The Curse of the Eberbachs

Dorian had to smile. There was simply only one word to be used for the Major's current behaviour. Klaus swaggered. Oh yes. You knew we couldn't do it without you and you were right. Of course you're swaggering, you proud thing, you. And how happy you look. It feels good to see you so happy. Not to mention that a swaggering Klaus was just about the cutest thing Dorian had seen – ever.

He sat in a corner of the warehouse, watching the surrounding activity. The mission had gone well – or at least for most part. A bit of distraction by Dorian's men here, a bit of sleeping gas there and then the Alphabet to take care of the result. A rather good co-operation, all things considered. Too bad we're normally not working for the same goal. Together we could ... do anything we ever wanted, I suppose.

Only they hadn't found Mr Retty. Not at first. They had looked everywhere in the warehouse, with no success. Until Klaus had hooked his teeth into the arm of Dorian's cat suit (the black outfit, sans the ruffles, served as official evening clothes) and pulled him along to a seemingly innocent wall. A few whispered words had Dorian looking for a secret entrance, which soon enough yielded to the thief's superior skill. Unfortunately, the area within hadn't been permeated with the sleeping gas and only Klaus's quick reflexes had saved Dorian from an early grave. Retty had been found. Mostly unharmed too, just a little roughed up.

Klaus, who had sniffed around the other parts of the area, came back to him, still holding his head high and lifting his paws proudly. Dorian welcomed him with a smile. "Hello there, my brave hero," he said.

The dog glanced around, then rose on his hind legs and leaned his front paws on the big box Dorian sat on. Bringing his snout to Dorian's ear, he grumbled, "When we get back to North Downs I want you to help me brush my teeth."

Dorian couldn't help but to giggle. "I'll do you better than that. Nothing's too good for my knight in ... shining pelt. We'll stop by my London apartment before going back. And I'm sure there's a club open somewhere – no, don't look at me like that. I'm not suggesting that we go partying. As I was going to say, I'll get you some ox filet or something. You've certainly deserved it. That should get the taste out of your mouth."

"He certainly smelled as if he hadn't. Darling ... should we worry about rabies, you think? Have you had your shots yet? Should I take you to a V-E-T-E-R-I-N-A-R-I-A-N?"

The Doberman glared at him. "Don't be an idiot! Of course not! I don't have rabies!"

"I was actually thinking about the Ruskie, oh love of mine. He did look rather ... disturbed." Then Dorian giggled again, feeling a little drunk on simply being alive.