The Curse of the Eberbachs

Being sulky for long was not in Dorian's nature, though. When they had reached the castle, he was his charming self again, filling "Major's" bowl with water in the kitchen, and watching him drink.

"You really are a proud beast," he remarked. "Very stand-offish. You would never ever wag your tail, would you?"

"Just out of friendliness, Darling," Dorian answered lightly. "Well, at least the encounter with Nausicaa made you put your head between my legs –"

With the speed of lightning, the large dog tore around, impressive teeth bared. The impact of the heavy body slammed Dorian into the door of the storage closet. Powerful jaws grabbed Dorian's wrist in an iron grip; not hurting, not drawing blood, but hard enough to bruise and showing that they could easily bite through flesh and bone, if the dog wanted to. For a moment, the Doberman's eyes, normally the dark brown tone common in the breed, blazed emerald green.

Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße! Continue like this, and you'll be cracking, von dem Eberbach!

"I'm sorry," he said aloud. "But this is not easy, for fuck's sake! Not easy –"

"I should say sorry, Darling. I'm not the one who's in this – predicament, and I should not have mocked you."

I don't get it. The fellow smells good. And he tastes good. His skin – da scheißt doch der Hund ins Feuerzeug! * I like his smell, his taste, being around him ...

"A very good idea, Darling. But I'd like something to eat before." Dorian opened the fridge and rummaged around in the compartments. "Potatoes, onions, frying oil, bacon. What would you think of some fried potatoes for me and a steak for you?"

Nonchalantly, the dog walked over to the brand new basket in the corner and settled down there. He didn't answer, because Bonham had entered the kitchen. Curled up, head on his hind paws, he watched the two humans.

Never thought the fop could cook. Have to keep an eye on this Bonham. He looks harmless, but he's got sharp eyes and he's not stupid ...

Soon, a wonderful smell of fried steak and bacon wafted through the kitchen. The Major sniffed. Then he licked his snout angrily.

A few of the Earl's men came in, talking about this and that, and making a big fuss over their employer's cooking abilities. Two of them came over to him to try the "nice doggie" show, but he sat up and showed his fangs, so they thought it better to keep a respectful distance.

I'm really grateful I haven't become a poodle or one of these stupid lap dogs, a Shih Tzu or something like that. Bah!

They gathered round the kitchen table, and "Major" was served his steak by the Earl. It was almost raw, which he liked.

"Perhaps 'Major' would like some fried potatoes as well," one of the fops said. It was the one the Earl had called Rudy.

Just you wait, you insolent little sissy, just you wait until I get back my human body! 'Boy'!

"Don't throw around food! It's expensive!" James protested. Rudy made a face in his direction.

If you tell that story with the bitch, I'll get to your throat when we're alone again!

"Think of his injuries," the Earl continued, and immediately his assembled menagerie fell all over themselves with sympathy for the "poor doggie". Well – as long as they kept away from him ...

A bit later, after the Earl had given orders to prepare this night's "coup", the men left the kitchen.

The Major gobbled up the piece of fried potato Rudy had thrown to him. It had gone cold meanwhile, but tasted delicious nevertheless. After all, it would be a pity to let good food go to waste. For once, he almost agreed with the Stingy Bug.

The Earl threw him a few pieces of fried potato and bacon, which the Major snapped from the air. Dorian was obviously pleased. Then he kept one large piece of bacon in his hand. The Major sat on his hindquarters and looked at him, with a dangerous hint of green in his eyes.

"No, Darling, of course not." Sobered, the Earl let the piece of bacon drop to the floor. He looked crestfallen, and the Major's newly acquired dog senses told him that the fop was not playing games to get what he wanted, blackmailing him into co-operation for his help. The sissy was actually trying to cope with the whole goddamned fucking bloody mess ...

Damn idiot! Bloody fool! the Major raged inwardly, not completely sure whether he meant the Earl or himself.

A smile lit up Dorian's pretty face, and he took up the strip of bacon from the floor, offering it to the Major again, who gingerly took it with his teeth. He could actually feel the Earl's joy about a Major, who showed himself a little bit more accessible ...

A piece of fried potato followed the strip of bacon, then even a piece of onion, another strip of bacon, a few fried potatoes more ...

Easy to please, those humans ... What was that though?! I am a human myself! What am I thinking? – Oh Scheiße, ist mir auf einmal schlecht ... *

There was no time to excuse himself, or to run outside - the door to the garden was closed anyway. His stomach heaved and emptied quickly.

"Sorry." The Major had to admit, though, that the pretty Earl, staring at the expensive Italian loafers he had discarded beside his chair, folding his long legs under him, looked priceless. Unfortunately, as always, Klaus had aimed well ...

The Major growled a warning. As much as he – yes, well, dammit – liked the fop, his petting and stroking hand wandered too close to regions where Klaus would never have allowed a touch in his human form. He would not allow it as a dog either. The fop was going too far ...

"Had I known that the fried potatoes would upset your tummy so much! My poor Darling –"

"Do you feel better now that it's out? Perhaps a hot water bottle for your poor tummy –"

Like a striking snake, the big dog whisked around. Again, he had Dorian's wrist in his teeth, growling menacingly. Then, sobered by the shock in the Earl's eyes, he released the man.

"Well," Dorian said, "I better get myself a new pair of shoes, then, and clean up the mess." His voice sounded thin and subdued.

"Look at it like this, Lord Gloria. I don't like to be touched in my human shape, and this has not changed now that I'm in a dog's body! My butt is off limits!"

Dorian had taken up his soiled shoes with a lot of paper towels and threw the whole mess into the wastebasket. Then he took more towels and wiped the kitchen floor.

"At least in the present form of – a Doberman's hindquarters," the Earl continued truthfully.

Dorian sat down again, propping both elbows on the kitchen table, folding his hands under his chin and sighing deeply.

Now, don't you get into one of your bouts of melancholy, Gloria! This is the least convenient moment you could choose!

"Tell me about it," he answered grumpily. "It's most important, then, that you keep your head clear. Tonight we'll wrap up the mission. The next mission for me then will be to get back my human form."

"We're both in this, Klaus." He heard the love in the fop's voice. And the concern ...

"Everyone with a part in tonight's mission should see he gets some rest now. Tell your men."

He curled up, put his snout on his hindquarters and closed his eyes. The parlay was definitely over.

I haven't felt so bewildered since I did Bonham that favour, stealing a strange dinosaur egg from the Museum of Natural History, when he said he owed a bloke something ...