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Author's Chapter Notes:

Language and a touch of  James abuse.

Now complete with a wonderful illustration by Singformebaby!

James had been planning for months. He had practiced his lock-picking technique, though "technique" was a generous term. He had studied up on his alarm-disabling, and even though he hadn't been able to practice on the real thing, he felt he had the illustrations sufficiently memorized. He tried to imagine different scenarios in his head... of course most of those went wrong. He'd even paid a sketchy looking lad who had claimed to know a man who knew a guy who was a plumber, and could acquire the floor plan of the building. Yes. He had it all worked out. The Earl would see this time, he'd show him he was worth his weight in bananas. All he had to do was steal the Pumpkin.

Er, The Man In Purple.

Cloaked in a patched black cape, stylish burglar's mask in place (really, it was one of the Earl's black stockings; he had been reluctant to cut holes in it but he'd saved the bits he had removed and he felt sure it would patch nicely), James crouched in a tree on the Eberbach estate. It was a familiar tree. He'd been there before. But this time the Earl wasn't there to save his skin. Not that James would need it! He felt prepared. He felt dangerous. He felt like a cat, balancing precariously on the proverbial limb, climbing toward his triumph! The literal limb, however, gave beneath him and he fell with it, face first with a less than stealthy "oof".

"Ow!" he said, but quietly, and sat up rubbing his head, his poor nose! He hoped it wasn't broken! It was so small and cute! The Earl hated big noses! He wiggled it, tried to look at it, and went cross-eyed. "Bugger!" A gentle touch satisfied him that it probably was not broken. It was painful, but he would overcome. "No time for self pity! Even a threat to my adorable nose shall not stop me!" He shook a fist at the dark, quiet castle.

James stood, brushed the dirt and leaves from his knees (one had to be stylish when burgling, of course), and crept forward. He would enter though the second floor guest room. The shifty lad's guy's guy had reported that the room lacked an alarm on the windows. (It had never occurred to James to speculate what a plumber might be doing in a guest room.) Thanks to his floor plan and a calculator which doubled as a tiny flashlight, he found the window easily enough. He stared up at it, considering. There was a bundle of rope, old and frayed, stashed beneath his cape, but now that he was there, standing beneath that window, he wasn't really sure how he should go about this. He had seen Lord Gloria scale walls with little more than a bit of rope... it couldn't be so difficult. But now that he came to it he wasn't sure how the Earl had done it.

Then something hit him. Literally. Something had fallen onto his head. "Ow!" he said for the second time that night and rubbed his poor head. This job was getting dangerous and he hadn't even begun! But it was only an acorn. Just a little acorn from the great big sprawling tree he stood beneath. The great big sprawling tree with the wide-stretching, sturdy limbs abutting the castle. Very near the window. Practically at the window. It all but screamed "Dear burglar, please, climb me!"

James considered it. Another acorn hit him. He got an idea.

"Ah!" he whispered excitedly, beaming with pride at his own criminal master mind. "I could climb the tree!"

At the risk of his nose, and after a few snags of his cape on various limbs, James had done just that. The longest branch of the tree came very near the guest room window, near enough that he could investigate the scene of his crime-to-be. The room beyond was dark, the glass reflecting a sliver of a moon. He fished out his calculator/penlight, nearly dropped it and very nearly fell himself in his effort to save it! He studied the lock. A sash lock! What luck! His favorite! He pulled a few tools from his jacket, and seconds later felt infinitely proud of himself as he watched the lock handle slowly move to an unlocked position. This was it! He'd done it! Congratulating himself, he put away his tools, then pushed on the window and... nothing. He pushed again. "Drat!" he whispered, inspecting the window further. A surface bolt taunted him from near the top of the window frame. No matter, he thought. A surface bolt was no match for James the Great, and (to his surprise) it wasn't! Moments later he pushed the window open easily, the hinges quiet even for such an old house.

"Well-oiled like all of the Major's toys," he said in a whisper then giggled to himself. Burglary made him feel very naughty!

Soft carpet met his stockinged feet and he pushed the window closed behind him, then listened. He waited for heavy footfalls, for an alarm, for any sure sign that the Major was coming to kill him! But he heard nothing. The house was deathly silent. He smiled to himself, stifled a laugh. This was going to be so easy! Perhaps he'd find the Major's safe while he was there... get some cash or jewels as well as the Pumpkin! But he knew he couldn't risk it. If he missed his chance to steal The Man In Purple because he got greedy, he'd never forgive himself. Only one thing could buy Lord Gloria's love and it didn't have the Queen's face on it.

James's eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark. Very little moonlight spilled into the room. A huge mass that was probably a bed sat to his left, something chair-like to his right. He took a step. The floor creaked. He listened. Nothing. Another step, another creak, nothing. His confidence rose with every baby step. He could definitely do this. Another step. This was going to be easy! Another creak. The Man In Purple would be in Lord Gloria's arms by morning! Another step. And Lord Gloria in his. Another click. He stopped...

"Click?"

"Looking for something?" came a deep, familiar voice from the direction of the bed-like mass. James's heart sunk to his feet, his stomach rose to his throat, and it suddenly occurred to him that maybe the guest bedroom had not been a guestroom after all.

A lamp clicked on. James froze, an accountant in the headlights. In the bed-like mass that was, in fact, a bed, sat the Major. He leaned against the headboard, shirtless, blankets pulled up to his waist, Magnum aimed with unwavering accuracy at James's forehead. He could practically feel the bullet already.

James tried to say something, to cry, to scream, to beg! But when he opened his mouth nothing came out but a pitiful squeak.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" The Major asked, looking smug and a little more pleased than James felt a man being burgled ought to look. "You're the dirty little mouse sneaking into my home, I'm the one who should be frightened, not you."

"M-M-Major... good evening!"

"Where's your worthless employer? Bringing up the rear? Sending you in to get shot first to save his own skin?"

James frowned. No one talked about the Earl that way! He went from being frozen stiff to lecture mode in an instant, one hand on his hip, one finger wagging at Klaus as if he were a petulant child who had just said a naughty word.

"Now see here, Major! I came on my own! And Lord Gloria would never sacrifice me like that! I'm far too important to him."

"Why, because you know where all the loot is hidden?"

James looked offended. "No! Well... yes. But that's not the only reason! He also loves-"

"ALRIGHT!" Klaus shouted, clearly finished with the conversation. "I don't care about you or that pervert or whatever feelings you may have. Just get the fuck out. I won't call the police if you're gone in the next 3 seconds."

James nearly protested at the mention of the police, then realized the Major was giving him a chance to escape!

"One."

He started toward the bedroom door.

"NOT THAT WAY, YOU IDIOT! Back the way you came!... Two."

James turned on his heel. But what about The Man In Purple? What about the Earl!? He'd never really love him without the Pumpkin!

"Three."

James stopped. He had to have the Pumpkin! He simply had to! He could brave bullets! He loved Dorian that much. Without another though he dropped to the floor, covered his head and waited. Seconds passed. Curiously, Klaus neither called the police nor shot him. He didn't even rush over to beat the stuffing out of him. James raised his head and slowly peeked out with one eye.

"Scheisse," Klaus said with no little annoyance, and James watched as the Major climbed out of bed, set aside his Magnum, and carefully wrapped a sheet around his waist. Funny, he thought, he had never figured the Major for sleeping in the altogether.

Klaus stomped over to where James huddled on the floor, bare feet ominously slapping hardwood planks. He was grumbling, a low, ceaseless growl of what James was certain was a long string of German curse words.

"Nonononono!" James pleaded as the Major grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, he hung helpless like a kitten in its mother's grasp. "Please don't kill me, Major! I'm too cute to die!!!"

Klaus shook him. "Shut up! SHUT IT RIGHT NOW! Just get out! I'm trying to sleep and you're not worth the trouble of killing you or calling the police!" He opened the window and all but flung James toward it.

James suddenly saw the open blackness of the night outside coming closer and fast. It was a long way down. He wasn't sure he'd survive! All the money of his life flashed before his eyes! His arms and legs shot out without thinking and he caught himself on the window frame. The Major pushed him forward, James pushed backward against the Major.

"Major, you can't kill me! I'm a civillian and an Englishman!"

Klaus grunted with the effort, putting his shoulder into the task of getting the stingy bug out the window. "'m not gonna kill you... just push you out the window... 'm not responsible for gravity..."

"Major, please!!" James pleaded again, "just-- just give me a minute to talk... then I'll leave, I swear!"

"I'm not paying you anything!"

"I DON'T WANT YOUR MONEY!" As soon as the words left his mouth Klaus backed off and James (no longer held up by the Major's force) fell to the floor in a heap. It was a good thing the Major let off when he did, James had shocked even himself when he'd said those last words! He might have willingly thrown himself out the window!

Klaus stood back, tapping his foot impatiently. "All right you little bastard. Tell me what you want so I can not give it to you and you can get the fuck out!"

With some effort James finally righted himself and turned to the Major, then quickly threw his hands to his face, and promptly turned beet red!

"Major!"

"What?!"

"Your sheet!"

James couldn't see the Major through the hands held tight to his face, but the ensuing "fuck" followed by embarrassed silence and the rustle of a sheet being snatched from the floor and wrestled back in place spoke volumes.

"Now tell me what you want!" The Major bellowed again, clearly trying to re-assert his rank in the scheme of things, and James braved a peek between fingers. The Major was a lovely shade of red and really rather frighteningly cute in his sheet-skirt. He looked a little ridiculous, fuming and embarrassed, his free hand in a fist, and the comedy of it gave James courage. He stood on shaky legs.

"Well, Major... the truth of it is... I came for The Man In Purple."

Klaus rolled his eyes, threw his arms up in defeat, then scrambled to catch the falling sheet. "Of course you did! Every goddamn foppish Englishman in the free world wants that fucking painting. It's a curse!"

"No, Major!" James clarified, "I don't want it for myself! I don't really care for it. He looks too much like-- er, well, I prefer blondes." He tried an innocent smile. "But the Earl loves it so, and well... I had hoped to... as a surprise, you know... and-"

"Absolutely not. No fucking way. Get the hell out." Klaus started toward James as if to push him toward the window again.

"Wait, wait, wait, Major!" James squealed and to his surprise Klaus did. "Could I... that is... I mean, I know you won't just give me The Man In Purple, and I wouldn't want you to! I want to steal it fair and square!"

"Oh, of course!"

"But if there was something... I mean, if I could take back something to Lord Gloria... something to prove that I'd at least made it in..."

Klaus stared at James like he'd grown a third head. "You're asking-- you want me to assist you in wooing your faggot employer by cooperating in some perverse thief's mating ritual?"

"Well... something like that, yes."

"Get the fuck out."

James dropped to his knees, clutched at Klaus's sheet. "Oh PLEEEASE, Major! Oh please, oh please, oh please, ANYTHING!"

Klaus clung to the sheet with desperation and anger, trying to kick the man away from him. "Let go of me you pervert! Pathetic little tight-fisted asshole! Get your dirty money-grubbing hands OFF OF ME!" But Klaus struggled in vain. The little man would not be shaken off or kicked away and Klaus's fists were wholly ineffective in beating him off. Klaus was learning what every banker and shopkeeper and Casio dealer in England and most of Europe knew, that there was no prying anything from James's hands if it was something he really wanted.

"Oh ALL RIGHT!" Klaus shouted at last, "I’ll give you something! But you must let go and promise to leave immediately after!"

James stopped struggling, smiled broadly up at the Major, and dutifully released him, nodding his head in emphatic agreement.

Klaus seemed to be resisting the urge to pound the smile off the man's face, then adjusted his sheet again for maximum respectability, and walked over to a dressing table across the room. He brought back something small and shiny and dropped in James's eager hand.

James slowly opened his tight little fist and stared at the thing there. It gleamed in polished gold and on one flat surface were etched the elegantly conservative letters "vdE".

"A cufflink?" James asked, looking a little disappointed.

Klaus frowned. "Yes. A cufflink! What's wrong with that?"

"Well... I mean... only one?"

"Look, you stingy bastard, I only have the one because Eroica has already stolen the other. Now he can have a matching stolen set!"

"Oh..." James said, and thought for a moment. "Oh! Well that's perfect, Major, thank you!"

"You're not fucking welcome! Now get out before I decide you are worth the trouble of killing!"

James stood, brushed himself off. He was feeling rather good, really. The cufflink burned with promise in his hand. "You know, you're really not so bad, Major. Quite kind of you to help a chappie out." He bowed extravagantly, spreading his cape to complete the effect and smiled brilliantly at Klaus who looked positively murderous. He headed toward the window, looked out at the limb and wondered how he should best get back out onto it. He didn't have to wonder long. Klaus pushed from behind and James flew out the window, narrowly missing the limb. He was certain he would plummet to his death! But his cape caught on the branch and he swung there, saved.

"I knew you wouldn't die!" Klaus shouted from the window. "Insects are too hard to kill!"

James smiled up at him, waving the cufflink proudly. "You are so helpful, Major! I'm starting to see why Lord Gloria loves you so--" but the rest of the sentence was cut off the creak of a limb, and then a snap. Luckily the ground wasn't too far.

James sat up from the ground beneath Klaus's bedroom window, feeling a little sore but oddly triumphant. He could hear Klaus cursing above him, a window slamming shut, locks shoved home. The cufflink glinted in the moonlight. It wasn't The Man In Purple but it was at least a token of his effort. Lord Gloria could appreciate that, he hoped.... Plus it was worth at least 50 pounds!

With love and thievery warming his cold, greedy heart, James picked himself up off the ground, eager to get back to England and give the Earl his tiny token of affection. As he walked, disappearing into the blackness of night, he touched his sore nose and winced. But it wasn't broken. And, for a while at least, neither was his heart.
________________

"Goddamn idiot accountant moron...." Klaus's curses were finally winding down now that the little thief was out of sight. Thief. Hah! The bastard could hardly be called that. It was a discredit to thieves everywhere!

He padded back over to the bedside and sat down. He needed a cigarette before he could rest again, so he picked up his pack from the bedside table and lit one.

Something made a thumping noise, and then a rustle.

"Has he gone, then?" a voice asked as its owner shimmied from beneath the bed.

"Ja," Klaus said and offered a drag to Dorian when the blond sat down beside him, shamelessly naked and a little dusty from being under the bed. Dorian declined the cigarette.

"I am sorry, darling," Dorian said, looking a little distraught. "Really I had nothing to do with this!"

"I gathered that much," Klaus said between drags.

"I knew he cared for me but I never expected this."

"He's an idiot in love. Just like you."

Dorian smiled, took Klaus's arm and leaned in closer. "That's an awfully romantic notion, Klaus. I must be rubbing off on you."

"Ja. You did." Klaus replied with a smirk.

"Oh! Naughty German!... But really. I feel rather bad. Poor dear. I shall have to pick him up some day-old bananas on my way back." He smoothed Klaus's hair. "Thank you for not roughing him up or anything very brutal."

"I want my cufflinks back," Klaus said, ignoring the attention the blond was giving him, "both of them."

Dorian looked defensive. "Now you know I didn't steal that first one! I only picked it up by mistake the last time I was here!"

Klaus snorted.

"But while we're on the subject..." Dorian said slyly, sliding an arm around the other man's neck, "of who owes whom what..." a slim hand worked its way beneath Klaus's sheet.

"Pervert," Klaus said, though it was more of a compliment than an accusation.

Dorian smiled. "I do my best, darling."


Wonderful illustration by Singformebaby!

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