The Curse of the Eberbachs

"You," Klaus said with great determination, "are an idiot." Then he snorted as if in sudden mirth. "You sound silly barking like a dog."

Dorian laughed happily and scratched Klaus behind the ears, earning himself a snap of the strong jaws – though the teeth never touched him. "Never you mind," he said, "Now on your back, my dear." Words he had wanted to say before, if not exactly in a circumstance like this one.

Dorian would never say as much, but he thought Klaus looked absolutely adorable with his lips pulled back as he growled, "Why would I? I'm not showing you my belly!"

Amused by the other's suspicion, Dorian reached over the bared teeth and smacked the dog – though very, very gently - on the head with two fingers. "On your side then, you proud beast. I'll take care of your poor paws and the rest of you too. You'll see, this salve of Bonham's, it's pure magic. You'll feel better in a heartbeat."

Klaus snorted and, with obvious reluctance, laid down with his paws hanging over the sofa's side. Dorian got the little jar and sat on the floor, so that he could start to massage the salve onto the sores and blisters on the paws before moving on to the scratches and the bite on the flank. "I've been wanting to use this on you for a long time, you know, my dear. Never imagined it this way, though."

"Of course not, darling. Now, this Doberman thing? It is a new thing, I take it? You've never done this before?"

The dog huffed. "Of course not! This is ridiculous! Grown men don't turn into dogs!"

"No, darling. Though I have known several that I wouldn't hesitate to call dogs for all that they walked on two legs. However, and do forgive me for pointing out the obvious, you do seem to have a rather ... canine shape at the moment. My, what big paws you have, though. Say, does this feel any better?"

"It didn't hurt before either, it's you who insisted on this, you fop. Mischa is behind this, I know he is."

"We haven't heard about it, but they must. Or the damned Yanks. Or perhaps your frigging M16!"

"I suppose the KGB are the most suspect ones, since you're on a mission to thwart them now?"

Dorian couldn't resist a quick pat to the reddish stomach and deftly avoided another bite. "Ai haf mai vays, darling. Now, are you sure it is one of those abbreviation organisations that's done it?" A thought occurred to him. "You haven't been bit by a wolf under the full moon or something?"

"Nein! There's no such thing as lycanthrophy! Besides, the moon is all wrong and if you haven't noticed, it's daytime now and I. Have. Not. Changed. Back!" He made a frustrated sound. "And don't call me that either."

"Of course not, my love. So, did you eat anything out of the ordinary yesterday? Or did you do anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nein. We ate at a restaurant, chosen at random. One of those chains, almost American. Damn Limeys, if you must import foreign food, why not good German food?"

Dorian let the insult slip, as he always did. "Well, since none of your Alphabets are affected I suppose we can rule that out. Ah ... Klaus, my love, none of your Alphabets are affected, are they?"

"I only spoke to Z, and just briefly. He sounded like himself, though I guess he might have faked it. The others ... I don't know." He started to get up.

Dorian, who had moved to Klaus's front paws, firmly pushed him back down again. "I'll send one of my men to make sure. Don't worry about it now, my love."

There must be something. Things like this just don't happen. It's like something out of a fairytale ... like magic ... Hmm ... "I wouldn't dream of it, handsome. Now, was there anything at all out of the ordinary yesterday or last night?"

The dog's head flew up and he got a haunted look. "Nein! Nothing at all happened! I didn't dream about—Ah ... I did dream something. There were ... wolves? And a dog."

"Something bigger. I don't know. They were running in the snow, I don't remember anything else."

"Okay, handsome. I'm glad you're not a Golden Retriever, though. A Doberman is just ... so very you." Dorian giggled at the very thought of Klaus as a Golden Retriever. "Cropped tail and ears and all. I wonder why, though? They're not born that way, you know. Anyway, there, that's your last paw. All better now?"

Klaus quickly got up to a sitting position, then lay down on his belly so that they were eye to eye. He inspected his right paw visually, then sniffed. His ears went back and he sniffed again. Then he glared accusingly. "Lord Gloria - why do my paws smell of strawberry?"