The Curse of the Eberbachs

The sun set over North Downs, creating a spectacular variety of colours in the sky. A brief rain during the afternoon had left the air fresh and humid. Klaus had taken one last, quick run through the garden – though he kept within the close vicinity so he wouldn't run into the neighbour's bitch again. He had relieved himself, taking care to lift his leg at several trees circling the castle, so that any intruder would know who was in charge there. Now he waited for the fop to give the final instructions to his men, before they could leave.

Waiting, waiting, waiting ... I'm always waiting for him. They should already know this stuff – no need to tell them again. We're wasting time! And I can't even have a smoke while I'm waiting!

He barked once, to remind the thief that they needed to go. Dorian waved at him. Annoyed, Klaus trotted over to the bright purple Lamborghini. It had gold details. For once, he actually felt grateful for being in dog shape – he wouldn't have wanted to be seen going in such a car of his own free will. That pimpmobile in Rome was bad enough.

Eyeing the door-handle speculatively he judged that he probably would be able to open it with his teeth, but that he had better wait for Dorian since they were still in sight of the other thieves. A quick glance over his shoulders showed him that the Earl had backed off a step from his men, which presumably meant that he was almost done. On turning back, Klaus happened to glance inside the car. Then he quickly rushed over to the other side, feeling a little stupid – of course the Lamborghini was a British model, with a right-side steering wheel. Hopefully the fop hadn't seen him standing there like an idiot, expecting to get to sit in the driver's seat!

Through the windows he saw Dorian finally leave his men and jog up to the car. The thief had changed clothes to a relatively more presentable outfit – still with an outrageous amount of ruffles, but at least a sedate black. "There," he said. "All taken care off." He quickly opened the passenger seat door and Klaus jumped in, settling a little awkwardly in the seat not quite designed for canine bodies. Moments later Dorian sat beside him and buckled himself in. Then they were off. Not for long though. As soon as they were out of range from eyes spying from the castle, Dorian stopped the car again and began fiddling with a black bag he carried. To Klaus it looked suspiciously like a lady's handbag.

Still with his hand in the bag, Dorian turned towards him and smiled. Not the bright "Hello, Handsome!"-smile or even the "You just foiled my plans again, but I'm still happy to see you,"-smile, but one that rather alarmingly reminded Klaus of Dorian's "Yes, I did steal the Pope, but I didn't mean to cause any trouble"- smile. While Klaus would claim indifference to most of Eroica's expressions, that was one he patently did not want to see.

"Klaus, darling ... I'm not sure if we'll have time later, so I better do this now."

"Well, you see ... With you being ... canine at the moment, and such ... First of all ... I will have to treat you like a dog. You do know the commands that a dog should follow, right?"

"Of course I do! I'm not stupid! Just don't treat me like a bloody lap dog! Don't coo or try to make me do tricks or whatever!"

Dorian quickly shook his head. "No, no, no, my love, I would never do that. Ah ... Good. And then ... You see ... With being a dog owner – and I'm supposed to be your owner, at least as far as they all know – come certain responsibilities. Do you ... know what I'm saying?"

The only things Klaus knew was that there was something fishy going on and that he was fairly sure he wouldn't like whatever the fop had dreamed up. "No."

"Well, we don't want the dog catcher to try to capture you, now do we? So ... you'll have to wear a dog tag. And ... well ... if you need to wear a dog tag you need ... something to wear the dog tag ... on. So ... here. What do you think? Isn't it pretty?"

What was retrieved from the handbag was green and golden and glittery. It looked like something a gaudy whore would wear – or the Earl himself, come to think of it, in one of his more elaborate get-ups.

"I always thought this would look lovely on you," the Earl continued. "It really goes well with your colour - even now, and—"

Klaus felt himself start moving in for another attack and had to use all his will-power to remain still. "That looks like that tacky necklace you gave that stupid punk in Iran! Forget it! I'd rather be caught by the dog catchers! Get it away from me! I'm not wearing it!" He growled hard to make sure the fop knew he was dead serious.

The emeralds quickly disappeared into the bag again. "Yes, darling," Dorian said meekly. "How about ... this one, then?"

"It's not a necklace, my love, it's a dog collar. All dogs have to wear one, with their tags. It really can't be helped. Ah ... And Z will get suspicious if you don't wear one. I'll take it off you the minute we get back to North Downs, I promise. Oh, and look – see here, the ring where you attach the leash? Hopefully I won't have to put one on you, but if I must, I've cut up the leather here, so you could tear yourself loose without any problem, all right?"

Klaus growled again. "You showed me the emerald one just to make me agree to this one, didn't you?"

"You're right. Z would wonder. I'll wear it, then – but you take it off when we get back or I'll bite you for real this time."

"Of course, dear. Sit still – ah, there you go." After having fastened the locking mechanism, he gave Klaus a quick pat on the shoulder. Then he turned back to the steering wheel. Moments later the engine spun to life.

When did he have time to get an actual dog collar? Klaus wondered, turning his head and neck around to get used to the weight.

"I always thought this would look lovely on you as well," said the Earl in a light tone and then they drove off.

A few minutes into their drive Dorian couldn't resist lowering the windows, just to see if Klaus would lean out. Which he did, but only briefly. Mostly he contented himself by looking at the passing landscape, now and then turning his head to keep a cow or sheep or something else in sight for a bit longer. At one point Dorian thought he heard him muttering something about ducks. Dorian felt at peace at the wheel of the strong car, with his beloved at his side – if perhaps not quite in the shape he would prefer him in. As they slowed down for a turn in the road he was about to suggest that Klaus could sleep for a while if he wanted – the curled up dog looked kind of sweet and Dorian found himself speculating how flexible a fully human Klaus would be – when the Doberman suddenly jumped up with his front paws on the window frame, letting loose a series of sharp barks.

Barks ... which were answered from outside the car. As he changed gears Dorian glanced past Major and caught a brief sight of a grey and brown house. In the yard, which was surrounded by a fence, a massive Boxer came towards the road. It moved fast, but with a slight wobble to its gait.

Klaus turned with the Lamborghini as it smoothly rounded the curve. The car picked up speed, but he kept barking. Only when they were well out of sight did he get down and face the other direction. Still standing on his seat – taking up almost all free space in the small car – he looked down at Dorian with such an obvious smirk that Dorian actually recognized the Eberbachian features in the proud animal. The dog barked again, in a demanding tone.

The smirk vanished as the dog pulled back, still staring at him. Then it quickly sat down and turned away to look straight out the window.

No answer. An ugly little sensation that something was wrong moved in Dorian's stomach.

"I ... forgot to speak like a human," said the dog. It sounded hesitant, almost lost.

Dorian frowned. "Well ... I suspect that easily happens. You were ... talking ... to that dog and you just kept talking ... doggish, I suppose? Like when I speak French for a long time, sometimes I forget to switch back to English when I speak to one of my boys." He decided to risk another pat to Klaus's shoulder. When his touch wasn't at once rejected, he let it linger. What he really wanted to do was to stop the car and hug the other, but he knew it would be neither accepted nor helpful. He cast about for something else to comment on, to try to cheer his Major up. "Do you understand what they say?"

This coaxed the dog to at least partially turn away from the window. "Not really. It's not like human speech. The words are more emotions and intents - you can't spell them. If I wanted another dog to come to me I would make sounds that say that I'm good where I am and act inviting for him to join me. It's complicated."

Klaus turned fully towards him, raising his head. A bit of the smirk returned too. "That's the dog I met on my way to you. I had to pass there to get to North Downs. We fought. He gave me this bite—" he nodded towards his now all but healed wound, "—and I almost bit his leg off. Did you see he was limping? Loser! Big and strong, but he can't fight worth a damn! He tried to be all, 'Stay away! Stay away! I'll bite you if you come back! I don't want you here!'" To Dorian's secret amusement Klaus shifted from paw to paw, lifting them a little as if illustrating the Boxer's agitation. "Ha! He all but piddled himself when he saw me again! So I told him! I told him I'm strong! I can fight! I'm better than he is! And if I ever go back there he better show me his belly or I'll tear his throat out!" He didn't stand up, but he definitely stretched. Again he looked at Dorian expectantly.

This time the Earl understood what the dog-side of his Major wanted – and what the human Klaus had never seemed to seek. Something tightened in his throat, but he never hesitated. "Of course you did! That's so you, Major! And he was such a big Boxer too – I'm so very impressed that you could fight him and beat him! You're so strong and so skilled! Very well done, Klaus, very well done!"

To be driven in the Lamborghini was far, far nicer than hitchhiking in the bed of a truck. He had slept a bit, but most of the time he and the Earl had talked about the night's mission and lots of other things as well. They had both stayed clear off the subject of Klaus's transformation. He didn't want to be distracted by it prior to what would hopefully be the end of the mission and Dorian seemed to realise this. So instead they had spoken about the differences between the English and the German landscape; about odd things their respective group of subordinates had done and – of all things – football. When he had the chance, Klaus liked to watch football, especially when Germany was in an international competition. He hadn't expected Dorian to enjoy such a masculine sport – though perhaps he should have. Dorian freely claimed ignorance of the actual rules of the game, but now and then found it a fun pastime to admire the athletes' skill – and their bodies. Or, as he said, "Besides, love, if I didn't watch it I simply wouldn't be British."

The drive only took a couple of hours. There was still some light in the sky when the 'ghini slid to an elegant stop outside a Youth Hostel near the London docks. The posh car looked decidedly out of place in the neighbourhood, but they were still some distance away from the night's final destination, so there was no need to fret that one of the Russians might get suspicious.

Klaus didn't bother to acknowledge Dorian's nagging. He was one of NATO's finest agents, for God's sake; he had training in going undercover and knew fully well how to keep a role under high pressure.

They got out and walked up to the unassuming building. Once upon a time it had been painted white, but now grey showed through the fading colour. As they approached, the door opened and Z emerged. Klaus felt a surge of ... not joy or happiness, but definitely something positive. He found himself halfway up the narrow stair on his way to greet Z, when he simultaneously saw the young agent blanch and heard Dorian yell, "Major!" He froze and then a strong hand pulled hard at his collar. Another hand grabbed his snout.

"Major! Be still! Still, I said! Oh, I'm so sorry, Z! I don't know what came over him. Normally he's much—" Dorian tugged at the collar again, "—more well-behaved than this!"

"No harm done, Lord Gloria," Z said quickly. "Though perhaps you should put a leash on him."

Klaus heard the clear warning in those words. He felt ashamed. Dorian had even warned him and at the sight of Z he had forgotten everything he had been taught. Fuck! I hate this! What am I doing? I know better! What was I going to do anyway – fucking lick him in the face or something? Fuck! I'm supposed to be a professional!

Klaus shook his head, not so much in denial of the words as to get Dorian to let go of his head. He tried to make a softer sound than a bark, but it came out almost as a whine. I won't do it again! I'm all right now – I'm thinking like a human again! He butted his head against Dorian's hand, but the Brit didn't take the hint.

Dorian laughed: his brightest, happiest laughter which Klaus would never admit to liking. "I'm really not, you know. I'm much more of a cat person. But he is a gift from an admirer and I thought he would come in handy tonight."

We're switching stories? In the middle of a mission?! Your men will know that isn't true, you idiot! He yipped and stepped hard on Dorian's foot. Finally he turned his head and licked quickly at the fop's hand. That got the wished for reaction as Dorian pulled away as if the wet touch had actually burned him.

"Come on in, Lord Gloria," Z said and backed off to hold the door open while Dorian and Klaus entered.

"Don't worry about it, Lord Gloria. This is a NATO run operation. We never know when someone will need a place to stay."

Klaus felt a little growl start rumbling in his chest. He made a mental note to chew Z out for that later. Eroica might be on their side this time – all right, so he was on Klaus's side most of the time – but even so there was no need to hand over any NATO secrets to him.

The place was abandoned, apart from B, who sat in the reception. He smiled, nodded at the Earl and gave Klaus an admiring glance. He has a dog, I think he mentioned it once, Klaus recalled. B made no move to join them as Z led the way to the second floor and their current "headquarters". It was an unassuming little room, with a window, six chairs and a large table covered with maps.

Z took the chair next to the Earl. "Yes, Lord Gloria. I thought we should go over them together, just to finalize things? Where are your men, by the way?"

"Oh, they're coming. The van is a bit slower than my car. They should be here in, oh, 45 minutes perhaps. An hour, tops. And your fellow Alphabets? Apart from dear B?"

Klaus cursed the fact that because of the dog shape, he could not oversee the table. The maps were just too spread out and he couldn't believably stretch enough to see everything. So he stood between the two men, trying his best to visualise what they discussed. Dorian was being remarkably professional, for which Klaus was grateful. He did use "dear" and "sweet Z" and made a few queer comments, but all in all he concentrated on the mission. He did keep one hand on Klaus's collar, with his fingers leaning against Klaus's neck, but since he didn't pet or anything Klaus ignored the liberty. When Dorian moved his hand to shift a map, and instead Z scratched his neck, Klaus startled, but then kept still anyway.

His collar shifted and he looked up at Z. The blond German had pulled up Klaus's tag and studied it. Then he, for whatever strange reason, blushed. "'Major von dem Eberbach'," he said.

His thought was interrupted by Z continuing, in the same steady tone, "'Property of Earl Dorian Red-Gloria.' Oh, Herr Gloria, you don't deny yourself, do you?"

Z had been reading. On his tag! 'Property of—'! Oh, that bastard! I'll—!

Dorian laughed and the sound both stilled Klaus's rising fury and fuelled it on.

He's laughing at me! I'm going to kill him! Rip his throat out! Bite through his belly! Bastard!

"Oh, dear Z – yes, I know I'm stupid. Pathetic, right? And obsessed, I know, I know. A weak moment of wishful thinking. But a man can dream, can't he? The dog's name really is Major, so I just amused myself. Please don't tell Major von dem Eberbach, that's a dear. No harm done, but he would flay me alive if he saw it."

You're bloody hell right I will! If Z wasn't here I'd give you something to scream about!

Z leaned closer to Dorian. Their shoulders brushed. "I won't say a word, Lord Gloria. You can trust me. It'll be our little secret."

I'll piss in your bed when we get back to North Downs! Stupid bloody fop! I'll dig up your precious rose garden!

As he stood there, silently fuming over the indignity the Earl put him through, Klaus noticed a new smell in the room. It was warm and a little sweet. Not very noticeable at all, really, yet very distinct. He associated it with something pleasant, but there was also something about it that bothered him. It's nothing dangerous, he decided and sniffed some more, trying to pinpoint where he had smelled it before. Then it occurred to him.

He had been having one of those dreams. There had been Dorian, sitting astride the Eberbach boar. For whatever reason his hair had been long enough to cover most of him, but there was no use denying that he had been fully nude. Klaus had been running, trying to evade them both, but the boar – and it was a beast of a boar, a giant among its kind – was faster than he was. Soon enough he had been caught. After that things got a bit hazy and some images contradicted one another, but an early morning call had woken him up mid-dream and with his cock in hand. He had answered the phone with his hand slick with pre-cum, feeling mortified and at the same time resenting the Chief for disturbing him.

He was more used to the mustier scent of cum, but he had sensed it then, even as a human, with his damp hand so close to his face. Arousal. Excitement. Pre-cum. Not even a fraction of the scent that had enthralled him so, coming from the bitch, but there was no refuting it.

His entire body shivered with pent up rage. I knew it! He wants to pervert the youth of Germany! Shallow wanker! I haven't been a dog for two days yet and he's getting turned on by Z! So much for his 'oh, I'll love you forever and ever, no matter what, darling'! I'm not good enough for you any longer, am I? Treacherous slut! Maybe I'll bite your balls off!

He had to get Z away from the amorous, deceitful Earl! Since he couldn't very well give verbal warning – not that doing so had ever worked on poor, innocent Z – he decided to at least get some more space between the two of them. He turned towards Z, intending to bodily push the boy's chair away from the pervert. That's when he realised that in doing so, he exposed himself to more of the warm smell, rather than the less that he would have expected. For the second time in a very short while, Klaus froze, unable to move further. The smell didn't come from Dorian! It came from—

That he on some level still considered Z not quite an adult was probably the only reason why the next couple of minutes didn't end in bloodshed.

"Not yours! Not yours! Mine! I'm the leader! Mine! Pup! I'm above you!" he yelled so loud that his barks echoed in the tiny room. Standing on his hind legs he towered over the sitting Z and he tried to push the young man to the floor so that he could dominate him properly.

A hand grabbed under his collar, while another went around his chest and then he was forcefully thrown back. A moment later Dorian blocked his way to Z. "Bad dog, Major! Bad dog! Z – get out of here! Run! I'll take care of him! Out! Bad dog! Bad dog!"

Dorian sounded furious and he looked it too. But as soon as the door fell shut after Z, the Brit's annoyed mask fell and he just looked tired. "For god's sake, Klaus – what's the matter with you?! Why did you attack Z that way? I thought you liked Z?"

Klaus slumped to the floor and looked away. "I ... just snapped again. Something about him just ... rubs me the wrong way when I'm like this. I can't stand the way he smells." He wanted to explain, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to mention the sudden possessiveness that had prompted him to defend his human against the would-be usurper.

Dorian sat down cross-legged next to him. Clever fingers began to scratch behind Klaus's left ear. That felt nice.

"Darling ... I know you want to be in on this, but perhaps it would be best if you stayed here while we get the scientist."

Klaus pulled back in alarm. "No! I can— I will do better! That'll be on a mission, it'll be completely different – I swear I won't be any trouble then!"

"Do you want me to beg!? What!? Dorian – I need to be there! I must! Don't make me wait here like a useless pet spaniel! Dorian ..." Since he knew he couldn't force himself into the mission he took a deep breath and said the hated word, "Please?"

The Earl went up on his knees and leaned over, giving Klaus a hug. His blond hair fell all over Klaus's head, forcing him to blink and then close his eyes.. "Of course you can come," Dorian said. "It's just ... You're acting so weird. I worry about you, Klaus. I worry a lot."

Klaus didn't pull away, as he would have done if the Earl had tried to hug him while he was in human shape. In fact, he had to strain himself not to lean in further. I know, he thought. I worry about myself too.