The Curse of the Eberbachs

"Here doggie," someone whispered. "Here doggie, doggie, doggie. Doggie? I have this nice, juicy bone for you, doggie. Come here, doggie."

The sharp sound woke him fully and he sat up, looking around. "James? What are you doing in my room at this hour? I was out late yesterday, working – you know that. We have an agreement – you always let me sleep in when I work late."

There had been heists he wondered if he had done them simply to get a nice snooze.

His accountant stood in the room's door and he did clutch a large bone. The "doggie" stood between James and the bed, but a bit to the side so that he could keep both humans in sight without having to move his head much.

"You were giving the doggie a bone. Jamesie, my dear little one, are you by any chance telling me a tiny fib now? Why were you going to give Major a bone, Jamesie? And in the middle of the night ... That looks like a very big bone, too – that must have cost a lot of money."

Found it, all by its lonely self, at the butcher's shop, perhaps? The thought made him smile.

"And why where you giving it to my dear Major?" He looked James straight in the eye and raised an eyebrow, waiting.

The small man fidgeted for a few moments, before he broke. "You shouldn't call him that! He's just a dog! You shouldn't keep him in your bedroom! It's not good! He's just a dog! You don't keep me in your bedroom! I want to sleep at your feet too, Milord!"

"Oh Jamesie ..." Dorian got up and crossed the room so that he could put his arms on his accountant's shoulders and pull him to his chest. After first having made him drop the bone, of course. "Major doesn't sleep at my feet, Jamesie. He sleeps in the other room, over there." He waved vaguely in the right direction. I wish he would, though ... Not at my feet, perhaps. And not quite in this shape. Though he would be welcome now too. "See, Jamesie? You have nothing to be jealous of."

He rocked the small man and gave an inward sigh. I have neglected you lately, haven't I? I'm sorry, my little one. Something had to be done about that. I've seen how Rudy looks at you sometimes. Maybe I should have a little chat with him.

It took almost ten minutes before he managed to extract himself from comforting James and usher him out the door. When he finally turned back towards his bed, the sight that met him made him wince. "Klaus! Really! In my bed?"

The large dog had, while Dorian had been otherwise occupied, snatched the dropped bone. Now he laid on his belly across the bed, with the bone under his front paws. He held his head high, almost defiantly. "t's good for my teeth."

The dog made a derisive sound. Dorian sighed. Then he returned to the bed, pulled up the covers and climbed back in. He sat with his back against the headboard and pushed his feet in under the dog's belly.

Giving Dorian a definitely annoyed look Klaus repositioned his bone and lay down again – facing Dorian this time. Then he took the bone between his teeth and there was a crunching noise.

"Oh, I can't watch that," Dorian conceded and abandoned the bed. "I'm freshening up, then we can have breakfast and go for a walk, all right, darling?"

If he had turned around to see he would have seen the Doberman, tongue hanging out and mouth open in dog-amusement, smirking at him.

Walking through the North Downs garden, Klaus reflected that while the mission was accomplished, he hadn't felt the brief moment of satisfaction he usually allowed himself after a successful wrap-up. In the normal cause of things, he and his men would return to Germany, shaking the Annoying Fop off their tails on the way, be debriefed at NATO Headquarters and get new orders. Only this was not the normal course of things. His men had left for Germany without him.

Before they had gone for their walk he had made another brief phonecall to Z. The agent had informed the Major about the successful end of the mission. Maybe this was what frustrated him most about the situation: he had been there, but officially Major Klaus von dem Eberbach had not been there. Iron Klaus had abandoned ship. Unthinkable! And now he would not return with his men, "due to another commitment", as he had brusquely informed Z.

He had also called the Chief and had asked for a few days off, "due to important family matters". Yeah, "family matters". It would have looked more credible had he returned with his men and asked for the days off in person, but for obvious reasons, this had been impossible.

His whole situation annoyed him more and more. It even – frightened him. His suspicious nature made him think that merely being outwardly changed into a dog was not the end of the line of events ...

The Fop's stupid teasing about taking him to a vet had done nothing to calm him down. Sure, it had only been teasing. Dorian would never think of actually gelding him, and teasing was merely his way of coping with the goddamned mess, but the Major was not in the mood to take any joke at his expense at the moment.

Too bad the Fo – Dorian – never knew when to stop! He should know him better by now! But no – during their walk through the fields, Dorian had to chatter about what if he had become a dog as well. Thinking about it later, the Major took it as Dorian trying to learn more about the nature of what had befallen Klaus. Asked his opinion, however, what kind of dog Dorian would have become, he took it as one of the Earl's stupid games.

Dorian pouted and then pulled himself up straight. "No, no," he said haughtily. "Something elegant. Noble. One of those Salukis, perhaps, they're the princes of the dog world."

"Whatever!" Klaus barked, annoyed with the nonsense – couldn't Dorian see this was serious?

Dorian bent down and grabbed him, shaking him in a way that perhaps was meant to be playful. Next thing Klaus knew he tasted blood and Dorian's shocked yell of pain rang in his ears.

Mortified by what he had done, Klaus crouched, feeling his tail strain to move to a down position. "Lord Gloria – Dorian – I'm so sorry ... My God, I didn't ..."

"It's alright, Major," the Earl assured him, but in his eyes lay the deep fear of something unknown, a fear the Major himself shared ... the fear of having to face an uncontrollable animal nature ...

The Major was seized by a feeling which he normally kept under such iron control it had become fairly unknown to him: panic. He was not afraid of pain, he knew of torture, bodily and psychologically, he knew how a person could be broken ... he even knew that he himself, Iron Klaus, was not infallible. He lived with these things, otherwise he would be unfit for this line of job. But no training had ever prepared any NATO agent for being turned into animal shape, having to live in a dog's body, with a dog's acute senses, a dog's instincts ...

Besides, he had begun to like the Brit, and on the other hand the man drove him crazy, as usual. It was not easy for the Major, who normally divided the people around him into idiots and less idiotic specimens, with a capable person between them every now and then, to admit that he actually liked someone ... even to the point of finding him attractive somehow ... he must be as close to cracking as he had never been before ...

And Dorian seemed to notice that something was wrong, definitely wrong. He relented.

"Oh Klaus – I know it was an accident, dear. Don't worry. Please, don't worry. After all, it was you biting me." He smiled. "If you ever did it during sex, I would not mind!" Apparently he was waiting for one of the Major's usual sharp, angry retorts, but none came. The Major did not feel like it.

"You know, " he said instead, "if I ever regain my human shape, I will kiss you."

What the hell am I saying? Mein Gott *! But it is true – I can't lie about it. I would like to find out what it's like to kiss another man ...

"Klaus –" Dorian seemed as surprised as the Major himself, but rallied quickly.

"Klaus," he said softly, "forget about the kiss. Forget about our stupid banter.. When you regain your human shape, you don't owe me anything. Don't fear I'd abandon you if you don't make promises now that your sense of honour would bind you to later. I know a friendship does not work that way, Klaus. It is enough for me that you let me take care of you while you're in this shape –"

"Oh mein Gott *, shut up!" Klaus yelled. "Now that I offer you what you want, you won't take me up on it! What in hell do you want, then?!"

With these words, he stormed off, into the fields, well knowing that even someone as fast and agile as the thief would never catch him on two legs. He ignored the human calling his name and the despair in Dorian's voice.

Should never have involved him in the first place, Klaus thought while he was running through the fields. Idiot notion. Blöde Idee. Und das hast du jetzt davon. Steckst tiefer in der Scheiße als vorher. * No results since wrapping up the Retty mission. And that has been over two days now. How could there be results anyway? He's as much at a loss as I am regarding my condition. So why bother him? He can't help me anyway – On the other hand he gives me food and shelter and honestly wants to help me. Shit. I don't know what to think anymore. Must clear my head! Run for a bit. Then we'll see ...

The path through the fields ended in a small village. No more than a few streets and two or three farms, actually. Neat, whitewashed cottages with flower gardens in front, a small church, a children's playground, a little roundabout with a modern sculpture in the middle, a main street with a few shops ...

The Major was not very interested in his surroundings, noticing them automatically, out of habit. He wanted to get away from Dorian and his men, from humans in general. So he dove into a narrow lane, almost running into a young woman who had a toddler on one hand and manoeuvred a pram with the other. Confronted with the big, dark-coated dog, she screamed, and the toddler began to cry. Startled himself, the Major bared his teeth and growled, then slipped past the frightened mother and her children, disappearing round a corner.

If he went left now, he must come back to the small road he had come in on, but he would have to cross the main road.

He reached the main road, and who of all people was just chaining an old, battered bicycle to a lamp-post?

No chance the little pest would not have seen him. He ran across the main road, dodging a car, which stopped with screeching tyres. The driver shouted something. The Major wanted to turn into another small side street, but almost ran into another car. He turned again and intended to run back, when he felt a sting in his flank. Angrily, he turned around to see a small dart in his haunch.

Under the curious glances of a few bystanders, two men secured the unconscious dog's snout with a muzzle and lifted the big Doberman into the back of their van, putting him gently on a blanket.

"Why didn't you shoot the rabid bastard?!" a fat man, who had come from a bakers' shop, demanded.

"He doesn't look rabid," one of the dog catchers said, closing the door to the van. It had "Thorpesmeade Animal Shelter" written on it. "A vet will have a look at him. Back up, please!"