CHAPTER EIGHT
FROM A PRINCE TO A FROG

After a restless night, Klaus turned over on the small cot and winced, his body reminding him of the bruises still covering it and his decision to ignore the painkillers. He opened his eyes and focused on an odd shape near the door. Then he realized it was Dorian curled up on the floor. He sat up and turned on the desk lamp. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he demanded.

Dorian recoiled, pressing himself back against the wall. “Nothing!” he cried defensively. “Sleeping!”

“What the hell’s wrong with out there?”

Dorian sat up, pulling his blanket around himself. “I…was afraid.”

Klaus scowled. “Afraid? Of what?” His mind suddenly snapped into focus and he looked up at the door. “Did someone threaten you again?”

“No…not really…”

“Then what really? What the fuck are you doing in here?”

Dorian put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. “Major, please, I’m still very muddled, can you understand that?”

The Major’s eyes narrowed. The Earl wasn’t the only one who was confused. He sighed heavily, grabbing his cigarettes. Then he sat back, folding his arms. “Tell me.”

“Are you going to lose your temper?”

“Don’t push your luck, Eroica,” Klaus replied dangerously.

Dorian was uncertain how to explain. It seemed so ridiculous now that he thought of it. Perhaps he was overreacting because of the incident at the bonfire. Then again…

Dorian drew a deep breath and explained that, just after the lights were turned down, he was sure he heard whispering, not that this should have alarmed him. It was the fact that he heard his name mentioned followed by gasps or titters. He tried to ignore it and actually managed to fall asleep. Later, he awoke and went to the toilet. When he returned, he found his bedding had been moved away from everyone else, yet it didn’t appear as though anyone had moved.

“I found it…very unnerving, Major. It was like…I was being watched.” Dorian pulled his knees up to his chest.

“So you decided to hide in here?”

“Yes.” Dorian gave him a guilty look. “I thought I’d be safe in here.” He studied the officer’s angry expression and wondered if he had gotten that wrong, too. “I am safe in here, aren’t I?”

Klaus gave him a disapproving scowl but did not reply. He looked at his watch and sighed. It was almost five thirty. There was no way he would be able to get back to sleep now.

“You haven’t even asked me how I got in here,” Dorian said mildly.

The Major replied with a snort. “The last thing I need to ask is how Eroica got through a locked door,” he said as he got to his feet, much to the Earl’s bewilderment. Before Dorian could enquire further, Klaus asked, “Are you going to hide in here all day?”

Dorian pulled himself further into a ball. “I probably shouldn’t. I’m just…very confused about all this. I don’t know what to think. I know I’m supposed act one way, but that’s not the way that I feel.” He put a hand to his head before giving the officer a searching look. “Is it true, Major? Am I like they say? A…homosexual?”

This was the last thing Klaus ever expected Eroica to ask him. The man who had made every indecent and perverted overture towards him almost from the moment he laid eyes on him was actually asking if he were queer. Bloody hell.

The Major gave the Earl a steady look and decided to sidestep the issue entirely. He zipped open the garment bag that he’d hung up on a bookcase. “I’m going to shower and change,” he announced. And I’m not going to do it with you here. He looked over at Dorian, who had not moved. “Go get some breakfast. They should be starting about now.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone,” the Major snapped more harshly than he intended. “There won’t be many people up this early. You’ll have the place to yourself.” He pulled out some clothes and laid them out. “Afterward you can make yourself presentable.”

“Alright.” Dorian slowly got to his feet and reached for the door. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Major,” he said mildly before exiting, leaving the officer staring after him.

* * *

The Major could not have been more delighted to be rid of the borrowed clothes for his own. He decided to forgo a tie, but wore his usual business suit…and gun. He strode through the gymnasium, seeing all was quiet. As he suspected, the majority of the occupants were still sleeping. He arrived at the cafeteria to find Dorian sitting by a window finishing his breakfast. The kitchen volunteers were making preparations for a hot breakfast, but there were plenty of baked goods available, along with hot coffee and tea.

The Major made himself a cup of coffee from his procured Nescafé that one of the kitchen volunteers had hidden away for him. He then selected a muffin before crossing to where the Earl sat staring out the window. “Did you eat anything?” he asked as he sat down.

“I wasn’t very hungry,” Dorian replied. He sat quietly a moment before saying, “I suppose I should go change.”

The Major nodded. “There’s a shower in the office. It will give you some privacy,” he informed. “Perhaps you’ll remember something when you look through your luggage.”

“I hope so.” Dorian gave the Major a steady look. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to be rid of me.” He did not wait for a reply, getting to his feet and leaving.

* * *

Just as Martha predicted, after a few days boredom set in, Klaus found himself breaking up a fight between two teenagers before breakfast was officially being served.

As if there weren’t enough injuries caused by the tornado, Klaus thought darkly, now he was dragging a couple of idiot teenagers to get themselves patched up. His only conciliation was when their mothers appeared as soon as he delivered them to be treated. The worst he could do to them was leave them to their mothers’ wrath, which he did.

When Klaus finally returned to the gymnasium, he was startled to see Dorian sitting in front of the bleachers that had been packed with children the day before. This time, they were completely deserted. Several small children tried to approach him, only to be pulled back by their mothers. One or two called out for him to tell a story, only to be hushed. Several individuals said something about not wanting to get the children over stimulated.

Just tell him you don’t want a faggot telling the children stories, Klaus thought. He was surprised at how angry he felt when he saw an injured expression on the Earl’s face.

Dorian turned to some of the women volunteers who had been fawning over him only twenty-four hours earlier. He asked if there were anything he could do to help. To his bewilderment, they pretended he wasn’t even there.

“I think people who put on fake accents just to impress people are so phony,” one said in an exceptionally shrill voice.

“And pretending to be somebody important is just so wrong,” another chimed in.

The group erupted into laughter as they continued toward the door, stopping dead when they came face to face with the Major, who stood glaring at them, his arms folded. “You ladies are talking very loudly,” he observed calmly. “One might think you were trying to draw attention to your inane chatter.”

“You can’t scare us, Major.”

The Major gave the woman a dark look, a small smile coming to his face when she flinched. “Oh?” he said mildly. “What makes you think I’m trying to scare you?”

“Aren’t you ladies supposed to be volunteering somewhere?” came Martha’s disapproving voice.

The Major turned to see the older woman scowling at the group. The younger woman he had been talking to said something vague about being on their way before the group vanished.

“If I didn’t need all the help I could get, I’d tell all those airheads to go home,” Martha said coolly.

The Major gave a snort of agreement but did not reply. He turned his gaze to the seemingly lost Dorian, who was still sitting in front of the empty bleachers.

“He’s quite the lost soul, isn’t he?” Martha observed.

“I wouldn’t know,” the Major replied evasively before heading for the nearest door. He needed some fresh air—and a cigarette.

Martha watched him go, a wry smile coming to her face. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

* * *

Dorian jumped when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re quite the fish out of water, aren’t you, dear?” Martha said mildly.

Dorian looked up, a watery smile on his face. He had gone through his belongings, finding himself astonished by the elaborate collection of garments. Some of them seemed vaguely familiar, although he was still surprised that he had ever worn such things. He had selected the least flamboyant apparel, which was not an easy accomplishment.

Then he decided that he should attempt to brave being seen in public, just to convince himself that he hadn’t been imagining the whispers the night before. He found the people who had embraced him the day before were deliberately shunning him. What had he done to deserve this?

“Are you sure you want to be seen talking to me?” Dorian asked bitterly.

“You’re joking? I’ve got the handsomest man in the county all to myself. Let ‘em talk!” Martha replied with a grin.

Dorian replied with a noncommittal grunt.

“Come on. If you’re gonna feel sorry for yourself, you might as well make yourself useful.” She held out a hand and waited until the Earl had taken it. Then she led him across the room.

“What do you need me to do, exactly?”

Martha gave him a bright smile. “I need you to keep me company.”

This actually made Dorian laugh. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” Martha pointed to a chair near the door. “You sit there. The people from FEMA are supposed to be setting up shop today. I have nothing to do until they get here.”

“FEMA?”

Martha waved a hand. “Nothing you need to worry about, handsome,” she said as she took a seat beside him. “What do people call you, anyway?”

Dorian scowled. “Pardon?”

This made Martha laugh again. “Oh, you really are a proper English gentleman, aren’t you?”

“Well, English, certainly. I’m not so sure about the gentleman part.” He gave the older woman a sideways glance. “I’m not supposed to like women.”

“That’s alright,” Martha said happily, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m not supposed to like men.”

Dorian’s blue eyes grew wide. “Martha!” he gasped. Then he started to laugh.

“So, does that mean I don’t have to call you your worship, or whatever it is the Major calls you?”

“Lord Gloria,” the Earl grinned. “He tells me my name is Dorian.”

Martha held out a hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dorian.”

Dorian took her hand and kissed it. “My dear Martha, the pleasure is all mine.”

* * *