NATO didn't care -- their world of black and white made such things clear to those loyal amongst their agents. Klaus never questioned the order to shoot one of his own men down like a rabid dog. Eight months -- what if Klaus had had the same done to him? What if he'd been shot down into a gutter in Prague, just like Agent W was?

But since it was the fabled Iron Klaus, NATO had done the man's record a kindness, by closing it with only the 'presumed dead' stamp. Eight months was a long time for an agent of Klaus von dem Eberbach's loyalty to not return. If he was alive, it was obvious that, as one of their best agents, he would have returned.

He would never turn on his beloved NATO. The organization was his life, his existence and the whole of his being -- without NATO, the Major was nothing but an unhappy aristocrat.

So, he was dead.

Dorian almost wished that he hadn't always kept such a close watch on the Bonn office. Now most of the things Agent A told him were about the new Major, Klaus' replacement. How he was horrible, and how all of the alphabets wanted Klaus back. They missed his temper tantrums, and his efficiency -- they missed the way he kept them running as a tight unit, and how a mission was never botched. NATO had tried to contract Dorian twice since Klaus' disappearance, and he'd actually worked with the new Major once.

And swore to himself to never take another job. The man was so... impersonal, cold and aloof -- he didn't care what risk Dorian and his team were put at when they broke into the museum in Budapest. He didn't bother to coordinate the two sides together, so Dorian had nearly been arrested in his escape.

For all of his callous and hateful words, Klaus had always made sure that Dorian got out unharmed.

After that Mission with Klaus's militant replacement, Dorian had finally given into mourning over his beloved Major -- twenty years of pursuit, and the man had died, leaving Dorian with so many unanswered questions. Had the Major ever cared for him, in his own stoic way? Had Dorian ever been close to wearing down his personal walls of defense?

"M'lord...?" Bonham's head peeked through the door of Dorian's exquisitely decorated suite. Sweet God, he was listening to Wagner again. And the Man In Purple hung on the wall he was facing. Another of those moods, unshakably painful things that swallowed Dorian for days at a time, before he seemed to shake it off, pull a quick heist, then sink back in. He himself missed the days of Dorian's joviality, the ways he used to rush through the household and bring a mood of light cheer with him.

But for two months now, since Klaus had been declared dead, he hadn't been the same man. Oh, he dressed the same, tried to act the same -- but the glisten in bright blue eyes was gone, the spark of life in his gaze. The taste for excitement. And with the Earl's falling mood, the rest of the staff, too, fell silent and unhappy. James couldn't even get too excited about money anymore; Peters hadn't pestered the people at Sotheby's for weeks; Jones had nearly given up in his forgery work.

Bonham hoped desperately that the phone call that had come would lift Dorian's mood. He turned down the volume of the Earl's expensive stereo system, and looked pointedly at his melancholy friend and Lord. "M'lord, there's a call for you -- from Germany. It's the NATO chief of the Bonn office. You'll want to take this call."

"Will I?" Dorian murmured, looking over at Bonham. "Well, I suppose since it isn't the *Major*, dreadful man, I could take it this one time. He wandered over to the small rococo writing desk against the far wall of the room and picked up the telephone. "Yes, Mr. Chief - this is the Earl of Gloria speaking. To what do I owe this honor?"

"Tell me, Eroica, if you would be willing to head to Heathrow airport to meet a flight coming in at nine pm? I have a mission for you, and NATO will compensate you for your trouble, if you wish."

Dorian sighed and looked out the window, across the rain swept lawns. For once the english weather seemed to match his mood. "I'm not much in the mood for stealing things at the moment," he said with an air of disinterest. "Can't you find another thief?"

"Can I find another thief that would want what's arriving in Heathrow at nine? I doubt I could, Eroica. A week ago, we located Major Eberbach; he is not yet fit for duty, and I cannot spare an agent to keep an eye on him while he recovers." The Chief delivered those words so calmly, but they were a terribly shocking blow, after he'd thought the major was so very dead!

"Klaus?" Dorian said in a dazed voice. "He's alive??" A whirl of images and conversations went through the art thief's head - the beautiful German man and his absolute disgust of Dorian. What a cat-and-mouse game they'd played over the years...

In a moment, his mind was made up. "Give me the information."

Over the next three minutes, the chief gave him every piece of information he needed and didn't need to know. First, the flight number, and how he was traveling -- first class. That if he didn't get off of the plane, to ask the attendants where he'd gone to, or if he'd gotten off of the plane yet. "He will need a near constant watch. The Russians decided to try street drugs on him to make him addicted in the hopes he'd talk when withdrawing."

There was a pride in the man's voice that said Klaus hadn't talked, even with that plan. "He is on a regime of Methadone for eight more weeks."

"The *bastards*," Dorian muttered. Even with the bad blood that had flowed between the two men, the Earl would never wish drug withdrawal on anyone. It was worse that it had been served upon a strong and noble man, as dedicated to his career as was Klaus. Dorian mused as well that it would no doubt make the Major's hot temper at least ten times worse.

"Right, I'll be there. Will your men be there and will they know me?"

"The Major is traveling unaccompanied, and was last told that you will probably be the one there to meet him." Because, given the choice of Dorian or that damned Agent Lawrence, Dorian was the better of two evils for Klaus!

"I'll bet he *adored* that news," Dorian purred, a bit of his old playfulness coming back even then. "Well, count on me - I'll be waiting at 9 o'clock."

"Thank you -- you are doing NATO a great service, Lord Gloria," the Chief told him, and then seconds later, rang off.

"M'lord...?" Bonham was still there, lingering in the doorway. The Chief had told him to make sure that Dorian at least listened, and now, from the light tone of Dorian's voice, he knew it had to be good. "What is it?"

"It appears," Dorian said, "that our dear Major is still alive. He's in poor condition and has to be nurtured back to health before returning to NATO." He fairly twirled around to face Bonham and gave the man a wink. "Guess who gets to play nursemaid?"

"'e's going to let you, m'lord?" Bohnam chuckled, both eyebrows creeping up beneath his bangs. Good news, all around -- maybe now that the Major wasn't dead, the Earl's mood would improve...? "I'll have Jones make up the guest room right away, sir!"

Dorian smiled, gazing up at the painting that had led to his meeting the Major. "Better remove anything that's breakable," he told the retreating Bonham. "He may be grumpy..."

It was an understatement of the man that was to be met at the airport, but Dorian didn't care -- how his heart had lifted with just the knowledge that Klaus was alive!

He remembered posing as an art appraiser to get into Schloss Eberbach, and how he'd been struck dumb by the beauty of the man who owned that painting. And how, if only minutely, Klaus had softened over the years. No, just eroded a little. Stone *never* softened unless there was something wrong with it, but it could be polished, smoothed out and buffed.

God, and Klaus was alive! That thought kept Dorian afloat even as he got into his expensive Lamborghini, sliding into the back. Bohnam was driving, and thankfully they'd gotten out of there before James could notice why, and start to go on about how much gas would cost to drive there.

It seemed like a glorious adventure until they reached the dullness of the airport, and settled in to wait for the Lufthansa flight to arrive.

"When he arrives, M'lord, do you want me to go pick up his bags for him...?" Bonham asked, shifting a little in the hard plastic chair he sat in -- there was so much wealth walking by, pretty necklaces and glittering broaches!

"Yes, that would be most helpful, Bonham. The faster we get out of *this* place, the better." He slid a glance over at his servant. "And no pilfering anything today," he added with a wink. "We don't want *any* extra attention."

"Can Jones, Peters and I pull a heist or two while you're... occupied, M'lord?" Bohnam asked, looking up to the tall blonde man, just as the arrival of flight 560 was announced.

Dorian stood and stretched languorously. "Yes, I suppose. It will keep you from getting rusty..." /And keep you out of the way while I'm with my gorgeous Major!/ "Perhaps you could take James with you as well," he added with a demure smile.

The doors to the jet way opened just then and he sent Bonham off to fetch Klaus's bags while he waited breathlessly for the arrival of the NATO officer.

It was... a wait. Klaus was not the first off, or the second -- nor, the third. In fact, by the time he did come out, Dorian was probably seriously considering asking someone if he was even on it.

And it was almost hard to recognize him as he did step off the plane. Klaus had a carry-on slung over his shoulder, a cigarette between his lips, other hand already reaching for his lighter so he could light it the first chance he had. He was wearing a suit -- what looked like a new suit for him, in a slightly different shade of grey than the usual one -- his hair was still the same... But the walk had changed. The Major didn't charge down the jet way, so much as he seemed to struggle with the effort of one step in front of another, each step one of pure concentration. His already lean form had lost so much weight that he looked far too thin in his suit. And grey-green eyes held a flat, glazed look, the iris almost gone to nothing.

When Klaus looked up as he passed out of the metal detector, trembling fingers clicking his lighter on to light his cigarette, his eyes caught Dorian's in clear contact. And his expression didn't change instantly to one of disgust or distaste.

"Oh my," Dorian murmured to himself, "this really *is* bad..."

He stepped forward gamely, however, and gave the German what he thought might be a non-threatening smile. "Welcome to Britain, Major Eberbach."

The tip of the cigarette lit, and Klaus drew a quick drag off of it before he spoke, pocketing his lighter again. "Let us just get out of here, Lord Gloria." And his voice -- it had changed, too. Rougher than before, quieter as if he couldn't catch his breath enough to put force behind it. "I have one bag that I need to get."

"It will be waiting at my car," Dorian told him as they turned to go. "I know it might not mean much to you, but I was very happy to find out that you were still alive."

"I am alive?" that rough-edged voice asked in a hollow, bitter way, as he walked beside Dorian, long legs carrying him forward without purpose. Then the Major's strange gaze flicked over to Dorian's face for a moment. "When I was... there... I thought that you, at least, might care. Out of everyone. I am glad to know that I was not wrong."

"Of course you weren't wrong, dear man," the Earl said smoothly, softly. "I've been in an absolute slough of despond since your colleagues at NATO told me you were missing." Giving the major a coy, sideways glance he added, "Didn't even have the urge to pull off a decent heist..."

"Good." The edge of Klaus' mouth twitched upwards for a split second, making his too-thin face look pained rather than pleased to even a slight degree. "I will not make you watch me as I recover Lord Gloria; If you wish, I could easily find a hotel and stay there until they let me return to duty..." Unlikely, but he at least wanted to make the offer so that there would be a chance that Dorian wouldn't observe much of his humiliating state. He wasn't sure for how much longer he could continue walking. "You aren't parked far, are you?"

"No, I'm not - Bonham is just there at the curb, you see?" He held Klaus's sleeve, stopping him, and turned to look him full in the face. "And I wouldn't sleep at night knowing you were on your own after what you've been through. You are staying with me," he said firmly. "But of course, you may have as much privacy on my estate as you need, given that you are getting better, of course."

He opened the door for the other man and said in a cheerful voice, "Home, Bonham!"

"Right, M'lord!" The servant said in a fairly cheerful voice, as Klaus slid into the seat, up to the other side's window, and then Dorian in beside him.

"This isn't an inconvenience to you, is it, Lord Gloria?" Klaus asked in a tired voice as settled in place, curling a little as he sat to relieve the discomfort of aching limbs.

"Well, I suppose having a gorgeous man hanging around the house *is* a bit of a bother, but you know me - I always manage somehow..." He trailed off and smiled to himself, gazing at the traffic awaiting them on the M4. "I've just had the guest bath renovated - much to James' dismay - and the whirlpool bath in it will do you wonders, I'm sure..." He gave the major another look and murmured, "And I'm *still* a very good back scrubber, should you ever need one."

"We will see." Something shocking to hear from Klaus -- no swinging fists? No shouted words at such blatant innuendo? Klaus was looking at him again, as if contemplating what he would next say. The, he turned back to looking at nothing, and let his head fall over the back of the seat restlessly. Other times, Dorian would have been more than happy to see the long line of Klaus' neck displayed, but now it looked bony, too thin and easily breakable. "Do you have water in the car?"

"Mmm - Bonham? Open the glove box and hand me that bottle of spring water, will you?" Then he turned back to Klaus, handing him the bottle. "Have much of an appetite yet?"

"None." He took the bottle when Dorian handed it to him, and put it on his lap as he unzipped the carry on bag to remove a prescription bottle with shaking fingers. Finger that couldn't fidget loose the tamper-proof cap. Frustrated, Klaus slumped back once more, eyes squeezing shut. "Shit. Lord Gloria, could you open this...?"

Dorian took the bottle silently, but with a sympathetic expression on his face, looking at the other man. /So proud and beautiful - it must be very difficult for him this way. First thing to do will be find out ways he can do for himself.../

Uncapping the bottle, he handed Klaus the medicine and turned a blind eye while the Major took his dose. "Don't worry, dear man - together we'll reverse every effect those bastards had on you."

"Can't reverse track marks," Klaus said bluntly, almost sharply, tossing back two of the pills, and drinking most of the bottle of water. "But thank you." For the sentiment, at least.

"Battle scars are something I find highly attractive, Major - no matter what form they take. The rose gardens are in first bloom, you know. Will you be up for a walk at all today, or do you want to keep your own company?"

If he said the latter, then Dorian would *know* the state he was in. And if the former.... he would have to do some strenuous acting to seem half as alive as a *walk* would require of him. But perhaps the facade would be worth trying.

"I could try a walk," he answered the Earl, looking over to the man with eyes that were starting to slowly focus again, the pupils starting to return to normal.

Dorian smiled at him. "It wouldn't have to be long, but there is a gazebo in the garden where you could sit and take the air. A little sun might do you good. Speed your healing, perhaps." /But what will heal your spirit, you poor man? What indeed?/

"If you think it would, then there is no real reason to not try it," Klaus sighed, closing his eyes, Slowly, so very slowly, that shaking was stopping. All Klaus wanted then was to be better, and back on duty. There were other things, of course, but they wouldn't fit into words in a proper way, so they were left untouched. All during the trip down the motorway, Dorian watched Klaus out of the corner of his eye. The feelings he'd been having - of missing the man, wanting to drag him back to life just so they could argue with each other again, of wanting so much more and despairing of ever getting it - all of those feelings were flooding over him, their intensity doubled by the loss he'd felt and the regaining, too. /I know I'm less of a person without you,/ he thought as his eyelids grew heavy, /but do you need me at all?/

He fell asleep before he found an answer.

Klaus watched that almost angelic slumber for at least another five miles, his drifting, restless gaze finally focusing -- but Bonham couldn't tell if it was on Dorian's hair, or his face. But once Klaus, too, fell asleep, the servant and thief was sure to drive carefully, hitting as few bumps on the road as he could manage.

Both men slept well, all the way to the manor, and Bonham couldn't help a satisfied smirk to himself as he looked at them both in the rear-view mirror. Klaus had slipped over in his sleep, head fallen down to rest on the edge of Dorian's shoulder.

Blue eyes fluttered open, befuddled for only a moment, but Dorian didn't move a muscle. He could feel Klaus, heavy and warm against him and for a moment just sat there, smiling like the proverbial cat. /Will you be my canary, I wonder, dear Major?/ he thought before moving to sit up and prop the German man upright as well. He handled him as delicately as if he'd been a safecracking job, and Klaus was none the wiser when his eyes finally opened.

"We're here, Major," the thief said softly. "Let me show you to your room - Bonham, the Major's bags, please."

"Yes, M'lord," Bonham said, opening the trunk first, then taking the carry on bag from Klaus as the man stood up slowly, stretching in a careful manner. "Don't worry, Major -- the bags will be put right in your room."

"Can I assume that my room is conveniently close to your own, Lord Gloria?" Klaus asked, leaning one hand heavily against the body of the car as he looked at the tall blonde over the roof of the vehicle.

"Yes, you may," Dorian said with a flutter of eyelashes. "But there *is* a good, sturdy lock on your door, if you should fear I might lose control some night and come in to molest you." He gave the tall man a wink and said, "This way!"

The secluded country manor was something Klaus could appreciate in that moment -- at least there was no-one to see him following the art thief into the house. And no-one to see the way he walked, every step and effort of getting his muscles to move. It was better than it had been a week ago; then he couldn't even bullshit being all right. Now he at least had that advantage in his hand.

Though what good it would do him there, he had no idea. "I am hoping to recover and be gone quickly, Lord Gloria."

A faint pang of sadness went through the art thief, but he stood at the door, waiting for Klaus and smiling. "Of course, of course," he said as the man drew level with him. "I wouldn't dream of detaining you for one moment longer than necessary. Would you like some help up the stairs?" /Please say yes - I'm dying to slip my arm through yours.../

"Up... stairs?" Klaus looked up those winding steps, elegant in a way that he expected of an estate Dorian owned. But they were elegant and threatening to his ability to move -- if he fell...

"Yes; I would... appreciate the help, Lord Gloria." Words he nearly had to drag out of his own mouth, hard to say.

"I'm at your elbow, dear man," Dorian murmured, and began to lead the Major slowly up the staircase.

"Thank you." It was stiffly said, as he walked up the stairs -- one hand he kept on the railing, letting Dorian guide him with the other. It was obviously draining on him, and the major nearly stumbled before he reached the top step, staying on his feet only because he was twice supported.

/*Gracious* he's being polite,/ Dorian thought, /so unlike him, poor thing. I'm sure he just wants to come out and insult me and can't bring himself to do it.../

"Here we are," he said, stopping in front of an ornate door - painted antique white with gold filigree around it. It opened onto a large bedroom furnished with large pieces of Biedermeier furniture. The bed was enormous, of dark wood with creamy bed curtains all around it. There was also a large, overstuffed armchair next to a shelf of books, a window with a sweeping view of the grounds, and a bathroom with an sunken tub. On the walls, of course, were exquisite paintings - mostly court and hunting scenes.

"What do you think," Dorian asked, "can you be comfortable here?"

Still leaning on him a little, Klaus made a sound that was definitely one of relief. "I was expecting nude pictures of men and flowers everywhere," he told the Earl truthfully, looking at him from the corner of his eyes. "This was unexpected -- but appreciated, Lord Gloria."

"We aim to please," Dorian purred, letting Klaus move into the room ahead of him. Would you like to rest a bit before taking that walk?"

Klaus was silent for a moment, before he moved towards the bed and sat down on the edge of it, loosening his tie. "Don't leave me alone in here for too long, Lord Gloria."

That surprised the Earl, golden blond eyebrows drawing up quizzically. But he said nothing, almost afraid to push the point. "Half an hour, then?" he said, and gracefully turned, shutting the door quietly behind him. /Strange,/ he thought as he walked down the hall, /six months ago I would have loved to hear that from him... but now.../

Now, it was simply disturbing.

Once the door had closed, Klaus fell back onto the mattress, eyes closing tightly as he finally gave in to the weakness that had been eating at his body. No-one was watching, he was safely alone for at least half an hour.

/I could kill myself this moment. Take all of my methadone, and just die. And who would care at all? No-one but Lord Gloria. Eroica. Dorian. Which one is truly him? The noble Britain, that fucking fag thief or... this other person I'm seeing just now?/ Not the sort of thoughts he wanted to think, but he knew he was at the man's mercy.

And over the years, he'd given Eroica so many reasons to turn against him -- though it seemed against the man's very nature. But Klaus was a paranoid man, and with his nerves frayed from the last months of his existence...

Klaus still could hardly believe that his father had turned him away. The old man had instantly recognized the look of a druggie, even a recovering one, and refused to let him into the house. Told him he could sleep on the grounds, if he wanted, but not inside the house. It had been the only time Klaus could remember begging for anything, sitting on the back stoop of Schloss Eberbach and at first pleading, then demanding to be let in.

It had ended with him gathering together his wits again, and calling A to pick him up. It proved to him that he was nothing beyond NATO -- not even to his own family, which had hidden more than their own share of dirty sins and secrets behind the high walls of Schloss Eberbach. So NATO it had been, and his trust in them had led him here. Because they didn't want any part of him, either, until he was clean again.

Clean and well, able to pass a physical, the physical standards of his rank and age, and prove that his ability to concentrate had returned.

Worse than just a NATO pet -- not even that. A tool, that wouldn't be touched until it was repaired. Iron Klaus was just a body, fuelled by an anger that served it's purpose well. The man behind that persona didn't even have to exist any longer...

Introspection didn't suit Klaus, though he drifted away into a light doze with fifteen minutes to go before Dorian would come back for him. A short, restful nap, before he agreed to a walk.

In his own room, Dorian stared into the mirror over his dressing table. The years had been kind to him - a blessing of good genes on his mother's side - and he looked barely 30, even though he was now in his 40s. /In my 40s, and still alone.../

The thought was unwelcome and he brushed it aside and rose slowly, moving to his closet to find something sensible enough for a walk around his grounds. He chose slim fitting jeans and a soft, white poet's shirt - one of the simplest he owned so as not to insult the Major's plain taste. After the man got used to being at the castle, he could always go back to dressing more flamboyantly. When he'd dressed, he stood at the mirror again, brushing long, wavy hair the colour of honey into a loose tail and tying it with a simple, dark blue kerchief, low on his neck.

Ten minutes later he was at Klaus's door, precisely on time.

"Major? Are you still up for that walk?"

"Hold on a moment, Lord Gloria..." Klaus' voice was thick with sleep, and Dorian must have waited at the door for another five minutes, before the major opened the door from his side. The man looked different again! No poorly fitted suit. Instead, he wore a pair of slim, neat trousers and a thick, comfortable looking shirt out of some type of linen-cotton mixture that just screamed both 'expensive' and 'snuggle wear'. Not that Klaus was a snuggling person; he still looked like he was going to go falling off of his feet at any moment. "Ja, I would like a walk."

/Even strung out on Methadone, he's still beautiful.../ Dorian smiled at him and led the way down the stairs, keeping a hand close to the trembling elbow, but not touching unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Let's start with the roses, shall we?" he said cheerfully. "Do you have a favourite kind of rose?"

"Anything that you haven't delivered to my office...?" Klaus uttered, half joking and half not. It seemed a strained joke, but he was trying at good humour even in the face of a frustrating lack of... everything he was accustomed to.

"Oh, heavens," Dorian said, laughing, "I've hardly scratched the botanical surface in that respect. Given that criterion, I'm sure you will find many blooms to please you, Major."

They stepped through a pair of French doors, out onto a flagstone terrace and down a short flight of steps to the garden itself. There was an ornate wooden bench at the end of the main row. "Let's aim for that," the Earl said, "and I can point out a few of my favourites on the way."

"That would be fine, Lord Gloria." Klaus looked tired already, but half-glad to be doing anything at all. If he kept pushing himself forward, he'd soon overcome his physical state, wouldn't he? Perhaps... "Lord Gloria, may I ask a favour of your men?"

Dorian gave him a sideways glance. "And that would be...?"

"Have your men rifle through my bags. I want them to remove all of my medications, pain or otherwise. Throw them out."

The only sign that Dorian thought this to be a somewhat outlandish statement was a subtle widening of deep blue eyes. "Pardon my impertinence, Major, but... is there a reason you want no medication?"

"The Methadone is as addictive as Heroin," Klaus said in a flat tone, still walking forwards, towards that bench. As long as he didn't stop the slow, steady pace... "A day from now, I'll go into withdrawal; If I can outlast that, then I'll be rid of that problem."

"Yes, that's true," Dorian said, walking steadily beside him, "but withdrawal can be a hideous process. Are you sure you would not prefer to use the methadone and taper it off?"

He proposed the idea, though the thief already knew what answer would be.

"Lord Gloria, I have been trying to taper off cigarettes for four years now." Flatly said, but Klaus looked over to him with a tired gaze -- he knew that the taper off method wouldn't work. Maybe for others, but not him. Not Iron Klaus. "I would appreciate if... someone would keep a watch over me when I withdraw. I have seen others go through it, and can only imagine what I would be capable of."

They had reached the bench and Dorian helped the tired man to sit down, taking the seat next to him. "I will watch over you myself, Major. It would be an honour to help that much."

Dorian... had the strength, though it didn't seem so, to overpower him if it came to it, Klaus considered. "While I still have my wits, Lord Gloria, I want you to feel free to hit me if it seems necessary."

Dorian hid his smile and the matter-of-fact way the suggestion was put. "Thank you. I'll try to keep that to a minimum, though. "I thought later you might enjoy seeing the library, or the music room. Do you have a taste for any of the arts, Major?"

He leaned a little on the bench, looking at Dorian carefully. "I enjoy Classical Music, Lord Gloria -- something I think that you, too, would enjoy..." /Given your name./

"You would be right," the Earl acknowledged. "Do you have a favourite composer?"

"Wagner." The answer was given so quickly that it couldn't have been pre-thought out. Which startled Klaus a little, because when being diplomatic with The Earl of Gloria, he tried hard to think first, then say something. Now, though, that skill seemed to be failing him. "Would I guess wrong to say you have a soft spot for Beethoven?"

Dorian laughed. "No, Major - you would not be wrong. I suppose it's *completely* obvious, eh?"

"The Eroica is the third symphony, isn't it?" Klaus had a tired sort of interest in his eyes towards the conversation, and truly felt a draw into it -- for the first time in nearly a year, he felt relaxed. At peace, and so very un-burdened.

"Indeed," Dorian said, smile growing wider. "But of course a man like yourself would have no use for that particular composer. His works would be a bit... *soft* for you, yes?"

The smile that curled Klaus' lips was almost bitter, for a moment, then that faded from the expression, leaving just the tiredness. "I listen to more than you would suspect me to listen to, Lord Gloria. As much as I love cannonade and Wagner, there are days when I can appreciate softer music. I can listen to nearly anything, other than American hip-hop. They whine far too much, those Americans."

"I've never been terribly fond of Yank music myself. You Germans are good enough for me." He gave the Major a wink.

"No taste for English music at all?" Klaus asked with a curious smile.

"Oh yes, yes indeed," Dorian said. "Holst in particular and, in the right mood, Delius."

"I think, that I will always prefer German classical," Klaus chuckled softly, once he'd heard what English composers Dorian liked. "For familiarity's sake." Strange, that -- Klaus didn't seem a man to hold any sentimentality at all about him. "Nn. I could fall asleep right here, Lord Gloria. Your gardens are very peaceful."

"That's the way a proper garden should be," the Earl countered, "a haven from the outside world. I come here often after I return from my travels. It always... puts me back into the right frame of mind."

"I usually inspect my munitions collection when I wish to relax..." But he couldn't even get in the house to do that, let alone take any of it with him!

"Why am I not surprised," Dorian said. "Well, shall we walk back to the house? I have a fine library - you can choose some books..."

Klaus protest was too quick to be anything but suspicious. "No. Let's just remain here for a while longer..." /Because I'm exhausted, and you haven't even noticed. Perfect./

"Oh, of course," Dorian said. "I just thought you might be getting tired..." he gave the count a little smile. "But I see you are hardier than I imagined. How foolish of me to underestimate you..." So saying, the blond man settled back on the bench. "May I ask what your plans are when you leave?" he said mildly.

"When I leave your... gracious care?" Klaus re-stated. "To return to duty as soon as I can. I have been out of the loop for far too long."

"I believe you are the type of man for whom duty is a pleasure," Dorian mused, "but I warn you that I *will* feel compelled to try and highlight life's *other* pleasures while you are here. I do hope you'll be tolerant of me..."

"If you will do the same for me, how could I be otherwise?" Klaus asked in a low tone of voice, musing. He could feel the muscles in his left calf cramping, and wanted to reach to rub it out before it got too bad, but to do that would make the problem obvious to Lord Gloria, and he didn't want to show undue weakness... Unless he had to. To anyone. "Though, what you consider to be life's 'other's pleasures, I don't know."

"Oh, the simple things," the other said, fairly twinkling. "Elevenses on a rainy morning, the fatal combination of an engrossing book and a roaring fire, good conversation after solitude... and other things as well..."

Klaus snorted, looking away at last. "Even now, you think of such things...?"

"I realize they have no worth in your stern eyes, Major, but I find them valuable beyond words. Still, I will not force them on you. *Nothing* will be forced here, unless your health absolutely requires it."

Klaus fell quiet now -- he'd been trying to keep from getting angry, or getting Dorian on edge. Trying. "I was not speaking of your simple pleasures. Never mind."

"Oh, well," the thief said, still smiling, "I won't force *that* on you either! Not unless you ask me to..."

"Never," Klaus snorted, though it was without malice for once. "I don't know why you don't give up."

"I don't know either," Dorian said, putting a delicate wrist to his head with mock drama. "You're just too perfect, I suppose... and a man *can* dream, can't he?"

"As long as I'm not told about the dreams, yes." Klaus sat up a little more, though still resting. "Should we head in yet...?"

"By all means," Dorian said, hiding bitter disappointment. He knew it would never come to pass, but to be rejected time and time again in so harsh a way was wearing on him.

He got up and led the way back to the house.

~~~~

Klaus von dem Eberbach awoke in a sickly cold sweat, muscles knotting so tightly that it virtually sprang him awake.

And certainly left him laying abed, flat on his back in those high quality sheets, wondering what he was doing. He could run, he knew, but to where...?

And why would it be running? He wasn't a captive -- far from it, given Dorian's good, open handed treatment of him.

Supper had been good, high quality, and the thief's company enjoyable -- the steak as tender as his dinner companion's voice as they spoke of every topic imaginable, except for NATO and stealing.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Major?" Dorian called. "Is everything all right? Do you have everything you need?"

It was half an hour after he'd woken up, and he was grateful for that knock. "Lord Gloria -- your men did a wonderful job of cleaning out my bags. They also took my cigarettes."

"Ah - did you not want those removed?"

Klaus looked up towards the still closed door, from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his very conservative pyjamas. "You can come in, Lord Gloria," he offered to the man, before saying, "I would at least not like to go through two withdrawals at once, when it starts."

Dorian opened the door just a bit and peeked in, blond tail trailing over his shoulders. "Why don't I just run and get them, eh? Be right back!" Then he was gone.

Why had he invited Dorian to come in...? /You want company, and he's being tolerable. He's good company, until he starts to flirt -- and I want someone to talk to, don't' I?/ The answer was of course, yes, so he waited.

A few minutes later another discreet knock sounded and Dorian slipped into the room holding the cigarettes. "I'm sorry they were somewhat... overzealous." He sat in an armchair next to the bed. "They get that way sometimes. Are you sleeping well?"

"I'd like to lie and say yes," Klaus sighed as he took the pack and opened it with unsteady hands.

"Understood," the Earl said softly. "I have to say, though, I very much enjoyed your company at dinner tonight. I've been longing for a good discussion on the European Union. You have some interesting ideas..."

"On par with your opinions of the UN," Klaus said pleasantly. They were wonderful, brilliant ideas that they both had, though probably never to be implemented. Still, it was interesting to learn that Dorian was also a practical dreamer -- and hard to let the thief see that side in himself.

"Can you imagine if we both went into politics?" Dorian laughed and shook his head. "What a commotion *we* would cause!"

"If we were ever elected, we would cause at least one riot in our respective governmental systems." Klaus pulled a lighter from the bed-side drawer and clicked the antique thing on.

"Well, *I* would," Dorian said. "You might not. A very strong, respectable man. You might go far."

"It's not my idea of a good job, though. I might shoot one of my challengers." He allowed himself a little smirk as he lit his smoke, and put it up to his lips, taking a slow drag before he let his gaze drift to the lighter. His father's. The bastard who'd kicked him out of the house.

"You'd probably only do it to someone who deserved it," Dorian noted cheerfully. "Perhaps if there were more... well-thought-out assassinations, governments would run more smoothly!"

"Doubtlessly," Klaus sighed, leaning back against the head-board and pillows as he left out a thin spiral of smoke from his lips. "I'm not keeping you awake, am I, lord Gloria?"

"No, not at all," the thief answered. "By the way, I'd prefer you to call me Dorian... if you would."

"Dorian... yes, that's fine," Klaus decided. "You are not half the idiot you play at being, Dorian."

"Do I play at being an idiot?" he asked, half smiling, half in mock outrage. "Just because I'm blond doesn't mean I'm stupid you know..."

"I know -- yet you seem so half-assed in some missions that I can't tell..." Klaus replied.It wasn't meant to offend at all -- just a statement.

"That's because I try to have fun with what I'm doing and you're just too serious for your own good."

"I don't doubt that. I also know how many lives rest on every mission I go into," Klaus said, taking another slow drag.

Dorian smiled at him and turned to look at the windows. "Yes, it's only my ego that rests on my 'missions.' My ego and my need for beauty. Selfish of me, but - there it is."

"You're doing it again."

Dorian looked over at him - surprised. "Doing what?" he said.

"Pretending to be an empty-headed fag."

"Just because a person loves beautiful things doesn't make him empty-headed *or* a fag," Dorian said in a slightly scolding tone. "Those things are not synonymous with each other."

"And yet you pretend you care about nothing but those pretty things."

The blond-haired man shrugged. "The world doesn't need to know any more than that," he said. "And it makes for good press, I suppose. Why should I let them in on the secret that I have a brain?" He smiled again at Klaus. "Am I keeping *you* up?"

The dark-haired man shook his head. "I can't sleep tonight."

Dorian was on his feet instantly. "Can I get you something? Warm milk, perhaps? Or tea? Music?"

"No -- I've been thinking too much, and that keeps me up. No amount of external care will help. But thank you, Dorian."

"Would you like to talk about these wicked thoughts that have the nerve to keep you awake?" the Earl said, sitting down again, tentatively.

"When I return to duty, the Russians will know that all it will take is one injection, and it will put me back to the point where I am right now." Looking down over the precipice of withdrawal, and wondering if it was worth it.

"Does it remain that way - permanently?" Dorian asked.

"I've no idea -- but I know that... once addicted, I could always be re-addicted quickly."

"Then you'll have to take extra care of yourself," Dorian murmured. "And we have to make sure you come out of here the strongest you can be." He wanted very much to put his arms around the solemn man, but knew it would never be accepted, so he settled for words. "I know your strength, Major. I have complete faith in you."

"I knew you would, Dorian. No one else does." The cigarette between his lips was a great comfort in familiarly -- especially compared to the conversation he was having with the thief that had hounded him for years!

"Surely that's not true," the blond said. "Your colleagues at NATO care for you - and your family, surely."

"NATO only wants me when I'm well." Well, Agent Z cared, and A cared, but that was the extent of it. "And my father... " The smoke left his nose in a snort. "All but disowned me."

"What??" Dorian said, his voice outraged. "Whatever do you mean?" he added, half out of his chair again.

"I won't let me set foot inside Schloss Eberbach itself until I'm completely clean."

Long, delicate fingers balled themselves up into fists on Dorian's lap. "That's *horrible*!" he said, an adorable frown crossing his features. "You should be able to turn to your family no matter what!"

"Only if your problem is a tasteful one, for them," Klaus said bitterly.

"I'm sorry you have had to go through that," Dorian murmured, "on top of all the other things you have to work with. I wish there was something I could do..."

"There isn't." Klaus was sure of it -- the only think that would return him in his father's eyes was to return home clean. Nothing short of that would work.

It was the truth, but to Dorian it felt as if he'd been struck. He smiled gamely at the man in the bed. "Are you sure you don't want to take your sleeping medication? Surely there's nothing wrong with that?"

"I'm uncomfortable with having any more drugs in my body than I have now."

"Of course," he said. "Well - if there's nothing else I can do, I should get to bed myself. I'll need to be fully rested for you tomorrow. You have only to press the button on your bed stand and I will be here. Good night, Major."

"Good night, Dorian." It was perhaps the only time Klaus could remember Dorian leaving him anywhere, leaving his presence of his own violation. /I'm a fading interest, even for him.../

~~~~~

Klaus had been a ball of nerves all through dinner the next night.

Not just nerves, though -- little extra tensing of muscles already knotted tight from mistreatment, a roiling feeling in his stomach that left dinner less eaten than it'd been the night before.

With Dorian's support, they'd headed into the music room in the downstairs, and Klaus sat in a comfortable chair, trying to calm his body.

Dorian put on a recording of the Pastorale, trying to think of something soothing, but he didn't have high hopes for it, the way Klaus was looking.

He sat next to the trembling man and asked softly, "Is my being close making it worse?"

"No -- my thinking about it," Klaus sighed. "My muscles are turning to rock..."

"Would you like your legs rubbed?" Dorian asked, "or a hot bath, perhaps might be good."

A hot bath was tempting, but he'd tried those before, while simply sick -- it somehow made things better, and worse all at once. "Not a bath," he said, trying to keep from having to outright ask for the first -- it would have to be done, if he was going to get up the stairs...

"Then a brief massage," Dorian said, already kneeling. He began at Klaus's feet, taking off his shoes without a word and gently massage the spasming feet. "Deep breaths, Major," he said quietly, "and it might help to concentrate on something..."

Touch. Klaus wasn't the most tactile of men, but he could enjoy those skilled hands rubbing at tightly corded, knotted muscles, spreading a comfortable heated touch over them. "Ah..."

"That's right," Dorian murmured, working steadily upwards. He slid his hands over the large muscles of Klaus's calves, using the palm of his hand to soothe the muscles, his thumbs to work the smaller ones on the front side. "Deep breaths... deep breaths..."

There were more gasps than deep breaths from Klaus as he felt muscles give up for at least the moment, surrendering to Dorian's skilled touch. "That feels..." Wonderful, perfect, so much so that he didn't care when Dorian slid up his pant leg to better feel out his muscles.

/Lovely/ thought Dorian, /all that muscle... if only it weren't in such dreadful circumstances.../

Now he was up to Klaus's kneecaps and the stringy muscles behind them, paying special attention to the large knot at the base of the back of the man's thigh. It was rock hard and he took extra care with it before moving to the other leg in the same place.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this, Major," he whispered. "You of all people..."

"I deserve it for... things I've done... I..." Klaus trailed off when the second knot was defeated, letting out a huff of breath that was half pleasure, and half pain.

"Nothing you've done would ever be deserving of this!" Dorian said firmly. His touch, however, was gentle as he massaged the large muscles atop Klaus's thighs - being careful to look at the man's knees lest he feel too uncomfortable.

Not that Klaus was looking -- his stormy-green eyes were closed tightly. "Killed, hurt..."

"Part of your job, Major. Not something to be punished for." God, he wanted to take the man in his arms and hold him close! He wanted to run his fingers through the silky dark hair and whisper soothing things to him the whole night through... He settled, however, for saying softly, "Are you ready to go upstairs - the elevator is waiting..."

He half wanted to protest that, the elevator, but didn't. They both knew it was best. "Thank you, Dorian. The trouble I'm putting you through must be tremendous.."

"I won't hear a word of that, dear man," Dorian said, putting two fingers on Klaus's lips for a moment. Then he stood, putting one shoulder underneath the Major's arm and helping him up from the chair. "This way!"

"Lead on," Klaus said shakily, feeling better about walking now, if only from the residual effects on Dorian's wonderful touch.

The elevator doors slid open as they approached. It was small - just large enough for the two of them and fitting with cream satin walls inside. Dorian pressed the button for the second level and the doors purred shut again. "It shouldn't take long to get you to bed," Dorian said, trying to be soothing.

"It isn't that I'll be sleeping," Klaus told him, letting his weight rest on the support granted by Dorian's arm and shoulder. "You may as just put me in a burlap sack and leave me alone for a few days."

"I'll do no such thing!" the Earl protested. "I'll have you know I intend to stay in your room and watch over you until you're through this. *No one* should have to go through this kind of thing alone!"

"But you won't be able to do anything..." Nothing that he could think of, with his limited experience in the realm of things people did for other people.

"I can be there, for you to hold on to or talk to or even scream at, should you need it," the blond said. "And I can make sure you don't hurt yourself."

Things Klaus hadn't even thought of needing, but knew he'd be appreciating them soon enough. "I'll try to sleep for however long I can." Then he fell quiet until the door opened, and they stepped into the hall-way. "I can't thank you enough, Dorian."

"There's really no need," he said, "but I'll accept your thanks anyway. The last thing I want is for you to feel indebted to me." They had gained the room and now Dorian was helping Klaus inside, easing him down to sit on the bed.

"Not indebted -- we've saved each other's life many times, Dorian. But I am... grateful that you are bothering where my own family will not," Klaus told him, using the thief's shoulders momentarily for support to remain sitting upright. "This would be easier if I were in better shape to start."

"But that's the whole idea," Dorian said practically. "You're here to get better."

"Mm. The paradox of getting worse first, though, bothers me," Klaus sighed as he started to remove his tie with unsteady fingers -- put on that morning purely out of habit.

"Well, just as you have on many missions," his companion said. "you are heading into unknown territory. But you've handled unknowns before and you will this time, as well." He gave the Major a winning smile. "And besides - this time you have me to help and no matter what you say, that shouldn't be scoffed at!"

The tie landed neatly on the bed-side table, and Klaus nodded a little. "I'm hoping you won't choose at some later date to hold this acceptance of help above my head."

"Do I look like the sort of man to do that?" Dorian said, eyes wide with pretend hurt.

"I hope you are not." Klaus was truthful when he said it -- because he didn't know the earl well enough to know or not. Before, he'd had a horrible habit of mentioning in public the few kindnesses Klaus had granted towards them, giving a homosexual overtone to them. It would be no small wonder if he didn't do it again...

Holding his hand over his heart, Dorian closed his eyes and said solemnly, "No matter how delicious the situation is, I promise never to mention this again..." he squinted open one eye at Klaus, "in public." And then he laughed lightly and held out his hand for the Major's shirt.

And his hand brushed exhaustion-trembling fingers as Klaus handed it to him. "Well, that I can cope with."

"Good," Dorian said firmly, crossing to the walk-in closet. "I'll stay in here, staring at your wardrobe whilst you undress the rest of the way. Do you wear pyjamas?"

"Normally, yes," Klaus answered, standing up to slide down his pants, that hung loosely from him. "I brought a pair with me -- to the right side." They were black, and half made from silk -- Klaus was expecting Dorian to loudly approve.

"Are you decent?" Dorian asked, waiting a moment and then peeking out of the closet doorway. "I'll just call someone to bring up a pitcher of water for you." He crossed to the desk and lifted the telephone, giving the order, then turned back to Klaus. "Oh, here - he said, seeing how badly the other man was trembling, "let me help to get you set." He walked over to the bed and plumped the pillows before guiding Klaus back onto them carefully, only fully releasing his own breath when his guest was situated.

"Do you want quiet? Try to sleep some, Hm?" /May I stroke your hair, and kiss your goodnight...?/

Klaus was already closing his eyes, letting out a tired breath. "Yes, I will. Don't leave for too long, even... if I'm sleeping..." The horror stories of dying in withdrawal, though rare, were vivid in his mind, and it was a terrible possibility, remote as it was.

And then the Major drifted off into what would be twelve hours of a heavy, restless sleep.

~~~~

"How is your head feeling?"

Dorian was wringing out a cold cloth over the small basin that stood on the dressing table. It had been a week since Klaus has stopped the methadone - a hellish week for the dark-haired man and one which had caused Dorian continual worry about the effect of such a sudden withdrawal on Klaus's body.

"Would you like another massage?"

"Nnn." Klaus already felt like a terrible, pained heap of mush, despite the steely-twinges his muscles were inclined to. And his head felt ready to crack open, his brains oozing out... He'd already once been ready to swear up and down that it had already happened. But that wave of strange delirium had passed him by, along with the little food he'd managed to ingest that morning, and both left him an exhausted knot of agony in the bed, laying face first, head turned to the side on the pillow, blearily watching Dorian's movements as he knotted his hands in the sheets, over and over again.

"Then I'll just run a warm cloth over you," Dorian murmured soothingly. "It might make your skin feel a little less prickly."

He brought the cloth and basin over to the bed and set the basin on the night table. Beginning with Klaus's neck, he carefully moved the thick, dark hair aside and softly daubed the cloth over clammy skin. "We've made some clear broth that I'd like you to try later. It doesn't have to be now, though."

After the second day, Klaus had given up entirely on his pyjamas, and just wore boxers. At least they stuck to him less. "Later," he agreed thickly, muscles tensing as that cloth tickled between his shoulders. It was a nice relief from the pain, that touch, but it almost tickled... "Uhh... feel sick 'gain..." His English, never quite perfect, was worsened by the hazy feeling his mind had taken on -- but it was enough to convey ideas.

Dorian put a porcelain pot next to him and held his hair out of the way, thinking that if he could still adore a man who was doing this, it must be love indeed.

Then he brought a glass of water to the parched lips, letting the man wash his mouth and swallow the tiniest sips.

"I could get some ice chips for you," he said as he settled the major down again. "They might be easier for your stomach to handle..."

"'n't leave," Klaus mumbled as another bout of racking tensions (spasms?) raced through his body. It might be easier if Dorian just killed him and saved him any more misery! Dorian watched as Klaus tried to move some, more onto his side, arms coming up to clutch tiredly at the pillow for support. "H–rst du... auch zu? Die Panzerlied... Ob's st¸rmt oder schneit... Ob die Sonne uns lacht, Der... Tag gl¸hend heiþ... Oder finster die Nacht..."

Dorian had heard Klaus sing it before, the Tank Song; it seemed the only song the man knew, and of course it was a march. But that one time, Klaus had put the marching tune to new heights with a beautiful crafting of it in his strong voice. Now it ached inside to hear it -- far less than singing, that broken, exhausted mumbling of familiar words.

Stroking the dark hair, Dorian sat down on the floor beside the bed and began humming along with it. He couldn't remember the German words, but he had never forgotten the tune.

Klaus finally faded out during the middle of the forth verse, face tight with pain. His stomach was twisting tight in cramps again, along with the entirety of his upper back. "Make this stop, Dor'n..."

"I wish I could," Dorian murmured, stopping short of saying "love" at the end. But he did the only thing he knew, which was to press warm hands and face to the man's back, rubbing ever so gently, trying to coax the muscles into loosening. "Hold fast, Major," he whispered, "and I'll tell you a secret, all right?"

"Mmn." An assertive murmur, and Dorian could feel those muscles slowly become less knotted than before. "Was?" It was something to distract his mind, for as long as he could hold his concentration on Dorian's tender touch and solid warmth.

"Well, when I was a child, I had an imaginary friend... and he was German, of all things." Dorian gave a light laugh.

Klaus moved a little, to half sit-up, leaving Dorian hovering above his chest and stomach, muscles just as knotted. He wanted to look at Dorian while the man spoke, despite the misery movement caused. "'ou did...?"

"Mmmm... indeed I did," the Earl continued, helping Klaus to his back and rubbing softly over his chest, again coaxing knotted muscles between his ribs to relax. "His name was Max. He could do *anything* - climb trees, fend off dragons, help me hide my father's shoes - *everything.* Max was a tactical genius at 5-years-old." There was a distant twinkle in the thief's eye as he talked and the movement of his hands became soft and rhythmical.

Shifting up to that touch minutely, Klaus let out a heavy sigh that made his too-thin from mistreatment chest to heave. "Deswegen sind Sie hier..." Dorian wanted his imaginary friend again...? "'ver had one... too child..." He moved a hand, barely able to place where it was at the end of his arm, and moved it blearily to rest on Dorian's shoulder -- just resting there, barely able to do that much.

"Yes, well," Dorian said, trying not to sigh with pleasure, "I *was* a bit childish as a child, and my sisters were not good playmates, being younger than me. So, I simply had to invent someone and Max was the *best.*"

He moved his fingers outward, along Klaus's shoulders and slowly around to the edges of his back. "It was perfect, actually - he came when I wanted him to, he left when I got bored, he was always up for any game and... he made me braver - just because he was there."

"N't real..." Klaus' voice seemed strained for a moment, hand shifting restlessly atop Dorian's shoulder. "How... 'f not real?" it seemed to be a secret that Dorian alone held -- how one could have such fun with their own mind.

"I don't know, really," the Earl mused, bringing one hand up to cover Klaus's. "I suppose my imagination is much more vivid than many people's are. I rather like it..."

"Bet y' do..." Klaus' eyes clenched closed again, a tight spasm of agony taking him over again, and a need to shift, that aching restlessness again... "'nt to pretend this... 's n't ths' way."

"I don't think even *I* could do that, Major. No, you are a much stronger man than I, that way." He reached a hand out to massage the German man's forehead, soothing away the tightness between his brows. "I suppose that my strength is subtlety and yours is... well, *strength* itself."

"'m fright... th's go on, n't stop..." His hand jerked a little at Dorian's shoulder, a light tug.

The blond man leaned forward in what seemed to him to be the most natural of movements, wrapping his arms lightly around Klaus's frame and holding him closely but gently. "No matter how bad this gets," he whispered in the man's ear, "this *is* finite... it will *not* last forever. You must tell yourself that, over and over - and I will tell you too, all right? Just hold on..."

It was somehow the best and worst thing Dorian could have done for Klaus then -- the man's heavy-feeling arms draped around Dorian's body, just to keep him close as he was. "Not more... Tired. very tired..." The way he said tired implied exhausted more than sleepy, and he kept saying that string of phrases over and over again, a quiet pleading until he couldn't hold it any longer. His voice turned to a pathetic-sounding beg, to hear in that deep tone, shaking worse than before. He probably would have been crying, had he enough left in his system to manage it.

"More?" Dorian said in a puzzled voice. "My dear major, rest assured I have no plans to molest you. You really must believe that. But I wish I could take on some of your fatigue and bear it for you... I can see how you're suffering..."

"Last too long... already," Klaus managed to eke out, still not letting Dorian back up yet. "Kill me. Kill me... gun in... in back. If... please..."

"NO, Major," Dorian said firmly. "You *will* come out on the other side of this if I have to pull you through kicking and screaming myself. If I have to get down there on the bed with you and live through every ache and pain those bastards have made your go through, I *swear* you are coming out of this alive and with your bad temper *very* firmly in tact!"

The whimpering noises mutated into a strange, strained sort of laughter from Klaus. "'n't think you want that... keep this way, to..." It wasn't making sense anymore. Words, English, was failing him utterly. The only thing that wasn't failing him then was Dorian - warm, strong and very real, kept partly atop him, a pressure against a drifting feeling of unreality.

"Shall I tell you about the time I stole a pearl necklace from a widow's neck at a ball in Monaco?" Dorian murmured. "She was very easily snake-charmed..."

~~~~~~~

A week later wasn't much better, and Dorian felt as ill from frustration as Klaus looked. His muscles were so badly knotted that the thief couldn't keep atop them, and his already low body weight was dropping far too fast. He'd told the man every story he could think of from the past ten years, ready to reach back farther if it was needed. Sometimes, Klaus didn't seem there at all, gaze glassed over and hidden; other times, he was too lucid, screaming in pain and begging to be killed.

It was a shaking experience to see the steel-spined man begging for a knife, a gun, poison, or his pills. If Klaus could be bent...

But it was a calm time at that moment -- as calm as it got. Klaus was half-dozing, body exhausted from a bout of pain, head resting in the thief's lap. Physical contact was a godsend he'd sought out since that day a week before.

Dorian stroked the sleeping man's hair, so gently that only he could really feel it. He had told the man that there *was* an end to this, and now found his own hope failing him a little. Never when Klaus was awake or needing him - only during times like these, when he had a moment to breathe and try to remember what life had been life for both of them before this had happened. /Can't tell whether I'd be better off, thinking he was dead. I highly doubt it. At least now I know where he is and I can be with him and helping him. If only - ah, Major... it hurts to see you hurting and to know that only the severest amount of pain would open you to me.../

But it was an opening, the sort of which he'd never had before. It was better than nothing, even if the circumstances were the worst possible for it to happen in. And when the Major came out of all of that, where would they be? Back in the grind of missions and hate, shouted words and one-sided fist-fights...?

For now, though, it was Klaus who moved a groggy arm around the thief's waist, to hold on to as he was stirred awake by newly cramping muscles.

Dorian's hands moved to those muscles automatically, no thought needed to guide them to where the knots would be forming. Slowly, surely, he worked them out the best they he, and the rest of the Earl's energy was spent in just keeping Klaus from throwing himself off the bed. "There, there - now... you've gotten a little sleep and that's a very good thing..."

"How much longer...?" His voice that once, nearly a year before that damnable mission that had landed him in the condition he was in had started, had been an accent-thick, loud baritone, was barely a thready rasp of anything at all from the hell it had expressed in the past two weeks. "I'll die if this doesn't stop soon..."

"No, you won't," Klaus said, hiding every ounce of despair he had. "I simply won't let you. You're staying here to argue with me and fight with me and put me in my place when I'm too frivolous." He drew a deep breath and let himself babble for bit. "I mean really, Major! Can you imagine the world with *me* in it and not *you*?? Why, think of the inevitable downfall of man! Everyone would start becoming soft! There'd be no babies born because all the men would succumb to my charms and fall in love with me and, when it became clear that I was a limited commodity, they'd start chasing each other! It would be chaos, I tell you! No, I'm sorry - you are needed, my dear man, if only to balance *me.*"

It got him the first real laugh, though exhausted, that he'd heard in weeks from the man. "Playing the idiot again... 's our secret that you're not..." He let his head loll to one side, eyes closing tightly as he buried his face against the inside of Dorian's leg. He didn't care what he was resting on, or find his pride worth protecting or defending. Dorian was an unexplainable comfort for him...

"So," Dorian said in a satisfied voice, "you see what your duty is: to keep the world safe for manly men. I will not let you fail in that duty. Besides... I *am* an idiot in some respects. That's part of *my* duty in life. And one I take very seriously." He nodded solemnly. "I am very particular about my idiocy."

Another tired chuckle, and Klaus shifted some to try, against the pain of his unhappy muscles, to sleep. "You... sleep, D'rian," he commanded in a muffled rasp.

Just seconds before there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Lord Dorian? There's a man here to see the Major," Peters announced, which mean that Bonham was down there speaking with the man, in all likelihood.

Dorian stole a look at Klaus and then asked, "Can you tell us who it is, Peters?"

"It's Agent Z, sir."

"Major? Are you up to having Agent Z come up and visit?" Dorian asked, half wanting to command him to say no.

"I... yes," Klaus decided. Z knew how bad it would be, and he trusted the other agent as if they were family. He'd trained Z himself, to a loyal image of what a good Agent should be... "'n't move."

Dorian looked down at him in alarm. "Don't move? Surely you don't want him to see... well see *me*... see *this*!"

"It's *Z*," he stressed as best he could -- essentially saying that he didn't care just then. The haze on him, a light pain, was enough to muddle any decision, though, that much Dorian knew....

"Should I bring him up, sir, or not?" Peters asked politely.

Sighing, the Earl nodded. "Yes, Peters." After the servant had left he stroked Klaus's hair again. "What *am* I going to do with you...?"

"Not move," Klaus mumbled in a nearly pleased tone -- at least, it wasn't angry, pleading or screaming, so it had to be pleased. He shifted his still heavy-feeling arm, pulling himself a little closer to Dorian than the other way around.

"Aren't you worried about what your colleague will take back to NATO?" Dorian asked, wondering why in hell he felt compelled to *complain* about having the Major's arm around him.

"'m ill," he said, and it was the truth. "Z know... s how to lie."

"Oh, well, in that case, I guess it's all fine and dandy," Dorian smiled down at him. "Imagine that! Stunningly handsome and a good liar to boot. What else could one ask for in a man?"

"Shhh..." Klaus wanted, just for once in so long, for Dorian to be quiet, or *quieter*. He was the most comfortable he'd been in what felt like an eternity.

"Agent Z here, sir," Peters announced, before he opened the bedroom door and let the younger man in.

He was dressed just as always -- suit, trench-coat tossed over one arm -- but there was a tiredness about him that wasn't usually there. It faded, though, as he laid eyes upon the bed. Lord Dorian, sitting cross-legged where a pillow should have been, Klaus's head in his lap, an arm around the man. "I... I'm sorry I arrived on such short noticeÖ"

"It's not a problem at all, Z," Dorian said. "Welcome to my home. I think the Major is feeling a bit better right now, so it's actually an opportune moment to visit."

"Oh... g-good," Z stammered, pulling a chair up near the bed and looking uneasily at Klaus. He wasn't used to seeing the man that close to another human being, let alone not dressed and that way! At least, from where the sheet fell at the curve of his back, it didn't seem as if he was dressed, since all he could see was bare, bare skin...

Dorian was probably enjoying it, despite the ill look Klaus had about him.

"Sir, The Alphabets are... worried about you. We miss you."

"'iss me?" Klaus looked amused at that possibility, shifting a bit restlessly against Dorian. "'ll be there... soon as over this."

"Over..." Z looked up to Dorian, unsure of what Klaus was talking about.

"Yes," Dorian said, levelling a steady gaze at Z. "Methadone withdrawal. This is his second week of it."

"Methadone?" Z looked terribly startled. "Sir, we'd never been told...!"

"'s the chief for you," Klaus murmured, shifting a little onto his side to better look at Z.

"He's been very strong through this whole thing," Dorian said, looking down at Klaus and trying not to smile. "It's been hell, but he's making it."

"'s nice to hear from the men... h'w'r they...?" The hazy gaze Klaus fixed Z with made the other man shiver a little -- so strange, to see Klaus not entirely there.

"They're fine, sir -- we have a new major temporarily, since you were presumed dead..."

"He's not even half of what Major Eberbach is," Dorian sniffed. He was trying not to interrupt their conversation, but somehow he felt suddenly defensive of the weakened man.

"He isn't, and that's why I came to make sure that the Major is... recovering well," Z said, looking nervous for a moment.

"'ll be back on duty soon as p'ssble."

"As soon as your *health* permits!" the Earl said, scolding softly. "Sending you on missions when you not 100% would be suicide and that's not permitted. Understand, Major?"

"Mmmhmm," he murmured, shaking his head minutely at Z. "100%. 'll drag myself up there, just to... AHH!" The placidness of conversation was cut short as he curled in on himself suddenly, starting to shake from the pain on a stab that sliced through him from his stomach right through to his upper back.

"Sir, is there... anything I can do to help...?" Z had bolted to his feet, but now didn't know what to do next.

"There's nothing for it but to wait it out," Dorian said calmly. He began to massage Klaus's back, hoping that Z would not say too much about what the Major was having to go through back at NATO headquarters.

"Wait it out...? He... he's been like this for two weeks now?" Z asked, looking incredulous.

"Yes," Dorian said. And this is a mild one."

"Mild..." Z mouthed the word more than he echoed it, looking at the pain on Klaus' face ashen struggled to withstand the wrenching muscle spasm. "Sir... Major, if anyone can stand this, you can."

"That's right, Major. Listen to your own agent. You *can* do this."

"Hurts so much..." Klaus gritted out, pressing all the closer to Dorian's body, as if that would help him over-come the pain.

"Yes," Dorian whispered. It was maddening to hear him like that, to know how bad it must be, and not to be able to do a damn thing about it. "How are you fairing, Z?" he asked.

"Better than this," Z whispered. "When I go back, I'll just tell them you're getting better, major..."

"Fucking... what... ever..." Gritted out, but to hear Klaus growling a curse at all was comforting, strangely, for Z!

"Believe it or not, he *is* better than he was last week. Even though he doesn't believe it himself..." Dorian said, keeping his eyes on the German man.

"I can't imagine... such a long time of that." Z sat back down again, looking worriedly at Klaus as his body tightened again, then went limp all together.

"'s fucking god..." Shifting closer yet to Dorian, Klaus seemed all but ready to crawl into the man's lap, if he could have done it laying down.

"It's okay," Dorian said, and then, automatically added, "I'm here..." He only thought after he said it about how it must have sounded to the agent.

"Z... go," Klaus managed to choke out, before whimpering, "I'm going to be sick again..."

"Sir... I'll come back tomorrow before I leave, sir."

"Please," Dorian urged him and at that moment Bonham thankfully appeared at the door to escort him out. "You'll be fine... you'll be fine," the blond man whispered. holding the sick bowl and stroking Klaus's hair back from his face. /You *must* be fine... one of these days.../

One of these days.

~~~~

It was finally starting to look like it was just the flu.

A small, wonderful blessing, as week three rolled around, and Klaus had finally gotten past the stomach cramps that made him throw up, the diarrhea, the worst of the muscle spasms. Now it was just the tearing of his eyes, a little at his nose, and a fever that combined with exhaustion. He'd been weighed that morning, and had lost twenty pounds that he could hardly afford to be without.

But he was awake, and there was no scream of pain leaving his lips; hadn't been in two days.

Dorian walked into the room with a small bunch of fragrant, pristine white flowers. "I didn't think you'd want flowers with the stomach problems, but I thought now..." He looked hesitantly at Klaus. "If you don't like them, I can take them out again."

Klaus gave him a tired, though genuine smile for a brief second. "I'd like them in here, Dorian."

"Good," the Earl said, because I'd hate to have to plant them all back in the flower bed." He put them in a deep blue glass pitcher he'd brought up to the room with him, then took the chair by the bed. "How are you managing that fever?" he asked. "Would you like me to give you a bath?"

"A bath... a cool bath," Klaus requested, starting to try to sit up. "I smell like an old dog right now, and you cant'... lie and say I don't." He didn't even bother protesting to Dorian's idea of giving him the bath; it didn't matter any longer. His pride wasn't even showing a pulse by then, let alone rearing it's angry head.

"All right, then - you smell like an old dog. But it happens to be an old dog of which I am very fond. Now then - into the bathroom..."

He held up a clean, silky robe that would soothe over sensitive skin, and waited while Klaus slipped into it. "I'll just start the bath water," he mumbled and then hurried ahead to the bathroom, to hide the blush on his face. /Damn, he can *still* do that to me!/

Somewhere in the past two of the three weeks, Klaus had lost all care of his body, or who looked at it. He didn't think Dorian could get any pleasure from looking at his sharp-edged form, marked with missions scars from the very beginning. It wasn't a fear at all. In fact, even if Dorian had, so what? the Thief knew Klaus' boundaries... even though Klaus himself was no longer sure.

Dorian stood up from a tepid bath as the Major walked in. "Privacy or company?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Resting most of his weight against the jamb of the door, Klaus decided for a moment. "Company. I'm still... very tired..."

"Right," the blond nodded, turning off the taps and helping the other man into the tub. He'd brought a side chair in last week so he could keep an eye on Klaus while he had warm soaks and now he pulled it up beside the tub. "It may not feel like it," he said, "but you look a lot better than you have. How are you feeling overall?"

"Better than when I came here." Most of that was because he was no longer a slave to a foreign substance -- no longer ruled by an illegal, thought twisting drug. "You've been very good through all of this...." Not taking advantage when given so many chances, as he had now with Klaus stretched out nude in a bathtub.

"Unfair, sir!" Dorian said in mock hurt. "I'll have you know that I may be a thief but I'm a *very* honourable man! I would never take anyone against his will unless he wanted me to." He sat, staring at the wall opposite him with a very self-satisfied smile. "And *oh* that can be delicious..."

"If they want you to take them, Lord Gloria, how could it be against their will?" Klaus asked in amusement, sinking down a little lower into the comforting water. Yes, feeling much better than before. Now he faced the harrowing task of getting himself physically up to his old par.

"Fantasy, my dear Major," Dorian murmured back, mind obviously very pleasantly preoccupied. "You know, another couple of days and I think you'll be able to get up again - take a turn around the house...?"

Klaus let his head rest against the porcelain rim, water level lapping at his half-wet strands of black hair. "I need to start exercising again. I'm in pathetic shape now." And there was no denying that, either -- far too thin, what little body fat he'd had wasted away with muscle-tissue.

"You'll not start until your completely well," the blond scolded. "I won't have you driving yourself too hard and losing all the ground you've won." There was a hint of fiendish glee in his eyes. "Besides," he said, "you changed the subject. Do *you* ever have fantasies, Major?"

"Nein," he denied easily -- of course he had, but why would he tell Dorian?! "What would I fantasize about?"

Now *this* was in interesting question. Dorian furrowed his brows a bit. "Hmmm... large German women with blond hair and braids? Statuesque Italians with dangerous connections and even *more* dangerous lips? Small, intense Russians who want you, quite literally, under their thumbs - not to mention other body parts?"

"I aim low -- someone who won't piss me off or bore me with egotism," Klaus snorted, flicking a little splash of water at the thief for the suggestions he'd made.

"Oh, well - that's it for me then," Dorian, scooting his chair back just in time to avoid most of the splash. "Let's see - there's always one of those aristocratic girls that move in the same circles as your family." Dorian gave Klaus a wink and added. "Wouldn't daddy be pleased?"

"My father would be terribly pleased, *if* such a thing ever happened. But it will not." Eyes closed again, Klaus let out a sigh, stretching his shoulders a little. Far too tight, still, but no longer spasming. "What do you think of? Fluffy little boys?"

"Oh, myself I've never believed in specializing *too* carefully." The Earl had tipped the chair back just a bit and was stretching long, slim legs across to a small hamper. He rested his feet on it and then looked thoughtful. "Fluffy little boys have their place, but I find myself tiring of them more and more... so many of them have invested a short lifetime to learning how to slouch seductively, but haven't *read* a thing or see anything of life beyond their parents' little suburban manors." He shook his head. "No, I think I'm coming to prefer the worldly types - at least then you have something to talk about afterwards."

"Many would doubt you have the capacity for good conversation, let alone look for it," Klaus mused. They'd had that conversation before, though -- how Dorian put on his show and how they both knew it was just a facade. After a moment more of relaxing, Klaus picked up the bar of soap and finally began to use it to clean himself.

"It's fun to play it a little dim," the blond said, smiling at the sight of soap slipping over wet skin. "It nearly always gets me amusing results - remember that Belgian policeman who didn't know whether to arrest me or propose marriage?"

"But would you truly want someone who fell for an idiot?" Strange, that Dorian would use such horrible bait, and wonder why the men he ended up with were so often pathetic. Then again, at least Dorian had lovers and friends, where Klaus had found himself sickeningly lacking in any of the above, when he'd needed dire help.

"Well, not *permanently*, no, but it was an exciting couple of days." Dorian tipped his chair back a little further, leaning his head back against the wall and staring off in space. "No, *permanence*... that would require an entirely different approach..."

"Of...?" Just asked curiously, to keep the conversation going. If it stopped, Klaus seriously feared he'd doze off in the tub. Again.

"Well," the Earl began thoughtfully, and then, tilting the chair just one degree too far back, it tipped over on him. He went down with a slight squawk, ending up with his head on the carpet and his feet on the edge of the chair, which lay sideways on the floor. Hoisting himself up to his elbows, he stared at Klaus at said, "Well, obviously not *that* way..."

It had startled the major, that fall, and he'd half been ready to get out of the water, if Dorian hadn't played it off so nonchalantly. So, Klaus decided that he, too, could play it that way -- and let an arm reach over the edge of the tub, offered. "Hand up?"

"Yes, thank you," Dorian replied, looking rather sheepish as he stood, trying not to put too much weight on Klaus's arm. As his fingers slid over the dark-haired man's he felt a shiver inside. /Why do I have to be so hopelessly in love with you? And why do you have to be so insufferably straight.../

"You're welcome," Klaus replied pleasantly enough for him, as he moved his hand back into the water once Dorian was standing again. He waited for the Earl to be seated before he decided to talk again, leaning forward to soap his legs and accidentally giving Dorian a clear, unobstructed view of his broad back. "Will you be staying with me still, now that I've improved?" Was there really a diplomatic way to tell the thief who'd chased him across continents, through hazards no man should bother with, that Klaus enjoyed and even took pleasure from being able to touch him?

"Staying with you? You mean remaining here at the house while you get better? If that's the case then yes, of course." Dorian crossed his long legs, tapping a toe causally in mid-air. "We've worked hard to get you where you are now and I don't want anything to go wrong and send you backwards. Call me mother hen-ish but there it is."

"I meant remaining in the room with me," Klaus replied, looking at the drain rather than Dorian as he took a moment to stretch out.

"Oh! Goodness, yes," Dorian said. "I'm not one to leave in shame just because I've nearly taken myself out with a chair. No, I'm made of tougher stuff than that."

It got him a rough laugh that hurt a little, but felt good to let free. "I meant... Well, you know very well what I meant."

Dorian stopped bouncing his leg and looked over at the man in the tub. "Uh - no, I'm afraid I don't."

To be the focus of Dorian's attention, and ask it again...? /Should have asked clearly the first time.../ Klaus leaned back again, forcing his aching body to relax. "Will you be staying with me in the bedroom any longer?"

It was a very good thing that the legs to Dorian's chair were all firmly on the floor, because the words alone nearly bowled him over. /Did he just ask what I think he asked? And in that way? Dear *god* I think my heart's about to stop!/

Outwardly, the Earl was calm, a trait his parents had trained into him early in life and one which served him in *very* good stead at moments like these. "I believe," he said, marvelling at the steadiness of his own voice, "that *that* particular decision should be yours to make."

"I would appreciate if you were to remain with me... for the remainder of my stay here," Klaus chanced, looking over to Dorian. His eyes were still blood-shot, expression thin and tired, half-lifeless, but the glint in those blood-shot eyes spoke of everything that Klaus *would* be again, given time to heal. Given reasons to heal.

"Then I would be most happy to do so," Dorian said, chancing his own glance at the dark-haired man and trying to keep the heat out of his gaze. "Shall I read the newspaper to you...?"

"No. Just talking with you is very enjoyable." Klaus sounded a little on edge, but in a good way, if there was such a thing as that! "Do you remember that time when you and I were in my tank with Caesar?"

Giving the major a sly look, Dorian smiled. "I do indeed. I'd never heard the Panzerlied sung so beautifully." He looked down at his hands for a moment and added, "That was the time I first began to understand you."

"There isn't much to understand, Dorian." Only that he appreciated discretion in personal matters, understatement, and intelligence. And that Dorian could manage all three, when he wanted.

"It was difficult," Dorian continued, "meeting someone whose ideas about the world were so blatantly different than mine. When I'd first met you I thought you to be damned near impossible to like but then... I don't know. Something in the way you sang that song... it helped me see things through your eyes, I suppose. And that made a world of difference." He looked over at the solemn-faced man in the tub. "Too bad you went on hating me," he teased.

"I kill people I hate, Dorian; I've never hated you. Been thoroughly pissed off at you when you fuck around with missions, but I've never hated you." Klaus drew half a breath, then ducked completely under the water, spilling a little over the lip before he came back up, hair rinsed the easy way.

For several moments Dorian enjoyed watching the sight of the stern, unyielding man looking like a large, half-drowned puppy. "Care for a towel?" he said, when most of the face had been revealed again.

Klaus finished pushing sopping wet strands of hair out of his face, and gave a coughing nod in reply.

Dorian stood and took a towel off of the warmer beside the tub. He held it up, and looked at a painting of a maiden in a tub beside the sea and murmured, "I'm averting my eyes..."

"Why bother now," Klaus murmured, "since you helped me into the tub and didn't avert your eyes then?" It wasn't a pointed question -- just an observation made aloud as Klaus grappled with the edge of the tub to pull himself weakly up, grasping onto Dorian for support once he was standing again.

Dorian shrugged elegantly. "I thought you might like to work back up to being formal again." He wrapped the towel around his companion's lean frame, struggling not to hold him and feeling a warm flush in his cheeks at the intimate situation.

"Why?" Klaus asked seriously, taking a step and needing to use Dorian's shoulders for support. "I am... trying to avoid that."

Blue eyes went wide and the Earl could only blink at the other man. "*Are* you?" he managed to get out.

"I did ask you to remain in my room with me until I leave, didn't I?" Klaus asked, suddenly wondering if he'd *imagined* asking that.

"Oh! Yes, well... yes..." Suddenly the room had grown very warm and Dorian was feeling as though his knees were turning to water. /How am I supposed to act nobly, now! Ah - the brute's doing this on purpose, surely - just to drive me mad with want!/

Feeling the need for either immediate sex or some fresh air, Dorian chose the more prudent path and, rather than force the Major down onto the bathroom carpet, he moved to the door, opening it and then helping Klaus out into the bedroom, where he could change. /Oh, *please* don't make me dress you! That would be asking a man to do the impossible!/

Klaus sneezed as he made his way unsteadily towards the closet. He'd made a great deal of possibly stupid decisions in his day, but this was ranked up there with the best of them. What was even the point of telling or suggesting that to Dorian? He still had his job to do, no matter what. No matter that he was starting to appreciate the thief on many levels, or, perhaps it was that he was at last admitting to that appreciation. "Are you going to try to get me to do anything today?"

"Well, it depends," Dorian said thoughtfully. "If you're still feeling poorly there's always the library downstairs, or a good game of cards." He found himself automatically moving to pat Klaus's dark hair dry with the towel. "But if you're up to it, we could take or walk or even a drive, if you like."

Always a man to overestimate what he could accomplish while ill, it was telling of his state when he said, "the library, please." Clothes were quick to find, a pair of his comfortable button up panamas.

Walking down the stairs, with Klaus's arm on his shoulder, Dorian kept his eyes on the portraits in his gallery at the top of the stairs and murmured, "You're being very patient with yourself, Major. That's a very admirable ability because you'll heal faster that way."

"I usually push myself so hard knowing that I have a reserve of strength if it's needed. I no longer have that to fall back on," Klaus told him, taking not a step faster than Dorian. Otherwise, he was sure he'd slip.

They managed the trip downstairs and walked into the library, in which Dorian had instructed Bonham to build a fire. It was comfortably warm and the hearth gave off a pleasant woody smell as the Earl led Klaus over to a long daybed near a mullioned window. "Why don't you lie down here," he suggested, "and tell me what kinds of books you like best. Then I can fetch them for you. I love to use my library ladders!"

/I bet you do,/ Klaus mused as he did lay down, feeling unpleasantly decadent to be doing so. It was strange, that sort of feeling... "I'll read nearly anything, Dorian. Especially anything historic."

The Earl picked up the soft afghan throw that had been at the back of the daybed and carefully wrapped it around Klaus once he'd gotten comfortable. Then he walked to a tall ladder and began to climb. "Right," he said, "histories. I'm guessing you'd prefer continental to British or American, but do you favour ancient or modern eras?" He leaned out a bit, a slender hand skimming along the volumes.

"Anything after the hundred years war." A little smile twitched his lips once he'd said it, settling into that afghan a little more. He hated reading about how the French and the English clashed. Again. And Again. Like idiots.

"Hmm... well, there are plenty of wars to choose from," Dorian said cheerfully. "If you like it religious, there's the Thirty Years War, or if you want it specifically Germanic here's one on the Franco-Prussian War... or if you don't want war at all we have a little volume on the Enlightenment and another on the exploits of the Dutch East India Company..."

He turned his toe around on the ladder rung and fixed the dark-haired man with an inquisitive look. "Any of those sound promising?"

"Franco Prussian war," Klaus decided. He'd never liked reading about economic games played, either current or modern, and philosophy was often flighty at best. "What sort of things do you read, Dorian?"

"Who, me?" Dorian asked, pushing off with his ladder and scooting closer to the Franco-Prussian book. /Why are *you* asking such questions, Major?/

"I like Jane Austen, and anything about Arthurian times... and E.M. Forrster (thinks...is that how you spell E.M Forster?)) and essays by George Orwell." He looked sheepishly at Klaus. "Sorry - just a lot of Brits, eh?"

But the German man just smiled a little in reply. "I've read Once and Future King a few times; not all Brit writers are bad. Orwell had some very interesting ideas." (I thought T.H White wrote Once and Future King...or did Orwell do a copy as well?)

Dorian plucked another book from the shelf and then pulled himself quickly across the shelves. "Yes, he did indeed..." He turned to give the Major a wink. "So did Oscar Wilde - another favourite of mine."

"You would," Klaus snorted. "He's only man who can create a fairy tale that mixes Catholicism with homosexuality. Were you named after Dorian Gray?"

"Well," the blond said thoughtfully, "all the Wilde books in the house were my mother's. She may have been influenced..." He laughed then, and added, "Alas, however - I have no portrait in the attic, so I have to work hard on my looks!"

"No, you don't," Klaus told him, "You've barely been out of my presence in weeks now, and you're still ... well, you're still Dorian. Preening or no."

At that moment the Earl was infinitely grateful for the fact that his back was turned to the Major. "Major," he said trying not to sound shocked, "you flatter me far too much - but, being the kind of man I am, I adore it. Thank you." Slowly, he descended the ladder and brought three books over to Klaus: the promised Franco-Prussian War volume, another, slimmer text on the Battle of Marengo, and a third, a biography of Wagner.

All of which Klaus received with a completely approving look. "Thank you. Are you going to read anything?"

"Yes," Dorian said, turning back to his ladder. "I think I fancy another reading of The Odyssey. I have a very good translation here somewhere..." He moved up a few steps, then sent the ladder zooming across the bookcase, eyes sparkling. "My old nurse told me that I only discovered classics because it was the most fun section to get to..."

"You've lived here all of your life...?" At times, it seemed like he knew so much about the thief... but it was never quite enough to give him a full picture.

"Yes I have," Dorian said, whizzing back along the bookcase before climbing back down. He walked, with his book, to an armchair next to Klaus's daybed and settled himself. "I was born here - took my mother by surprise," he said cheerfully. Then, more seriously, he added, "I do love it, though - it's very much a part of who I am, though that must sound silly."

"Not silly at all, Dorian," Klaus mused, opening the book on the Franco-Prussian war first. "it's normal to be attached to your home." as he was very much attached to Schloss Eberbach, how could it be anything but? "Commendable, even."

"I take it you feel the same way about your own ancestral home?" Dorian said gently. "I'm sure it's very important to you."

Speaking of it seemed to bring a cloud over Klaus' brow, though he was trying to not let it show. "Yes, it is. I'll be glad when I'll be allowed to return again."

Dorian looked for a long moment at him and then said quietly, "I have to say it Major, and I mean no offence to you personally, but I think your family's actions have been wretched in this matter." He paused for a moment and then added, "They don't deserve you. You're too good for them, in my opinion."

"My family is limited to my father," Klaus murmured after a moment, "And I've never quite been able to do anything right for him. This was a validation for his views of me. But I'm still glad that you were willing to let me stay here."

"I was glad to have you here, Major. I can't begin to repay all the times you've saved *my* hide, so let this just be a small token toward that great debt." He smiled wistfully at the man beside him and wished for the thousandth time that Iron Klaus was gay. /*Damn* how I want to touch him.../

"I think that in missions, you have saved my life as often as I have yours... if only through luck," Klaus said, sounding... pleased for him. He couldn't help but attribute Dorian's skill in missions to luck, could he? Not yet. He still had some of his pride to hold onto, even in the face of trying to slowly admit to Dorian that he might just have a chance. "There's no need to do this to repay any 'debt'." /I'd rather you said you agreed because you wanted to./

"Well, then you're in luck," the Earl smiled, "because I would have done it even if had been *me* who saved *you* all those times. I know it will disgust you, Major, but I very much like being near you..."

That statement made Klaus so very deathly quiet, a still of silence that was brewing with a possible outburst of anger, or so it seemed to Dorian. But what broke the silence was possibly more dangerous for them both. "You've told me as much many times, Dorian. And shown it through un-necessary actions, both good and bad. Often... embarrassing actions." Calm, well thought phrases, that held a feel to them as if they had been a long time in the making -- when Klaus spoke so carefully, it often meant a killing blow. "But you've been very good to me in these past few weeks, doing things I would think no one would care to do for me... and I think it's only right that I, too, stop playing games."

Dorian stared at him, completely bewildered. "I... don't understand what you're talking about, Major."

"You've seen me with my pride and ability at it's lowest, and not abused that," Klaus murmured, "so I can trust you enough to tell you why I've been so cold to you all these years. I was afraid that letting you closer would allow you to compromise me."

Trying not to stutter, Dorian could only ask, in a bewildered voice, "Compromise you? How on earth would I do that?"

"Betray a trust I give to very, very few," Klaus murmured, closing the book he held to better concentrate on Dorian.

The Earl looked almost hurt. "I would never betray your trust," he said. "Not if I knew it was genuine..."

"What would it take for you to believe trust to be genuine?"

Dorian held the other man's gaze, still puzzling over what he was trying to get at. "Only your solemn word, Major. That's all."

"I trust you, Lord Gloria -- trust you to watch over me when in a fit of sick delirium, to sleep beside me..."

"Then I would never do anything to abuse that trust. It's as simple as that," Dorian said.

"I trust you to keep to yourself anything I may tell you or do that could compromise your safety or my position in NATO if... it were to become known," Klaus went on, waiting for a reaction to *that* before he said any more.

"I would never do such a thing!" Dorian said, somewhat indignantly. "I... I care about you... a great deal, Major. Your safety is not something I would jeopardize."

"Your safety would be the one compromised, do you understand?" Klaus murmured, sitting up a little on the day-bed to look intently at Dorian.

The Earl shook his head softly, now completely bewildered.

"If I..." Ach, how to proceed?! "I believe that I am interested in you, Lord Dorian" Gloria."

"Interested?" Dorian said, not understanding one bit. "I don't understand, Major. Whatever do you mean?" He obviously couldn't mean the obvious because... well because he was the Major!

"I mean just what you've been pursuing me over for the past decade." it looked like saying that was giving Klaus a great deal of trouble -- as if the concept was so foreign to him he didn't know how to turn the phrase.

Dorian's lovely face screwed up in puzzlement. "You mean... what I've been...? I'm sorry, I seem to be very dense this morning," he finally said, laughing self-consciously

/I think you want me to say it too you as often as possible,/ Klaus guessed instead of believing that excuse. "I want you."

"To do what?" Dorian asked.

It was the final, final edge of Klaus' patience. he'd been *trying* his damndest to say it carefully since the bathroom, but Dorian was either deliberately or out of flightiness denying his attempts. Or was it that the thief knew damn well what he was trying, and didn't want it done? "I want you to sleep beside me every night I can manage it; I want you to teach me the perverted things you've been hinting at for years; I want you at my side..."

Dorian looked stunned. "You... you do?" he said faintly. "Even... even the perverted stuff?" It simply couldn't be so! "You're joking aren't you?" he asked cautiously. "You're having one over on the queer, right? Just to get me agitated?"

"You agitated?! I've been trying to tell you all morning, and you've been passing it off!" Klaus snapped suddenly, a flaring of old, familiar anger -- yet anger aimed at something so strange! "Fucking dammit, it's not a hard concept to grasp!"

"I beg your pardon," Dorian said, leaning forwards a bit, "but from *you* it is! You've called me a disgusting, perverted faggot for years, why shouldn't I be a little disbelieving?"

Blessedly, Dorian omitted the various threats of setting him on fire, killing him, pushing him off cliffs... and just generally bashing him about. "What do I have to do to make up for my behaviour?"

Dorian pouted a bit, prettily though. "Nothing," he said softly. "I've behaved badly at times as well - and don't" he said pointing a finger at the dark-haired man, "go into a list of all the times!"

Well. He should have known Klaus would remember each time. "According to my family and the church, and society, Dorian, you *are* a disgusting perverted faggot." That was Klaus -- plain and bluntly to the point. "But you are also my only loyal friend, and the only person I've felt a reaction of any sort to in... years."

"Thank you... I think," Dorian said, frowning a bit. This was hardly a romantic beginning, but it was certainly classic Klaus. "So... what do we do now?" he asked.

"I don't know. Start small?"

Dorian tried not to grin lecherously, and only partly succeeded. "Do you... do you fancy a kiss, Major?" he said softly.

"Yes. And for you to move closer." He shifted again, every line of his still too thin body showing tiredness. "I enjoy holding you." He'd done it quite a few times in the past week or so, even when lucid, because the sensation was so wonderful.

Dorian walked to the daybed and gracefully dropped to his knees beside it. "Better?" he whispered, lifting a hand to trace the sharp curve of Klaus's cheek.

An arm slid behind Dorian's back, so strangely gentle a gesture from the murderous major. But holding Dorian was something he could have done for years and years... "Yes."

Now the gentle finger traced Klaus's lower lip, blue eyes staring at him in frank and open admiration. "Major... you do me such honour..."

"It's one you certainly deserve, if it's an honour at all," Klaus told him, heart picking up a pace at the light rub of finger-pad over his lip.

"I don't know about that," Dorian murmured, "but I do know that I can't refuse you *anything*..." With that, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Klaus's mouth, pulling back after a moment to see how it had been taken.

It hadn't been long enough, and yet it was almost too much for the other man; something sparked visibly behind verdant eyes, and then Klaus husked, "Do that again."

"My pleasure," Dorian hummed, nuzzling noses with the dark-haired man and then kissing him again, longer this time, but still as sweet.

Klaus, Klaus the Iron cold Major, tugged Dorian closer, pressing slightly parted lips nearer to Dorian's to savour more of that sweet, unknown friction. Dorian had pecked his mouth a few times over the years, but there was a difference between being kissed quickly during a flare of anger, and this... this sweet and savoury thing

Sighing deeply, the blond man lifted his hand back to Klaus's face, stroking a cheek with the back of his hand while gently pressing forward. Who knew what would be too much for the German man - given his so recently anti-gay opinions. Dorian wanted to be conservative, but his body had completely different plans. "Oh, Major," he whispered, his mouth open on Klaus's, "you are so *very* sweet..."

The need to refute that statement was strong and at fore in Klaus' mind, but he wouldn't let himself do that, not with so much at stake. A quiet wordless mumble of noise left his lips, more sighed than anything, as he took a kiss on his own this time, bottom lip sliding between Dorian's for a moment and eliciting a soft gasp.

Deciding silence was better than risking an ill-timed statement, Dorian simply continued to press soft kisses against those lips - lips he'd never in his life thought he had a chance of really kissing. His tongue teased lightly at Klaus's lower lip and he let out a small, pleasured sound as his fingers slid into silky dark hair.

That light teasing of tongue to lip was enough to get Klaus to let them part at last, though a part of his mind wondered to what purpose -- yet he was eager to discover it. /Ah, I've wanted this, Dorian, without knowing what it was.../

Gently, Dorian's tongue glided over Klaus's teeth, begging for entrance in a lingering, soft caress. It seemed completely unreal to him that he should be doing what he was doing at this moment, but he was afraid to pull back, worried that the lovely dream would burst and he'd back with the *real* Klaus, who despised him and found him below contempt.

The real Klaus who thought him worth only curses and blows, not conversation and kisses...

Finally, the gates of the fort fell, and Klaus seemed to surge against Dorian, trying to somehow get more of the kisses the blonde was giving him. It felt unreal, so very unreal, and he was half waiting for Dorian to stop, turn, and invite into the room half of the people he'd ever known.

But the thief had no such plans. He wanted Klaus as he'd always wanted him - completely to himself, willing and eager, and the thought that it had finally happened was both intensely arousing and stunningly frightful. What if he changed his mind in a couple of minutes? What if this little glimpse of paradise would be all he got? But he forced the thoughts from his mind, forced away any thoughts but those of the lovely man he held and pushed a little farther into that sweet mouth, caressing every spot with an sensuous and eager tongue.

Sex was for reproduction, or so his father had told him when he was little. Kissing a social formality that he was only supposed to do when expected of him; saying goodbye to a wife, children, etc...

But perhaps those things he'd been told had simply been over-simplified warnings to deter him from such things until he was old enough to understand. But what Klaus had been told had been taken most literally, and now, as he leaned back a bit more on the day-bed, pulling Dorian with him as best he could, Klaus felt that it was all nothing but lies.

Lies. The wall that had surrounded his heart, honour and dignity for so long, woven of nothing but lies...? What else had he been wrongly told, or just misinterpreted....?!

The kiss broke slowly, with him pulling back, hard breath pounding in his own ears. "Too much..." To try to process at once, that sudden flood-wall of internal questions!

"Sorry," Dorian said breathlessly. He sat back as well, staring at the other man, one hand still stroking his hair. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Major - really."

Klaus pulled his other arm free of the wrapping of the throw, and tried to pull Dorian closer again. "No... no, you aren't. Stay close."

"This is all new to you," Dorian said, smiling at him. "It doesn't have to be quick, but I won't leave your side until you tell me to... I've wanted to be here too long to do that."

Klaus nodded slowly, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Then he moved over until he was resting beside the frame of the day bed, an arm still around Dorian. He lacked so much of his old strength, and it was telling, else he could have moved Dorian from his kneeling position with no trouble at all. "Sit here. Or lay down."

Moving cat-like from where he knelt, the Earl stretched out beside Klaus and carefully put his arms around him. He was so thin, obviously weak, but there was a core of strength inside of him that was palpable even now and it made Dorian's blood race, to think of himself in the arms of such a man. "Please," he said quietly, "tell me I'm not dreaming, Major."

"If it's a dream, Dorian, it's the most fucked up thing I've ever come up with," Klaus murmured, already closing his eyes as he tightened his one arm around Dorian's chest, as if to both protect him and keep him firmly *there*. "'d better not be a dream."

Dorian laughed softly. "Are you telling me, Major, that you *don't* regularly dream of kissing me? A fine blow to my conceit, I'll tell you," he said teasingly as he kissed the other man's jaw.

Then felt the man shiver beneath that touch, whether in reaction, or simply because it had been done at all, Dorian could only guess. "You conceit needs a few blows... my pride's already been blown to hell..."

"I don't see it that way," Dorian told him. "Needing help is not the same thing as losing your pride, no matter what your early years drummed into you. And if it's *this* you feel has damaged your pride..." Here he kissed him again, just between the end of his jaw and the bottom of his ear. "I can make you forget all about it... truly I can."

A tense shudder now, and a quietly bitten back gasp left Klaus, a thrum of strange enjoyment sliding down his side and then over to his groin. "Dorian..." Was that a plea for the other man to stop, or a plea for more?

"I know it may be difficult, Major" the art thief whispered, "but just try to enjoy it..." Kisses again - behind his ear, just in front, and then the tiniest suckle on his earlobe and another small, pleasured sound from the Earl.

"It's too much," Klaus gasped, half-heartedly trying to stop the earl. Very half-heartedly. It was almost shaming to him that Dorian had found so quickly a spot that turned him to nothing more than putty. "Mein gott."

Dorian pulled back, panting a bit. "All right - sorry, I just got carried away... Why don't we just lie here for awhile? We don't have to do more than that."

Still, even with that suggestion, Klaus' heart was spiralling off on a race, lungs not far after that. "Gott... Nothing should feel so good."

"Why ever not?" Dorian said, genuinely surprised. "That's what sex is for!"

"Sex is for..." /It's a lie./ "I don't know."

"Sex is for pleasure," Dorian said. "And for fun."

"You would know." /And I wouldn't./ And Dorian... knew a lot, Klaus suspected. He'd probably been an active homosexual since before he was legal...

That made Dorian look at him. "Well, I guess - yes I do... does that bother you?"

"I've no right to be bothered." /Only that you've done this same thing with perhaps dozens of men... but you're entitled to, if it's your pleasure.../

"Sure you do," Dorian answered. "It's just I can't do anything about the past..."

Klaus was quiet for a moment, then murmured, "Are you clean?" He didn't have much experience at all, but he'd certainly read the papers in his lifetime...

Dorian nodded gravely. "I get checked every month or so, but... well it's been a while, if you know what I mean..." He felt his cheeks go scarlet.

To ever hear Dorian drifting off when he talked meant trouble of some sort, and Klaus opened his eyes to turn his head and look at the other man... to find him astonishingly close, and red-faced. "I don't' know what you mean."

"Well, since I've known you well... other men... haven't been nearly as attractive..."

"You've known me a long time," Klaus reminded him, as if to say 'and you certainly haven't gone without for so long'.

"I said since I've known you *well*," Dorian said, reaching up to tap foreheads with the Major. And it has been... a long time... at least in my sense of it."

"You've known me well for a year... two...?" Klaus asked, still astonished that Dorian would, well... forgo at all in the hopes of being with an unreachable goal...

"What can I say," Dorian said, blushing now. "I'm a hopeless romantic..."

"It's an... amazing gesture, for someone who..." Must miss the pleasures of the body -- oh, and if they were all as good and earth-shaking as Dorian's kisses...? What a thing to pass up?

"I pine very beautifully though," the Earl said, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Did I mention that one of my other reading interests is gothic romance?"

Green eyes slid shut slowly, though a slight smile curled at the edges of Klaus' lips. "I should have been able to guess that."

"Mmmm... predictable, am I?" the blond said, looking up and enjoying just watching Klaus's face. It hadn't really sunk in yet what they were doing, but it was paradise just being there, with him.

"To a point." Klaus shifted, stroking his hand against Dorian's side for a brief moment, before he let out a tired sigh. "Do you want under the blanket?"

"No, I'm fine. You look exhausted - why don't you just sleep for awhile? I'll stay here."

"I was planning on sleeping. I just..." he started to shift again, tugging some of the blanket out from under himself to toss it over Dorian. The effect it had was to remove the barrier between their clothed bodies, and let Klaus press closer.

Oh, heaven and more heaven! Dorian just hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself too much if Klaus really pressed close! "You feel so good, Major - so warm..."

"Warm...? I feel like I'm going to freeze," he sighed, sniffing to unclog his nose a little, before he settled against Dorian again. " 're like a heater."

Dorian laughed at that. "We'll keep each other warm, then." Then he added, almost shyly, "May I kiss you one more time?"

"Please."

Leaning forward, Dorian claimed that mouth once more, finding it softer, less tentative. "So very nice, Major..." he whispered when they broke apart.

Klaus' eyes had slitted open, and the German licked his lips very quickly, just the inner-most edges, as if to not loose any of that taste. Dorian's sparking, distinctive taste. "It's nice."

"Mmmm... very," the Earl purred. "But don't let me keep you awake..."

"I don't... think you could if you tried," Klaus mumbled vaguely, words barely enunciated as he buried his face against the thief's neck, and let himself drift away.

For a long time, Dorian lay and simply watched the man sleep. /You are a wonder, sir... to think that this was inside of you all that time... my beautiful man./

~~~~~

The past two days had moved almost in a blur.

Klaus had let Dorian out of his sight little, or had it been Dorian who hadn't let Klaus out of his sight...? Either way, the two, once dire enemies, Thief and Major, kept close, whether sleeping, eating or reading, despite Klaus' slowly regaining strength. And now, for the first time in weeks, Klaus was sitting in a room that wasn't part of the Castle at the North Downs. He was sitting in a small, almost rustic waiting room, with Dorian beside him.

"How are you doing, Major? Do you feel all right, being out here?" He was a bit worried, for this first trip out. He didn't want Klaus becoming anxious and losing any of the hard-fought ground he'd gained.

He was a bit on edge, that much could be seen; it had started when he'd first been told that Dorian was bringing him to his own doctor to be looked at, just a check-up. And that edge had only been soothed once Klaus had put on a gun, holstered neatly against the small of his back.

So he was sitting there mostly quietly, fingers of his right hand twitching with an urge to smoke, despite being in a waiting room.

"I'm doing fine, Dorian. It's all right." Even if it really wasn't.

"Mm hm," the blond said, looking at him dubiously. "You'll like Dr. Brisbin. He's very down-to-earth, very no-nonsense. Just your type." This last comment was made with a little knowing smile and a faintly teasing sideways glance.

"I think you'd know my type, if I have one at all," Klaus told him in a no-nonsense sort of tone. "This won't take long, will it?"

"No, I doubt it," his companion said. "I just want to be sure you're doing well - you know getting enough of what your body needs, keeping hydrated, all that sort of rot that only doctors really can tell you." He glanced over at the dark-haired man again. "Are you *very* put out about this?"

"It isn't as if I have anything else to be doing right now." And there wasn't -- except reading, sleeping and eating what he could stomach. But he still felt nervous to be out, knowing that if he ran into an agent from the other side, he was useless in a fray. Only his aim was still untouched by that near year of non-duty...

Dorian seemed to sense his anxiety. He looked at him closely and murmured, "You *will* be back at top form, you know. It will be hard work but I'll do anything I can for you. We'll work together and we'll get you back into top form."

Top form was still so far away! He used to be able to rush into a room, unstoppable as a tank, take out five or six of the best trained thugs, and move on without breaking a sweat. "I'm going to commandeer your pool this upcoming week."

"Oh, by all means," Dorian said brightly, and then added, "May I watch?"

"Lord Gloria?" said a briskly efficient voice. The nurse beckoned them to follow her and Dorian stood, discretely lending an arm to Klaus.

Not that Klaus could accept it discretely, but it was a good try all around. His charcoal suit was hanging quite perilously from his frame, hinting to the nurse at a severe and un-expected weight loss; it was a good, expensive suit, too. When they left and got back to the car, Klaus was going to have to thank Dorian for those gestures -- so helpful, and meaningful.

The got to the examining room and the nurse instructed Klaus to remove his jacket and shirt. She did an admirable job of not looking shocked at his thinness and took a blood pressure, pulse and temperature in just minutes. "Here's a blanket to keep you warm. The doctor will be with you shortly." Giving a nod to Dorian, she left.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" the Earl asked hopefully.

Klaus was moving, though, taking off his gun and setting it atop his shirt and jacket. Then he re-settled into the blanket, giving a tired sigh. "Not so bad so far. In NATO, they tend to stick you with as many thing as possible at once."

"Ah, the benefits of an English country doctor," Dorian said. "He won't do anything to you that doesn't absolutely need to be done. Bit of a stingy one, that way."

There was a discrete knock at the door and then Doctor Brisbin came in. He was in his 50s, with a solemn face and greying hair, and he approached Dorian with an outstretched hand. "Lord Gloria - good to see you again. Welcome, welcome... and this must be...?" He turned to Klaus, again with an outstretched hand.

"Mr. Eberbach, Doctor. A friend who has been staying with me."

Klaus took the offered hand, and shook it with a grip that spoke of faded strength. "Dr. Brisbin. Pleasure to meet you."

"Why don't you tell me about your condition, Mr. Eberbach. Lord Gloria has told me a few things but I'd like to hear about it from you, if you don't mind. What sort of shape were you in when you got to the Earl's estate and what measures did you take after that?"

Klaus leaned back casually, resting on the palms of his hands, finely corded muscles shifting far too visibly. "Better and worse shape. I believe I was stronger when I arrived, but I walk better now than before. I've just stopped cold on Methadone -- I was put on that once I was released, but for seven months I was kept on high doses of heroin."

The doctor nodded his head. "That's a very difficult position to be in and I would never recommend that anyone stop a methadone program without tapering, but as you may know," he said, peering at Klaus over the top of his glasses. "tapering methadone is much more difficult that tapering heroin itself. It can often take up to 12 months in some people. So, while I don't approve of your method, I can understand wanting to be done with it."

He took out his stethoscope and began listening to Klaus's heart. What kinds of symptoms did you go through? Diarrhea? Muscle cramps?"

"And vomiting, restlessness, delirium, hallucinations," Klaus told him, not moving while the doctor listened to his heart-beat. "I am not allowed to return to my job until I'm physically recovered. Another year is too long." Better to suffer though hell and then only have to wait another month or two more to get back into shape.

"When you're a bit stronger," the physician said, moving the scope slowly over Klaus's back, "I'd like you to have a cardiological check. Sometimes the stress of detoxification can damage cardiac tissue, so it would be wise to assess it." Putting his scope around his neck, he felt the German man's neck and then asked him to lie down on the exam table.

"How is your appetite coming?" he asked, palpating a too-thin abdomen.

There wasn't much to feel, other than knots of muscle that were thinned too much. "Better." Meaning that at least food was going in and staying down, but he couldn't manage much at a time yet. Klaus was hoping deeply that once he started to exercise again, his appetite would come back. Cardiological check? That would mean more time there than he wanted...

"I'd like you to start taking a calorie supplement," the doctor said, indicating he could sit up. "Come over here and get on the scale - we'll see how many pounds you need to put back on and I'll adjust the supplement schedule accordingly."

Klaus slid down from the table, walking with well-concentrated but still mostly smooth stride, to the scale, which he stepped up on carefully.

175 and a half.

"I used to weight 220."

Dorian paled a bit. He'd known that Klaus had lost a great deal of weight -but 45 pounds!

"Well, you've got a bit of an uphill climb," Dr. Brisbin said, ushering him back to the table, "but if you're diligent about your supplements and don't exercise too strenuously at the outset, you should be back up to that weight in two months time."

2 months... well, it was reasonable, and he knew he needed that long, at least, to recover enough to return fitly to work. "That's good news, then," he murmured, resettling on the table again, trying to hide the slight shiver from the cold.

"You can get dressed," the doctor said, distractedly, scribbling notes in a medical folder. "The nurse will come back and tell you about the supplement regime. You *must* keep to it if you want your weight to come back up - even if you don't feel hungry." He peered over at Dorian, sitting in one of the exam room's chairs. "* You* will see to that, I suppose?"

"I've never been a whiz at force feedings, Dr. Brisbin," he said, smiling, "but I'll do my best."

It wasn't like it would take much effort for Dorian to get Klaus to take it! The German man didn't give himself even as much of a glance as he shrugged back into his shirt, buttoning it up slowly and carefully, standing to tuck the tails into his too loose trousers. Then his gun went on again, then his jacket, barely aware of the doctor in the room -- he looked at Dorian with a 'can we go now' sort of look.

The doctor reached out a hand to the two men again and murmured something vague and bedside-mannerish, then excused himself. Immediately after he left, another nurse came in, this one small and brusque, with a packet of information on the supplement drink Klaus was to begin using and strict orders on how to use it. She stared hard at Klaus, seemed to determine he was not to be trusted, and thrust the information at Dorian. "See that he adheres to the regimen!" she said in a somewhat scolding tone and then left them there, alone.

"I think perhaps she missed her calling," Dorian murmured, looking after her. "She might have made a fine NATO agent..."

"KGB -- looks like Polar Bear," Klaus corrected as he pushed off from leaning on the edge of the table, and moved towards Dorian to use him partly for support. "Are we doing anything else today? This went quickly."

"I hadn't thought of anything else," Dorian said. "I wasn't sure what you'd be up to. I suppose we could take a walk through the town, or a drive around the downs. Or, I could take you home and force you to drink this no doubt terrible stuff and put you to bed."

"Since we're out already, let us do something. Whatever you would like." and that was reasonably within Klaus' easily exhausted abilities.

"We can take a drive, then," Dorian said as they walked to the front of the doctor's office. "There are some lovely ruins on the north end of the downs - St. Elred's Abby."

It was a brilliant combination of what they both enjoyed -- history combined with the artifacts and beauty that Dorian so treasured. "Yes. And then we'll go home and sleep." Home... for how long had he been thinking of the castle as 'home'?

"Sounds like an excellent plan," Dorian agreed, a bit of pleasant warmth passing through him at the thought of sleeping with Klaus. It was still just *sleeping*, nothing more, but it was still an incredible pleasure.

He led the way to the car and they set off on the North Downs road toward the ruin.

And someday, when Klaus was less exhausted, it would surely become more than just kissing and sleeping! Until then, he couldn't dare take advantage of Klaus' obviously weakened state.

"I was really expecting for the doctor to be slow and waste a lot of time."

"Oh, not my Dr. Brisbin," Dorian said, letting the Lamborghini speed up a bit to hug the curves of the road smoothly. "He's Scottish - very to-the-point and very efficient." He looked over at the Major and smiled. "He seemed very optimistic for your recovery," he said.

"I don't think there's any reason to be otherwise, now that I'm mostly over the Methadone." Not that he didn't still get the occasional twinge of want, or muscle spasm, but he was functioning well at last, and that was a wonder to him, still! "It's mostly from your care."

"Nonsense!" Dorian protested. "It wasn't *me* going through that agony for nearly three weeks! No, I claim very little of the credit - except for providing cool cloths and warm water."

"If I'd have gone to my apartment in Bonn, instead of come here to you, I'm sure I would have killed myself."

The blond frowned and cast the Major a sideways glance. "Surely you wouldn't have," he said more quietly. "You're far too strong a man for that sort of thing."

"I was, and I am now," Klaus agreed firmly. Yet during those weeks... no, he hadn't been. He clearly remembered begging Dorian to let him die, to kill him, anything at all... "You know I would have."

Dorian was silent for a moment and then said, "Then I'm very glad I was there to prevent you. I don't think I could have taken that kind of loss."

Klaus let out a tired sigh, and seemed to sink back into the comfortable leather seat. "I knew if I came to you, Dorian, you'd help me through whatever needed to be done." /Whatever still needs to be done./

"Yes, I'm selfish that way," the blond replied, turning his eyes back to the road and smiling to himself. "I'm afraid I'm rather like a pit bull when it comes to keeping people I care about around me."

"Or when trying to get what you want." /And trying, and trying.../ "I truthfully do not know how we will manage this when I return to duty."

"No... I haven't a clue either..." Dorian flickered his gaze over to Klaus. "But I do hope we can... somehow."

"I want to do this, Dorian. It's strange, and dangerous for us both..." But he was no stranger to danger at all, and Dorian knew what they were getting into.

"So... you don't consider it so much a danger that you would risk your career?" Dorian had to ask it, even though he wasn't at all sure he wanted to know the answer. "As much as I want this - well, you know I've wanted it for years... but even with wanting it that much, I didn't help you through this to see you lose the thing you love the most."

Of course it was a risk to his career...

"Germany and NATO have no policy concerning homosexual officers, for or against." There were other things to fear, though -- targeting, Dorian being attacked, discrimination -- though, he knew he'd never be promoted, so what did that matter?

"I'm not a fool - even though I play one many a time," Dorian said to him. "I know the realities of the situation, or at least *some* of them. "Are... are you sure about this?"

"I've known for a while that you're the only human being that has ever, or will ever, interest me this way, Dorian. The situation took out my pride long enough to let me admit it... and there is no turning back." Klaus wasn't looking ahead as he said it -- rather, at Dorian, turned a little to better look at the man driving.

"I... have to admit... I'm all astonishment, Major. You play the part of a queer hater very well... But I'm glad to know it was just an act."

There was quiet, and then Klaus tried to explain, even vaguely. "I detest idiocy and foolishness -- I lashed out at you most when you broke my concentration, shattered my nerves or risked a mission. I... suppose I am homophobic to a degree, which makes it hard to face that I want you as much as I do."

Dorian struggled to ignore the heat that sliced through him at those words. "You distracted me a time or two as well, Major. But of course, homophobia has never been a personality characteristic of mine. I guess I've always been 'out'..."

"How did you know...? Did it just strike you that... that was how you were?" Klaus asked in light curiosity.

"Well," Dorian said, looking thoughtful, "I suppose I just... started feeling attracted to people when most boys do, around 13 or so, and everyone I liked was another boy. I never did feel any attraction to girls."

"Was it easier for you, since your father was that way, too?"

"I suppose. It meant that I was raised without being told to hate homosexuals. Is that what you had, growing up?"

"I was told to follow the bible, as it was thought in Church. I was told to follow even if I didn't believe." Klaus let his gaze drift out the window for a moment as he walked.

"Hmm, I've never really understood that kind of belief" the blond man said. "At least my Father was a lapsed Anglican and it didn't really come up in our house. I can't imagine being told to obey rules I didn't believe in."

"I was brought up to never question what I was told," Klaus murmured. "I don't blame father for doing that. After my mother died, it was hard for him."

"So you were raised alone by your father, too?" Dorian asked.

"Mostly." There had been nannies and tutors, yet... yet they never remained long enough to attach to.

Deep blue eyes studied the German man briefly before flickering back to the road. "Was he terribly strict? I always imagine German fathers to be masters of discipline."

"I rebelled little in my youth. If he was strict, I never paid it much attention." Green eyed gaze drifted back to Dorian for a moment.

"Well, I suppose that's good then," the Earl said, turning a bend in the road and pointing. "That's St. Elred's - or at least what's left of it."

Up ahead on the right was a sweep of downs, with grass the color of emeralds. About 300 yards from the road the ruins of the abbey stood, gray and weathered, rising from the meadow of it's grounds like ancient ship. One could still see the vague traceries of an early Romanesque building, archways in tact, and outbuildings scattered around it.

"Shall we go have a walk there?" Dorian asked.

"I may have to lean on you," he warned, just out of perfunctory courtesy. Dorian didn't care, Klaus knew that much. "Was it simply abandoned at some point in it's existance...?"

"Taken over by the Normans and destroyed in the battle. No one restored it so it moldered away. I've always thought if a very beautiful place - though bittersweet, too."

"Beauty ruined by an unnecessary war..." Klaus got out of the car a bit unsteadily once Dorian parked it on the grass. "I wonder why it hasn't been restored in the present."

"It was too far gone, even long ago, for any real sort of restoration." Dorian stepped forward with a helpful arm and they headed toward the front archway. "And now... I think people like seeing it this way. I have to admit I do."

"But it's only a shadow of what it once was," Klaus mused as they walked from one open space into another.

"That's what's so wonderful about it," Dorian said, looking up as they went under the arch. "That means I can imagine all sorts of things happening here... solemn monks and candle smoke. The sounds of their chants... the hoof beats of horses..." He stopped and turned for a moment, as if looking up at a beautifully painted ceiling. "It must have been lovely!"

"You would have made a good renaissance man," Klaus murmured, almost to himself, but Dorian could hear him. He tried to see what the blonde saw -- but saw nothing. Only the half-cloudy sky above them.

There was a peal of laughter from the Earl. "Why do you think that?" he asked, still gazing up.

"You would belong there better than here -- to be in that time, when all of the things you adore were being created..."

"Mmm... perhaps," Dorian said, smiling. "But I'm a hedonist, too, and I think modern times are best for that."

"For indulging in your frivolous pleasures, I suppose," Klaus mused, shifting a little nearer to Dorian. "I still can't understand them, but I can appreciate them." Like silk sheets.

"And what frivolous pleasure have you come to appreciate most, Major?" Dorian teased, finally looking over at him.

"You." No tease in his voice at all. "You, in general. A perfectly frivolous pleasure."

Dorian folded his arms and half pouted, half smiled. "I suppose to a man like you I *am* frivolous. Perhaps that's why I'm so attracted to you - you seem completely different from me and yet in subtle ways, we have much in common."

"Nothing I can put a distinct finger on, but yes." Klaus shifted his hand from holding onto Dorian's fore-arm to sliding across his shoulders.

A little race of adrenaline went through the Englishman at the contact. "You really have to stop doing this, you know," he said softly, eyes drawn to Klaus's lips. They were so close, so soft... and he badly wanted their heat again. "A man's willpower only lasts so long..."

"No-one here knows who I am."

It was, from Klaus, the closest thing to 'go ahead', that Dorian would get.

"Then come here, lovely man, and let me kiss you." Leaning forward, Dorian claimed those lips he'd been craving and they did not disappoint. He felt as if he were falling, a long, long way down, uncaring whether or not he could get up again. The only thing real to him in this timeless place was the warm man in his arms, and he let the kiss linger as long as he could, savoring every press, every sigh.

They would, Klaus knew, soon progress past just kissing and holding. As soon as his strength would allow, probably, strength of mind and body. "Let's sit down, Dorian," was his almost breathless suggestion.

"Yes, of course," the blond said, also breathless, cheeks stained with color, unable to hide his desire. He led Klaus over the a low stone wall that stood within the main abbey compound and they sat. "So," he said, still trying to catch his breath. "Do you think you would have made a good monk?"

"A good monk?" Klaus startled -- Dorian always was a person for questions that came out of no-where. "No."

"Why not?" the Englishman asked. "You seem to have the discipline for it. That's really most of what made a successful monk I understand."

"I wouldn't have been allowed to go about armed, I doubt." He slid an arm around Dorian's waist, pulling him close. "And you would have made a horrible one."

"Oh *definitely!*" Dorian said with great pleasure. "I would have been the little postulant who slept with the Abbot and drove him wild." He winked over at Klaus.

"Are you trying to say that I would have been an abbot?" the hand against Dorian's side stroked gently, a habit that Klaus fell into sometimes. He was very much a man of routine, and he seemed to develop a new one for new things.

"Oh, I think you would have made an *excellent* abbot! You like being in charge and giving orders. You thrive on discipline. And I would have loved to drive you mad by flirting with you during prayers..." He leaned over again and gave Klaus's earlobe a tiny kiss, just for emphasis.

"Don't remind me about Church, Dorian," Klaus moaned unhappy, closing his eyes. "There is no hell possible to be worse than sitting through Easter Vigil during a Roman Catholic Latin mass."

"Poor dear," Dorian murmured, giving the inside of Klaus's ear a little lick. "Let me distract you from those terrible thoughts..."

The arm around him tightened as Klaus bit back a different sort of moan. "Dorian..."

A kiss was pressed just in back of the treasured ear, and then down his throat as Dorian's arms slid around him. "My beautiful Major... such a stranger to pleasure."

"You're changing that fast enough..." Still a relative stranger when compared to most -- but it wasn't his fault that Dorian concentrated on his weak spots of jaw, throat and ear. It was nearly all he could to to hold onto the other man as Dorian kept up the sweet barrage, leaving Klaus panting and hard as the wall they sat on.

"So sweet," the blond man murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Klaus's mouth. "And so very good a not letting any of it show." One hand came up and turned Klaus's head so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "I am in such awe of you, my dear man..."

"Why?" Not so obviously to the pleasure of it, obviously, else his eyes would have focused much faster.

"Because of your strength, and what it's allowed you to do... to go through. I couldn't have borne losing you, even if you'd continued to hate me for the rest of your life. You're amazing, Major, truly." Another long, lingering kiss prevented the dark-haired man from making an immediate comment.

That kiss thoroughly muddled whatever it may have been, too. Klaus' hand tangled into the curls at the nape of Dorian's neck, and he let out a quiet breath. "Allow me to try... on you..."

"Hmmm?" Dorian murmured, completely lost in the kiss.

Klaus pulled back for a moment, then shifted back in, to press a kiss against the edge of Dorian's jaw.

"Ohhh..." the Englishman sighed. "*That*..." Sweet fire spread from the places Klaus was kissing and Dorian's breathing was threatening to get away from him. "Oh, do that *again*," he pleaded, as his hands lingered on the Major's chest, smoothing, caressing.

Another kiss there, and then another just behind him, a steady stream of the tiny, careful presses, the hesitant nip of teeth at his earlobe, and then Klaus pulled back. "We're in too public a place... need to..."

"What?" Dorian said breathily, looking up at Klaus, his eyes nearly crossed with pleasure. "Oh, all right... shall we go back to the house?" /If I can walk properly to the car, that is./

"Or at least..." Klaus moved them now, down from teh low wall to just sit in the grass beneath it -- able to sit closer still, and unseen.

"*Oh,*" Dorian said, shocked and very pleased. "Oh, I see..." He claimed the man's mouth again, fingers tangling in dark hair, moaning just a bit at the sweetness of it.

Now Klaus had the support of the wall, against which he could rest his back -- it was easier to give in to kisses when there was a comfort in setting, even if it was to sit on damp grass with stone at his back. The stroke of fingers through his hair was still unfamiliar, but savored, just as much as he savored it when he ran his own fingers through Dorian's hair. Breaking the kiss, he managed, "I could do this... for hours..."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, nuzzling against his cheek. "Yes, as could I... you feel so incredibly good to touch."

"I... I will never say this didn't happen," Klaus said suddenly, unable to keep those words on the tip of his tongue there they so often stayed -- and then he surged forwards towards Dorian to take another kiss.

/Oh, sweet man... so new, so reserved and yet... so very passionate as well.../ The feeling of firmness behind the gesture nearly overwhelmed the blond. It felt so good to be desired, instead of only desiring, and he opened his mouth gently to the Major's kiss, wanting to feel the man inside of him and knowing this was the only way at the moment. His own tongue teased, urging Klaus's forward.

Blessedly, it did -- slipped in carefully, tangling and challenging Dorian's tongue on its own ground. Slick, tempting heat, and Klaus lost his control for the moment, moaning into his partner's mouth, trying to deepen it impossibly -- finally he pulled back, panting, a hand on either side of Dorian's perfect face.

For a long time, the two just stared at each other, each as though the other was a new, dazzling thing. Then finally Dorian felt he had to speak. "I... I love you, Major." he said simply.

"I.... know," Klaus spoke softly, trying to pull Dorian closer to him, despite his general lack of strength. "I... I think I do, too. You're so... much to take in...."

The Earl smiled at him. "Yes, I suppose I am," he said, shifting so close he was nearly in the other's lap. "I'll try not to frighten you too much..."

"You don't frighten me, Dorian. "Leaning back again, Klaus was glad that Dorian was barely any weight at all, resting against him. "We'll stay like this for a while, then go back home. I'm tired at last..."

Resting his head on Klaus's shoulder, Dorian couldn't help but smile a little. "Oh, dear - I've worn you out, poor man. Don't worry, though. I'll have you home and into bed for a good long nap in no time." /And for myself... I think a cold shower is in order... or maybe a hot bath and lots of fantasies./

As soon as he was stronger... Klaus turned his head to kiss Dorian' forehead. "You picked a good doctor to take me too -- I detest them in general. Thank you." Which was to say, he could be the worst patient a doctor had ever been near, and didn't get a chance to get near often. "Today's been good, if short."

"Too short?" Dorian smiled. "You don't look as if you'd want it much longer." He rose gracefully and held out his hands to Klaus, once more marveling at the fact that he could hold them now. "Up you go," he said gently.

Klaus used Dorian fully for support until he was up -- up, and standing nearly straight, before he slid an arm around the thief for better support. "Yes - let us head home now."

The walked to the car and Dorian got out his car blanket to tuck around Klaus before slipping into the driver's seat and speeding back down the highway. The car hugged every inch of the road and the man he loved more than anything was sitting next to him. On top of that, he'd just been very properly kissed. Life couldn't get much better than this.

Klaus looked drowsy as he sat there, silently taking in the scenery that zipped past them both. "I'm very sorry that I treated you like shit for so long."

Dorian's glance flickered over to the man beside him. "Well, I didn't exactly invite your best behavior, did I?" he asked. "And there was a lot of just bad luck that we kept running into each other - and at the worst possible times..."

"I doubt it was luck." He knew, even if Dorian never would admit to it, that the thief had often orchestrated things so that they would meet. "I... know that I have passed down opportunities to work with some of your colleagues in favor of working with you."

"You did?" Dorian said, mildly surprised. "Who, for instance?"

"Corquan." Another strange pseudonym, used by a notorious American thief that was often used by the FBI and CIA for their work. Certainly just as reputable as Dorian, without the flaw of being occasionally hysterical or putting artistic goals above those of the organization he worked with.

"Hmm, that *must* have been a sacrifice for you," Dorian mused. He seems much more your type. All business, what?" He laughed softly. "I have to wonder what in God's name you see in me, Major."

If he expected a reply of stunning adjectives, he should have known that Klaus would not be able to manage that for a while, if ever. "I often wonder why you pursued me. We're opposing forces. But I know I could never stand to be around someone that was just like I am." What a depressing prospective that was...

Dorian smiled out at the road. "Opposites attract, eh? I suppose *that's* why we've been trying to kill each all these years... or at least irritate the hell out of each other!" He glanced over again at the stern face of the man in the passenger seat. "And I know I've done more than my share of that, and I apologize as well."

A slight smile flickered over Klaus's face, an occurrence that was happening more and more, those little gleams of joy, during simple conversation between them both. "You've made a great deal of my days an enjoyable challenge, too."

Another laugh from the Englishman. "Oh, were *both* good at that, I think - making things challenging for each other... like that time in Copenhagen, when you kept calling my crush, 'Mr. Tights!'"

"That Danseur," Klaus groaned. "That entire fucking mission...." Had been a nightmare beyond compare. "He deserved the name."

"He was just a boy, really," the Earl protested. "Didn't know anything, a complete innocent. Too innocent, in fact..." Dorian's voice trailed off and his smile was bittersweet.

"I'd thought you were attracted to innocence."

"Oh, up to a point," Dorian said, "but when you have to lead them along by the *nose* to just understand what you want to do... well, perhaps my tastes have changed. I think it all started with Caesar - remember him?"

"I wish I didn't," Klaus muttered, slouching a little in the seat. "Fucking pain, that boy. We never did draw any real conclusion about him."

"Well I hope he found his little friends and then went away to start a psychic reading shop." He pulled the car into the drive at the castle and sat for a moment. "I mean, at first I thought he was adorable... until you came into the picture. Then he didn't have a chance. That *and* he started getting seriously on everyone's nerves, I understand."

"Mine, the Alphabet's, my butler's, your men..." Everyone. Klaus realized only in retrospect that he'd seemed a little jealosly unhappy about the boy, even during his first meeting with Dorian. Why a man like that would want a whiny wimp like Caesar... The German shifted, pulling himself free of seat-belt and the warming blanket.

Dorian got out and was at his door in an instant, giving him a hand out of the low-slung car. "Remember though," he said, almost as if reading Klaus's mind, "I told him you could give him some lessons in being manly..."

He pulled Klaus close for a brief moment, regarding him with large, blue eyes. "You're still the best at that, you know..."

"I think that you're wrong."

Dorian could feel Klaus sway unsteadily for a moment, before finding his ground again, needing the Earl for support.

"When I am better.."

Dorian held him firmly and led him up the steps. "What *I'm* talking about doesn't have anything to do whether your ill or not - it's something deeper inside." Bonham stepped up to help but Dorian waved him away. "And whatever it is," he whispered so only Klaus could hear, "it's *very* sexy."

Perhaps it was Klaus' stoicness, or his sense of honour and fair play, or his dedication to helping others in the ways he could, willing to sacrifice himself for the lives of other officials and agents...

But Klaus didn't reply -- sometimes, Dorian left him utterly speechless, and this was a time for that. "Will you rest with me...?"

"Of course, if you like," the Englishman replied. He led them to the elevator and they rode upstairs in silence. Once in the room, Dorian helped the tired man out of his clothing and into bed. "I just have to make a quick phone call and then I'll lie down as well," he murmured, crossing the room and picking up the telephone, his back to Klaus.

Klaus half shrugged on his pajama top, and then slid underneath the sheets, closing his eyes already. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it was nearly impossible with the thief having conversation right in the room with him there...

"Hello - Eroica here," Dorian said into the phone. There was a pause, and he murmured, "Yes, I wanted to thank you for the information *and* the lovely gift you sent... yes of course, and ordinarily I would jump at the chance, but... this time, I think I'll pass." He ran his fingers absently through his hair, twisting one of the curls near his face in his habitual gesture. "Sorry, no - but thank you again. I look forward to talking at a later date... Yes, goodbye."

Turning back towards the bed, he began to undress, rather lazily. "Still awake?" he asked.

"Barely... W'o was that...?" Klaus mumbled, opening heavy lidded eyes with great effort, to look and watch Dorian undress. So very beautiful to watch, something Klaus could just now admit. The thief's grace was unparalleled by any...

"It doesn't matter," Dorian said, sliding in beside him. "Have a good rest, Major," he murmured, moving close, but not too close.

Klaus was always the one left to deepen contact, if he wanted to do so -- sometimes Klaus did, sometimes he didn't. Tonight, though, he slid an arm over Dorian. "What would you jump at...?" A robbery?

Truthfully, the idea that it was someone trying to make a pass at Dorian never crossed the Major's mind.

"Oh, just a little heist suggested by an admirer," Dorian said happily, resting his head on Klaus's shoulder.

"You'd turn that down for me...? To.. be with me....?" Tired, Klaus's defenses were low enough to gain a very clear delight from that fact.

"Of course," Dorian said, surprised. "I'd even turn down the Man in Purple for you and I don't say that lightly." He gave the man a small kiss on edge of his jaw.

"I should give it to you for a Christmas gift..." Quiet mumble of words, fading English as Klaus bundled himself closer to Dorian, and Dorian closer to him.

"Sleep well, Major," the Earl sighed, body aching to do more and knowing it just wasn't possible yet.

***

The Music room, Klaus could admit, was a lovely room.

Light furnished and tastefully decorated, the music Dorian had on was certainly background music -- that blended beautifully with the hard patter of the rain-storm outside. Better still, though he was hard pressed to admit it, was the love-seat just in front of a large bay window. There was always something about storms that made Klaus relax more, and this was no exception. He was reading a good book, with Dorian curled up against him.

"Mmm... you feel so good, Major," Dorian purred. "Better than a cup of hot tea on a rainy day..."

There was a blanket half around their backs, a ward against the chill of the glass behind him. "It rains enough in England, doesn't it?"

"It *does*," the thief agreed. "I remember *weeks* going by when I was a child - no sun in sight, but it does make the place a lovely green color. I could never live in the desert."

"Really? I thought it was a place you considered romantic..." Not that Klaus did -- he preferred rain and forests much more than sand and that choking heat.

"Oh, of course it's *romantic*," Dorian said, curling a little closer, "but for living day to day... hmm, I'd miss my trees and lawns too much."

"I bet that you would." He'd managed to read six chapters, and for his concentration's redevelopment, that spoke wonders. Doing a little better physically, far better mentally... The book was closed slowly, as Klaus half turned to look at the rain sodden property Dorian referred to. "You mean, you would miss not seeing through the rain."

"Rainy afternoons have their own virtues, you know," Dorian said lazily. "Nothing but the rain to listen to... all the time in the world..."

"All the time in the world....? How does a rainy afternoon do that?" Klaus teased very gently, shifting in the comfortable love-seat to rest his back against the padded arm, pulling Dorian against him again.

"Well," Dorian explained, "it's all muck and mud outside, so you don't feel obliged to go anywhere, and it makes the day feel lazy, so you don't feel guilty about not doing things at home." He smiled to himself and softly kissed Klaus's throat. "Instant free time..."

"That's why you British don't have an empire anymore, you know," Klaus breathed, letting his head fall back a little. "Dorian... *oh*."

"Silly things, empires," the Earl murmured, pressing more kisses to the Major's square jaw. "I think the problem with men who try to get empires is that they don't get enough... affection."

Dorian's soft lips could feel muscles twitch and jump beneath their tender movements, Klaus open his mouth just enough to exhale a breath of delight. "Your affection... is overwhelming... in the best ways..."

"That's because I want *this* particular soldier to stay home for awhile," Dorian breathed, kissing gently at the corner of the German man's mouth. He looked into Klaus's eyes and whispered. "You will stay for awhile, won't you soldier?"

"We have all the time in the world, don't we?" A need in those eyes, a want to tell Dorian something that Klaus was nearly incapable of saying, was dancing there in grey-green eyes when Klaus looked back. "None of your men will come here, will they?"

Dorian smiled a little mischievously. "No... I gave them the afternoon off." He let his fingertips trail over Klaus's face, lingering on the warm lips. "You are such an amazing man, Major," he breathed softly.

"You predict well," Klaus praised as he kissed those exploring fingertips for a moment. "You're everything I've ever wanted in a person, Dorian."

"And you..." Dorian searched the other man's eyes. "You take my breath away when you say things like that."

Looking up sincerely at the blonde, Klaus could only swallow, wondering if that was questioning or doubt in Dorian's eyes. "It's truth."

"That's what I keep saying to myself," the Earl replied, brushing dark bangs out of Klaus's eyes. "I keep expecting to wake up and find everything the way it was, but... I so glad every morning when I find it isn't."

"That would be a nightmare, for this to have all been a dream." Klaus sat up in a way that wouldn't dislodge Dorian, and pulling him closer. "It would kill me inside..." Or, finish the job.

"None of that!" the thief said, putting a finger near the Major's nose. "We've worked too hard, I've told you. Now... are you going to kiss me or not?"

Daringly, Klaus asked his companion, "And if i don't kiss you, Dorian....?"

"You will have a very disappointed Englishman on your hands," Dorian said, nodding his head gravely. "Not a pretty sight, I'll have you know."

"And if I do?"

"Then I shall make you a happy man indeed," Dorian breathed, staring into his eyes.

Klaus leaned minutely to press a ghost of a kiss agianst Dorian's mouth, and then another, slow, tender rubs of mouth to mouth, passes of pleasure. "And you? Will you be happy?"

"Oh yes," the blond man sighed. "I will be a very happy man..." He leaned forward, into the kiss, deepening it a bit, fighting off the urge to tear the man's clothing off. "Mmm... my beautiful Major..."

A downright lie in Klaus' eyes, but Dorian said that so often -- yet, how could he bee talking about the hollow-cheeked, dark-eyed... "No, you are... If I keep kissing you, will you still be so happy?"

There was a small smile from the thief. "Why do keep asking?"

"Because I want a hand in your happiness." And then Dorian felt a hand tangle tenderly into his hair, dragging him back down reclining to be better kissed by Klaus.

"Then believe me when i say that you are the primary source of my happiness, Major." The words were whispered against warm lips, and Dorian opened his mouth to the man beside him, loving the feeling of tongue against tongue, and running his hands up Klaus's arms and then down his back, a softly insistent caress.

Like standing out in a rain-storm, with the staccato beat of droplets against his skin. Dorian never wavered or stopped in touch; he just shifted intensity. /I need this, I've needed this, to feel loved.../ And worshipped by the blonde man, though he'd always felt as if put unreasonably on a pedestal. Now he could finally worship in turn. He let his tongue caress the roof of Dorian's mouth, tangling with sweet, slick heat while he shifted to make better contact with Dorian's body.

Klaus's press forward urged the Englishman to do the same, pressing against the dark-haired man and giving out a soft moan of pleasure at the feel of it - touching from lips to toes. He fitted himself the rest of the way against Klaus and deepened the kiss, hands still roaming gently over the other man's body. "Oh, Major... so very good..."

"Dorian... you can..." Do anything he wanted, in that moment! Klaus was willing, to learn and soak in whatever pleasures Dorian was offering! Another shift, and he was able to uncurl his legs from under Dorian, hitching the thief to sit atop his hips -- it let Klaus look at Dorian better, to see the full length of the man when he was in pleasure. "Beautiful."

Dorian sat back, panting a little, and ran his eyes over Klaus. "What a feast you are, Major," he whispered, and ran his hands over Klaus's chest. He caressed his shoulders and belly, then moved up to graze his fingers over the nipples he knew were under the shirt. "Mmmm... so pretty, these."

Little bits of flesh that quickly stiffened beneath Dorian's caress, making Klaus pant out, shivering. "Not pretty..."

"Oh, *very* pretty, indeed," Dorian said, leaning over to kiss each one through the fabric of Klaus's shirt. "Does it feel good?" he breathed, giving one a little nip.

As if the gasping breaths alone didn't say enough. Klaus arched for more, trying to not loose the contact of Dorian's mouth yet wanting to just give up and remove his shirt all together. But that would mean loosing contact with the wonder of Dorian's touch... "good. Very good. I want... you..."

"Mmm yes, I want you, too," Dorian purred, now licking at the stiff nubs through the fabric, while his hands pulled the shirt from Klaus's waistband. "So responsive, Major... I would have never guessed..."

"Never done this... enjoyed it... ach, Dorian..." Grey-green eyes had closed tight, Klaus' lips parting to breath out in a thin moan. It was really all that he could do to keep his hands on the thief's back, steadying himself and keeping Dorian close.

"Then we have quite a lot of time to make up for," the Earl said and bent his head to one of the turgid nipple, beginning to suckle it through the wet cotton. The shaft between his legs had gone rock hard at the mere thought of what he was doing and without thought he pressed his hips gently but firmly against the German's. "Mmmmmn..."

Never, never before had Klaus ever felt another man's erection press against him, nor between his legs and against his own hard cock the way that Dorian's was. A noise of shock let him, startled beyond belief, and then as he realized it was a good intensity that had sung through his veins, hissed breaths as he tried to keep the pressure just as it was.

Dorian's hands had made short work of the buttons on Klaus's shirt, laying bare his chest and allow the blond man to kiss the nipples themselves. Long, slender fingers trailed over the pale skin, warming it with their touch as Dorian pressed his hips forward again, beginning a slow, sultry rhythm, and began to suckle in earnest.

Beneath his touch, he could feel Klaus' ribs, almost trying to heave free of his chest as he drew in startled, pleasured breaths and exhaled in tightly restrained delight. "Dorian... ahh, Dor... rian, please..." Not begging, but it was distinct words and sounds the English man could make out of the babble of exclamations Klaus was making while Dorian tortured him with pleasure.

"Oh, my beautiful man..." The whisper came as Dorian began to kiss his way upwards, letting his fingers take over plucking gently at Klaus's nipples. He pressed soft, open-mouth kisses along the dark-haired man's shoulders and jaw, then fixed on one of the sensitive earlobes, suckling gently. And as all this was happening, Dorian wriggled a bit until Klaus's prominent erection was pressing up against his bottom. "Mmm... sweet Major... you feel like heaven..."

Klaus was suddenly drowning.

He was drowning in the severity and unfamiliarity of Dorian's touch. And it was a wonder that he never wanted to escape and feared it all at once. Arms clutched tightly at Dorian, gasps sounding against Dorian's cheek as he played the most sensitive nerves in Klaus' body, those spots that made him shiver uncontrollably. "Yes..."

Dorian noticed the tight clench of his companion's hands. "Ah - am I going too fast for you?" he said, breathing heavily in Klaus's ear. He sat back, still straddling the man below him, panting softly. "I'm sorry. It just felt so good."

Hands slid from gripping Dorian's back to resting on his hips, and Klaus could only swallow and nod to Dorian -- yes, it was good, and yes, it was too much yet. "I... I am sorry. I..." Klaus always sounded so strange when he apologized, and this was no exception -- he was not a man made for apologizing, yet he felt he should. "You're a wonder."

"Too much of one, it seems," Dorian replied, smiling faintly and stepping off of the loveseat, kneeling on the floor below. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said softly, "it's just that you feel exquisite to touch, and it's difficult to stop once... well, you must know what I'm talking about."

Touch, warming and wonderful, left too quickly, and he frowned for a brief moment until Dorian knelt -- it gave him a chance to still keep the man close, sliding an arm around Dorian's shoulders. "It wasn't uncomfortable -- it was good. I... am still getting used to everything, but it all feels so good, and I can feel... everything of you through it." Love, need, passion unrestrained...

"I think I'm frightening you a bit, though," Dorian mused, his hands threading through dark, silky hair. "After all, you've never been with another man, if everything you've indicated over the past 10 years is true." He gazed into green eyes like forest pools and asked, "Is it *very* different from being with a woman. Only I've never been with one, you see."

Klaus' gaze was frank and clear to read as he looked at Dorian. "Women are... I've never enjoyed being with one."

"Why not?" Dorian asked, also frankly. "I've heard they're supposed to be incredible for most men."

"I've heard the same thing," Klaus murmured after a moment of thought, eyes closing slowly. "You've heard it, why didn't you try it?"

"Like I said, I knew it was men from the first time I felt anything that way. Never a doubt," Dorian said.

"'n you were lucky," Klaus murmured softly, shifting his hand slowly down Dorian's back. "I tried women because I was expected to. The first was bad, maybe a second? I didn't realize it was me."

"I'm sure they were thrilled with you, though," the blond said warmly, arching to the touch like a cat. "Anyone would be."

"'m not interested in ever touching a woman like that again," Klaus told him in a lazy, slightly smiled tone. "Better you and a good rain."

Dorian smiled brilliantly at him. "I told you rainy days had their virtues... or perhaps I should have said 'vices.'" He trailed his hand along Klaus's chest, fingers lightly moving upwards, until they caressed the lean face and ghosted over lips bruised with kisses. "My beautiful man..."

"Won't ever believe that," Klaus sighed contentedly; had he looked healthier, he would have been the perfect picture of what debauchery could do to a man -- skin reddened with kisses and nips, lips darkened from Dorian's mouth, hair mused. "But I'll be yours."

Lifting one of Klaus's hands with both of his own, Dorian kissed his fingertips and murmured, "You don't realize what you do to me when you say things like that."

"I don't?" Klaus seemed a little amused as he carefully pulled his hand free, to rest it on Dorian's cheek, touching soft, soft skin. The thief was ageing beautifully -- a few wrinkles, but he seemed as vibrant as he'd been the day he'd stolen Klaus' Leopard tank. "Why not?"

"I don't know," the Earl demurred, and then said in a voice like a whisper, "perhaps because I've wanted you for so long. I know I've gotten fond of other men, and I know I've made your life a perfect hell at times, but it was still there." He was staring down at the fabric of the loveseat, the back of one finger tracing Klaus's hand on his face. "Just never thought it would happen..."

"'m a little suprised, myself," Klaus admitted, as if it wasn't a perfectly clear reality to them both! "Just don't tell me about these other men. ' Might have to go beat them up or something."

"The thief looked extremely pleased. "Would you really? How wonderful!"

"Once I'm better, ja," Klaus smiled, pulling Dorian close suddenly, burying his face into golden curls of hair that he secretly adored to touch. "Thank you..."

Dorian's hand came up to caress the back of Klaus's head. "You're welcome... but, what for?"

"Having waited."

Another blissful smile from the Englishman. "I couldn't really do anything else." Then he gave him a wink. "You wouldn't let me."

"I wouldn't let you?" Now, Klaus truly wondered on that one -- how had he not let Dorian do *anything* except screw with missions, and the man had still done that relentlessly!

"No, you wouldn't," Dorian said, nearly grinning at him. "You kept running away and sicking the alphabets on me. Or cursing at me - that was also a favorite pastime of yours. All *very* adorable, but made it rather difficult for a man to do any kind of serious flirtation."

"'s that so?" He couldn't help but smile to himself as he nuzzled a little against Dorian's cheek. "Why not that Danseur?"

"What do you mean?" the Earl asked, kissing just in front of Klaus's ear.

He could feel Klaus shiver minutely before he answered, "You were fawning over him. Was that just to make me jealous?"

Dorian looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps a bit... but he was very cute, in a boyish way. Very different from you, of course."

"Huh." Klaus never thought of people in terms of cute or not -- cute was used to describe children! "'m glad you didn't see any me in him."

The Englishman gave a laugh. "Not likely, given you two are polar opposites! But you can be cute, too. Like when you get near certain types of machinery, you look like a little boy - all delighted and jumpy."

"I do not," Klaus denied, while trying to not think of any of the examples that sprang immeadiately to mind -- his tank, the grenade launcher, the Mig25... "You do the same thing with art work."

"Guilty as charged," Dorian said smoothly, turning to kiss the inside of Klaus's palm. "What a pair we make."

"Two strange obsessives," Klaus agreed. "'s good to be able to do more than sit in bed all the time."

"You'll soon be doing much more than that," Dorian murmured. "And then what will I do without you?"

Klaus fell quiet, as he had before when that subject came up -- because he really didn't know what to do. "It's a while away."

"Yes, I suppose we shouldn't bother with it now." He looked into Klaus's eyes. "You've probably missed it terribly, haven't you?" he asked. "Someone like you, who's used to action. Another kiss was pressed into that warm palm.

"I've proabaly lost my edge. A year... 's a long time," he sighed. "Get back up here before my arm cricks."

"Oh," Dorian breathed. "You want me up there, do you?" His movements were panther-like, all grace and fluidity and soon he was fitted against Klaus like a second skin. "This close enough?" he whispered, tracing a hand down the man's back and ghosting over the tight buttocks.

"Yeah." Klaus' breathed agreement was decidedly a pleased one as he slid still too thin arms around Dorian and held him close. "Dorian... I'll do my best to not lose you."

"You'll do your best," Dorian murmured, lips against Klaus's, "to take care of yourself and stay alive. I'll take care of the other. Deal?"

"'ve always done a good job of hanging on," Klaus informed him. "I'll get back to Germany alive and kicking, yet."

"I know you will," Dorian said, trying not to think about Klaus in Germany and himself in England. "To do anything less just wouldn't be my Major, would it?"

"Doubt it." Klaus kissed Dorian, a brief brushing of lip to lip, before he added, "I'll drag you with me."

Dorian looked very amused. "You will?" he asked. "But what would the Chief say?" He tried to look very skeptical, kissing the Major back lightly, and added with a raised eyebrow, "What would Agent G say?"

"I don't care what my fucking chief says. And G can go jump off a god-damned bridge." There -- summed up by the Klaus of years ago, meeting the new Klaus halfway as he kissed Dorian again, deeper now.

"Mmmm... that's my man," Dorian managed to get out before letting himself fall into the kiss, a gentle sparring of tongues and delicious exploration of the other man's softness and heat.

A comfortable thing that Klaus was loathe to break. "'s just stay here for the rest of the day. Your men coming back at all?"

"If they do, they won't bother us if the door is closed," Dorian said in between kisses. "Don't worry, Major - no one will disturb us, I promise."

Paranoia, even when so far from his duty, was a hard thing to shake for Klaus. "Good. I want to enjoy having you with me today, at least until I fall 'sleep."

"Which you're on the verge of doing, good sir," Dorian whispered, then tucked his head under Klaus's chin. "Sleep well, sweet man. I'll be here when you wake."