vacation! He ate a little more, finishing the plate, and he picked up the bitter water. "Very good."

"I'm so glad, darling," Dorian told him tenderly. "Truly. Completely..."

"Are you done?" Klaus asked after a moment of finding himself so fully caught in the thief's eyes.

"Mmmmhmmm," Dorian replied, though a good half of his plate remained unfinished. "For now."

Klaus looked unconvinced, but didn't say anything in direct reply to it. "Then let's go." Because he wanted to have the thief back to the villa, for the sole purpose of making him scream with pleasure. The sheer alacrity with which Dorian rose said much about his own thoughts, money tossed on the table before they headed out the door with a wave for Z to find the car.

The trip back to the small villa was quiet with the rising tension brought on by passion, and Dorian was nearly purring by the time they got there. "Well, darling," he announced finally, parking the car 'round back, "we're home!"

Klaus had been trying, the entire drive, to not start things, not until it was safe to do so, not until it was comfortable to do so... and even though the inside of a car was uncomfortable, he couldn't help but lean over to Dorian and kiss him thoroughly.

That kiss was answered with a soft groan, filled with enjoyment, wonder, excitement. The sound of Dorian's voice that way, raw with passion, sent sparks flying through Klaus's blood. He could feel one of those hands rise, press lightly to a shoulder, the other coming to tangle in strands of black hair. "Inside, darling," was the husky answer when they broke apart. "Let's go inside."

It was a pity to part from Dorian, to have to let the other man move away from him, even if it was to get out of his car door and then lock it. That left Klaus there, impatient at the back door for a moment before he realized he had keys to open that door with, and slid open the lock seconds before Dorian came up behind him.

Arms slid around him warmly for a moment, hip pressed to his rear as Dorian leaned up and nibbled lightly at an ear lobe. "Mmmmm, darling... I do love you!"

"Inside, Dorian -- bed, I think," Klaus managed to say, trying to shift the thief so that he could touch back.

"Want me?" came the thick-sounding purr, right in his ear, as if Dorian's mind was so wrapped up in him already that his mouth wouldn't quite function properly. "Want to strip me naked and make me scream your name?" he whispered. "I will, you know..."

Klaus knew with an embarrassing sort of pleasure that Dorian would, and that knowledge brought a smile and a flush to his face. "Yes...." Now, to just get the Briton to move with him from the doorway!

"Sounds... *WONDERFUL*," he was informed on the breath of a sigh as the blond man's hand trailed down an arm and over it to rest low on his belly before pressing farther, wrapping around his erection despite his trousers. "Hmmm, I suppose we should go inside now," he teased.

/I'm glad there aren't neighbors,/ Klaus thought with a startle. "Yes. Inside, Dorian..." A slight twist, and he got one arm around the infuriatingly flexible man.

With a laugh, Dorian pushed the door farther open and lightly prodded Klaus into the darkness of the kitchen, flicking on a light before locking the door carefully behind them. "I don't know if I can wait to get to the bed," he teased, moving close behind the German man. "Mmmm, Klaus, let's hurry, hm?"

"I could hurry... if you would move your hand," Klaus murmured, giving Dorian's slender waist a little yank.

"I like it right... where... it is," Dorian whispered, leaning up to kiss him as he added pressure to the hand that was fondling Klaus through the khaki material. "Hmmm..."

Klaus did, too, but did he want to admit that aloud? No choice, because a breath of a moan escaped as he pulled Dorian close. The need to show his affections, his need of the other man was so overwhelming at times... And the conversation at dinner, that spark of enraged jealousy, hadn't helped the need. Soon Dorian found himself nearly crushed against Klaus's chest, caught up in a passionate kiss that he didn't fight in the least!

"Let's do it here, right here," Dorian whispered breathlessly. "On the floor, just fuck me now, darling, I'll die if I don't feel you soon!!" His fingers were rapidly working loose the button of Klaus's trousers and the zipper wasn't a moment's worry as it was flicked open, allowing him the opportunity to slide past white underwear and grasp that thick, hot erection in his fingers.

It felt to Klaus as if he would never accustom himself to those fiery and manipulative fingers that Dorian used on him. Floor... /It's carpeted./ A brief thought to remember, as he started to unbutton Dorian's shirt and pants. "You're mine, Dorian.."

"Yes!" came the husky agreement as the other man worked on getting Klaus naked, as well. "I belong to no man but you, ever. I'll always be yours, darling, forever, I swear it, please..."

Intricate pleading that only made Klaus want more to show his agreement. Showing was so much more effective for him than saying it, than swearing those things Dorian did with seeming ease. "Ja." He finally slid his hands beneath Dorian's pants, finding his lover without underwear again. Not that it was unusual, but it was pleasing as he lowered Dorian to the carpet.

"My darling Klaus," came the whispered words, so sweet to him, to his ears and to every part of him, hands stroking wildly now, though one always came back to his erection, rubbing, teasing, lightly prying. "Oh, I love you, I've always loved you, please, quickly, I *must* have you soon, I *must*!"

As if he hadn't had Klaus's strength within him the day before... but it was such a pleasure to be had after so long a wait!

There was no hesitation now, now that they were alone and it was a safe place for them to indulge. Klaus blanketed Dorian in a rush, bare skin sliding against skin. The German moved down quickly, too, tugging open Dorian's shirt to kiss against his chest. "Can you?"

"Yes!" came the cry, saliva-slick fingers moving to caress turgid flesh. "Yes, God, please!"

A moment wasted to let Dorian slick him as best he could, and then Klaus drew back from Dorian's fingers, to place himself at the entrance to the Briton's body. Pulsing there for a short, short moment, Klaus's control failed him and he gave too little warning before he surged into Dorian's tightness, almost painful for him. "Ah!"

The cry that came in response cracked in his ear, the blond thief's arms tightening around his shoulders almost impossibly even as the rest of Dorian's body tried to relax, little whimpers spilling loose from thick in his throat. "K....la...us!!!!!!" Oh, how he clenched around that throbbing erection, entire body shivering with a strange pained bliss that almost seemed to sing along his nerves!

It was frightening for Klaus how much of a need to posses there was within him, a need to claim and keep Dorian as his for years and years to come. Once he'd faced the horror of wanting and needing the thief so badly, Klaus found comfort in those needs, in Dorian's voice, body and mind, all of which spoke straight to his unchilled heart. He could barely wait for Dorian to adjust to his intrusion, already starting to take small, pleasure giving rocks within that clenching shudder.

"Please... yes...!!" They were panted breaths in his ear, the tight hold letting up as Dorian moaned, a sound that was enough to push him to utter heights of pleasure in and of itself. A steady upward shift of a hip gave him permission and the blond man gasped as he pulled out and pushed back into him again. "Oh, GOD!"

There was nothing in the world that could compare to the pleasure of Dorian; to knowing that those sounds of delight and joy were coming from Dorian because of him; to knowing that Dorian loved him and wanted him. "Yes..." A growled exclamation as he snapped his hips forwards again, surging back into wonderful heat, only to jerk nearly all the way out again, trying to find the angle that would hit inside of Dorian perfectly.

A sharp yell of pleasure told him when he found it, the entirety of Dorian's body arching up off of the floor, eyes shut tightly as he clung to Klaus. "Oh, God, *YES*!" he wailed, cock rubbing between their bellies, lower lip bitten tightly as one particularly deep thrust almost hurt. "MMMM!!!!"

It didn't stop Klaus, though -- it only encouraged him, body rocking forward into Dorian's like waves beating against a cliff. Relentless, bent on reaching the top... "Nearly, nearly..." And then it was there, for both of them, Dorian yelling and clamping down around him with an unbearable pressure that made it a necessity for him to come explosively, spilling deep into that tight vise even as the blond drew him close, sobbing out with the power of his orgasm.

The little ship Klaus had been in just smashed itself into the cliff, roughly. He didn't care that he was being dashed to bits by the pleasure that overcame him when he spilled into Dorian's clenching, coaxing body. He was wanted there, needed... "Gott!"

"I've died," Dorian decided dreamily some moments later. "It's the only possible explanation for the sheer bliss of being in your arms this way..."

"We just... on the floor... without..." Ah, he'd probably hurt Dorian! But he wouldn't say it. Instead, he just carefully pulled out, gathering Dorian into his arms. "'s good. 's always good and perfect, Dorian."

The little hiss the thief gave said much, but his kisses weren't any less sweet when they came. "Let's go to bed, darling," he whispered. "I want to make love with you all night..."

"You're hurt," he murmured, standing up and pulling Dorian up with him. If it hadn't been for his chest, Dorian was sure he would have been shouldered and lifted, carried the way there.

"It only hurt a little," Dorian told him, which was something of a fib. It had actually hurt quite a bit at first, but that was quickly abandoned in favor of utter pleasure. "I'll be fine, Klaus..."

The German man was still frowning as he led Dorian into the bedroom, and pulled back sheets to pull them both down into. "I didn't mean to."

"Kiss me, you mad, mad man," Dorian told him softly, raising his arms to wrap them around Klaus's neck. "Kiss me, and in a moment, I'll show you what it is that you do to me that drives me so very wild."

"Huhh...." Contemplation was pushed aside in favor of good, swift action -- Klaus did kiss Dorian, the blond already seated on their bed, canted slightly on a hip.

"Climb in, darling," came the whisper, accompanied by nibbling kisses. "Hmm..."

A knee first put on the bed, and then he shifted in entirely, moving Dorian in with him so that they could both lay down and touch, the kisses barely stopping at all, and soon they were tangled together and getting hard again, erections rising slowly to press close together.

"My darling," Dorian sighed, nuzzling at him. "Hmmm, nothing could be better than being here with you."

"'m glad you dragged me off here," Klaus told him, kissing at any skin he could reach, still ravenous for touch. "You do things to me... that I didn't think could be done..." Drove him utterly wild, instead of just utterly angry and raving mad.

The almost-purred response sent gooseflesh chasing up and down him. "Just wait," Dorian told him, a hand lightly caressing across the still slightly sticky flesh of Klaus's cock. "Just *wait*, Klaus."

"Just... wait? For what?" Klaus dared to ask, arching his body towards those fingers.

"For more, darling," his lover whispered. "For more."

"More what?" Anticipation and Klaus had never gotten along well -- waiting needlessly had never gotten along well with him and in that moment, he wanted to know!

As Dorian's mouth found his skin, tracing down his belly already, slim firm body sliding between his legs, it was almost more than he could bear! "More pleasure, darling," came the groan as hands slid beneath him, lightly kneading his buttocks. "For more of *everything*..."

"Oh, God..." *That*. The thing that would completely seal Klaus's sexuality if he gave in, yet... he'd been doing it to Dorian, and fair was fair... "Show me... why you enjoy that, Dorian. I want to know."

"I'll make it so good for you, darling," he was told simply, body raised slightly, lips pressed to his inner thighs, working their way upward. "Oh, God, yes..." Klaus shifted, moving a leg so it would fall over Dorian's shoulder when the man straightened up again. As it was, those teasing lips crept over his skin like a caterpillar would, so very rhythmically and slowly, leaving him nothing but good shivers as a tongue furled out slowly and sought between the firm flesh of his cheeks, probing lightly for the tiny hole there. "Mmmmm..."

"Ah! What're you doing!?!" A warning would have been good for Klaus, because he startled completely, half sitting up.

"I'm going to pleasure you, darling," Dorian told him huskily. "Lay back. It's all right.."

"Dorian that's..." Disgusting, but it had felt good in that brief moment of shock. "It's...!"

"Hush, darling," Dorian whispered, head going back down. "Hush. It will be all right..."

"Nein, ohhh, Gott...." It should have felt terrible, but it didn't -- the almost slither of Dorian's tongue against his nether entrance, and then the way it stabbed in a little, just enough to make his back stiffen with the strange shiver it send through him. Was that good, or bad to feel... feel the head of his cock weeping a little with each strange caress?

Little sounds came from his lover, as much a part of him and who he was as anything else. If Dorian wasn't making noise, it wasn't a good sign, and the sheer audible enjoyment only hiked the pleasure up higher, if that was possible. The tongue teasing at him was slowly replaced with a fingertip, one that pressed just inside of him, teasing and light. "Is that all right, darling?" came the distinctly husky question, eager to please.

"Ohhh, fuck, *fuck*..." Klaus's hard panted swearing, though, wasn't protesting -- it was nearly ecstatic, trying to both escape that strange, intimate feeling of being invaded, and get more just to see what it felt like.

"There, darling," Dorian whispered, sliding up, one hand reaching for the lube that had been stuffed under a pillow at some point. Klaus could feel that slender digit, magically nimble, working its way deeper inside of him. "Shhh, it's all right, tell me if I do something that you don't like, hmmm?" Those words were accompanied by light nibbles at the side of his neck, teasing and slow. "Hmmm..."

"'s strange," Klaus gritted out, trying to not moan at the strange feel of it. He hitched his hips up just a little towards Dorian's probing touch. "'s good. Oh, 's *good*..." So good it was starting to make sense why Dorian enjoyed it so much...

The lube was fumbled open and the finger was removed from him to smear it and the one next to it with the stuff before the first slid back in quickly, easily, almost shiveringly good and fast. "Hmmmm, darling," Dorian sighed, kissing him. "My dearest love...

"'re going... to be inside of me...?" Klaus asked, in a hazed drawl of voice. Dorian was already partly inside of him, wasn't he? Just a finger, and that felt so foreign... "'s okay?"

"It will be just fine," Dorian promised, kissing him sweetly as that finger lightly stroked over the vaguely spongy spot for which he'd been searching.

Against his lips the most delightful moan was smothered as Klaus registered and reacted to Dorian's manipulation of that spot. It was a completely new loss of control at Dorian's hands, the way just brushing that spot made his cock throb and beg for attention, strange pleasure shooting though him as he clutched Dorian close in desperation. "Dorian, Dorian..."

"Yes, my love," the blond man whispered, lips caressing tenderly over his face. "I know, love. I know..." The second finger slid into him then, slowly, just as slick as the first and prying tenderly to open him farther. "Oh, God, darling, I want you so much!"

"It... aches... everywhere." And not a bad ache, either, from the way Klaus was shifting against Dorian, hard cock rubbing slickly against Dorian's body as Klaus sought contact. It was granted, too, easily enough, even as Dorian began to thrust his fingers just a bit roughly, opening him, making way for the larger burden of his own erection in short moments to come; after all, he wasn't certain he could hold himself back for much longer, so badly did he want to be inside of his German lover! "More, Dorian," Klaus asked in a rough voice, hips moving eagerly now for what was to come. Would it hurt more than the strange ache of fingers?

"I can't wait any longer, darling," Dorian husked, the tube open again and his hand moving now to slick himself thoroughly. "I just can't wait. Kiss me," he demanded, slipping between the other man's thighs and lightly tugging at them to bring both raised and further apart.

Splayed open and as vulnerable as Klaus would ever get, Klaus wrapped both arms around Dorian's shoulder and neck, pulling him down for a rough kiss. "Now, Dorian, before I..." Back out, panic even a little, or come from the thought of what Dorian was going to do.

He felt a slick nudge, and Dorian kissed him again even as he whispered, "Push out for me, darling, like you would if you were going to try and keep me out of you, hmmm?"

That didn't make sense -- how would trying to keep Dorian out help him in? -- but Klaus pushed out as he felt the slick, blunt object press against his entrance. Dorian's cock, trying to get inside of him, just as he'd been inside of Dorian so many times now...

With that pressure, it was easier to press inside, the head of his cock pushing against the ring and winning inside of him, Dorian stopping right there with every bit of iron-clad will that he possessed. "Oh... ohhh, *GOD*!!" It was so incredibly tight that it almost had a strangle-hold on him and he shuddered, knowing that he couldn't move -- not yet! "Unh!!"

Which was good for Klaus, whose eyes had startled wide at the intrusion and its accompanying jolt of pain. He hadn't thought it would feel like there was so much inside of him! Worse, he couldn't even see how far inside of him Dorian was, just that the first jolt had been enough to make him cry out in startlement.

"Shhh, shhh," Dorian whispered, hands stroking over him lightly. "Oh, God, darling, you're exquisite. Relax for me, take a deep breath..." Ohh, kissing Klaus was delicious, being inside of him was even better, and Dorian knew that if he died in that moment, he'd die a happy man! "My darling, it's all right..."

Deep breath... no, deep breaths still hurt, and that wouldn't have been a wise idea. Still, he did suck in air, shuddering for a moment as the pain rose and then began to fade. "Hurts... 's strange... 're stuck?"

"Just holding still, darling," Dorian promised. "Tell me when it doesn't hurt as much and I'll move a bit more, all right??"

"Ja..." His face was tight for a few more moments, and it felt like it would *never* feel better, so Klaus just shifted a little, and felt more of that strange sensation that was more like pleasure. "'t hurts, still... but move..."

With a slow shift forward, Dorian penetrated him deeply, kissing him the entire while, stealing away the little whimpers and sobs and moans that Klaus gave. His hands stroked the other man's sides, teasing, light, and ultimately tender. "Mmmm, darling," he whispered, shivering. "You feel so good..."

"'s it get better?" Klaus asked unsteadily, shifting his head a little to take and get more kisses -- because where Dorian was joined with him was a source of steady discomfort, even if it was starting to improve slightly. But he'd done it at last, taken Dorian into him, and it was at least bearable, if nothing else.

"Much better, darling," Dorian promised, leaning down to bite gently at his throat before pulling out, shifting angles, and pushing back in again, very carefully.

A ragged moan, and Klaus arched his body up against Dorian's, clutching him close. Once the initial pain was shifting, Dorian was quickly realizing that even sex with Klaus on the bottom was something like mating with a dangerous animal, and it was utterly and completely delicious.

"Is that better, darling?" Dorian nearly groaned, thrusting again, finding the nub of pleasure that resided inside of him with the tip of his erection on that push inward.

The clench of heat around him and the fact that Klaus was finally lifting his hips up and towards him for more was answer enough. "Nnn, 's good," Klaus panted, shivering with each even faint rub against that spot.

"Yes," Dorian whispered in his ear, moving slowly, the sheer feel of Klaus's tight ring of muscle steadily clutching around him more than enough to make him almost abandon all sense of decorum and care. Still, he clung to it, clung to himself and to Klaus both to keep from losing it, and loved him slowly, tenderly. "My God..."

Words were too far from Klaus's grasp as he fell into a slow, aching rhythm with his lover -- a steady, rolling pull and thrust, his cock rubbing relentlessly against the thief's flat stomach. He wanted more, to race towards the precipice he was nearing quickly, but didn't want it to end yet! "Mmmnn."

Quickened thrust of hip and throbbing erection followed, Dorian shuddering as he pressed deep into Klaus and withdrew, doing his best to make it good, perfect. A hand slipped between them, taking his lover's stiff flesh in hand and stroking it quickly, in time with each motion, pushing Klaus even farther towards orgasm, his own more than eminent.

The hand on his cock was what threw him over the edge, soaring into a blissful feeling of being completely lost in pleasure. Dorian was all around him, it felt like -- above and in him, against him...

When Klaus came, it was exquisite. He became even tighter, though it had seemed impossible to Dorian, at best, leaving him gasping, groaning, and thrusting deep until he followed, shuddering with the impossible wonderfulness of it all, too much to bear, too much to think on or to do anything more than feel utterly to the depths of his bones. "UNH!"

The fog slowly rolled away, and Klaus was aware of two things -- being utterly unable to catch his breath, and holding Dorian very, very close, not wanting to let go. That was what it was like, then? Now it made sense why the thief had been so eager to have him inside of him, and why Dorian cherished the act so much. There was a frightening intimacy to it. "'m Dori'n."

"What, darling?" the blond man asked hazily, leaning up on his elbows, still panting slightly, the resistance of Klaus's arms keeping him close. "What did you say?"

He hated to know that if he answered Dorian he'd lose the man's presence against him, and within him. " 'nhaler... can't..." A thousand curse-words rose on his tongue, to accompany that short-breathed phrase, but they'd have to wait to be said.

"I'll be right back!" And then he was gone from Klaus's warm flesh, but only momentarily, and not very far. He was back in a flash, inhaler in hand and ready for use. "Here, darling. Breathe deeply, if you can..."

Klaus hated the stinging cool feeling it spread within his chest after the requisite two inhales, but also recognized the relief and ability to breathe it brought with it. He coughed a little as he gave it back to Dorian, arms already coming up to catch the Briton in his grasp. "Danke."

"Who knew I was such an excellent thief as to even steal away your breath, my Iron Major?" Dorian teased with more than a little concern, pressing his lips along Klaus's jawline.

"You've tired me out," Klaus told Dorian, which was quite an accomplishment even then, to run Klaus out of energy. "That was..." There was no word he could find, only a smile for it as he stroked a hand along Dorian's back, absently trying to find the edge of the sheets to pull them up over them. "Today's been a good day."

"And it will only get better, darling," Dorian promised, kissing him again. "Hmmm, we'll have forever together..."

Forever. Quite the thought to follow Klaus into lazy slumber, drifting off with Dorian held tight in his arms.

Yes, they had a lot of time to make up for.

~~~~~

Breakfast was almost ready in the form of scrambled eggs and toast when the knock came on the front door. "Now who could that be?" Dorian asked himself, shutting off the heat beneath the eggs and wiping off his hands before moving to answer it.

Klaus had gotten up slowly that morning, done a little exercise, jogged a few laps around the villa, and only casually glanced up as Dorian moved to get the door.

What Dorian hadn't expected, however, was for it to be Z standing at the door. "Good morning, Lord Gloria. Can I talk with you for a moment? And... the Major?"

"Of course, Z," Dorian said with surprise. "Do come in. I was making breakfast, so perhaps you'd care to join us?"

"Uhm, no, but thank you," Z said, sounding a bit on edge. "We need you at the office for a mission, Lord Gloria."

"*Now*?" came the question, a blond brow raising slowly. "It can't wait?"

"No. Major Khushrenada already put it off for too long," Z said, as Dorian let him enter the villa. "We need you immediately. But... not the Major."

White teeth nibbled firmly at Dorian's lower lip. "In that case, I suppose it'll have to be all right. So long as the Major isn't brought back yet... he isn't well," he told Z solemnly, "despite everything."

Z gave Dorian a questioning look for a moment, but nodded. "We have to go to America -- the capital. It's a long mission, but if--"

"What's going on?" Klaus demanded flatly, suddenly standing in the kitchen doorway in front of them, very aware of what was going on.

"Let's eat breakfast," Dorian said firmly. "We can talk about it over that, and then do whatever needs doing."

Z was firmly aware, however, that Klaus was impatient when he felt left out of the loop, and that the Major was very soon going to be far out of the loop. "Sir, Lord Gloria's presence is required on a mission. Immediately."

"Surely it can wait for breakfast!" Dorian said again. He *didn't* want to leave Klaus, mission or no mission, and he was dammit all going to at least have breakfast before he left!

"Probably not," Klaus snorted, a tone that Dorian could obviously tell was an unhappy one. "I'll help you pack." It was a strange, detached way that he told Dorian that, as if already shutting himself in again -- Dorian hadn't seen him like that since the first days after the mission that had begun everything.

/I don't *want* to go and leave you!/ Dorian wanted to shout, but he resisted, shoulders slumping slightly. "All right," he said calmly. "Have a seat, Z. I'll be back shortly."

Nodding, Z sat down at the kitchen table, as Klaus tromped down the hallway towards their bedroom. Well, soon to be his. With Dorian leaving, he might as well leave, too. Head back to the Schloss and finish recovering there until he could pass his physical. A mission -- a mission that didn't have him. No, Z hadn't come to get him for this urgent mission. He'd come to get Dorian. Would the thief be working with the other major on it? Doubtlessly. Why couldn't they have found another contact for the job? And why not include *him*?

That stung the worst, and Dorian could sense that pure unhappiness as Klaus pulled Dorian's suitcase out of the closet for him. "I'll be going to the Schloss within the next day or so."

"I don't want to leave without you," Dorian told him miserably, shaking his head. "I don't want to go."

"It's a mission," Klaus told him, handing the Earl his suitcase, moving carefully. "You'll be fine."

"But you won't be with me," came the sad response.

"Z will make sure you're all right," Klaus said stiffly, moving after a moment to get his own suitcase out, too. A horrible sense of being just worthless as an agent was latching onto him -- even Dorian was worth dragging out of a state of absence, but Klaus? Replaced by an idiot and kept out of information. "I'll drive your car up to the Schloss."

Unable to help himself, Dorian moved forward, wrapping his arms tightly about Klaus's shoulders. "I love you, darling. I don't want to go without you..."

"You'd damn well better come back, in one piece," Klaus said gruffly, words muffled against Dorian's hair as he clutched the other man close for a moment. "'ll be back on duty again as soon as possible..."

"NOT 'til you're well," Dorian bossed, sighing slightly. "I'll be so miserable without you. I'll be back as soon as I can..."

"Go to the Schloss when it's over," Klaus uttered, closing his eyes for a moment. Emotional attachment to anything hurt eventually... only, he didn't need the hurt for Dorian going to combine with so many other hurts at once.

"I'll be back quickly," Dorian said again, holding him a bit more tightly. "I love you, darling. I do. I'll be back as soon as I can..."

"I know." Klaus was glad of that tight press, and then mumbled in quiet English against Dorian's golden locks of hair, "Love you, too."

"I'm so glad, darling," Dorian whispered, kissing him tenderly. "I'm so glad..."

It had taken only a slight turn for Dorian, and a lifting of his head, to catch Klaus's lips in his, and once he had, Klaus was reluctant to stop. "You need to pack. And leave before I decide you aren't going."

"Yes, darling," Dorian said sadly, pulling away. "I'll be back before you know it..."

A stiff nod from Klaus, as the dark-haired man let out a tight breath, and then opened Dorian's suitcase for him. "I'm sure you will."

"All right," he sighed. "I suppose I have to get this over with." That decided, Dorian began to pack -- everything from the clothing he'd brought that Klaus would have dubbed 'normal' to the rest, which included his catsuit. This was done in silence, until finally, there was nothing left. "That's it," he said softly.

"I wish we'd had more time," Klaus sighed, rubbing his temple a little as he watched Dorian hoist up the case. Then again, such expectations were sheer idiocy. He was a spy, and Dorian worked with him. Solitude was not their lot in life.

"Soon, darling," Dorian promised him. "Soon."

Yes, soon.

Z and Dorian parted within short minutes from the villa, but only after Klaus had taken one last private moment to kiss Dorian. Then he packed his own belongings, took his medication, and laid down for a nap. If he left after the nap, he'd be at the Schloss the next day.

~~~~~~

"What a perfectly dreary place," Dorian muttered as they headed into the hotel in Washington DC. "Honestly, without the Major, I'd have expected something at least a LITTLE better, Z, darling..."

"We aim for being inconspicuous," Z sighed. "Major Khushrenada... We need Major Eberbach for this. An artillery ring... is something he could infiltrate!"

Dorian was already shaking his head, though. "He's still not well. You might as well go ahead and introduce me to your Major Khushrenada," he said with a sigh. "I hope he's at least half as good... I'm not ready to die yet."

"Not a third. No one could be," Z sighed, getting out of his chair without his usual perky crispness. "He's in a room down the hall..."

"And waiting for me, I don't doubt," Dorian replied.

"He's been eager to meet the man that the famed Iron Klaus worked with for so many years," Z said, wincing the very moment that he was speaking about Klaus in past tense.

Eroica sighed. "Let's get it over with, then, because I've got a miserable case of jetlag and I want to be in bed as quickly as possible, hm? Tell me he doesn't have THEM with him?"

Z gave Dorian a look over his shoulder that was almost a manic *grin*. "The chief made him leave them at home."

"Oh, thank goodness!" came the declaration. "The little cursing one is utterly *terrifying* when you're tense, darling, really, I pricked my fingers at that rose conference because of him!"

"I nearly shot my leg off," Z agreed in a sigh. "Worse than James."

"And very few people are worse than *James*," Dorian agreed. "Well, let's do it... what d'you need me for, anyway?"

"To break into the Pentagon," Z said with hesitance, looking over at Dorian nervously as he guided him down a hall, and keyed open the door to the Major's room.

"My, my," Dorian said softly just as he walked into the room.

So that was why they wanted no other thief for the job.

"Lord Gloria! Good to see you!" a familiar voice purred at him, as Major Khushrenada unfolded himself from a comfortable chair.

"Hello, Major," Dorian greeted, moving forward smoothly. "How lovely to see you again, and I see you've gained a different sort of entourage, hm?"

"It seems so -- did Major Eberbach *really* need so many men?" Khushrenada asked him curiously, standing up smoothly and offering a hand to shake. "Sit down, sit down."

"They're the best in the business, really," Dorian said, seating himself once he'd shaken hands appropriately. "They're very good, and I'm sure he really DOES need all of them.."

"I suppose," Khushrenada sniffed. "After this mission, I'm rotating out again. Word is, Eberbach's retiring...?"

That seemed to surprise the thief, his posture shifting slightly. "No, only recuperating," he said firmly. "If he were retiring, then so would I be. I usually only contract for Eberbach. This is a special case, however."

"Really?" Khushrenada perked up, then laughed softly, shifting to cross his legs. "Rumor has been that he's dying. Lung cancer and a sheer stroke of injury."

"They cut it all out," Dorian said, shaking his head. "That's what we were told, anyway..." Sudden worry filled him, and he KNEW he was in the wrong place. He should have been with Klaus, at Schloss Eberbach, or still in the villa, and not here!! "Shall we go into the details of the mission? I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry, chap, but this is a definitely long mission we have ahead of us -- we've got at least three weeks of surveillance to do, and you must be here for every moment of it."

With a sigh, Eroica gave in. "All right. Let's just go to work, then. I have other places I need to be much more desperately..."

~~~~~

Klaus desperately, terribly hated doctors. NATO doctors in particular, because he'd seen more of them than any other sort in his lifetime.

Only a week had passed, since he'd driven himself back to the Schloss -- against better judgement, but he made it -- and now he stood in his underwear in front of a complete stranger while the man inspected the incision on his chest.

"Hmmmm...this seems to be looking all right, considering. Bit of a ham-handed job, but those Frogs are like that." The doctor was a grizzled old fellow with all the bedside manner of a Doberman.

"When can I return to duty?" Klaus asked him flatly, not bothering ot put up a pretense.

"Well, that's what we're here to talk about, then, hm? All right. Might as well tell you, the doctors in France found some more cancerous tissue when they opened you up. They sent us some of the bloodwork, and the results aren't good, Major," the doctor said as gently as he could manage, which wasn't very much so.

"Why the *fuck* did no one tell me?!" Klaus snarled suddenly.

"You weren't well enough for what few treatments we've got. The treatment's as likely to kill you as the disease," the doctor admitted. "Now that you're well enough, we've got a few options. Chemotherapy, radiation. The chances are maybe forty percent."

"Of what? Dying, or living?"

"Living."

"With treatment? And without... I have none?"

"Yes." That was said softly, almost gently.

There was no dignity in dying of cancer. There was no dignity in the treatments, either, but what else was there for him to do? The doctor could hear Klaus draw in a shaking breath, looking at the ceiling. He wasn't going to die in the field. He was going to die a slow, painful, waste of a death in some hole of a hospital bed.

It was a nightmare sprung to life, yet he grasped tightly to his one hope. It sounded almost desperate when he asked the doctor, "And which treatment will return me to the field the fastest?"

Didn't he realize that it would take him at least another year to recover enough, if he survived at all? Or was this just a sheer show of stubbornness from one of NATO's most stalwart agents?

"I doubt that you will ever be able to do so," the doctor told him slowly. "Your health will not ever be the same again. Both treatments will be necessary if we're to have any hope of your ever being well again."

"When do we start it, then?" Klaus asked without missing a beat, as he finally met the doctor's eyes with a flat blank gaze. Human tank, just like he was rumored to be -- if anyone could recover and get back on the field, it was Klaus.

"We'll begin tomorrow. It's going to make you very sick...is there someone who can take care of you?" He needed to know that before he outlined all of the procedures...

Was there...? At the moment, no, but later... still, only a maybe. "There might be," Klaus answered vaguely, before pinning the Doctor with a hard gaze. "I have servants. Just tell me."

"Since the lobectomy, we've discovered that cancer still remains in your lungs, Major. Now, what that means is that we'll have to do chemotherapy and radiation..." /And pray,/ the doctor thought. "What this amounts to in simple terms is that chemotherapy is the use of drugs to kill cancer cells throughout the body...."

~~~~~

"WHY can't I call my team? *WHY* can't I call and check on Klaus!?" Dorian demanded, almost snarling. "This bloody mission is going nowhere fast and I absolutely INSIST that I need to call them!"

"The American Government, Lord Gloria, has this entire city wired. Traced. Backwards and forwards. You breathe a stray *thought* across that phone, if they even can identify your voice, or who you're talking to, and this entire mission is shot to hell," Major Khushrenada explained calmly to him.

Dorian was beginning to truly HATE that fork-browed freak, but he knew the man was right. "God, this is awful. When can we do the job, again?"

"Three weeks, I think?" Khushrenada asked, looking over to Z. "Yes, that's when the window's there and all of the information will be in one place. Can't risk you having to hit more than one target in a building like that..."

With a groan, the blond fell back onto the rumpled bed of the room in which they often stayed crammed, planning and plotting. "You said three weeks two weeks ago!" he sighed. "This is surreal..." /I HAVE to get back to Klaus!/

"There was a delay," A uttered unhappily, getting up to pace again. "If any more happen..."

"If any more happen, I'll be bloody crazy by the time we get out of here," Dorian muttered.

"Or we'll abort the mission," Z said stiffly. It had never been done before, but with each delay the risk grew more... "The Major wouldn't be happy to hear that, but--"

"Excuse me, but *I* am your commanding officer for the duration of this mission," Khushrenada snapped at Z. "Major Eberbach will not be returning to duty."

"What makes you so bloody goddamned certain?" Eroica bit out, sitting up so that his turquoise glare could find the other man unerringly. "Why is it that you keep saying that, hm?? Do you know something the rest of us don't?"

"Because I keep in contact with Bonn for developments," he snapped. "Major Eberbach's getting treatment in hospital for lung cancer."

Immediately, he realized that there was a reason why the Chief had told him to not tell everyone that information. A cacophony of voices broke out, every agent in the room shouting and speaking at once, Z turning slightly as he looked at the thief on the bed, A moving quickly close by it.

Dorian's face was purely white, so very ashen that his eyes almost seemed to glow from them, pupils cascading down to pinpoints as he looked across the way, gaze remaining fixed even when Khushrenada moved. "No," he finally said low in his throat, faintly. "No. I have to go home. I have to go back to Germany. I can't... I can't..."

"Do you really think a dying man who detests you would want you at his side?" Khushrenada snorted. "The mission is important. You must remain until it's over."

The sight of Eroica sitting there, pale and trembling, unnerved A and Z more than a bit, but how could any of them say anything -- even when he paled further, golden lashes sweeping to cover tear-filled eyes that couldn't help but leak?

"I'm sorry." With that, Khushrenada left the room.

"Sorry doesn't cover it," A muttered, the room utterly silent as the thief dropped his head forward, trying to pull himself together, a hand coming up to cover a face utterly shamed.

"In this state, Eroica's not going to do anyone any good," B agreed.

"B..." Z warned the other agent, moving to sit beside Dorian. "Lord Gloria...? Are you all right?"

"He didn't seem so badly sick when we left, did he, Z?" Dorian whispered. "He wasn't. He didn't. I would have known, wouldn't I have? I should have... I didn't want to come here..."

"He seemed fine, Lord Gloria -- there was no way to know..." Z was trying, but even so, it still sounded strained.

That golden head didn't lift, though. "Three more weeks...."

Agents were abandoning the room like rats from a sinking ship when B drew in a deep breath. "Well, the papers are in three different rooms. It'd be hell to get them all out together..."

~~~~~

"'s it normal for my veins to turn that color?" Klaus asked blandly, arm held out for the nurse as she prepared an injection for him. They'd given him a regimen of two chemo treatments a week, and a radiation treatment once every week, until his body needed to rest from it all.

So far, symptoms hadn't been enough to make him miserable. Then again, most of them had been preempted amongst great protesting. His hair, for one, had been cut hellishly short -- shorter than A's hair. But Doctors had assured him that the stress of having such wonderful long hair fall out in chunks or constant strands would have been worse than just cutting it.

The fatigue was dragging him and just when it felt like his energy caught back up with him, he was in for another treatment. Nausea was something completely different -- he didn't feel like eating, and ate little in response. The hysterical old butler had taken to leaving little plates of food in places that Klaus spent a lot of time in, in hopes that he'd eat more.

Dorian... would probably do the same thing, whenever he came back from the mission.

"I'm afraid so," the nurse told him with that peculiar false cheer that health professionals often adopted. "Comes with the territory, you know. It'll all go away once we're done with the chemo." THAT would be when he was better, or when it was decided they could go no further.

"'m going to have more holes than a druggie," he growled as she swabbed the spot with betadine first. "How can you be so cheerful?"

"It's a way to get through the day," she told him. "Besides, hadn't you rather see someone smiling at you than scowling? All things considered, it's better to smile and be cheerful than be unhappy all of the time."

"I'd like for once for some doctor to tell me when something's going wrong," he said, looking up at her with dangerous eyes for a moment, before letting them drop. "Every fucking Doctor tells me I'm okay, and then I come in for a physical and 'm not..."

The nurse just looked at him, though, and smiled again. "Well, I'm a nurse, not a doctor, and you're taking chemo, so you obviously aren't okay, but maybe this will help you to be." She adjusted the IV, eyed the bag momentarily and nodded. "Would you like some juice?"

Before he felt sick to his stomach... "Yes." There were others who'd come in for the same sort of treatment, and they usually had a friend or a loved one to sit beside them and talk to while she did that. This agent had been coming in for four weeks now, though, twice a week, mostly without saying a word. He came alone and drove himself back to wherever home might have been. "Thanks."

"What kind? Today, we have apple, grape and orange juice and maybe even a little cranberry."

"Grape." He looked a little grateful for the offer of something to drink, as he settled back in the chair, trying to not watch the IV drip into his arm.

"I'll be right back," she promised, and then she left him alone to head back to the small station where the other nurses were working and fetch him his drink.

He wanted a lot more just then than a glass of grape juice; he wanted Dorian, he wanted to go back to work, he wanted to be fucking better... and he wanted a cigarette. He wanted to kick himself *hard*.

"Here you go. There's a pan here, if it makes you feel ill, all right?" the nurse said, handing him a glass of grape juice. She'd moved awfully quickly, but nurses in that particular area of the hospital often did -- if they could get a patient to eat or drink, they encouraged it, and made sure they got things to them while the patient still felt as though they might still *want* something!

Klaus held the glass in one hand, sipping slowly from the glass, eyes drifting constantly. He was restless, and the IV would take at least another hour for its slow drip to finish. After that, he'd go home and wander until he was tired again, sleep, and start all over again.

If only Dorian would call... if only he would come home... Even the Alphabet was completely out of touch, however, and it was impossible to learn anything, even with the people he still knew. The entire mission was locked up in silence, and the chance of hearing from any of them, and particularly from Dorian, was slim and none.

He hated being dependent or wanting anyone. It was weak, it was pathetic, and it left him with a void he wouldn't have even noticed having if Dorian hadn't wedged himself so deeply into his life.

He set the glass aside at last, nearly finished but not quite. Then he leaned back in the chair again to look at the ceiling and count tiles.

Getting off the plane in Bonn was the absolute best thing that had happened to Dorian Red Gloria in six weeks. The mission had been atrocious, those damned fucking Americans had been just as utterly bloody miserably disorganized as they always were, and so it had expanded from a three week mission to a five week mission to a *six* week one.

He had never been so glad to have his feet hit the soil of Europe in his *life*. "Finally!"

"Mission completed, and successfully," Khushrenada sighed from behind him, quickly followed by Z and A.

"Oh, m'lord!" James's voice cried as the little accountant came bounding across the tarmac.

"James, darling, *tell* me you have a car for me," Dorian demanded, moving forward and pulling off his sunglasses. There seemed to be quite a crew waiting for the lot of them, including a few he vaguely recognized.

"He's home again," Khushrenada's Chinese man said. "And there's a *BLOND* with him. *TWO* blonds, but at least we know one of them. Hmph."

"That bastard!" Khushrenada's blond snarled. "That fucking..."

"We've got a car for you, m'lord -- and plane tickets to England! It'll be so good to have you home again, m'lo~ord!"

"I won't be going to England, Jamesie," Dorian told him gently, as Major Khushrenada tried desperately to explain to the very ANGRY men bearing down upon him. "I'm sorry. You'll have to take care of things for me, I can't right now..."

"B-but m'lord!!!!!" James began to wail, only to be nearly picked up by the diminutive Bonham.

"M'lord. When will you be returning to England?" He seemed to know the why of Dorian wanting to be in Germany, even if he didn't know the particulars. The particulars weren't his business.

"Whenever it's over, Bonham, one way or another. I don't know when. I have to go, find out what's going on, how... how the treatment's going," he said numbly over the wails of James and the shouting still nearby.

"He called us once to see if you'd come back yet," Bonham told him as Jones carried the little crying man off. "I'll get a car and we'll all go back to London. You'll take the one we've already got, m'lord."

"Thank you, so much..." The sunglasses were shoved back on to hide the terrified and almost tearful look taking over his face. "I'll call you, Bonham, as soon as I've got certain details, as soon as I know anything."

"Right, m'lord. You be off now. We'll wring these NATO blokes for payment." Bonham tossed his lord the keys. "'s your Lamborghini."

"Thank you," Dorian said, and then he was off, and glad to leave the squalling (and the fight!) behind him.

The trip to Schloss Eberbach seemed to take forever, despite the phenomenal speed at which he travelled the back roads he knew to get there. Nothing could have gotten him to Klaus quickly enough -- not plane or train or anything, for nothing could get him there instantaneously. When he pulled up in the front drive, he damned near forgot to turn his lovely little red car off, he was in such a rush to get to the front door.

It was locked -- of course -- and so he banged frantically upon the knocker, demanding an answer. "Damn you, damn you, come on!"

"Lord Gloria...?" It was the butler, cracking open the door slowly as if not sure that he wanted to let the madman in or not.

"Yes, yes! Tell me he's here," Dorian demanded. "Tell me!"

"He... yes, the Master is in," the poor man startled, taking a step back so that Dorian could enter. "He's in the parlour."

"Thank you," Dorian got out even as he moved quickly past, tossing his keys to the butler. "There's a bit of luggage in the boot, please get someone to grab it for me," he said, heading down the hallway. "Klaus!" he called, almost running. "Klaus!"

He paused in the parlour doorway, looking inside. "Klaus?"

The bed was still there, just as it had been when they'd stayed there a few months before. There were a bit more books now, more of Klaus's personal effects -- proof that he was staying downstairs again -- and the man himself was dozing in an armchair at his desk. At Dorian's shout he startled awake, both eyes opening at once, book sliding from his hands a little, forgotten between sleeping and waking up again. "Was?"

"Oh, my darling," Dorian whispered, perfectly appalled to find tears rising up even as he flung himself forward, dropping to his knees before Klaus and looking up at him. Every inch of beautiful black hair was gone, cut close to the scalp, and that alone was almost enough to make him weep. When added to the obvious weight loss and Klaus's pallor, however... "Oh, my darling, I was so lost without you, I wanted to call or to come home and they wouldn't let me even write so much as a note..."

"You came home..." It didn't matter at all that Dorian hadn't been able to contact him, or that it had been so damned long -- he was back! The German started to stand, hands on Dorian's shoulders to pull him up. "You're back!"

"Of course I am, darling," Dorian whispered, wrapping his arms tightly about Klaus as he, too, stood. "Of course I am. I couldn't bear another moment without you, I was ready to kill that... that... fork-browed *freak* of a Major they left me with, and if Z and A hadn't held me back, I believe I would have, and rushed straight home to you! It was unbearable without you, I never want to go anywhere again that you aren't..."

Klaus clutched him tightly close, almost as if fearing to ever let go of Dorian. "You're back. I... almost didn't think you'd come back." Roughly spoken words as he breathed in the familiar and often dreamt of smell of Dorian's hair. What reasons did Dorian to have to want to come back to him? "'ve missed you."

"So much. So much. Tell me everything, darling, every word, every thought, every moment I've been gone, tell me about it," Dorian pleaded.

"'s not been much going on," Klaus murmured against his hair, still holding on. "I'm getting chemo and radiation therapy."

"And I haven't been here for you," came the whisper. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I knew, almost four weeks ago, that you were sick, and I... I *humiliated* myself by crying in front of the Alphabet, and that nasty man wouldn't even let me call you. It was utterly unbearable, Klaus!"

The German could only manage a twitch of a sympathetic smile. "You're here now. 's enough."

"When do you go again?" Dorian asked, the sound muffled. "Shouldn't you be laying down, darling? And your hair..." He drew back, reached up, touched the bristling hair atop his head. "Somehow, it still feels just wonderful, sweetheart."

"I go tomorrow. I'm not going to break if I'm not sleeping all the time. And..." Dorian could see a rueful smile. "There's a coil of it in the drawer. Doctors made me save it."

"Whatever for?" Dorian asked, leaning up to kiss him lightly. "I love it terribly, though, so I'm glad. You're so beautiful, darling. I've missed you so awfully. I'll come with you tomorrow, all right?"

Slightly chapped lips moved against his with eagerness, turning a light kiss into something far deeper. He'd missed kissing Dorian, having Dorian there at *all*, so a good 'welcome back' kiss was in order for them both. Only after he'd re-explored and recharted Dorian's mouth and lips with his own did he pull back. "Yes, you're coming with me."

"Marvelous, darling," Dorian whispered. "I'd go anywhere with you, anywhere at all, and perhaps when there are days you feel up to something, we'll reconvene our little attic ventures, and you'll be well again soon, I believe it, I know it, it must be so... Oh, my darling Klaus..."

"Calm down, Dorian," Klaus breathed in his ear. "Let's go into another room? I think I've already slept enough to last me another few days. I'm really capable of doing anything."

"I don't want you to wear yourself out, darling," Dorian began, though whatever Klaus had on his mind, he was certainly willing to do!

"Wear myself out," Klaus grumbled, shaking his head for a moment before he grasped Dorian's forearms in his hands. "Dorian. I'm being realistic in what I can do; I'm awake today, and I'm going to do something. Your choice."

A slow smile spread across the blond's generous mouth, eyes narrowing slightly in sweet thought. "Then let's go upstairs, darling, or lock the door, and I'll please you like there's no tomorrow."

It was a suggestion that obviously delighted Klaus, but... "Out of the house, if possible? I haven't been anywhere but here and the hospital since I left the villa."

"The garden, then," Dorian said, "or the kitchen can pack up a quick picnic and we'll drive for a while. Would you like that?"

"Yes." He was decisive about that, even as he checked a clock -- still very early afternoon. Plenty of time for things to be done before the next treatment wiped him of energy.

"Have a seat, then, sweetheart," Dorian told him with quite a bit of cheer. "I'll tell the kitchen staff and be back in *no* time!"

With a sigh, Klaus acquiesced and sat down, picking up his book and setting it on the desk. The adrenaline of knowing Dorian was back was still racing through him, and he was glad he'd napped away most of the morning.

It seemed such a short time before his lover returned, lugging a basket that was fit to burst, it looked. "They've loaded us down, darling. Baguettes, ham, smoked gouda, an *ungodly* amount of sliced beef, ham and turkey, mustard, even *mayonnaise*, two fruit juices, milk in a thermos, all sorts of things -- chocolate *cake*, even. You'd think there were more than six of us instead of just two!"

"They're trying to get me to eat more," Klaus shrugged. "'m not really hungry, but I'll try. Do you want me to get a blanket so we can lay it out?"

Dorian shook his head, though, curls tumbling everywhere in wild profusion. "Your butler's bringing one, darling," he said. "You only have to come with me...." A devilish wink prompted a sudden bad imitation. "Come viz me to ze Kazbah..."

It prompted a soft chuckle from the German, and a rueful look. "What have I done to deserve this?"

"Only been the most wonderful daring wild German ever to cross my path," Dorian teased as he gently prodded Klaus into the hallway. "Beautiful, intriguing, maddening, and utterly and completely irresistible to boot!"

"Let me carry the basket Dorian," Klaus prodded offering a hand even as he stepped into the hallway.

"I've got it," Dorian said cheerfully, nearly running into the butler. "Oh, hullo. I see you've found a blanket..."

Klaus took the blanket with a slight nod to the man, glad to at least be allowed carry that. "We can take the Benz."

"Well, the Lamborghini's still just outside the doorway..." Dorian teased.

"And the car you drove up to the villa is still in the back of the house," Klaus reminded him, giving the idea of the Lamborghini a very obvious 'no' with his eyes.

The thief only smiled at him though, and by the time they walked out the front door, the Benz was there and the Lamborghini was gone. "All right and tight, just as you like, darling."

"I've spent a lot of time tuning this car lately." There really wasn't much else for him to do! "It's in perfect condition. Better than new."

"You DO love your car, darling, but that's all right," Dorian declared, opening the back door and depositing the basket inside before climbing into the driver's seat. Klaus, in the meantime, buckled his own seatbelt on the other side. "So long as you love me more," he whispered, kissing Klaus's cheek, grateful that the butler had shut the door so that he could do so.

"I do." It was both an assurance and a hard to admit thing for Klaus, but he had to face more and more often that he needed the thief who'd dogged him for so many years. "I missed you badly. I've never missed someone like that in my life."

"Well, you won't have to miss me again," Dorian told him quietly as he kissed Klaus tenderly again. "I won't be leaving you 'til you're well."

Another quick kiss, and Klaus pulled back to settle into the passenger side of the Benz. "Dorian, what if I don't live?"

"You will." It was said with fierce belief as the car was started, those incredibly blue eyes turning on him. "You will, darling. I believe it, and I know it's true. If anyone can beat this, you can."

"I've already been told I have a forty percent chance," Klaus murmured easily, strangely nonchalant about it, "of surviving. I'll never return to the field again."

"You'll live," Dorian said again softly as they began to drive, heading out to the road. "Belief is half the battle, you know..."

"I'd like to live. I've never been happier in my life." He swallowed, throat aching painfully for a moment as scenery began to pass. "I haven't given up."

"Good," he was told softly. "We won't give up, darling... and if you grow too tired to fight, then I'll fight for you, only never leave me. I couldn't bear it if you did, after so much..."

"Promise me now to never pull any of that romantic 'pining to death' shit because of me."

The hard swallow Dorian gave was almost audible. "Darling, if I promised, that'd be a lie, now wouldn't it?"

"I don't understand why you would," Klaus sighed, rubbing the side of his face with one hand. "You're lived without me for most of your life."

"You've also been the focus of it for over a third, darling," came the slow response. "Even more than art, you know. When you get right down to it, I love you more than anything else on Earth..."

"I wish I had've realized sooner." Truthful words, half sighed from Klaus. "But at least I realized at all."

Dorian only smiled, though. "Yes. Yes. I've never been so happy..."

"'f you see somewhere good, just stop," Klaus murmured, leaning an arm against the door, hand in his chin.

"At any rate, darling, you're going to get well," Dorian declared. "There's no other option for it, no other way to go. It'll be all right, you know..."

"Do I look worried, Dorian?"

"Not really, no," Dorian admitted, pulling the car to the side of the road and stopping beneath a huge oak tree. "But then, you never do, darling."

"Then I'm a damn good actor," Klaus sighed as he opened the door of the car. Dorian's presence was something to lift his mood again, desperately needed in the face of nothing but bad news and bad days.

"Lay out the blanket, sweetheart, I've got the basket. It'll only take a moment," the tall blond told him, slipping out to open the back door of the car.

Long legs carried him beneath the tree, and Klaus laid it out with an efficient snap. How very domestic to be doing that, yet... yet it was a compromise between his leanings towards dignity and Dorian's towards frivolity. And it was the first time in weeks he'd been out of the Schloss for a reason other than treatment.

When Dorian came back, Klaus was already seated on the blanket, leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him.

"Well," Dorian declared, settling down beside him and beginning to unpack the basket, "now's time for the ultimate question -- beef, ham or turkey? Oh, and there are pickles!"

No, the ultimate question for Klaus was if he wanted anything at all. "Beef, I guess." /They packed *far* too much.../ His staff wanted him to eat, though, so it was no surprise.

"Here, darling," Dorian murmured, handing him a sandwich layered with mustard, beef, smoked gouda and pickle before shifting to pour some cold milk. "This is JUST the thing!"

From the look on Klaus's face, complete trepidation as he picked up part of it, he might as well have been contemplating eating a gun. "Don't pour two glasses of that, Dorian -- or you'll have to drink them both yourself."

"Yes, darling," Dorian said easily. "Would you rather have juice? We've got apple and grape, I think..."

"Either," Klaus murmured, pushing down the beginnings of nausea as he took a bite, chewing slowly. Tasted good, but... "'s a nice day out."

"I'm so tired," Dorian said with a sigh, leaning back on an elbow after making a sandwich for himself and pouring juice for Klaus. "Seeing you makes up for all of that, though. It makes every day into a beautiful day, did you know that?"

Shaking his head, Klaus set the sandwich aside and just leaned back, on elbows now to be even with Dorian. "Tell me about the mission -- I thought it was supposed to have been shorter. How badly did Khushrenada foul it up?"

"It was those ridiculous Americans, darling. They're so paranoid, even if it *is* justifiable," Dorian sighed. "I thought I'd NEVER get to go in! They kept everything separate for six awful *weeks*! Six *weeks*! And Khushrenada told me you were ill at the beginning of the third. I was all to pieces, but A and Z were terribly sweet to me about it..."

"I told Agent A at the start of the last mission to keep an eye on you," Klaus murmured in a sigh of breath, letting his eyes drift over the grass. "I forgot how restless I get without work to do."

A slow smile stole over Dorian's face as he laid down his sandwich on a napkin. "Want me to take your mind off of it?" he whispered, leaning over to offer Klaus his mouth.

It was a public setting, and yet... yet, it wasn't. Who would recognize him now to be Major Eberbach? No trademark suit, hair or gun... "Yes." And Dorian still wanted him, even though there wasn't much left of Iron Klaus at the moment.

"My darling man," Dorian whispered, lightly pushing him down so that he was on his back and coming over him. "I love you madly, for always..." Fingers were parting the buttons on his shirt, allowing that maddening mouth access to his flesh, and oh, Dorian plied it so well!

It wasn't until the kiss was starting to taper off, that sweet search between heated mouths, that Klaus protested Dorian's hands. "No, Dorian, we will not... in public..."

"Public, darling?" Dorian teased, sending a hand lightly to stroke down Klaus's pale side, concern flitting over his face at the bruises there -- flesh that had once been iron was weakened by so many drugs, and his lover seemed to be bruising rather too easily for Dorian's own comfort. "There's no one here but you, me and the Benz, sweetheart..."

"You've turned me into a decadent fag," Klaus sighed, even as he slid a hand to try to remove Dorian's shirt. "No one better come by... 's a public road, you know."

"If someone comes by, I'll run them off," Dorian promised on the breath of a whisper, nudging Klaus's shirt the rest of the way off and working his way down to one of those lovely, perked nipples that seemed so deliciously close and so *perfect* to fit in his mouth.

"You..." A tight gasp struggled out of his throat, arching up against Dorian's mouth. "No, 's too risky..."

The voice that answered him was slightly teasing, but it didn't stop Dorian's tender assault for so much as a second. "Would you rather go home and do this, darling?" he purred, tongue lapping out and teasing at pebbled flesh before his lips closed around Klaus's left nipple to suckle with a little moan. "Hmmmmmm...."

The suckle got him more of an outcry than anything else had, and Klaus twisted out of his grasp with a surprising speed, away from his skilled mouth. It didn't make sense for a moment, until he saw the raw-looking patch of skin just above it, strange coloring differences. Klaus wanted to explain but for a moment, embarrassment overrode that urge.

A little gasp of shame came from Dorian, blue eyes welling with guilt. "Oh, Klaus... I'm so sorry, I should be more careful! Oh, darling..."

"Don't apologize," Klaus murmured, still not settling into place again. He'd be on edge for a little while longer, at least! "I get radiation on that side."

"I should have thought," Dorian said softly, leaning up to kiss him. "Darling... is it all right if we do this? I mean, it won't upset some doctor somewhere, will it?"

"Do I care if it upsets some doctor somewhere?"

Fact was, he hadn't asked, and the information hadn't been offered to him -- what were the chances of him, Iron Klaus, Major Eberbach, the man who'd come to the hospital at least three times a week, alone and sharp-tongued, making love with someone?

"Probably not, darling," Dorian admitted, "but I never, ever want to do anything to harm you..."

"I doubt it would." He'd ask the next time, to his chagrin -- and if he was told he couldn't, well, too bad. He still would.

Dorian's smile didn't falter, though. "In the meantime, darling... What can I do to please you?"

He settled nearer, at last, if only for a moment. "We'll do... this at home, all right?"

"That sounds just marvelous, darling," Dorian agreed. "D'you think you can eat a bit more of your sandwich? Perhaps a cookie... the cooks included a few, though I know you dislike sweets..."

"I was going to eat more and then you didn't give me a chance," Klaus scowled, reaching for his shirt first, to slide it back on properly.

"Sorry, darling," he was told with some cheer as Dorian slid to the side. "I'm afraid you drive *me* to distraction, so..."

"It's been a while since you've attacked me in the middle of trying to do something." And from Klaus's tone, as he buttoned half his shirt, it seemed like he'd missed it. He *had*, too, in ways that Dorian couldn't imagine...

"Ahh, I'll try to do it more often, then, darling. Shouldn't be a problem, as I'm going nowhere you aren't until you're all better," he was informed.

"Your men must miss you -- you haven't been around them in months," Klaus told him as he took a bite in a way that looked forcedly casual.

"Jamesie bawled at the airport, but everyone else seemed to understand that I want to be with you," came the murmured reply. "Bonham is taking care of things. I'll need to get in touch with him, let him know what's going on with me, that sort of thing, but other than that, everything's under control. They miss me, I'm sure, but I think they all understand."

"As long as things are under control, then that's good," Klaus murmured, gesturing to Dorian's plate that he should eat, too. "You look like you could use a nap, Dorian. Did you sleep on the plane?"

"I couldn't," the Briton admitted, sitting cross-legged and picking up his sandwich. "I was all nerves the whole way, utterly mad to get back to you."

"If something bad had happened to me, A would have found out and told you. You didn't have to worry." Strange, how he said that as if nothing bad *had* happened to him -- but it had! Or was he trying to pretend... who knew what. It was obvious to everyone that his health was failing him.

"I know, darling," Dorian soothed. "Not being with you is terrible, though. I've spent ten years not being with you, and now that I *can* be..." The smile he gave Klaus was brilliant. "Now that I can be, I want to be, as much as I can."

"You will," he promised, and it was a promise that he could keep -- for as long as possible, Dorian would be at his side. Klaus had a lingering sense it wouldn't be so very long. Three more bites he managed, before setting it down to sip slowly at the juice.

For a while, silence passed between them, Dorian finishing off his sandwich and his milk, eating a cookie slowly as he looked at Klaus. The other man almost seemed to be napping, and for the first and only time, he considered the possibility that Klaus might not survive, no matter how strong he was, no matter how much Dorian wanted him to do so. It was a terrible, macabre thought, and he abandoned it quickly, smiling at his sleepy lover. "Darling? Would you like to go back now?"

Words that stirred Klaus to motion again, even if it was a lazy one -- he finished the rest of his juice, and grabbed a cookie, sitting up. "Let's drive around for a while."

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," Dorian told him, leaning over to tenderly steal a kiss, worried. /My poor darling.../ "I'll just pack everything up."

"Good." To actually see Klaus eating anything sweet was strange. He'd always sworn up and down that sweets gave people 'fat tummy virus' and he didn't want anything to do with that. Now, though... he knew that any extra weight would be good. And for a cookie, it wasn't so bad. Simple, and it didn't make his stomach toss.

"Hmmmm, you taste like vanilla," Dorian told him, stealing one more kiss before packing up everything *but* the cookies and the juice that he'd given Klaus. Whatever Klaus would eat, Dorian certainly wasn't going to hide from him!

Klaus sat up slowly, languidly, and buttoned another button of his shirt before picking up the juice and the cookies -- it was obvious Dorian had left it to tempt him with. Soon, very soon, Dorian would settle in league with the butler, and they would conspire together to leave food in odd places for him, like he was an eccentric pet that forgot to eat. He moved off the blanket and then started to fold it up.

"Here, darling, let me, I can get it," Dorian told him, shifting forward.

"God fucking *dammit*, I'm not going to exhaust myself folding a fucking blanket!" Klaus snapped, movements sharpening as he folded it perfectly and with military precision.

"Sorry," Dorian murmured sheepishly. "Let's go, then, hmm?"

"Yes." The good mood was still there, but Klaus's temper was fraying fast, as could be seen from the way he slammed open the back door of the Benz, put the blanket there, and in a thought, put the juice and cookies away, too. Eating in a car was never a good idea.

"Well, darling," Dorian asked, sliding behind the wheel, "where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere." Klaus murmured, trying to not be angry. Not at Dorian; the man had always tried to coddle him when he could, but there had to be a way to explain that Dorian was passing the acceptable degree!

"All right." Quietly, the car was started and they headed out, turning at random down this road or that, quiet together as they rode along. Finally, Dorian couldn't help himself -- he had to say SOMETHING! "So, what time's your appointment tomorrow, Klaus?"

"Nine a.m." It wasn't said as much as it was sighed. "Just chemo."

"In Bonn?" Dorian asked. "I'll drive if you like, so long as you can tell me how to get there..."

For a moment, Dorian feared protest, but it didn't come. "I've had to drive myself these past weeks -- 's hard to do on the way back. I'd appreciate that."

"I'm glad to be of service, darling," Klaus was told softly. "Truly. I... I just want to stay with you and help you get well."

Klaus sighed quietly, leaning back against the head-rest. "I know. But... stop the 'help getting well' bit, all right? I just want you around. Just be here for me, and it's enough."

The voice that responded was so quiet, and so perfectly Dorian, the Dorian that only he ever seemed to be allowed to see. "Yes. Yes. I will be."

"Thank you." And the Klaus he saw was the only one Dorian had ever *wanted* to see -- a strange mix between kind and fiery. Klaus even let himself go as far as putting his hand on Dorian's knee, patting gently.

It earned him a smile, sweet, tender, as the car headed back in the direction they'd come. "Let's go home, darling. I want to lay down with you. I... I want to hold you, if you don't mind, and perhaps sleep for a bit, close to you..."

"All right." Klaus stroked his leg a little in response to that, managing a little smile for the earl. "But I'll warn you now that's all I'll do tomorrow."

"Darling, I was up all night last night and I spent six hours crammed into a military plane with the Alphabet and Monster-Brows as he bemoaned his fate when China-boy and The Blond caught him getting off of it with *me* in sight. I could sleep all of tonight *and* most of tomorrow, so long as you're beside me," Dorian chuckled.

"'s good then." Klaus nodded, resting his head back against the head-rest again. "He didn't try anything on you, did he?"

"He made me cry, darling," Dorian admitted with some shame. "Even if he would've liked to, I think A would've ripped his head off, and I *know* I would've just bawled again because it wasn't you..."

"When and *if* I ever run into him, I'm going to make at least a few minutes of his life miserable," Klaus promised. "Arrogant fucker, thinking he can do my job."

That drew a laugh out of the man driving the car, Dorian humming a bit to himself as they drove along. "Oh, darling, if YOU'D been there, I'd have been done in two weeks, definitely NOT six! And even if it *had* been six, I wouldn't have *minded* it..."

"Three weeks, because you would have found a way to cost me a week. Probably prying you out of a jail, but we still would have accomplished the mission," Klaus smirked in a small twitch of his lips.

At that, Dorian *laughed* outright! "Well, darling, it's true, isn't it? Hmmm, but so much more fun it would have been!"

"Fun... huh," Klaus scoffed, smiling still. "Another odd mission to put down in the books."

"EVERYTHING is fun with you, darling. I've yet to find myself anything but entertained when you're around, one way or another," Dorian said as they turned into the driveway of Schloss Eberbach.

"One way or another?" Klaus held still, until they were parked, and then looked directly at Dorian. "How's that?"

Dorian smiled at him. "Once, I was always entertained wondering when you might shoot me. Now, I get to wonder when you'll kiss me next. Life is always exciting with you!"

"I've never shot you," Klaus reminded him, leaning over to kiss Dorian firmly, "and I've kissed you often."

"Mmmmhmmmmm," Dorian agreed, opening his mouth slightly to allow Klaus to kiss him again. "But you always leave me wondering, Klaus. You're magnificent."

"You don't kiss -- you tackle," Klaus accused lightly, eating for a moment at Dorian's mouth before he pulled back. "Inside. My *real* bed, upstairs."

For a moment, a strange yearning ache opened Dorian up and a tremor snuck through him. "Really?" he whispered, looking at Klaus for a moment. "Upstairs?"

"Ja; why not?" Klaus looked quizzical for a moment, not understanding why Dorian was reacting that way.

"I figured after you caught me in it, you'd never let me in there again, even now," he replied lightly, smiling.

"After... ahhh..." He realized, and looked a little sheepish as he got out of the car, standing slowly and stretching languidly. "Well. I got over that."

"I know, darling, but still," Dorian said with a little laugh, rising and folding his arms atop the car momentarily. "Shall we go in, then?"

"We can leave the things here and the butler will get them," Klaus told him, already starting towards the Schloss.

Wordlessly, Dorian agreed by the simple action of following along behind him. They went in through a back door, surprising a maid who looked as if she was going to pass clean out at the sight of them, and walked up a set of back stairs with which Dorian was at least partially familiar. After all, he'd broken into the Schloss a time or four just to peer at the painting of Tyrian...!

Klaus seemed to be taking the stairs well -- if unsurely, as could be seen from the white-knuckled grip he kept on the hand-rail the entire flight, up on, and then to the third floor, pace slowing minutely. The urge to offer help was passed, but Dorian remained close behind him 'til they reached the landing and then lightly put an arm around Klaus's waist to steady him.

"Come on, darling," he whispered. "It's only a bit farther."

"I can make it," Klaus murmured, though he didn't resist the help. Beneath his hand, Dorian could feel *too* much. Klaus had lost weight rapidly in four weeks, and was hiding it well with his clothes.

When they reached the floor itself, Klaus automatically turned down the hallway towards his room, and Dorian let loose of him just a little.

"Mmm, darling, I can't wait to nap with you," he sighed.

"That's the dangerously lustful thief I've missed," Klaus teased, pressing open his bedroom door and walking in with familiarity. Everything looked pretty normal for his room, sheets, everything dusted, thought it looked unusually barren.

"Hmmmm, your bed is the most marvelous place for sleeping," Dorian sighed as they moved into the room, shutting the door behind them. "I can only imagine that it's marvelous for everything else as well!"

"We'll have to test it as soon as possible, then," Klaus murmured, toeing off his shoes as he started to take off his shirt at he same time.

"Now might be nice," Dorian agreed, reaching forward to brush Klaus's fingers away from the buttons and undo them himself. "Hmm, there's something magically wonderful about undressing you, darling..."

"'s just because you like to see me naked. There's something 'magical' about undressing you, too..." A flit of a smile, as Klaus started to unbutton Dorian's shirt.

"I confess," Dorian whispered, kissing his nose. "I DO like seeing you naked. 'Course, I like seeing you pretty much any way I can get you, but there's something special about seeing you that way..."

A quiet bit of laughter, and he was kissed again, Klaus's hands -- steady, sure of what he wanted to do -- pushing Dorian's shirt off of him. "Me in you, today, or the other way around?"

"Any way's good, darling, as long as it's us," Dorian said, delighting in the sound of Klaus's laughter, something he surely would have said didn't exist even a year ago. "So long as it's you and me and you're touching me..."

"Yes." He wanted it, desperately, just then -- wanted to do things while he felt pretty good, before any doctor could say it was a bad idea. "We can nap after this, then..." His hands were on Dorian's sides as he bent to kiss the earl's neck, gentle nips.

It gained him a sigh and an arm about his neck, Dorian's head dropping back to give him access even as those nimble thieving fingers did away with the button and zipper of Klaus's pants, pushing them lightly off of his hips along with his underwear. "Darling," he whispered. "My dearest, truest darling..."

"Yes... I want you, Dorian. Don't care how. Missed you. 's been too long..." He pressed closer for a moment, shuddering against Dorian's neck before he slid down to do the same against the thief's collar-bone.

The soft kisses and caresses of Klaus's lips were sending the most exquisite tingles shivering down Dorian's spine, to the very tips of his fingertips. There was nothing more ecstatically wonderful than the feeling of Klaus against him, naked as he now mostly was, pants pooled at his ankles. Impatiently, he tugged the fastenings of his own loose, kicking them off and moving more deeply into his lover's grasp. "Oh, God, yes!"

Klaus stepped out of his own, and stepped backwards towards the bed. "'s good to feel you again... missed touching you." Intermittent mumbles against warm skin as he kissed and nipped.

A breathless little sound of laughter cascaded loose as Dorian fell into the bed, reaching for Klaus. "Oh, darling, yes, so much more than anyone could imagine!!"

Oh, but Klaus didn't have to imagine -- he *knew* what it was like to not feel Dorian's warmth against him, and to *want* it there... An errant hand half tugged down the sheets, and that was enough for him to bother with, stroking his hands along Dorian's torso as they climbed in, touching every place he could.

Sounds of encouragement came tenderly as Dorian moaned into Klaus's kisses, his own hands caressing steadily to draw loose sighs of pleasure. He could feel every inch of his skin glowing with the pleasure of being in Klaus's arms, of being in Klaus's bed, of coming home. There was nothing more wonderful than being where he was, legs tangled together, arms around one another... "Oh, darling," he whispered. "Please, yes..."

"Please what? Tell me what, Dorian..." Rich baritone in low whispers coaxing him to respond as Klaus savored the press and give of Dorian's body against his own. Ah, to hold again! "'s good to feel you again..."

"Please, darling, anything," Dorian told him, kissing him again. "Anything, anything, I'd do anything for you to keep touching me like this, anything to never let go of you again..."

"Shhh..." Klaus caught Dorian's wrists and then his lips, stilling him. "Calm down some.... we've got all night." And if he went too fast, he'd start coughing, and that would exhaust him too quickly.

That brought from the slim blond a quiet sigh and a steady slowing of motion. "All right, darling. You're right. It just seems like whatever I get of you can never be enough of you. I'll always want you, and always want more..."

"Slow this time," Klaus murmured, taking a light kiss. "All right?"

"All right," Dorian breathed, closing his eyes slowly and just enjoying the touch of Klaus against him, the warmth of the line of his body pressing so close. "Slow..."

"Yes..." A quiet urging, as Klaus shifted against him to press kisses against his neck again. Fast, frenzied pleasure was good, but he wanted to enjoy a long delayed reunion.

Dorian's arms slid around his shoulders, the British man wrapping a leg slowly around Klaus's as he sighed, the ball of his foot lightly rubbing at a calf. "Mmmmmm," he purred, a hand shifting carefully to find a nipple, soothingly stroking over it this time, careful not to bruise. "Oh, that feels perfect..."

"Yes, 't does," Klaus agreed, shifting minutely to rub his hands down along the line of Dorian's spine, stroking tenderly for a moment before he pulled their groins into contact. It earned him a shuddering little sound from his lover, and the feel of hands lightly rubbing over his scalp, tugging him close.

"Oh, God, darling." A slow tremor danced down Dorian, felt in Klaus's palms, his fingertips. The leg wrapped around his tightened, the man's other leg pressing against the mattress to push them up, push them closer. "Oh, God..."

This would be what they did, then, Klaus decided, getting a knee between Dorian's thigh so he could have equal leverage with his lover, twining their legs closer together to strengthen the contact of groin to groin. That almost rough rub had been so long missed, the feel of Dorian's pleasured tremors.

They rocked against one another slowly, moans sounding between kisses, fingers twining together. The steady push of erection to erection, hip to hip, brought slow sighs, steady ripples of pleasure to both of them. Dorian whispered sweetly in Klaus's ear, love words, nonsense sounds that he loved to hear. Tender, it was, and delicious, coming together slowly and with the most exquisite of pleasures.

He'd missed, too, the sensation of coming against his lover's body, while Dorian came, too -- it was a feeling so far removed from his own hand's touch against him, the rub of silken soft skin. What should have been a slow movement had inevitably sped up, but it had been leisurely for them both compared to how they'd begun. "Ah, Dorian... My thief..." softly huffed breaths as Klaus tried to catch his, kissing at Dorian's lips.

The sound of those words were wonderful, singing straight to Dorian's veins, and he whimpered sweetly, trembling with the wonder of it. A hand snuck down between them, gathering both erections and stroking them as they kissed, the blond man beginning to shake with impending orgasm, panting beneath the lips that so exquisitely stole his own breath. "Hunnnhhh!!"

A thick splash of semen against his stomach was all the permission Klaus needed to bite lightly against Dorian's bottom lip, stifling his own howl of pleasured completion brought on by Dorian's touch.

Moments later, they lay together, Dorian's fingers trailing slowly up and down Klaus's spine. He was unable to stop the yawn that he gave, shivering slightly. "Mmmm, darling... My sweetheart..."

"I was worried for a while... that you wouldn't come back in time... for us to do this again," Klaus murmured in a quiet tone, kissing lightly at Dorian's lips, cheeks, face, wherever he could manage to reach. It would take him twice as long to get his breath back, as it took Dorian, but the feelings had all been worth it... "'re all I have."

"Darling..." Dorian's voice was sad and tired. "Darling, I'd cross the world 'round to get back to you, no matter when or where..."

He wanted to snap at Dorian that he *hadn't* been there when he'd needed the assurances, at the beginning of this horrible mess, and that the earl was only arriving when he was starting to actually adjust to this non-life... But he bit his tongue, and just kissed Dorian again. Now was not a time to be bitter. "Go to sleep."

"'m sorry, darling," Dorian murmured, burrowing his head against Klaus's shoulder as they moved so that Klaus was laying on his back, Dorian curled against his side. "It's been an impossible few days, and I'm drifting off..."

"Sleep well," he wished softly. He himself was still awake and would be for at least a few more moments. A chance to savor and re-memorize what Dorian felt like against him.

"I love you, Klaus," Dorian whispered sleepily, already almost gone.

"I know..." And then, Klaus waited until he was sure that Dorian was gone into sleep. "Love you...."

~~~~~

"Well, darling," Dorian said, pulling into the hospital parking garage, "looks like we made it." He chanced upon a space right on the first floor level and parked the car.

"Thank you for driving," Klaus murmured, opening the door smoothly, looking as if he were about to get out... but then the tall German stalled, turning back into the car to kiss Dorian softly.

"You're welcome," Dorian whispered, smiling at him. "Let's go in, shall we?"

A nod, and they got out of the car, Klaus leading the way. Hh was familiar with the hospital -- almost too familiar for comfort's sake. He kept his pace even, though, so he wouldn't lose Dorian's presence at his side as he led the thief towards the cancer-ward. "There's a little waiting room, if you want to wait in there instead..."

"If I can go with you, I'd just as soon do that," Dorian told him, lightly brushing his hand against Klaus's as they walked. "May I?"

The brush wasn't denied him, and despite the man's military pace and straight ahead gaze, he could see a softening of sharp green eyes. "Yes."

"Marvelous," Dorian sighed, smiling. "I know it can't be any fun doing it all alone. I wouldn't want to abandon you just to stay in some nasty waiting room, you know."

"Thank you." A sigh spilled from Klaus as they passed through the waiting room, and into a tiny hallway beyond. One hand passed idly back over his shorn hair, the same gesture he'd always made to move his hair out of his face -- now it was simply habit unwilling to die. He turned a sharp corner and paused, taking in the room for a moment.

Same chair as always, same nurse.

"Hello, there, Mr. Eberbach," she greeted before giving a start of surprise. "Why, you have someone with you today!! How nice!" It made her feel a bit light-hearted, in fact. She'd often felt quite bad for the man who came and went alone, and so it was wonderful to see him with company. "If you'll lay down on the gurney here, I'll fetch a chair for your friend."

"Thank you," Dorian said with all of his typical charm. "I appreciate it!" Dorian had always been fabulous about charming complete strangers, though -- one of the many perks of his personality.

Klaus followed the woman's instructions and then some; he laid down and began to roll his sleeve up, revealing quite clearly discolorations right along his veins where the chemicals went in. "Dorian, I'm... truly glad you came, and came back."

"I know, darling," Dorian said quietly, smiling at him, though it was difficult at the sight of those bruises. "I could never leave for very long, and I'm so glad to be back, as well."

"Here you go!" The nurse was back, now, chair in hand, but at least it wasn't those awful plastic things that most hospitals had. "Would you like some juice, Mr. Eberbach? Before we start?"

"No, but thank you," he declined, turning his head to look at her. "I've had enough juice at breakfast."

"My goodness," she said, smiling. "You must be feeling pretty good today!"

The intimation that he didn't usually have anything before coming didn't pass by Dorian. "There were eggs and toast, too," he said with a wink.

"You'll regret that," Klaus warned him seriously, "if I throw it up later."

"If you throw it up, darling, at least someone else will be driving you home," he was informed, and the nurse seemed quite pleased.

"Today might not be as bad as usual," she encouraged, smiling at them both as she began setting up the IV. "Maybe it'll be easier."

"Is it the same dose as usual?" Klaus asked, looking over to the IV preparations.

"A little less, today," the nurse said with another smile. "So maybe you'll get lucky and not be as ill!"

Dorian nodded. "With any luck at all," he agreed.

"Why a little less?" Klaus asked, tone curious and not quite as sharp as usual. Was it because he was getting better, or because they thought his body couldn't take much more of the chemicals?

"The last couple of times have been pretty rough on you," the nurse told him, "so we're going to lower the dosage this time and next time and see how that works out."

The second one, then. "I thought it was supposed to be rough."

"It is," he was informed agreeably, "but sometimes, we try and let it up a bit so you can have some breathing space. Then, we'll go back to the regular regimen, all right?"

"All right." He didn't seem to be all right with the idea, though -- but whether that was due to his pathological mistrust of doctors or just plain Klaus-ness, Dorian couldn't tell.

"So there's no need to worry," Dorian almost-asked, looking at the woman.

"No need to worry," she told him with a little smile. The truth of the matter was simply that they *couldn't* give him much more or they'd kill him. That was the art of chemotherapy -- killing the disease before it or the medicine could kill the patient. Sometimes, it worked.

Sometimes, it failed.

Klaus's body, still reasonably weakened by the problems with his chest, couldn't take much more of the chemicals. They needed to cycle out of his body for a week or so, before everything could start over again.

The German man, though, just sighed as the nurse rubbed betadine over a spot above one of his abused veins. This was the fun part, he supposed...

A quick, hard prick and the needle was in; Klaus's veins had always been a medic's dream. They never ducked, rolled, weaved or exploded, they were easy to find and they always took abuse well. "There we go," the woman said with a smile. "Just like that!"

It was always uncomfortable, a strange cool tingle at the point of entry, a little burning... and a lot of waiting. Klaus was not a patient man when in hospital, never had been. Gaze drifted to Dorian for a moment, and then the ceiling, the fingers of his free hand, drumming a little atop the paper of the gurney.

"Boring, isn't it?" Dorian said as the nurse walked away, reaching to lightly touch Klaus's fingers. "You'd think they'd have something out for you to read, wouldn't you?"

"At least a newspaper," Klaus sighed, his nervous hand stilling with Dorian's touch. He let his eyes close, too, for a moment, trying to not feel the IV's slow leak into him, chilling his arm slowly. "Radiation isn't much better."

"I can imagine," the Briton murmured, folding his fingers lightly around Klaus's. "I'll be with you, darling, whenever they'll let me be." /I love you,/ he thought, watching his lover quietly. It was heartbreaking to see him this way; the possibility that he might lose Klaus seemed somehow terribly real, the most horrible thing in the world... "Every step of the way."

"Every step..." Klaus echoed with a strange twist of his lips, squeezing Dorian's hand. "Sometimes, 's too dangerous to follow me every place, even though you want to."

"It's never stopped me before," Dorian told him lightly. "You know I'm an idiot where personal danger of any sort is concerned, especially if I'm following you."

"I've always worried that you'll follow me someplace you shouldn't. I don't want to have to worry about that this time, Dorian." Klaus tone wasn't even trying for light -- it was stern, trying to convince.

That glorious golden head only shook back and forth, his words earning him a tight smile. "You're going to get well," he almost whispered. "You're going to get well, darling, and it will be all right..."

"Yesterday was a good day, Dorian -- even with the blood I spent all morning coughing up. On a good day..." He couldn't even begin to tell the man how a bad day went.

"I won't let you go," Dorian murmured. "We'll hold on, all right? We'll hold on..." Though things seemed to be much grimmer than he'd ever dreamed they'd become. If Klaus died...

If Klaus died...

"I'm not going to just give up, Dorian," Klaus told him, sounding for a moment, like the Major, like Iron Klaus. Like the man who'd thwarted Soviet plans worldwide, who could fire a Magnum one-handed, sleep like a log while captive on a Soviet submarine... sounded like him, as long as Dorian didn't look at him.

"Never, darling," Dorian agreed as the nurse came back to check on them.

"Everything's going just fine," she announced solemnly. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Klaus told her stoically, refusing to do anything more than swallow whatever it was that had been rising in his throat. He hadn't let go of Dorian's hand.

"You don't need a pan?" she questioned gently.

"No, I'm fine right now." A little sterner now, and Dorian could feel Klaus's fingers shake minutely, either in frustration at something, or anger.

"All right," the woman said, nodding. "I'll be back again in a few moments." That having been said, she moved to the next bed to speak with the patient there.

"Poor darling," Dorian murmured. "I know you hate it. It seems to be going quickly, though," he said, eyeing the bag. "Soon, we'll be on our way home again."

Klaus was looking a little paler now, a little more restless as he shifted again, holding Dorian's hand tighter. "I bet you wish you were out robbing places instead of here..."

"No," Dorian told him, clasping Klaus's palm. "Actually, there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be. What on earth could I steal that would be equal to you?"

"I dunno." Klaus shrugged minutely, tiredly. "I'd rather be out stealing with you than here."

At that, Dorian's eyes flooded with warmth, a sudden tingling in his sinuses held at bay. "Darling, truer words have never been spoke," he chuckled. "I'd love for you and I to be out doing just that." Anything would be better than being here, amongst the ill, better than Klaus being one of them....

"You know... Chief always called my smokes cancer sticks. Never thought, though..." He coughed once, a dragging painful noise, before swallowing and holding his breath for a moment to suppress it.

"Darling, I can get you one of their plastic pails if you like," Dorian said gently. "To spit up in, if you need to. Or a cloth or something..."

Another stifled cough, and Klaus's pride finally gave in. "Yes, thanks..."

Extricating his fingers gently, the thief rose, hurrying to the nurse's station and quietly requesting the items he needed. The pail was pink, rectangular and plastic, and the cloth was white and cool with water. By the time he got back to Klaus's gurney, the other man needed it.

Another choking noise, and Klaus finally let the blood rise out of his chest properly, thick clotted globs of it that might as well have been parts of his lung itself. He had to twist a little, sitting up some on the gurney to make it cleanly into the pail, but that only brought him closer to Dorian.

"There, there," Dorian whispered, aching and turning pale himself as he gently rubbed Klaus's back. "There, there, darling, shhh, it's all right..." Oh, but it *wasn't*! It wasn't good at all!

When the coughing stopped, Klaus took the cloth from Dorian's hands and wiped his own mouth, looking thoroughly drained. The cloth was returned to Dorian with a press of shaking fingers, blood tinted.

"I'll rinse this out, darling, and be right back," Dorian said, but the nurse was coming back, and she reached her hands out for the thing.

"I'll take care of this," she murmured, looking at Klaus sadly. It sent chills of fear down Dorian's spine, but he nodded, thankful.

Once she was gone, he whispered to Klaus again. "There, there. Lay back and rest some, if you can..."

"I want this fucking IV to be done with and to go home," he growled shakily, even as he did lay back, free hand finding Dorian's again.

"Just a bit longer, darling," Dorian told him, "and then we can go. We'll go home and to bed..."

"I'd like that." Klaus' words were sighed, eyes closed tightly again. So strange, to see his snaps of anger drain off so quickly.

"Just a little longer..."

It WAS just a little longer, only about ten minutes more, when the nurse came back and gently disengaged the IV. "There we go," she said. "Lay here as long as you need. We're all done, and you can go when you feel up to it."

A mumble not of thanks but tired assent, and Klaus stayed very still for long moments before he started to sit up carefully. "Let's go home."

"Here, darling," Dorian told him, standing to help him. "If you like, I'll help you to the front lobby and then go fetch the car..." Klaus seemed so pale and so ill! /My poor darling.../

"No, I can walk fine," Klaus told him once he was standing mostly straight, even if he was using Dorian's arm for support.

"All right." As much as Dorian didn't want to agree to it, he did, helping Klaus along slowly as they left. They had to pause in the lobby after all, Klaus turning pale as they went, but then they continued on until Dorian had him settled in the Benz, seatbelt on, seat leaning back slightly. "There, darling," he whispered. "I'll get you home soon."

"'ll just nap," Klaus murmured quietly, eyes already closing. "'m glad 'm not driving..."

"All right," Dorian said quietly, shutting the door to hurry around to the other side. "I'm going to turn the air on, all right? It'll make you feel a bit better."

"All right..." The handsome face looked drawn for a moment, and then Klaus seemed to relax again. "'m not letting you out of my sight..."

The car started, Dorian buckling himself in before driving to the gate to pay for their parking. A glance to the side revealed that Klaus was asleep already, and for that, he was grateful. It had been hard to see his Major that way; hard to see him ill. /My poor darling,/ he thought, shaking slightly as he headed the car back for Schloss Eberbach. /My poor darling.../

~~~~~

Radiotherapy the next day had been better, and it had been worse. Better because it was painless, and the side-effects it had took time to set in; worse because Klaus was alone again, in a hospital gown in that huge machine, while Dorian was on the other side with the technician, only able to watch, and then told to go wait in the waiting room.

The German man was feeling better than he had after chemo the day before, though, even after half an hour under that machine. Klaus didn't sleep on the ride home, and seemed pretty steady when they entered the house.

Going to bed right away again was not an option for Klaus; he was sick and tired, yes, but tired and sick of living in that room. He insisted that they at least go into the library -- and there found the butler setting out food and straightening very obviously a stack of videos atop the television set, which hadn't been moved since Dorian had bought it.

"I think he's trying to mime things now," Klaus sighed when the man was gone, sinking down into the sofa.

Dorian gave a chuckle, settling down beside him. "Tell you what... why not take his suggestion? We can sit and watch movies a while and you can lean on me," he said with a smile. "He even left the vanilla cookies that you like."

"I don't like cookies," Klaus grumbled, shifting nearer to Dorian. "Fine; we'll do that. 's not like we can do anything else right now..."

"Mmmm," Dorian murmured in agreement. "We'll watch the cybernetic thing again, since we didn't finish it, and I had no idea what was going on by the time we stopped. Does that sound all right?"

"Yes." He stayed still as Dorian got up, rifled through the tapes, and set up the VCR again. Klaus could remember clearly the way they'd set it up, the good mood he'd been in. Still healthy, despite the cancer having been found...

Once that was done and the tape was in, Dorian returned to the couch. The remote control was in his hand, wire pushed to the side of the television, and the plate of cookies and sandwiches was in the other. "There we go, darling," he said with a smile as he sat down beside Klaus, folding a leg up under him. "All settled in."

Not quite -- they were settled in when Klaus was close as he wanted to be, an arm around Dorian's shoulder. "Now we are." A light kiss brushed Dorian's cheek before Klaus rested his head back against the edge of the sofa. "You can start the movie."

A click of a button began the tape, and for a while they sat in companionable silence. Dorian ate one of the sandwiches as they watched, and Klaus ate a cookie, which pleased the British thief immensely. He decided that it was going to be a good day, and leaned his head against Klaus's shoulder even as the sound of a knock came upon the front door. "Expecting company, darling?" Dorian asked, knowing that Klaus was not.

"'s probably just some salesman," Klaus murmured, reaching for another cookie. He would *try* to eat it, at least. Maybe it was the constant gunfire in the movie that brought his appetite back a little. What was that the Doctor had told him, about eating in comfortable settings? "The butler will get it."

The sound of a voice in the foyer sounded firmly, crisp accent overwhelmingly German though the words weren't clear. "I don't know, darling. Sounds military-ish if you ask me..."

It took a moment for Klaus to roll that through his mind -- and by the time he did, startling to sitting upright from his slouch against Dorian, the parlor door opened.

"Darling, you dropped your cookie," Dorian murmured, alarmed as well and leaning over to pick it up.

"Klaus." The stern German intonations caught Dorian's attention from the compromising position of him leaning over Klaus's lap to get the cookie.

"Tell me that isn't who I think it is," Dorian whispered almost to himself, suddenly self-conscious.

"Good afternoon, Father," Klaus greeted, answering Dorian's question as he stood shakily in the man's presence, despite Dorian's closeness.

A hand alighted on the side of his face for a moment, lifting his chin a little higher as the man, an aged image of Klaus when he was well, surveyed him. "You've cut your hair. You look unwell."

"Yes. I tried to call you but you were unavailable," Klaus told him slowly. "I have lung cancer."

His father's gaze turned rather sharply upon Dorian, taking him in with a look that quickly discarded him. "I see. And you have known this for how long?"

"Ah..." He looked over his shoulder to Dorian for a moment, as if looking at the thief would remind him. "Four months or so."

"And four months was not enough time in which to tell me this?" The question was sharp, pointedly so.

"The doctors thought they had gotten it all," Dorian said, standing, his voice equally as barbed. "He went on a mission and didn't know that they hadn't until six weeks ago."

Klaus looked respectfully at his father, careful to keep his expression neutral enough, "And at that point, I began to try to contact you. But you are here now, and you know."

"Yes," the elder Eberbach said sternly. "And now there is this person here, and this person is not a woman."

/Not last I checked, anyway,/ Dorian thought, trying to keep from snapping it at the old man. Klaus was calm, though Dorian could tell that standing was tiring him. "No. Father, Lord Dorian Red Gloria, a contract employee of NATO. Lord Gloria, Commander Eberbach."

"Commander," Dorian greeted, though it was difficult. The man obviously didn't like him and obviously wasn't a fit father! He'd not even touched Klaus beyond that sharp-eyed survey or given any commiseration on his illness! It was all so awkward feeling compared to what he was accustomed.

All Dorian got was a sharp, cold nod, and then Klaus cut in before the old man could say more. "'ve had radiation treatment today. We will talk more when I've rested."

For a moment, it seemed that his father would say something else, his expression darkening visibly, but he seemed to change his mind. "I'll be in the usual room. I assume dinner remains at eight?"

"We eat when Klaus feels that he can," Dorian answered coolly.

"It's still served then, yes, Father," Klaus said, a compromise between both -- because yes, it *was* still served then, but he seldom ate it. Snacking was easier and simply more plausible for him. As soon as he'd told the man that, he took a step backwards to the sofa again, to sit down once more -- before he crumpled.

Automatically, Dorian's hands moved to help him, shifting Klaus down easily as he sat so that he would not fall. "Would you like another cookie?" he asked quietly, stopping the videotape to rewind it slightly as Commander Eberbach watched them in what appeared to be shock.

"No thanks. 'm not hungry right now," Klaus mumbled, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes. Just his father's presence in a room was enough to give him a headache, and the urge to smoke was overwhelming.

"You're standing in front of the television," Dorian noted, looking up at Klaus's father. "Perhaps you'd like to go rest. I'm sure you've had a long drive."

The man's eyes narrowed for a moment, in that 'something suspicious is going on' way that Klaus often used, before he turned to leave. "I will see you at dinner, Klaus Heinz."

"Would you like to lay down, darling?" Dorian asked him softly once his father was gone, fingers reaching up to lightly brush at his face. "You're paler than you were a moment ago..."

"I wonder why...?" he muttered rhetorically, shifting nearer to Dorian. "No, I'm fine here."

A hand came up, lightly pressing Klaus's head down to his shoulder. "We'll watch a bit more carnage," Dorian whispered to him, starting the tape again. "Maybe that would make you feel a bit better..."

"Maybe," Klaus chuckled a little rawly, choking back a cough for a moment before he suppressed it. "No matter what, you're not leaving."

"Darling, they'll have to pry my fingers off of you a hundred years from now," Dorian laughed softly, moving to kiss his forehead. "I'm going nowhere without you. Really."

"'s good," Klaus murmured tiredly, letting his head loll a little against Dorian's shoulder. He wasn't tired enough to sleep, though he did want to rest. The position ruined any chance of having a clear view of the screen, but he could hear the familiar noise of gunfire. "After this, we'll go to sleep. 'r I will..."

That gained him another of those kisses. "All right, sweetheart. Until then, why not rest your eyes?"

He got a slurred noise of assent and Klaus shifted minutely before finally giving in to the idea of 'resting his eyes'.... and eventually slipping into a deep doze, soothed by the familiar noise of gunfire.

~~~~~

Commander Eberbach had arrived at the dinner table to find no one. Dinner was waiting, plates were set for three, but he was the only one to arrive.

Such an occurrence was unacceptable.

Anger firmly in hand, he strode from the dining room with a sharp word to the butler indicating that dinner should be kept heated for him to search for his son and his... companion. The blond was CLEARLY unsuitable, and he had his suspicions about the man -- suspicions more than a little tinged with equal hunches concerning his son. The entire matter was disreputable, no matter whether Klaus was ill or otherwise.

Klaus had always been the sort of son who, despite his best attempts to appear upright, failed at it. His duties with NATO were often his most redeeming qualities, and those made him a vicious man at most times, a butcher often, even if he did it in the name of what was right.

At least they still weren't lounging in the library. Still, when he finally found them, he honestly believed that lounging in the library would have been preferable.

"KLAUS HEINZ VON DEM EBERBACH!!!!"

Dorian, only half-awake after spending nearly two hours watching Klaus sleep, nearly startled clean off the bed in the parlour, and he was sure that the old man's yell had probably scared Klaus half to death. "Good God, man!"

Klaus, in fact, looked as if he were a cat that had been awakened from a deep sleep by a dog chewing on its leg -- he did startle, shooting to his feet immediately, snapped to full attention. Only after he'd reacted, heart pounding, lungs gasping in air, did he consciously thank his common sense for making him put on pajamas before getting into bed.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN THIS HOUSE!" His father's voice was still at full bellow, despite the fact that Klaus was more than a little green around the gills.

In a rush, Dorian shifted himself out of the bed, grabbing a pan that was just beside it and holding it out just in time.

When he was finished being humiliatingly sick while his father was still standing there, still demanding an answer with his mere presence, Klaus shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, head throbbing. "I'm trying to recover, Father," he uttered in a sharply unhappy drawl, trying for his old arrogance of tone. "I know what you're thinking, sir. Don't bother."

"You unmitigatedly WRETCHED child!" The old man's voice shook with sheer anger; his very body seemed to be shaking with it, he was so furious. "And YOU, you... Faggot!" he spat out. "Get out of this house!"

"The hell you say," Dorian answered promptly, reaching for the damp cloth kept close by in a bowl for Klaus.

Klaus knotted his hands in the bedding while Dorian first wiped his forehead, then the edges of his lips. He wanted to snap at Dorian to not smoother him, not *now*, but it gave him a little more time to formulate a reaction to his father. "Lord Gloria isn't leaving, father. Your involvement in my life has been minimal; let me die in peace."

The word *die* sounded loud in the room, all motion stopping on Dorian's part as he paled and moved back slightly, waiting for whatever reaction would come next.

"You will not die," Commander Eberbach finally said slowly. "You... are my son. You are strong. You will not die, even if you have become some sort of pervert..."

"The hospital won't tell me that directly but I know -- you father, should trust a soldier's instincts on what death is," Klaus said in a more polished tone than before. He wouldn't start an argument over Dorian -- better to have his father gloss over that than dwell on it.

There was a glint in Klaus's eyes that his father had seen before in the field -- a man struck with shrapnel or otherwise hurt fatally, dying a slow and humiliating death when they didn't want to die. There was a point of damage crossed where even a strong will couldn't save them, though...

"You're not dying," Dorian whispered. "I won't *let* you *die*..."

"It's not as if either of us has a choice in the matter, Dorian," Klaus reminded his lover.

For a moment, his father stood there, stiff and silent, and finally he said quietly, "Supper is being kept hot, Klaus."

"Thank you," Klaus sighed. "'ll be in to eat in a bit."

Wordlessly, the old man turned and walked out... and if his shoulders slumped just a bit, then neither of the other men really noticed.

"Darling," Dorian said softly, shakily. "Oh, darling..."

"I love you, Dorian," Klaus murmured softly, settling back to lay down again for a few moments.

"With all my heart," the British thief whispered, looking at him helplessly. "I love you with all of my heart. I'll always love you that way, darling..."

Klaus sighed, and gave him a small smile, tight and forced, as he opened his arms to have the other man slip into them. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"Define stupid," Dorian managed to say softly, face pressed to Klaus's throat tightly. "'Cause I don't know if I can do without you, darling. Really, I don't think I can..."

"Stupid would be killing yourself in any of the number of romantic ways you're prone to, Dorian, or at all," Klaus murmured. "'s real life, not Shakespeare."

That gained him a slightly shaky laugh accompanied by wetness felt against his throat. "Darling, I don't know if I can promise you that...."

"Promise me," Klaus demanded sternly, while he wove a hand softly, stroking beautiful blond hair. "'ve got a lot of people who love you. A lot of friends. 's stupid to throw it away."

"I promise," Dorian whispered wetly, beginning to shake. "Oh, God, Klaus, I don't want to promise!"

"Just don't do that, Dorian. I don't want to die knowing you're going to stop living. 'd be very sad knowing that..."

"I'd do anything to make you happy," was the hiccoughed answer. "Anything. I would. I will. I p-promise. I promise..."

"Shhh..." That hand carded through his thick hair slowly, meticulously, and Klaus pressed a kiss against it. "Let's enjoy what we've got."

"I love you, darling," Dorian whispered, hand knotted slightly in Klaus's pajama top. "It seems as if I've loved you forever. No one else has ever managed to make me... make such a fool of myself just for a chance alone..."

"'s all right. 've acted foolish because of you." Idiotic, even, though he was loathe to admit it. "You're someone... special, Dorian. World needs people like you."

That gained him a laugh that sounded so desperate and sad that it didn't seem possible it was laughter at all. "Darling, if it wasn't for people like you, there'd be no world for people like *me* to enjoy."

"People like me would kill off all of humanity if there weren't people like you." It was circular, and senseless, Klaus knew, but it was something to say.

Another of those laughs came then and Dorian seemed to brighten, at least a bit. "Darling, if you asked me, I'd tell you the world revolved around you. Sounds like you'd say the same," he teased sadly, hugging Klaus tightly. "I don't want you to die," came the whisper a moment later. "I can't bear it if you die..."

"Stop talking that way," Klaus murmured, almost an order. "Would you be doing this if I'd been killed on a mission?"

"If you'd been killed on a mission, darling, I'd have probably already slit my wrists or I'd have been right beside you. You wouldn't have made me promise not to do anything 'stupid', then," Dorian sighed. "I don't know. I don't know. If... darling, if it happens...."

"You will not die on me," Klaus murmured, the hand in Dorian's hair clutching for a moment. "You will not."

"I promise," Dorian whispered, shuddering. "I promise..."

"Thank you." Klaus kissed his lover's temple, nuzzling there for a moment. "Want to try dinner?"

"Might as well, darling. Do you think you can eat anything?" Dorian asked him quietly. "Do you think your father can resist yelling? I think he scared ten years off my life a bit ago..."

"We'll see." In answer to both if he could eat anything, or if his father would not yell. He sat up a little, still holding Dorian tightly.

"Here, darling," Dorian murmured, shifting. /I won't think about him dying. He won't. For now... for now, it can wait until tomorrow, or until the doctor says it's definite.../ "Let me help you?"

"Thanks," Klaus murmured, using Dorian's support once they were both standing. He moved a little away, but only to pull a sweater on over the pajama shirt he already wore. It looked awkward, but it was warm and Dorian wasn't one to care.

"I'm sure the cooks have probably made something marvelous for dinner, darling. Maybe even some of that nice chicken pie they do. It's light, and you like that," Dorian prattled, trying to smile at him as he wiped beneath his eyes where they remained slightly damp. "I like it, for that matter."

Klaus turned a little nearer to Dorian, head tilted down to brush dry lips against Dorian's. Tender, as he tried to convey to Dorian things he simply didn't have the capacity to say -- just how grateful he was for the blond man, his support and love... But he couldn't think of a way to say it properly. "'s good."

"Come on," Dorian said, understanding. "Let's go face that old curmudgeon of a father of yours."

They walked down the hall together, Klaus's footfalls on the tile a poor shadow of the days that the halls would echo with tromping march-steps. Leaning on Dorian carefully, subtly, Klaus was wasting extra effort to not seem to Dorian that he needed more support. He didn't move away from Dorian as they entered the dining room, though the table set for three. Klaus let Dorian help him to his chair, and only then let go of the other man. "Hello, Father."

"Klaus Heinz," the older man greeted gruffly, scowling in Dorian's direction. "We seem to be having some kind of chicken *pie* for supper!"

"We like the chicken pie," Dorian said, shrugging and settling into his chair. "It doesn't make Klaus ill, usually."

"'f I'd known you were coming, I would have told the staff to make something different," Klaus said politely to his father, reaching to take a sip of juice from the glass at his setting.

For a moment, the elder Eberbach's mouth compressed and then he coughed slightly, shaking his head. "It's fine," he said shortly.

/And it'd bloody well better be,/ Dorian thought, sighing slightly.

"All right." Klaus picked his fork up, eyed the food a little warily, and then started to eat slowly. "'t reminds me, Z dropped some papers off, I think. They're on my desk. Your statement, I think -- need to sign off on it."

"I'll sign them," Dorian nodded. "I'll call Bonham to come and take them back. He's in Bonn for a bit at the flat and needs to drop by with some documents from Jamesie..."

"Your men haven't seen you in a while," Klaus murmured, nodding. "Have him drop by, then."

That gained him another nod from Dorian. "Of course, darling. After all, Jamesie's still in London, so we're all safe. I'm not sure if he'd *bawl* because you're ill or try to assist in shuffling off your mortal coil, so to speak...."

"Whichever would be cheaper." A half chuckled comment as he chewed a few more bites -- not doing too badly, despite his father's silent presence in the room.

The man's silence ended a moment later. "Klaus, tell me what you have been doing to the house in my absence."

"Doing to the house, sir?" He looked up, completely calm, over at his father.

"Yes. Changes and the like," his father replied a bit stiffly. The bantering conversation between his son and that... FAIRY really wasn't anything to which he could continue to listen!

"The staff moved a bed down into the parlor after I fell on the stairs and tore my chest some. Essentially, my bedroom has been moved to the parlour. Aside from that, no major changes."

"I see." That attempt at conversation killed, his father sat back and steadily began to eat the chicken pie as Dorian smiled at Klaus and ate his own, watching to see what Klaus could manage.

Klaus ate roughly half of it, which was an accomplishment for him in one sitting, and then turned back to his father. "Father, I've been wondering about a painting in the family collection..."

"Which one's that?" his father asked, settling back in his chair.

"The Pumpkin... ah, The Man in Purple." A moment to see his father's reaction -- God, the old man knew Klaus hated it to death, had tried to sell it behind his back once...

"You will NOT sell it!" his father told him sternly. "I know you tried to before, and I know you don't like it, but it's a part of our *national* *heritage*!"

/What I want to know,/ Dorian thought, watching them with interest, /is about the companion piece to it that's gathering dust upstairs.../

"I'm not going to sell it! There's another painting that Dorian and I found in on of the attic rooms -- of Luminous Benidict."

At that name, his father went strangely still, looking down the table at him and then *looking* at Dorian, truly *looking* at him. "I'll be damned," he whispered, and that strange expression was something Klaus wasn't sure he'd ever seen before -- shock and a strange sense of what was almost understanding.

It was an eerie understanding of something that Klaus didn't even try to comprehend. Two lovers and enemies destined to meet again and again? "Benidict later became the Earl of Gloria... and the title has passed down through the Gloria family," Klaus pressed a little quietly.

"I... see," his father said slowly. "Perhaps we can discuss this further in the library. I would like some cognac," Commander Eberbach noted. It was the sort of discussion which would prompt a need of something containing liquor.

Klaus nodded, and looked over to Dorian, even as he picked up his juice glass to take with him.

He was going to find a way to get The Man in Purple for Dorian. Somehow.

Dorian smiled at him, standing with him to slide his chair and Klaus's beneath the table. "Having read the diary," he murmured just loud enough for the other man to hear, "I can see why he'd need a drink..."

The elder Eberbach moved past them, then, leading the way into the hall and down to the library. Once there, Klaus's father poured himself a fairly generous drink, glancing at the two of them as he seated himself, scowling. "Luminous Benidict," he said finally, "killed Tyrian Persimmon. Killed him, went home, fathered children, and eventually came back to Schloss Eberbach."

"Came back...?" Klaus questioned, leaning against one of the sturdy book-cases. "Why?"

"To die."

The words seemed to ring strangely in the library, gaining a little shift of uncertainty from Dorian before Klaus's father spoke again. "I told you, years ago, that we had found a body in the attic. It was almost certainly that of Luminous Benedict, in a locked room with a... a *bed*, and a portrait, among other things."

Dorian could see his lover processing that fact, slowly, steadily, in silence for a moment -- before he drained the glass of juice and set it on one of the book shelves. "Makes sense."

"Yes," Dorian agreed pointedly. "It does."

Klaus's father gave a little sound of disgust. "He was a queer, and Tyrian was certainly not a man of upstanding moral character, either." He shook his head. "Things just don't change."

Just one more back-handed comment Klaus didn't want to hear or put up with... His jaw clenched a little as he looked at his father. "When I die, I want Dorian to have The Man in Purple."

The appalled expression on his father's face said it all. "CERTAINLY not! That thing is a national treasure! Certainly you can't think I'd..."

"No..." Dorian whispered, hands coming up to cover his face. "You can't die! I'd rather have you than the portrait!"

"I'm aware," Klaus murmured quietly, folding his arms loosely over his chest. "I'm aware, Dorian. I know. But I'm being realistic -- and Father, better to give it than have it stolen."

THAT certainly seemed to startle his father. "Who would *DARE*?" he bellowed.

Klaus tensed a little more in the face of that bellow, but only replied, "Someone who would appreciate it for more than just a piece of history."

"Darling, it's all right, really, I..."

"I am going to bed, Klaus Heinz. I will leave in the morning. I will not stay here and watch you make a faggot of yourself, dying or not!" his father yelled.

Fury spread over the old man's face, and Klaus watched with a barely reigned in temper. He wanted to snap, wanted to say something... "Then this will probably be the last time I see you. Thank... thank you for raising me."

The sharp sound of the library door shutting was the only response he was given.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I'm so sorry," Dorian whispered, biting his lip.

"It's always been this way. I shouldn't have expected things to change any." Klaus, too, was turning around and away from Dorian pretty quickly, a way to hide the expression on his face until he could pull it together. /God *dammit*./ "Lets go to bed, Dorian."

"All right, darling. Tomorrow, if you're feeling all right, maybe we could go upstairs and... and dust a bit, in Benidict's room?' he asked a bit shakily, standing to help Klaus up and to pull him closer. "It will be all right, darling," Dorian whispered. "I love you..."

"I know." Klaus was biting the insides of his cheeks though, biting back the emotions that wanted to rise up. So, the old man really couldn't stand him. Even dying, he couldn't manage to dredge up pity, or... well, fine.

"Maybe tomorrow will look better, darling," came the quiet murmur, Dorian moving around him as Klaus refused to turn. He took Klaus in his arms, pulling that dark head down to his shoulder. "It will be all right, sweetheart. It will..."

Fingers at the back of his head, touching the slightly thinned short-shorn locks, were a comfort, as Klaus kept his head bowed, arms coming tight around Dorian. He wanted to cry, was so very close to it as he almost hid in his lover's embrace. "I'm such an idiot..."

"No, darling. You're not an idiot," Dorian whispered, kissing his ear gently and holding him close. "You just want your father to love you. I understand..."

A soft hitch of breath left Klaus, and Dorian could feel the man tensing to suppress tears. "He never has... I don't know why I expected... even understanding from the damned... bastard..."

One hand warmly rubbed at his back, Dorian wanting to cry *for* him. "Shh, darling. Maybe he just doesn't know how to show it. He's had two very terrible shocks in one day, sweetheart. Maybe he'll stay tomorrow. Maybe things will be different. Shhh, it's all right. You can, if you need to, you know." He didn't say the word -- cry.

"Can't." An aching admission -- or, perhaps, a denial -- as another breath hitched in his throat. He'd said such a thing to Dorian before, though, hadn't he? Yes. It was just the combination of events... A second hitch sounded, then a shuddery noise, and Klaus let it go.

"There, there," Dorian whispered, holding him close as he wept. "There, there. It will be all right. Tomorrow will be better. I'm so sorry, darling. I'm so sorry. Shhh, it's all right..."

It was both good and horrible for Klaus, to finally let go of those particular angers and sadnesses. Tears were humiliating, but Dorian could be trusted in times of humiliation -- the thief loved him, and that was all the assurance he needed. He stayed in the safety of the man's arms for what felt like forever, before he finally pulled back, drying his face.

"Let's go to bed, darling," Dorian told him tenderly. "Come to bed, and I'll hold you close..."

Letting out a shaky breath of air, Klaus let Dorian lead him back to the parlour they were living out of -- yes, he'd probably go to sleep right away, but it would be in the warm comfort of Dorian's understanding.

~~~~~

Morning dawned bright and quiet, sunlight splashing into the parlour where Dorian and Klaus lay tangled and close in bed together. Klaus had wakened for a short period, but he was dozing again, and that left Dorian with the quiet pleasure of watching his lover sleep. Even ill, Klaus was exquisite, full lips parted slightly, though chapped, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. /My beautiful darling,/ Dorian thought sadly. /How will I ever get by without you?/

There was no answer that came to mind for that, though -- and no answer that would. It would have to be a struggle of day by day, by day... Klaus didn't know what he was asking of Dorian, to expect the blond man to trudge onward. He couldn't know.... Klaus had been the focus of Dorian's life for the better part of the last ten years. Every moment not spent stealing had been spent with Klaus, on his missions, following him about, dreaming of him, wishing for him, and now that he had him...

Now that he had him, some unbelievably and impossibly cruel God that Dorian didn't even believe in was going to take him *away*....

Black lashes fluttered and Dorian pasted a smile onto his face, whispering, "Good morning again, darling."

"Morn'," Klaus mumbled, lashes falling again for a moment as he shifted closer to Dorian, dragging in a coughing breath. Drowsy was a comfortable place to be, barely able to remember the incident of the night before.

"You're beautiful when you sleep, darling," he was informed, kisses brushing over his forehead. "My exquisite lover. My love..." Arms folded around Klaus, held him close, fingers stroking up and down his back as a thigh slid between his own lightly.

A soft huff of breath made itself known against the side of his neck, and Klaus arched against Dorian's body. Strange, that he still wanted the other man's touch so much -- but perhaps it was a sort of desperation over lost time with the man. He'd barely been home for long at all... and even weeks, months, years, with Dorian wouldn't be enough for Klaus. "Mm. Want you." It was a day of rest between the schedule of radiation treatments and chemotherapy, and Klaus wanted desperately to make the best of energy that failed him when he least expected it to.

With a slow motion, Dorian came over him, mouth tender as he stole Klaus's lips, tongue invading the warm cavern of his mouth with a wash of breath and touch. "Yes," the blond man whispered. "Yes, darling. You can have me. You can have anything you want..." Hands traced down the length of Klaus's torso, one pausing at a hip as the other raised to lightly cup his face as Dorian kissed him.

A slow, sensuous melding of mouth against mouth, Klaus trying to tug off his pajamas while not loosing contact with Dorian's familiar form. "I want to be in you, and have... you do the same... I've missed the feel of your body..." All of it, every part he could conceivably touch, he'd missed!

"Yes, darling," Dorian whispered, dragging his mouth away to send tingling kisses down the line of Klaus's jaw to throbbing pulse, teasing at his throat. The feel of those sucking kisses caressed from pulse to hollow and back out the delicate winging of a collarbone, teasing and light as nimble fingers stroked lightly at hip and arm. "Mmmm," came the nearly-purred sound of enjoyment as Dorian nuzzled at a shoulder, down to the underside of Klaus's arm, and from there to the width of his chest.

There were places where the radiation was given that he knew to avoid, marked easily by discoloration. Soft, pleased noises left Klaus, giving himself up fully to having Dorian touch him like that, while his own hands tried to divest Dorian of his clothing.

Soft laughter rang out, tangled curls spilling everywhere as Klaus pushed at the satin pajama top. "Darling...." Dorian whispered, working his way down Klaus's belly, now, with nips that teased and promised pleasure, tongue stroking firmly against his lover's belly. He could feel the German's body tensing beneath him slightly and he smiled, mapping out that area of flat stomach slowly, deliciously, enjoying every touch. "I love you."

"It took me... ah, too long to realize... that," he gritted out, finally unbuttoning it completely, sliding his hands beneath it to stroke over the even smoother silk of Dorian's skin. As he did so, his slim blond lover managed to tug his pajama bottoms off of his hips and down, smiling slightly at what was revealed. "Ohh, Christ," Klaus swore softly, arching as the band cleared that needy flesh. "Dorian..."

"Ahhh, there we are, darling," Dorian whispered, a hand closing firmly about the blood-filled length and squeezing with consideration. "Mmmmmm, you look urgent, don't you?" he whispered with a smile, head laying on Klaus's belly.

"Need you," Klaus breathed softly, nearly lower than a whisper as he choked back a cough. "Don't stop."

The feel of warm lips enveloping the head of his cock, sucking him bottomlessly into the back of Dorian's throat, was enough to make him arch up off of the bed. His pajama pants tangled around his thighs, but Dorian was skillful at pulling them off, slowly and steadily, and before he knew it, he was nearly naked. His beautiful blond thief was swallowing him deeply, fingers sliding back to tease at the tiny hole between his nether cheeks with delicate touch, prying only gently. "Mmmmm!"

If he was going to be a fag in his father's eyes, he might as well *really* be one with Dorian and do something enjoyable at the same time, he thought more than a little bitterly, before letting that thought drown in the next wash of pleasure. "Yes..."

A saliva-slick finger invaded him, teasing at him as Dorian sucked leisurely at the heady length of him, enjoying the taste of him. When he finally pulled away, it was only to smile seductively up at his lover, lips reddened from use, finger lightly plying its wiles deep in Klaus, teasing at the spongy touch of prostate. "Well, darling?" he teased, leaning to kiss Klaus's belly. "Hmmm?"

Every brush there brought a tightening of the muscles on Klaus's stomach, a ripple of pleasure making him arch and move towards the press of sensation. "I want you. Once... wasn't enough..."

"No," Dorian agreed, the sound full of adoration and lust as he reached for the table by the bedside and the lubricant hidden within its drawer. "Once with you could never be enough, darling."

"I always wondered... why people wanted to do this..." And now he was learning -- *had* learned, but it was certainly proving too late to make up for a repressed life, wasn't it? The German laid there quietly, eyes tracking Dorian's every move. It was early morning and he was laying among half-removed clothing, tangled sheets, waiting for his lover to fuck him...

It was heaven.

"Mmm, sweetheart," Dorian whispered, leaning to kiss him, fingers now generously lubed as they snuck between his thighs again, a fingertip teasing lightly at the tight wrinkle of flesh hidden there. "People want to do this because it feels so *good*... *I* want to do this because I want for you to feel good, and I want to feel good with you..."

"And it does feel good," Klaus agreed breathily, spreading his legs a little more for the blond man. "With you... everything feels good."

That gained him another drugging kiss as Dorian plied tenderly at tight flesh, forearm brushing against Klaus's erection even as he plunged his fingers deep, filling his lover with slick preparation. "Mmmmmm," Dorian murmured, pulling back to slide between Klaus's legs. "Ready, darling?"

"Ready." Wanting, willing, waiting to be filled and taken by his lover... Shifting, Klaus hooked a leg, still well muscled but much leaner than it had ever been, around Dorian's waist, drawing him in. "Very ready."

Penetration came slow and easy, accompanied by the feel of Dorian's mouth on his chest, teasing at nipples. A hand furled around the stiffness jutting up from his groin and stroked as the thief seated himself fully, shuddering. "You feel... *so*...." Dorian sighed, leaning up to kiss Klaus. "Mmmmmmm..."

It was starting to set in that he'd never get accustomed to the sensation of being filled like that, of Dorian plowing carefully into his body and the heated sparks it sent through him. He was glad that a kiss stifled the soft groan that wrung itself loose of him. "My beautiful darling..." The words caressed his ear as Dorian pulled out of him slightly and pushed back in again, a motion made of hip and thigh and fingers splayed across Klaus's belly. Each motion seemed to stoke at those sparks, driving them flying through his very blood, and there was no way his lover couldn't know what it was doing to him.

"Yours." Ragged agreement as Klaus pushed them together more with a flex of his hips, straining for those sharp sparks of pleasure. How could Dorian not see the flush of pale skin, the tremor of muscle around and beneath him?

"Do you want more, darling?" Dorian breathed, fingers feathering over Klaus's cheek even as his other palm held him up slightly so that their bellies rubbed together against Klaus's cock but his weight wasn't on the other man. "Do you want it harder?" It was a sweet tease, but a tease nonetheless.

"More," Klaus agreed to both, shifting again to press himself deeper against Dorian. So, so damned good...

The next thrust was slightly rough as Dorian shifted, bringing his knees up beneath Klaus to support himself and tugging his lover's legs to wrap them around his hips. "All right, darling," he husked, pulling Klaus to him, hands on his flanks to pull him closer in time to the beat of his thrusts as they shifted, became faster, deeper, further....

Just how Klaus wanted him. Just how Klaus wanted Dorian for always -- in him, on him, just touching, joined and moving as one well oiled machine together, a roll of hips and bodies together. "Dorian, lover, mine, yes, yes..."

It became obvious very quickly that it wouldn't last much longer, the pace growing frantic, pleasure growing sharp. Dorian could feel liquid intensity building in the heavy weight of his balls as he thrust deep into Klaus, and he panted, shuddering, reaching a hand to stroke along Klaus's shaft. "I'm... going... to...!" he breathed, moaning.

Always, Dorian had felt a need to warn Klaus -- as if he might protest or some other idiocy. Like he could do more than form a grunted moan with his lips, clutching Dorian tighter still as the rub of prostate and its pulses of pleasure, with the hand on his cock, drove him cleanly over the peak, and Dorian after him.

Moments later, sweaty and limp, the nudge of mouth to mouth sang between them. "I've seen heaven," Dorian declared, limp atop him, just barely keeping his weight off of Klaus. He didn't want to move -- it felt too good just then, even hot and sticky. "My dearest darling..."

"Mmm." Drifting in the warm haze that came after a long-needed release in his lover's arms, Klaus could only smile a little, nodding. "Mmm, ja."

"In a moment," Dorian promised, "I'll go fetch breakfast. Would you like that, darling? Mmmm, fruit and crepes or something light, all right? It'll be good, and I'll feed it to you here..."

"'st long as I don't have to leave bed yet," Klaus murmured with a smile. Mornings were always best for him -- when he was strongest and felt the most energetic. Despite the painful thickness in his lungs -- with breakfast he'd have to take his medications and the inhaler would probably help. Even though sometimes it didn't help.

That earned him another kiss, slow and most thorough. "Mmmm, no, you don't have to get up at all if you don't like. We'll just stay here all day," Dorian purred. "I'll read to you. How would you like that?"

Stretching a little, the German man let that idea roll through his head. "Ja. Get the butler to bring newspapers, too." He hated to be behind in the news, even if he knew that knowing it wouldn't do him a whit of good.

"Mmmhmmmmm," Dorian said, kissing him one more time before moving to slide out of the bed and slip into a robe. "I'll be back shortly, darling. With coffee and everything!"

Nescaf‚ and everything sounded distinctly pleasing to Klaus, and he nodded, shifting again amidst sticky sheets. /Need to wash./ Even ill, he was still fastidious. "I'll take a quick shower. 'n we can change the sheets."

"That sounds like a BEAUTIFUL idea," Dorian told him, kissing him again as he sat up. "Your mouth is irresistible this morning, darling."

"Doesn't feel irresistible." It felt dry and a little raw -- but kissing Dorian had helped that actually, and he gladly gave in to another shared kiss. "Go on -- go."

With that last kiss, Dorian was gone, flitting out to the kitchens after throwing on his sapphire silk robe. He knew he smelled of sex and he really didn't care, but neither did the kitchen staff, it seemed. Indeed, most of Eberbach's servant population was entirely glad for the Earl of Gloria's presence, for a variety of reasons. The most prominent ground for that satisfaction was that the Earl of Gloria made Major Eberbach happy. Some were joyful that the Master of Eberbach had finally learned how to *be* happy, even though it was so late in his life and he was so ill. Others were simply grateful because it made their lives easier.

"Could we have crepes and strawberries for breakfast? Oh, and whipped cream, too?" Dorian requested, smiling brilliantly at the head cook, who promptly smiled back at him and went to work. In short order, he had a tray filled with breakfast and coffee to boot, and was on his way back down the hall, bare feet and all.

At the same time, Klaus was emerging from the bathroom across from the parlour, patting dry his short hair. Part of him hated to do that, to take such care, but he'd realized that buffing only made the slow falling out worse. Not that it showed much of a difference with his hair so short. /Thankfully./ He'd changed into a different pair of pajamas, and managed a weary smile for Dorian as he saw the large tray of food that Dorian had.

"Breakfast is served," Dorian drawled in that delicious British accent that sent tingles down Klaus's spine.

Klaus let Dorian enter the parlour first, him following and closing the door behind him. "House is quiet -- I think my father's left already."

"Maybe he's just not up yet," Dorian suggested, putting down the tray and turning to fold his arms lightly around Klaus.

Klaus took that suggestion with a disbelief-filled noise and a shake of his head, even as he leaned into Dorian. "Nein. That would be very unlikely."

"Darling..." A knock on the door interrupted those words and so Dorian called instead, "Come in," not letting go of Klaus in the least.

It didn't matter, in the end, because it was the butler, an envelope in hand. "Sir, your father left this for you this morning..."

Pulling back a little, to take the small envelope in his hand, he nodded thanks to the man. When the butler had left, pulled away completely to sit on the edge of the bed, not even pausing. It was opened immediately.

"What does it say, darling?" Dorian asked him softly, watching Klaus's expression carefully.

It was an expression that seemed to be unsure of where it was heading next -- sadness, elation? "He says you can have both pictures. And that bed."

That seemed to startle Dorian, bringing him to sit beside Klaus. "Does he say anything else, darling?"

The hand that passed him the little note, written in sharp script on card-stock, was unsteady. "Something he's never said before." Bittersweet, to finally see that emotion expressed, even if it was only on a sheet of paper.

The words, their spiky little inscription scrawled delicately there, made Dorian smile. "See, darling?" he whispered, wrapping an arm around Klaus. "I knew this morning would look better..." He hugged Klaus closely.

"In a way." Klaus let his eyes close, let the warmth of Dorian's half-embrace enfold him. Yes, it was better. Dorian would have the pictures when... and he wouldn't... not without knowing that his father didn't hate him. It still couldn't change years of a stiff, unhappy existence coming to such a quick end, but it definitely helped.

Lips brushed his temple tenderly. "Come on. We'll eat breakfast and then I'll kiss you from head to toe in celebration. How's that sound?"

"Sounds... like a plan for today." Klaus managed to smile just a little. And it did sound like a good plan.

"Good," Dorian said. "Now, open your mouth.... I'm going to feed you *strawberries*!"

~~~~~

The waiting room was filled with people and Dorian was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He had a feeling he knew what they were going to say -- both of them did -- but he didn't want to hear it. Already, four weeks of waiting had passed, four weeks of half-treatments and pitying looks from the nurses. "How much longer do you suppose it will take?" he asked Klaus softly.

"Before they get to me? Five more minutes perhaps." Klaus looked downright *ill* that morning. And tired. He could barely keep his straight-backed posture, the thick sweater he wore not quite thick enough for his comfort.

"I hope it's soon. I don't want you out when you feel this bad..." Dorian said softly. "THEY should come to YOU when you feel so bad..."

"I hate being in the Schloss so much," Klaus murmured, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "I'm tired of being sedentary."

Dorian understood *that*. "Tell you what. Tomorrow, we'll take a picnic somewhere, all right? If you feel like it. We'll go out," he tempted, trying to smile for his lover.

"I'd enjoy going out somewhere." It was only getting colder, though, so if they picnicked, it would have to be someplace shielded from the wind. "Anywhere. Those same walls, every day, are driving me up a... well, a wall."

"Mr. Eberbach...?" It wasn't the nurse they dealt with often now, but another -- just to lead them down to the room.

"Well," Dorian muttered as she told them to have a seat and left them behind. /This doesn't bode well, no, it does *not*.../ "I wonder..."

"You wonder what, Dorian?" Klaus asked quietly, not liking it one bit at all, expression clearly saying that.

"Oh, just what they're going to say," was the answer, as lightly spoken as the Briton could manage.

"I don't see an IV drip." That summed up fairly clearly what was going to be said -- at least, to Klaus it did. A terrible feeling of being scared began to sink in, after so long of dealing with it calmly. /I really am going to die a coward's death./

Fingers reached out and lightly closed around Klaus's. "I'll be right here for you, darling," he whispered. "*Right* here."

"Mm." A miserable-sounding quiet musing, and Klaus remained quiet until the door opened again.

"Good morning, Major Eberbach," the doctor greeted solemnly. "I see you have someone with you. That's good. How are you this morning, Mr....?"

"Dorian Red Gloria. Earl of Gloria," Dorian answered promptly. "I'm doing well, I suppose." /Considering that Klaus is dying..../

"What's this about?" Klaus asked flatly, trying to not glare at the doctor.

Seating himself, the older man steepled his hands lightly, only glancing down at the chart laid out on his desk. "Major Eberbach, you've been having chemotherapy and radiation treatments for some time now. We had hoped that it would lessen the amount of cancer in your body since we had already cut a good deal of it out." He paused, looking at both of them. "Unfortunately, at the rate we're going, the chemotherapy will kill you long before it kills the cancer cells. I'm very sorry, Major. The treatment isn't working."

"Oh..." Dorian whispered, looking at Klaus.

He'd been expecting it.

Somehow, that didn't make it any easier. Truly, he would never return to duty again, serve his country and NATO, command anything, or spend much longer with Dorian. "Ah." Bottle-green eyes slid shut for a moment and Klaus was silent as he jerked together falling pieces of himself, his mask of solid calm. "What now, then?"

Taking a deep breath, the doctor said softly, "Now we talk about pain management and Hospice care..."

"No. There will be no nurses caring for me, no strangers..." Doing *anything*. "If it is going to get that bad, I will shoot myself."

"NO!" Dorian cried, unaware that he'd even done so as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth in horror. "*I'LL* take care of you!"

"Dorian..." Klaus's tone was quiet as he murmured that, glancing over to the man. There was a point where it was quality of life over quantity...

"Please!" came the whisper, Dorian's skin white, his eyes gleaming from them. "*Please*."

There would be no discouraging that, not when Dorian looked so set in something. "Tell... tell me about pain management," Klaus said to the doctor, a little shakily, but he said it.

With a nod, the doctor began speaking. "First of all..."

~~~~~

"I'm sorry I reacted so badly," Dorian apologized later as they were on their way home. "I couldn't bear it if you killed yourself. I couldn't. I'm so sorry, darling!"

For most of the ride home, Klaus had been intensely silent, sunk deep into his own thoughts. "I should have died in a mission, not this way."

/If you had died on a mission, I'd have followed after you.../ "Maybe," was all Dorian said softly.

"I'm sorry, Dorian, that everything is turning out this way..." That Dorian loved him, that it was all just a waste in the end.

Dorian's voice was soft when he answered. "I don't regret anything to do with you, Klaus. I never could. I want to be by you every moment that we have..."

"Dorian, people like me aren't supposed to die this way." He'd always been prepared, uncaringly, to die in a mission. It would have been fast, probably painless, and with dignity.

"I know, darling," Dorian replied sadly. "I know. But... I.... I don't want you to die. And I don't know how to deal with that yet. I'll try. Soon. All right? It's just so impossible..."

"I'm tired. I don't want anyone -- *you* -- to remember me like this." He couldn't look at the blond man as he said that -- had to glance out a window for fear of the earl seeing the shaky emotions his voice wasn't betraying half as much as his eyes were.

"I love you so much," Dorian told him softly. "I just want to keep you with me as long as I can. No matter what, my memories of you will always be the most wonderful part of my life, Klaus. Always..."

It didn't matter for Klaus what he did... because either way, it was ending. He'd be dead soon, just... nothing. If a heaven and hell *did* exist, it didn't take much thought for him to figure out where he was going. And if it didn't... then there was nothing. /I can at least make him happy. I'm not going to get better, so for Dorian.../ "Tomorrow..." Tomorrow he could either dive for the nothingness, or try for something else. "Tomorrow let's go on that picnic."

"All right, darling," Dorian said shakily. "We can do whatever you want. Anything, really. Do you want to stay at the Schloss? Would you rather come to North Downs with me, maybe? Anything..."

Klaus shook his head firmly. "Nein. I said a long time ago, when I first joined NATO that I wouldn't die anywhere other than Germany. I... couldn't do otherwise."

"Then we'll stay right here," Dorian said, agreeing. "We won't go anywhere. Just here..."

Here. The bed, in which he spent more and more time, tired, sleepy, too fatigued sometimes to do much more than have Dorian read to him. On the bad days... "We'll watch the news when we get back." They'd sit on the sofa, still touch... and maybe he could find a way to lift Dorian's mood.

"That sounds fine, darling. I'll send the butler out to fetch your medicines and we can have some of those vanilla cookies you like so much...."

"Sure." The edges of his mouth twitched up just minutely. He really *didn't* like those cookies so much, but he could *stomach* them, so he might as well eat them. "I... I'm sorry it's turned out like this, Dorian. If I'd known everything was going to go this way, I would have... so much sooner..."

"Darling, the years loving you have been wonderful. This..." Dorian shook his head. "You and I, that's just the climax of the whole thing. Nothing could ever be as wonderful as this. No regretting anything. All right?"

"I regret that I treated you so badly, for so long." There, the one thing that worried at Klaus's mind, finally said. He wished that *he* had known for longer that he loved the other man. Then, perhaps knowing that he'd be gone from Dorian so soon wouldn't hurt as badly.

"I don't," the Briton returned with a little laugh. "Mmmm, darling. It was the most marvelous chase. It only made finally winning you, finally getting to love you, a more precious and wonderful thing. Truly. If you had realized too soon, I might not have been prepared to love you as much as I do now. I wasn't very mature, in the beginning..."

Klaus's mouth twitched up again, a little less sad than before. "You're still not mature, Dorian," he teased a little, shifting in the seat and letting one hand drift to settle on Dorian's knee. "If you were grim all the time..."

"THEN you'd know I was mature, hm?" Dorian teased in return.

The hand on his knee squeezed gently. "Yeah. And I'd be disappointed."

"I'm glad you feel that way, darling," Dorian said softly. "I love you madly, you know."

"Madly?" One dark eye-brow rose in question at him, hoping Dorian meant that in the very British way he often did -- to emphasize something.

"With every breath in me," Dorian clarified.

Relaxing a little, Klaus nodded -- good to know that Dorian wasn't planning on losing his mind anytime soon. That amused him just a little, but he didn't laugh, only looked up to the approaching gates of the Schloss. "I'm much the same."

"I know, darling. I know," Dorian said softly.

Quiet fell as they drove through the gates, rolling up the drive. When the car was parked, Klaus leaned over, a little tiredly, and brushed a kiss against Dorian's mouth. "Danke."

"I love you so much," Dorian whispered, caressing his cheek. "So much."

The stroke of fingers was felt, light over his skin, across high, sharp cheekbones. "If you believe at all in second chances, Dorian... maybe we'll get a third."

"I believe that no love this strong could ever come to an end," Dorian murmured quietly, turning his face to kiss those fingers. "Ever."

/Strong.../ Klaus let his fingers linger against Dorian's lips, touching warm, damp skin. "Let's go in."

That suggestion was taken to heart, Dorian shifting to get out of the car and coming around to Klaus's side to open the door for him. "I'll send your butler to fill your scripts, darling. We'll do something else entirely for a while this afternoon."

"Anything at all," Klaus sighed, moving to stand up and use Dorian for support.

"I had the maids dust upstairs," Dorian murmured. "We could always go and visit Benidict. They even removed the old mattress and replaced it. Fresh sheets and everything...."

"If you'll help me up the stairs, then I will," Klaus murmured. That room was at the very top, and afforded a lovely view... "Tomorrow... we'll go out on the roof. It's a sight to see the lands from there." /Or, today.../

Dorian smiled at him as they headed towards the back door. "Darling, I'll carry you up, if need be," he said softly. /He's not so heavy that it would be difficult me. Not now.../

"Carry me up? No," Klaus scowled at him, sliding an arm around his lover's waist. The power wasn't behind the scowl anymore, though -- it was a reflex, a flicker of old expression. "No one is carrying me anywhere."

"Of course not, darling. Want to stop in the kitchen and tell them to bring up lunch?" Dorian asked, standing now at the bottom of the back set of stairs and looking at Klaus with a smile.

"Mm, Yes." A little extra walking that would probably leave him tired when they finally got there.

"You can wait here," Dorian offered. "I'll tell them and come right back..."

"All right." He settled on the steps once Dorian let him loose, more than willing to rest and wait. It gave him a chance to look around, taking in the familiar halls that he'd lived in for most his life.

In so many ways, those halls had never truly been home. Where he lived, yes, but not *home*. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt as though any place in particular was home -- his office with the AAlphabets, perhaps, had been more so than anything else. Now, though...

Now...

Dorian...

"They'll be bringing things up shortly, darling," came the blond man's voice as he strolled into sight. "Everything will be ready for us."

Home was wherever Dorian was, it seemed. The halls gained a new lustre when Dorian was standing in them with him... or sitting, as the case was. "Good."

"Come on, darling," Dorian said quietly, holding out a hand and helping Klaus up. "Benidict is waiting for us."

It was surprising how much of a pull there was on the offered hand, as Klaus tried, discreetly as he could manage, to haul himself up using Dorian for counterbalance. "All right. I... I'm a little tired..."

That gained him a smile, and a kiss to go with it. "Okay," Dorian told him, lightly kissing him again. "We'll go slow." Klaus wouldn't let the thief carry him, Dorian knew, but that didn't mean that he couldn't offer his support.

The German man slid an arm around Dorian's waist, grasp light. It was a tragedy that a hand and arm that had been able to support the recoil of a Magnum with so little effort, was now reduced to clutching for support. But Klaus was still intent on keeping appearances to a point. "If we go too slow, the staff will pass us on the steps up." Not the most appropriate joke, but then most of Klaus's jokes weren't.

"Then that just means we can eat when we get to the top," was the equally teasing answer as they began to go up, slowly but surely, pausing at the landing. "That won't be too bad. We can eat and lay in bed... I'll feed you grapes. Or cookies..."

"Tomorrow, Dorian, we're going to do that on the roof. I haven't been up there in too long," Klaus reiterated, even as he nodded to Dorian's suggestion. /I'm agreeing to lying in bed. As a plan for the day... fell so far, so fast.../

"That sounds perfect," Dorian agreed, stopping at the next landing momentarily to tug Klaus to him and steal a kiss from him, forestalling the need for rest and the possible objections that might have come with it had he made the suggestion of necessity. "Hmmmmm. Perfect...."

It gave a rest for Klaus's aching muscles, however brief at first -- because even as tired as he was, Klaus mustered up the strength for another, deeper kiss.

"I'll never get tired of kissing you," Dorian whispered. "Or touching you or loving you or of having you feel the same about me... Never."

And there wouldn't even be a chance to test that statement to its fullest limits. "No... you won't," Klaus observed, voice a tinge bitter.

"Darling," Dorian whispered, holding him close for a moment. "My love..." His promise hung heavily on him as he cradled the back of Klaus's head in a palm, face pressed lightly to that of his lover. He didn't know how he would bear to be alone. He just didn't... couldn't... "I love you."

"I know." Now. Now, and since he'd first been told he was sick, dying slowly. Dying even when he wasn't willing to face it... "Upstairs, Dorian. Please." /Before emotion stops me from moving where pain can't./

"Come on," came the quiet agreement, Dorian lightly shifting beside him, hand on Klaus's elbow, arm around his waist. "We'll go."

The next landing was reached just a bit quicker, the sharp bite of a life that felt particularly unfulfilling until its last gasps giving Klaus enough energy to reach it, and then finally, the level beyond, the top level, without as much trouble as it could have given him. "Has the room been dusted out?"

"Yes," Dorian replied, even though he'd already told Klaus so. "The bed's been changed, the mattress taken away. They... didn't change it after they found Benidict there, so I thought it would be a good idea to suggest that they do so. They haven't replaced the curtains, but..."

/We're too close to those two, anyway; we can't be sleeping where the body was.../ "That's fine," Klaus murmured, walking down the hall with Dorian.

"Here," Dorian said, and pushed open the door.

The servants *had* made it up before them, but Dorian had been preparing somewhat for bringing Klaus upstairs, anyway, so part of the work had already been done. A table had been set up for them, blindingly white cloth covering it. Plates were already set out, candles lit all over the room, and everything was perfectly in place. "Surprise, darling," the tall blond whispered.

"You...!" It got him a surprised laugh, turning a little to better look at Dorian. "You've been plotting this!"

"Yes," Dorian admitted. "I wanted to bring you up and..." And make love with him, kiss him all over, celebrate being *alive*.... He gave Klaus a little smile and a wink. "Get naked with you," he confessed.

"You pervert." Less accusation and more praise than Klaus would have wanted to admit to, even as he leaned close to take a kiss. "We'll start on that once the servants have come and gone." /You're perfect, Dorian... always do things like this perfectly, or near to it.../

"Mmmmhmmmmmmmm," Dorian nearly hummed in agreement, parting from him only slightly as the door opened and food was brought in, quietly and efficiently placed so that they could eat it, and then the servants were gone again, door shutting quietly behind them. "Now, then..."

"I suppose lunch or whatever this is first," Klaus murmured, pulling back some before heading towards the table. He made it without Dorian's support, but with a near stumble as one knee tried to give up on him.

Dorian didn't try to catch him, didn't offer help. It wasn't that he didn't want to -- it was more that Klaus wouldn't want him to, so instead he lightly pulled out a chair and let Klaus seat himself before moving across the way. "The cook made everything you like best," he said easily, seating himself. "I admit that I had them working before we even left!" Of course, then, he'd not realized what terrible news they would be given...

Everything Klaus liked best was a medium-well done steak, fried potatoes and Nescafe. He noted that he'd probably feel stomach sick after eating, but, hell... what reason did he have *not* to? "Eroica; always prepared."

"I try," Dorian answered demurely, smiling at him. "I hope you enjoy it, darling."

"You'd better eat, too, if you're going to make me," Klaus told him with a nod of his head towards the Englishman's plate.

With a smile, Dorian lifted his fork and speared a fried potato. "I'm going to make you," he replied. "And then..." That sentence slid off into nothing more than a slightly sly expression.

"I'm afraid you must elaborate for the uncreative mind," Klaus told him, chewing on a fried potato.

"And then," Eroica nearly purred, "both of us are going to get naked and I'm going to let you have your wicked way with me."

"I am?" Klaus asked, looking a little surprised for a moment -- but the glint in his tired eyes gave that shock away as having been a tease.

It gained him a laugh, a reach of Dorian's hand and a caress of fingers. "You are," he was assured even as the thief stole one of his fried potatoes to tease him in return.

A brief glare, and then Klaus shifted the plate protectively closer, smiling at Dorian all the while. "Don't take food from a hungry wolf."

"Will it get me punished later?" Dorian purred.

"Maybe." In truth, Klaus wasn't so sure -- wasn't so sure that the food he was eating just then wouldn't make him sick, wasn't so sure that his energy, waxing and waning, that his aching body would even let him play more than once in a day. Mornings were always best for play, and he was so tired... But then, neither did he want to waste a moment he had with Dorian.

His lover understood, though, and they ate together for a while in companionable quiet until Klaus no longer seemed to want anything on his plate. "Want to lay down for a bit?" Dorian invited quietly. "Talk, maybe? Nap?"

"Ja." All of the above, and it was always a strange sort of heaven to lay there with Dorian, sex or not. Klaus stood slowly, pushing his chair back before he rose. "Ja."

A hand took his, Dorian rising with him, and they walked together to the bed. It was high, requiring the use of a small stool that Dorian kicked out from underneath it to get into at all, even for such tall men as they both were. It made it easier for Klaus, though, and soon Dorian was beside him, the feather tick soft beneath them both as they lay there in the center of it. The room was deliciously warm despite the slow approach of fall, and it was still lit with sunlight working through the ragged draperies and the flicker of the candles on the table. "There."

"Nice." Klaus shifted slightly, then laid there, taking in the feeling of softness and comfort. Dorian, nicely close to him; an easing of the pain in his chest; the urge to cough that came from too much movement.

"Benidict looks very happy in that picture," Dorian murmured, nuzzling against Klaus carefully. "As if everything is right with the world."

"Right now, it is." Klaus's strong voice was a whisper, not weakened, just... as if the calmness of the room was not to be disturbed. "The only real regret I have is that I didn't let it get so until it was too late."

"It isn't too late," the quiet reply came, a hand feathering lightly over his face. "Between us, nothing is ever too late. There are no regrets to be had, because I love you, and you love me, and...." Dorian was trying so hard not to fall to pieces! "And that's all that matters."

The slight smile that rose to Klaus's mouth was knowing, though, as he shifted a hand against Dorian's side, half-knotting into the silken fabric Dorian wore. "Maybe we'll get a third chance... I can't tell."

"I love you, Klaus," Dorian whispered, leaning forward to press his lips tenderly to that curve of mouth, nuzzling at the other man momentarily before kissing him again.

/I know.../ Through and through, he knew it, could admit to it. He'd been happy when a mission was completed, when he made his family proud -- which was so very seldom, that -- but it was empty. It was a hollow happiness, and he'd never understood what was wrong. What was missing from *him* that he couldn't get enough joy out of those things. Now it made sense... "I love you, too, Dorian. If you weren't here..."

"I am," came the low murmur, accompanied by a brush of Dorian's nose against his cheek. "I'll always be with you."

"But if you weren't..." He couldn't even comprehend it -- his mind couldn't stretch to those lengths of possibility. Dorian and he were together, as happy as they could given the situation. "Forget that promise, Dorian."

"K-Klaus!?" That gained a widening of those gorgeous eyes, an expression that almost hurt. "The... one that I gave you? The one about..."

"If you weren't here, Dorian..." /Say it, Klaus. Coward./ "This would be the worst suffering of my life. I wouldn't have... made it as long as I have."

The awful glittering well of tears became obvious as Dorian closed his eyes and they seeped out from beneath thick lashes, his arms pulling Klaus tightly to him. "I love you," he whispered hoarsely. "I would never want to go anywhere you couldn't follow." /I don't want you to go somewhere that *I* can't. I would follow you anywhere, my Klaus.../

In that moment, Klaus desperately wished he had the strength of mind left to hang on for weeks... years on end. Perhaps, if the treatments had started with Dorian there, if the news had been given to him with Dorian there, then he'd still have the strength left. But they were almost happy then; it was enough, more than Klaus ever expected to have. He hugged Dorian closer, just as was done to him in turn, uttering, "Mine."

"I don't ever want to let you go!" Dorian mumbled, face buried against Klaus's throat. "I don't ever want to lose you. I can't. I can't be without you. I can't live that way. I can't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!!"

"Dorian..." A softly breathed word, as Klaus threaded one hand slowly through Dorian's hair. "Shhh, shh... I've thought about it. When you were on that mission... the only reason I didn't just die was because you were coming back."

"I love you," came the whisper, barely heard, lips still pressed to his throat. "I love you, darling. I do. So much..."

"We're both tired. Why don't we just sleep for a while?" Klaus asked. The bed was comfortable enough to manage that while clothed, and it certainly wasn't the first time Klaus had slept fully dressed.

A sigh drifted from the blond man, his arms still holding Klaus tightly. "That sounds like a very good idea," he murmured. It DID sound like an excellent idea, he was so *tired* and he knew that Klaus must be even more so...

In the moments it took to say that and focus his eyes on Klaus's face, the German was already sleeping.

~~~~~

It was nearly eventide when Dorian woke again, face pressed hotly against Klaus, and the candles were flickering nubs. For a while, that didn't register, and then he realized that they had been completely careless in leaving them lit. /Well.../ Well, hell.

Carefully, he shifted, moving his head to the pillow and looking at Klaus. Dark lashes shadowed pale cheeks, as beautiful as ever, only the mop of black hair missing, and that broke Dorian's heart. Klaus had always been so exquisite, and so *proud* of all that hair, refusing to cut it.... /Ah, but he's still exquisite, and he's still with me, so that's all right.../

It had grown some since when Dorian had first seen it, leaving Klaus's head black, with small feathers of that raven-wing hair resting close to his scalp. If given a *real* choice, he would never have cut it off, but... There hadn't been a real choice. Better to lose it all at once, instead of losing it in humiliating chunks. At least the shortness had hidden the patches of bareness that appeared and still lingered in odd spots. Klaus had said something about having kept a coil of it, hadn't he? Dorian would have to remember to ask if he had...

The German man was still sleeping soundly, so it was up to Dorian to decide if he wanted to break what could have been a threateningly heavy slumber. "Darling?" he whispered softly, nudging Klaus. "Darling, it's almost sunset...."

"Nnh?" Green eyes that were more grey than ever before -- sickly so -- opened slowly; before he could even focus on Dorian's face, he started to sit up a little.

"Hey..." Dorian pulled him back down, close against him. "You wanted to go up to the roof. It's almost sunset. I thought you might want to do that tonight..."

"Yeah." He shifted again, up just a little. "Let's go now, then? Grab a blanket."

Wordlessly, Dorian rose, pulling the quilt from the top of the bed and folding it over an arm. The candles, he blew out once Klaus was up and headed towards the door, the setting sunlight beaming in through a hole low in the velvet draperies. "Is it the stairway at the end of the hall?" Dorian asked him quietly.

"Ja," Klaus smiled, lingering in the doorway. He was looking very forward to getting a look around the grounds, a good look. He'd always liked to go up there before, and had done so a few times while Dorian had been gone; but never before *with* Dorian.

"Come on." An arm lightly wrapped around his waist as they headed for the end of the hall, supporting him as much as anything else. "It ought to be beautiful today..."

"It's always beautiful." It was Germany -- and to Klaus, how could it be anything but beautiful? It was his ancestral *home*, a piece of land that was his even if it had never felt home-like to him.

"I can imagine," Dorian said gently, opening the door to the stairs and heading up them, still supporting Klaus. He seemed so light, just then...

The steps were stone, and at the top of their short dark path was another door, equally easy to unlock. Then they were outside, standing on a large railed in area meant to be used for watching the surrounding countryside.

"Oh, *darling*," came the murmur. "It's GORGEOUS..."

"Ja," Klaus all but purred, pulling away to walk as best he could towards a corner on the railed off section, leaning out a little to better see the expanse of gardens and the trees and small roads beyond. The town was in the opposite direction, but it was such a high point up, and the view was so unobstructed on that side that it was his favorite. "Sit here?"

"Right here," Dorian agreed, sitting and spreading out the blanket over his lap, beckoning Klaus to settle between his knees.

Klaus settled there comfortably, leaning back a little against Dorian. Before, he would have protested -- but it was cozy, warm, and let them both see the grounds while making that comfortable contact.

"Your land is beautiful," Dorian told him quietly, watching as the setting sun gilded the entirety of it with the last of its gleaming rays. "I'm glad we came up here."

"I'm going to miss it," he murmured softly, not daring to close his eyes and perhaps miss a second of that gilded setting sun. "And you..."

/Not as much as I'll miss you,/ Dorian thought sadly, burying his face against the back of Klaus's neck. "Yes," he agreed, hugging Klaus close to him. "I know, darling. Life without you won't be life at all."

"If I could do anything to make you happy, still, Dorian..." He would have; it ached, to know that the bright-hearted thief was in such pain because of him.

"Darling..." Dorian murmured. "I could never be happier than I am to have you close to me."

/And when I'm not close to you anymore...?/ "I don't want to die and leave you here."

"I don't want you to die, either," came the solemn admission. "I love you, darling. I do. And... what's happening is inevitable. I hate it, you hate it, but...."

"If I hadn't smoked..." He wouldn't be there, dying like that. Neither would he have been sane, since smoking had kept his nerves calm for many many years, a habit started early in life. When he'd realized it was killing him... fear had been a better deterrent to smoking than he'd thought. Fear and distractions.

"It doesn't matter, darling," Dorian murmured, holding him close. "'If only' has never done anything more than make someone miserable."

"I know, but it's so tempting..." To wonder what things would have been like if he and Dorian hadn't had *that* to deal with... Could it have lasted through missions and their lives' demands? "I love you, Dorian."

That was enough to rip Dorian apart, his arms coming tightly about Klaus, face burying against the top of his head. "I know," he managed to answer shakily. "I know. I love you, too, darling. With everything in me, I love you."

"It's a good feeling," Klaus whispered, gaze focused on the setting sun. "I never felt that before you."

"I'm glad," Dorian told him quietly, holding him close. "I'm so glad you could. I... You're wonderful. You're the most wonderful person in the world to me..."

"Shhh." Simple, firm as he leaned back a little more into Dorian's embrace. "I think I understand now." He wasn't one to need Dorian's feelings reassured to him over and over -- just the fact that Dorian was there with him said everything he needed.

"I love you," Dorian told him once more before allowing silence to blanket the rooftop, both of them watching as the sun went down slowly.

When it had faded to a faint glow of red, Klaus turned in Dorian's arms to take a kiss. "Thank you for waking me up to see that."

"You're most welcome," was the murmured response, Dorian kissing him again, lips soft, tender. "Hmmm, how are you feeling?"

"Tired," Klaus admitted a bit slowly. "Hurting, some. But... I don't think that's any reason to not enjoy a nice evening like this."

"Would you like to go downstairs again in a bit? Back to the rose bed?" Dorian invited quietly, kissing the shell of his ear lightly. /My Klaus. My most darling wonderful Major.../

"When I'm tired enough," Klaus murmured, pushing Dorian to lay back onto the flat roof. "Not yet. Not nearly yet."

"For as long as you want," Dorian agreed quietly, a slight smile tilting up those full lips, making it into his eyes. "Or until it's too cold to stay anymore."

"I don't like being uncomfortable that much." He bristled a little at the implication that he'd stay there long after it was too cold to be up there but couldn't bristle fully. He could only say it wryly and smile just a little. He didn't want to leave the roof and it's beautiful view of Germany. Free Germany.

"Mmmhmmmm," Dorian told him teasingly, kissing that lovely mouth again sweetly. "The stars will be out shortly," he said. "It'll be beautiful, as cool as the weather's gotten."

"I've never made love to someone with the stars for light," Klaus murmured, shifting up onto his knees, still kissing at Dorian's mouth. "Let me."

"Yes..." It was the only answer, the inevitable answer as Dorian gave in to him, willing to give him anything that he wanted. "Yes..."

"Move the blanket first," Klaus instructed softly, moving back so he wasn't pinning it anymore. That way there would be only soft cloth touching skin, not the rough roof.

Wordlessly, Dorian obeyed. The blanket was stretched out there, close to the railing so that Klaus could still see whatever he wanted, and then the thief was back in his arms, kissing him, wrapping himself around him to keep him warm. "I love you," he whispered between those sweet, biting nips of kisses. "I love you with all of my heart..."

A heart that was breaking minute by minute, the time not passing nearly slow enough.

"Mmm, yes." Klaus's breath was a replete sigh, caught between the urges of just kissing Dorian, and wanting to do more. "Help me... undress you."

That request was one that Dorian found easy enough to fulfill, fingers coming up to work at the buttons of silk shirt slowly, pulling them open to reveal skin to the night air. It made his nipples perk, tiny bits of deliciously hardened flesh exposed to starlight and to Klaus before he ever got his pants unbuttoned, but somehow it felt so good! It was especially so thanks to the warmth radiating from Klaus, and the way that his hand made its way up Dorian's side, drawing a little sound of pleasure from him. "Ohhhh..."

He was sure that he'd never get enough of touching Dorian's skin; but slipping his hand up Dorian's lean side, and then over to cup a hard nub wasn't enough. He wanted to be skin to skin with his lover while he still had the strength to do, and the cold could be damned! "Help me, too," he whispered, even as he aided Dorian in sliding off tight pants.

"Here," Dorian murmured, fingers already working his clothing off with quick touch. "Here, darling. I've got it..." The sound of that liquid voice was slightly hoarse, trembling with passion, and his hands moved quickly so that they were soon one against the other and bare beneath the sky. "Oh, Klaus..."

Klaus pulled the edge of the blanket over them then, glad that its size was enough to easily cover their narrow widths three times over. All the extra warmth he needed, other than to feel the heat of Dorian's touch. His frame settled atop Dorian's for a moment, pressed knee to knee, hip to hip while Klaus took one long, searching kiss. "I love you." Did his voice break heavily then? No, it must have been his imagination...

"I know," Dorian whispered back to him, pelvis lazily shifting beneath him to bring burgeoning erections into contact, the man's hands stroking down his thighs as legs parted, wrapping around those of the German man slowly. "I know, lover. Forever," he agreed, lightly stroking the short, dark hair atop Klaus's head before kissing him tenderly again.

When Klaus pulled back from the kiss, some sort of choked breath left him -- but whether emotion or the cancer caused it was anyone's guess. He shifted onto his knees, mostly sitting as Dorian's legs clasped around his narrow waist. It was one long chance to look down at Dorian's pale, beautiful body, the spill of golden hair beneath a decadently sprawled body. "You always lay like you're... a feast just for me."

"Darling," Dorian purred, a hand slowly caressing up his own belly to brush palm against nipple. "I am..."

Calculated to arouse, like so many things Dorian had always done. Twisting his hair just a little, the way he dressed, the way he *moved*, all meant to catch eyes; flaunted to catch Klaus's eyes. Now this was a show just for him, one of so many he'd had. Twisting their bodies a little closer, he slid his cock so that it nestled against Dorian's entrance. "You're beautiful touching yourself."

He could see the sheerly visible affect it had on his blond lover, the man moaning with abandon and arching his back, lips parted, cock jumping slightly with a sudden rush of blood to pulse against his belly. "Yes... Oh, God, *Klaus*, I love you!" he managed to get out, biting his lower lip.

"Do you want me to?" Klaus asked roughly, pressing a little as he tried to think of a way to prepare the way first.

"Oh, *yes*," Dorian told him dreamily, a hand drifting down to touch his own hard flesh before reaching to caress over Klaus's. "If you'll look in my pocket..." he murmured, indicating the pants so lately abandoned.

The blanket was shuffled aside, pants located with little movement made, the pocket searched... how Dorian secreted away such things, even though the tube was tiny, while wearing clothes so tight was beyond Klaus's ken. "You devil," he mused, moving back to press warmly atop Dorian for a moment.

"Your devil," Dorian agreed in a purr, stealing his mouth to kiss him deeply, hands roaming over warm flesh. "Entirely yours, Klaus... always..."

When Dorian's graceful thief's fingers slid over his buttocks -- woefully thinner than they'd ever been -- Klaus pressed closer to actually entering Dorian, chuckling roughly. "Ah, ah... let me prepare you first."

"Hurry," the man urged, rocking against him. He was already terribly excited -- anything he did with Klaus guaranteed that -- and it was all he could do to wait, to not demand that the other man take him, and damn the lube! He wasn't stupid, though, or too terribly inclined to masochism, so he waited, teasing at Klaus all the while.

The temptation drew breaths from Klaus that were more labored than usual -- more excited or more strained one or the other -- and fingers fast feeling the chill slicked themselves with the lubricant, two pressing in as one at the point where Klaus's body pressed against Dorian's.

"Ahhh!!" The reward of that cry accompanied by the shift of Dorian's hips was surely enough to make him forget the rising coolness of the air, especially when that glorious head full of curls tossed against the blanket. "Klaus!! *Please*!!" He wasn't going to stop, though -- not until he'd pushed the lubricant within Dorian's tight clench, not until he was sure he wouldn't leave Dorian hurting too badly come morning. The sounds of Dorian's cries rose into the night air, almost echoing in the serene stillness. "Please....!" The hoarse sound of it was delicious, and when his fingers brushed against the nub of Dorian's prostate, he *knew* it. "AHHH!!"

Knew it even though his fingers didn't seem to really feel too much of anything -- just the pressing heat, and then the quiver around them. They were pulled out, and the rest of the small tube was squeezed onto his erection, slicked quickly over the foreskin and shaft. Then he was pressed against Dorian, seeking entry. "My thief."

"Yes..." The word came on the breath of a whimper, arms reaching to pull him close, words whispered in his ear. "I'll always be yours..."

As Dorian pulled him close, a little farther out of the night's whimsical wind, Klaus finally pressed in enough to gain entry, caught in the heat of Dorian's body and his arms. "Mine."

It brought a little sound from Dorian, a sweet whine of pain-pleasure accompanied by the snug clench of the other man's body wrapping tightly around the stiff flesh of his erection. "Yours," Dorian whispered heatedly in his ear, shivering and holding him close. "Oh... OH.... I'm yours, always yours, oh, God, *PLEASE*, Klaus!!" His hips rocked up, taking in more of the German man with that motion, though not all of him by far. "*Please*!!"

"Uhhm..." Hard to concentrate at all, between the clasp of Dorian's arms and his body, the British man screaming his name and exclamations to the deaf ears of an empty night. "Ah, Dorian... Oh... loosen... Your... ah, arms..." His chest was hurting suddenly, an oddly familiar pain, but he didn't want to let Dorian know that -- didn't want to lose the desperate pleasure of the moment.

Those arms *did* loosen then, to stroke his skin, teasing at him, touching him, hands lightly grasping his rear to pull him closer. "I love you," Dorian moaned, shaking his head slightly back and forth. "I love you so much!" /Don't die on me. Don't go away from me. I can't bear it!!/

It was a mantra that had once been humiliating to his pride to hear, and now it was something that he could die happily hearing, over and over again, Dorian's voice strung into such tight, rapt pleasure. "Yes..." His hips pressed fully into Dorian's, and then rocked back gently.

The pure pleasure of it was nearly unbearable, Dorian shivering with each easy thrust and withdrawal. Nothing had ever felt so good, so hot, so utterly *perfect*, and his voice cracked with emotion as he whispered, "My Klaus. My darling Klaus, my love, oh, *GOD*, yes, yes, yes..."

The heat and shiver of it was such a contrast to the chilling wind that breathed against their bodies, the blanket barely touching them, slipped away in the motions of Dorian's thrashings and Klaus's steadily building thrusts. No air could be spared for words; Klaus could only kiss back, driving his body like the tank he'd treated it as. Onward despite it all, gathering the pleasure drawn from the moment, and each deep stab of his hips brought a corresponding sound of pleasure from Dorian at his impalement. It seemed to go on for the longest time, that lovemaking, and when Dorian finally cried out and came, it was all between them, body clamping down hard on Klaus, arms wrapped lightly around the other man's neck to keep them close.

A final twisting snap of Klaus's hips came at the same moment that Dorian's near-scream echoed in the gardens that surrounded Schloss Eberbach. Heated seed spilled into the thief's tight body, and once Klaus had shaken off the rigor of orgasm, he slumped atop Dorian, gasping in his breath.

"My Klaus," Dorian cooed between pants, unable to think anything else even as he petted his lover slowly, hands trailing down his back, touching every inch of him that the blond Briton could reach. "My darling. My lover. My Klaus. Oh..."

Each breath ached to pull in, and for a moment he struggled frantically against whatever was wrong -- but when he realized better what it was, moving out of post-orgasmic haze, his breathing calmed dramatically, though the aching pain didn't go away. "Ach, Dorian..." /I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.../

"I know," Dorian whispered, tears rising. He couldn't help himself. "I know. I know. I love you. I know..."

"Shhh..." His breath hitched for a moment, as he shifted, freed of Dorian's tight clasp and moving up to take a kiss from shaking lips. It was hard and painful to cry with just one lung taking in air; but it didn't stop Klaus, bitter tears that a life which was just starting to pick up was ending. He refused to die like some long-suffering animal, though. "You're wonderful to me."

Thumbs lightly caressed away the tears on that beautiful, thinning face, Dorian smiling at him blearily through his own. "I know," he tried to tease, though it probably fell flat thanks to his own trembling voice. "I know. I've never been so happy...."

"N-never." For a moment more he remained fully atop Dorian. Then he slipped a little to one side, moving one shaking hand to snag the half of the blanket they weren't laying atop and pull it over them. "A little while more up here, Dorian... I want to see the stars..."

"As long as you want," Dorian promised, curling against his side, one hand lightly on Klaus's chest, the other pressed between them. "I want to see them with you."

"Thank you." The hand on Klaus's chest could feel the wrongness within. The bare rise and fall, the slow, steady breathing interrupted by a pained hitch every so often.... but grey-green eyes were open, blinking away the tears almost lazily as he stroked a hand down Dorian's back. "Today hasn't been so bad."

/No... someone just told us you were going to *die*.../ Dorian thought, momentarily turning his face against Klaus's shoulder before he could bring himself to agree. "Could have been worse," he said finally. "Could have been raining."

"Could have hailed. Could... could have been that we didn't even get this far. 'm grateful you're here." Klaus's voice was soft, so strained compared to the bellow that could have awakened every soul in the town beyond the Schloss; it was worsened further by the emotions struck through it. "I could lay here forever."

"At least 'til it gets too cold to lay here anymore," Dorian said by way of agreement, hand lightly pressed over Klaus's heart. "It's beautiful here. I'm glad you wanted to come. I'm glad we made it up here..."

"I'm glad you didn't leave that day."

With a little laugh, Dorian felt his face flushing deeply. "Me, too," he whispered. "I nearly *died* of embarrassment once... I realized that... well. I was really rather overcome, you know. I hadn't ever before, at least not while I was here, while we were recuperating. Not in your bed, not even in the shower, only..."

"That one time." That seemed to be said with some trouble, but Klaus pressed onward. "And I'm glad you followed me to the gardens. In the rain."

"Yes. Darling? I think it's time to go inside now, where it's sure to be warm..." Dorian told him a bit worriedly.

"No, I want... to see Germany," he uttered stubbornly, turning his gaze to look out past the rail to the distant lights of the town and further, a faint glow on the edge of the horizon, Bonn. "'m glad you've loved me."

"With all my heart," Dorian whispered, mouth trembling violently, tears rising. "I've loved you with everything in me, for so long, Klaus. For so very long..."

"I felt 't... just didn't know.. what 't was, or how..." To say it. It had been said a hundred times that night already, or so it felt, but... one more, one last time. "Love you."

"Klaus?" In that whisper was the sound of Dorian shattering as he held the other man close, tears helplessly splashing onto Klaus's shoulder. "Klaus? Klaus, no...."

A sleepy, exhausted mumble of noise -- perhaps in German, perhaps not -- and the German man curled against Dorian a little; done with all the instinct of someone already in a deep sleep. Breathes were still drawn slow and only a little even, eyes closed lightly to the sight of the German countryside.

"Klaus...." The echo of it came back from the chimney, Dorian holding him tightly. "KLAUS! NO!!!"

~~~~~

"I'm afraid Herr Eberbach has slipped into a coma," the doctor standing in the parlor told a pale, shaking Dorian seriously. "I'm sorry, Lord Gloria."

"I understand," Dorian whispered, just barely keeping tears from slipping loose. For a moment, he'd been afraid that Klaus had died there on the rooftop. He had been alone for a while, sobbing heartbrokenly before he'd realized that the other man was still breathing. He'd dressed both of them hurriedly, blanket wrapped around Klaus, and hurried down the stairs to the first floor, calling for help as he went.

"Is there any possibility that he'll come out of it?" That was Klaus's father; the old man had come just as soon as Dorian had contacted him with the news. He didn't seem to show concern at all, other than a tight, miserable tension around watery old eyes.

"The chances are slim," the doctor told the man quietly. "Even if he weren't desperately ill, the prospect would be unlikely. Considering his illness..."

"Oh, God," Dorian whispered, unable to help himself.

"Lord Gloria." Stern, almost chiding tones went on, "Calm yourself. Klaus would not desire such reactions of anyone."

He was almost grateful for the older man's words. They gave him the impetus required to pull himself together as the doctor said quietly, "It's best to just leave things as they are. We can set up an IV to provide him with fluids and give him pain medication, but beyond that..." Beyond that, there just wasn't any point. It was only a matter of waiting for him to die.

Klaus's father shifted, hands clasped behind his back as he considered the man's words for a moment, and then his own dignity. "Klaus's will is very recent, but he made no mention of a funeral in it. Did he tell you anything Lord Gloria?"

"No," Dorian admitted quietly, tearfully. "He would have wanted to be buried here, I'm sure of it. He... he never loved anywhere as much as he loved here, or anything as much as what he did. The Alphabet... someone will have to tell his Alphabet..."

"I will call his office." It had been a given in his mind that Klaus would be buried in Germany -- beside his mother, unless there were... other arrangements to be made. It was social courtesy alone that made him say, "Do you have any protests to him being buried beside his mother in the family plot?" Funeral arrangements weren't something of which he should have been thinking. He was such an old man, he knew, but he'd outlived his family's heir, his *son*, who'd always served the country admirably...

Startled, tearful aquamarine eyes rose to look at the older man, Dorian biting down hard on his lower lip, breath catching. "No, sir," he whispered as the doctor moved to look over Klaus once again. "I have n-no objections. He..." He swallowed hard. "That's what he would want."

The stern old man seemed so much older as he nodded. "He'll be buried with full military honors." Other than telling Dorian that, he wanted to ask if he should let the blond crawl up into the attic so he could repeat his ancestor's fate.

"Well," the doctor said calmly from several feet away, "we'll be sending a nurse out shortly, if you like. Someone to care for him and do the necessities..." Just the sound of it made Dorian cringe. 'Necessities'. No one should have to take care of 'necessities' for Klaus, no one but him.... and he didn't even know where to begin....

"Thank you." Crisp words addressed to the doctor by Klaus's father, who was returning his attention to his son's body. Stiffly asleep on his back, arms resting atop the bedding, straight at his sides; looking as if he were a knight ready to be carried off to the pyre. It was Klaus's body, without the spark of his soul to animate it.

It was the most horrible thing he could have ever imagined.

"I'm sorry," the doctor told them both gently. "My sincere condolences."

"There could have been worse ways," the old man murmured, giving the doctor a polite nod. "Thank you, herr docktor. Have a good day."

Worse ways... Dorian couldn't think of any! "Yes," he said quietly, subdued. "Thank you." Now, he supposed, would be the time to call Bonham... James. To call Z and the other Alphabets... They should hear it from someone they knew. They should hear it in person, but there was no way he would leave Klaus for very long at all. He would be there 'til the end. "There are some phone calls that need to be made," he murmured, rising. "I'll show you to the door, Doctor..." Then, he would make them...

When he returned, Klaus's father was on the telephone talking with Klaus's chief already. He was notifying NATO of the situation, and to be prepared to bury one of their best in the most proper of manners.

There was no use in being angry or upset about it; he was only sorry for A and the others, who would be heartbroken to get the news from the chief...

...Unless he called them once Klaus's father was off the phone...

That seemed to be the thing to do, considering the way most of them felt about Klaus and the way they had all felt about the chief, in the long run, so he simply waited. It wasn't a long wait, and when he was done, Klaus's father simply handed the phone to Dorian, still on line to the Bonn office.

"Lord Gloria -- the Chief called me in here to say you... had something to say. Is... is the major all right?"

"A..." Dorian said quietly, grateful to the old man. "No. No, I'm sorry. He's not. He's comatose, currently. They... don't think he'll ever come out of it. I'm sorry..."

"Oh...!" The phone was set down, atop the nearest desk probably, with a clatter, and then Dorian could hear A leave the office for a few moments.

When the phone was picked up again, the sounds of crying were clear in the background. "L... Lord Gloria, we're all very sorry to hear t-t-that..."

"I know, A," Dorian managed to whisper, aware of the eyes of Klaus's father on him even as he teared up helplessly. "I know. I'm so sorry. I'll let you know wh-whenever something new comes up... All of you..."

"Thank you Lord Gloria... we... we'll be waiting to hear... hear more from you." But unless some miracle happened, they all knew what more was. And divine intervention just wasn't spared for the bodies of loyal soldiers.

"Yes. Yes," Dorian murmured. "Good...bye..."

The sound of phone touching cradle was loud in his ear, nearly dropped there by A's surely unsteady hands.

"I don't think he ever knew his men cared."

"Perhaps," Dorian replied quietly. "I think he did. They respected him. They loved him very much. He was... is..." His voice trailed into silence.

"A great loss." To NATO, to the Eberbach family, and to Dorian; the stern old man looked over to his son again, watery eyes seeming to unfocus. "He wouldn't have wanted to die this way; he was always ready to die for NATO, for others..."

"It was devastating for him to believe you were disappointed in him," Dorian said quietly. "Horribly so. He respected you very much."

"I wanted the best possible life for my son; he understood that."

Dorian's next words were soft, well thought out. "He didn't believe that you loved him."

"He should have known."

"He didn't." The words weren't accusatory, only quietly spoken. "Thank you for raising him. Thank you for telling him that you *did* love him when last you were here. He... is a remarkable, wonderful person. No one could be as magnificent as Klaus is..."

The urge to correct Lord Gloria with 'was' hung heavy in the air. But he didn't say it; only looked from his son to Dorian's pain-drawn face. "Will you carry on your family's lineage, Lord Gloria?"

"I have sisters," Dorian demured, watching Klaus solemnly. "Cousins. There's no danger to the line, and..." And no need for it, was there? After all, he was an art thief, homosexual, and they'd known for years that there would be no issue from him. His mother had known when she'd left his father, and he'd only been a child, then....

"Perhaps it is best this way, then. Old ghosts can rest," the old man uttered.

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked, brow knitting.

"Eberbach lineage has been direct since Tyrian himself," Klaus's father said, moving to sit in a chair not too far from the bed -- but not the nearest chair, which he assumed Dorian would take. "As I assume the Gloria line has been."

"Yes," Dorian admitted, shaking his head. The old man couldn't possibly believe... Well! It was just ridiculous! Wasn't it? "Are you suggesting that this is... is something..." Oh, he didn't know what!

"The parallels are close. I do not really know what I am suggesting." Only that it was too close to a historic replay for his comfort.

Well. Klaus would be the end of Tyrian's line, and he would be the end of his own in all ways that counted. How bleak that seemed, and how melodramatic, somehow! Klaus would chide him for it, but the thought was there nonetheless, there and aching. /Oh, Klaus,/ he thought, reaching for the other man's hand to hold. /My love.../

Limp, slightly chilled fingers were all that he grasped, though -- not filled with their strange strength that had been there even when Klaus had been sick. Had he known, when he'd asked Dorian to take him to the roof, what would happen? He couldn't imagine that it was so. He couldn't, because if he did, there was such a sense of sheer *morbidity* about it, wasn't there? Horrifically so, really. Had he known that making love to Dorian would be the last thing he ever did?

Unable to help himself, Dorian laid his head down next to Klaus's, tears welling up as he sighed deeply. /I love you,/ he thought, not caring that Klaus's father was in the room. /I love you. I love you.../

There was no answer, and he hardly realized when Klaus's father left the room to let him be alone.

~~~~~

The cathedral had been beautiful.

That was really all that Dorian could think. The prayer itself, the Latin, it had only caressed past his ears, just as the soft sniffles and sobs of the congregation had done. None of them had actually fallen upon him, his eyes caught up instead in the multitudes of flowers surrounding the casket, filling the church. They had come from everywhere; from the Alphabet, from his own men, even from Mischa...

They had come from *him*, hundreds of red and white roses, spilling their scent through the air, caressing the ebony wood of that terrible, terrible box, wood the color of Klaus's hair. /No. No. No./

Klaus would have been horrified and secretly delighted with the proceedings as they unfolded. During those confusing hours where the reality of his injury and cancer, and his want of Dorian had set in, he'd said that his funeral would have had only a handful of people -- perhaps his father, agents A and Z, perhaps a few more of the Alphabets, Dorian and his chief, there to make sure he was dead.

All twenty six agents were there, and the chief; Klaus's family, extended in all directions; scattered in amongst acquaintances Dorian had seen the faces of Mischa, and Polar Bear, a few other Soviets blending into the filled cathedral.

The eulogies were delivered first by Klaus's father in halting, pained words of regret for the strain of the final few days, and the assurance that Klaus was where he belonged to be for his unique loyalty to Germany and NATO. Z had spoken in a tear-roughened voice of how Klaus had terrorized his men to do their best -- partly for the enjoyment of watching them scatter, partly for keeping them on their toes. So few had ever died over the years, the weak weeded out in transfers or built up to strength.

Dorian knew that they expected him to say something -- all of them. He couldn't, though. He couldn't think, couldn't form words, couldn't even have functioned if Bonham and James had not been at either elbow, moving him forward, keeping him going. He wanted to *die*, to run forward and bury himself with Klaus in that coffin and to let them bury him. He wanted to die...

So he didn't speak.

Mild-spoken A did speak, though, in his expected stead -- telling of Klaus's great friendship with a contracted employee, a friendship that lasted past when Klaus could no longer serve in his duties any longer. It was short, but it showed another facet to Klaus, and A expressed his appreciation towards Dorian for caring for a man who watched over so many but had been so unwilling to let others help him.

All Dorian could do was sit and quietly cry, and he *hated* himself for it. He *hated* sitting amongst so many people, *hated* being so wretchedly distraught, *hated* that Klaus was *gone*... /I can't go through this anymore. I can't.../

Still, he had to remain there, and was allowed to travel with the family when the service ended and Klaus's body was taken to the cemetery.

It wasn't a rambling, flower-filled thing -- stern headstones jutted from the grass, stone slabs placed over the places of burial for flowers to be laid. Klaus's plot was right beside his mother's, both places already adorned with simple flowers.

The services in the cemetery were blessedly short, the priest quietly speaking the last of the rites that would be performed for Klaus, rites of which Dorian knew little and cared less save that they were condemning Klaus to the deep, dark ground. Such a terrible moment, that, when it came time for them to step forward, to toss a handful of dirt on the lowering coffin.

His handful was joined by the red rose that James had so lovingly pinned to his lapel earlier in the morning, the pin pricking his fingers so that droplets joined it as it fell. /Goodbye, Klaus... my Klaus. Oh, God.../ Both fell atop that lovely dark wood, the top of which had been covered with the West German flag until moments before Klaus's coffin was lowered into the ground.

"Eroica -- my sincerest regrets on your loss," a familiar, Russian accent-thick voice said from behind him, once he'd backed away from the grave.

The face he turned to Mischa was one ravaged with pain, a thousand years older than it should have been. "Thank you," he managed to say simply, looking at the other man solemnly, tears welling in blue eyes gone dark, anguished.

Dark sunglasses were removed for a moment so Mischa could meet Dorian's gaze for at least a short time, a hand offered to him. "It has been a pleasure to have you as an adversary; we will all miss Major Eberbach."

/Not as much as I will./ "I only regret that you've seen the last of me," was the quietly spoken reply, the hand met with firm shake even as others moved by the open grave and towards Dorian.

Klaus's father was given by Klaus's working acquaintances only the briefest of condolences; the deeper ones were passed between themselves and offered to Dorian. G hugged the Earl, sobbing, while A shook Dorian's hand firmly, eyes that had often managed to keep the Major from a fit of temper filled with heartsick sadness. "Lord Gloria, I... I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Dorian whispered, tears welling up and spilling over as his hand came up to touch his sinuses, an attempt to pull himself together. "Oh, God..." He *had* to be strong. Klaus would want him to be....

Wouldn't he?

"He told us to... to watch out for you if something happened to him," A told Dorian softly. "If there's anything I can do for you, Lord Gloria..." Anything short of bringing Klaus back from the dead.

"Of course." Of course he would. That was so Klaus, wasn't it? "Thank you," he said humbly, accepting the offer of a tissue from James and lightly rubbing it across his eyes to rid them of growing tears.

A wasn't about to let an awkward moment stretch in the air, so he nodded on to Dorian, tried for a smile before he left, unable to watch as dirt was added over the coffin.

"My lord...? Can we go home now?" James asked softly from his side, offering another tissue.

"In a moment," Dorian told him, lightly touching the smaller man's shoulder for comfort even as he took the second tissue, watching as they begin to fill in the hole. He wished someone could fill in the hole in *him* that way!

Klaus's father approached, other members of the Eberbach family still lingers in the cemetery. "Lord Gloria -- what do you wish me to do with the things Klaus wanted you to have?"

"I don't know," Dorian said softly, shaking his head as he considered the matter momentarily. "I... would like to have them delivered to my home, in England. James can take care of the details," he decided. "I will return them to the Eberbach family upon... the event of my death. Thank you, sir."

The old man eyed the little accountant warily for a moment, and then said, "Then hopefully we will not see those paintings in Schloss Eberbach for years to come. I'm grateful for what you did for my son. Thank you."

Helplessly, Dorian shook his head, tears finally, inevitably, welling up and spilling over, unstoppable, and even though it was stupidly impossible, he reached for the old man and hugged him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't save him. I would have d-done anything to *save* him..."

The pat he felt against his back was stiff and awkward, the kind the old man would have given a strange female doing the same thing against him. "You did a great deal more than he would let anyone else do. Thank you."

Pulling back, Dorian tried to smile for the old man, truly. God, how he'd hated him when Klaus had been so hurt and so afraid of him, and now...

Now, he just seemed like a sad, broken old man, one who'd probably been that way for so long that he didn't know how to be anything else. "You're welcome," he managed to say, braving a curve of lip that wasn't quite a smile -- just the best that he could do.

"Perhaps I will see you again," he said, by way of a departing pleasantly. he put his hat back on, giving Klaus's grave a final glance and then adjusting the flowers before that open pit as well as the ones on his wife's headstone. Yes, a sad broken old man who'd didn't have either member of his family any more -- only distant relatives.

"M'lord," Bonham said quietly.

"Just a moment," Dorian whispered, watching them fill the hole in farther. "In just a moment..."

"My lord, we should go *home* now," James said softly, tugging at his coat.

"I don't want to go," Dorian admitted sadly. "How can I leave him there like that?"

"He... Lord Gloria, Uncle NATO wouldn't want you just *staying* here," James half-whined, trying to cajole the earl into leaving.

Helplessly, Dorian took a deep breath. "No. He wouldn't, would he?" he said finally, quietly. "Take care of the things that he gave me, Jamesie. I want them home before I get there, all right? I want the bed to replace mine. It's beautiful, really..." he murmured sadly.

"When will you get home?" James asked softly, still clinging to Dorian's jacket. "Soon? I can get them there *fast*."

"Soon," Dorian promised. "Get me a ticket. Take care of it all, please...." /I can't. I can't.../ Could he ever? He didn't know, couldn't *think*...

"Oh, I will, Lord Gloria!" And the little accountant was willing to pay any price at all to get Dorian out of Germany and into England again, back home with them after being gone for so LONG.

Bonham's voice was quiet when he spoke. "M'lord?" Once he had the man's attention, he continued. "Will you be... all right?"

"No," Dorian said with a shrug, still watching as the last of the dirt was shovled in atop that glossy black coffin. "I really don't think I will."