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If You Want To Play Games, Okay...But I'll Win	By : WW2_Lover Category: G through L > Hogan's Heroes Views: 1043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of these characters, ANY part of this series, or make ANY money from Hogan's Heroes. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Any words with a * in front of them are lines directly from the show.

Kommandant = Commander
Nein = No
Non = French for ‘No’
Kraut/krauts = American slang, which is a derogatory term for the Germans.
Herr = Mister
Luftwaffe = The German name for their Air Force
Danke = Thank you
Gute nacht = Good night

Inside Klink's quarters, day three…
As promised the night before, Klink had rousted him at exactly 0400 hours (4:00am). Hogan wasn’t thrilled about that, especially as his butt hurt worse than the day before the moment he fully woke up. Just like a sunburn, it always hurt the worst at night and all of the next day. The fact that it was ultra-sore meant that he really would be lucky to ever sit down again after tonight!
In his typical hardheaded fashion, he’d asked Klink if he would just take care of the last punishment now, so that it would be over and done with. He’d gotten a glare that could strip the varnish from wood as he was told, “No, Hogan!” And even though Hogan had explained that the sooner it was over with the sooner he could begin to recover, Klink’s answer had remained the same.
For breakfast, Hogan had checked the status of the little bread they had left. He’d found it stale and proclaimed it perfect as he sliced it, making the older man give him give him a puzzled look. “How is stale bread perfect for breakfast, Hogan?” Klink had asked in a confused voice.
“You’ll see,” Hogan had replied vaguely before proceeding to mix some cinnamon and nutmeg into the milk. He’d actually laughed out loud when the German officer had asked him why he was dipping bread into milk and then frying it. “It’s called French toast, sir…and no, I don’t think it’s actually from France,” he’d explained.
And Klink’s look had been equally hilarious when he’d brought a plate with some of it to the table! The former Kommandant had been looking at the plate and under it as well, even lifting up the French toast to see where the soggy bread had gone. After having a good chuckle at his confusion, Hogan had begun to eat his breakfast. Of course, he was standing up today to eat any and all meals. Even the pillow hadn’t helped, but it’d been worth it to watch his self-appointed disciplinarian bite hesitantly into the food.
Obviously, he’d been expecting the hard bread it had been originally…so Klink’s initial shocked expression and the resulting pleased one had made the former senior POW officer very happy. The older man had even said, “I do wish we had thought to make this during the war. This tastes excellent, Hogan,” which had just made the American officer give Klink a lopsided grin.
After breakfast, the younger man had tried asking Klink to give him his final punishment again, pointing out that the anticipation of waiting was worse than anything else the German could possibly do to him. And again he’d been told no in a firm tone, which had only made him groan in disappointment.
When lunch rolled around, Klink had informed Hogan that he would be making ‘Kaese Spaetzle’ or ‘cheese noodles’ for them. Seeing as how the ingredients included cheese, baking soda and flour but no noodles, Hogan had asked how that was going to work. In response, Klink had told him to “shut up so that I may focus” and instructed his brat to stay out of his way while he cooked. The American general had watched in wonder as flour and baking soda – among other things – had somehow turned into noodles, which the tall German had topped with butter and cheese before serving.
Overall, it looked very much like the macaroni and cheese that was served in restaurants in the United States. Knowing what went into the dish, Hogan was still puzzled about how it’d turned into what was on his plate. But he’d liked everything else Klink had made him so far, so he kept an open mind when he’d tried it. The rich flavors of the cheese and butter mingling on his tongue had been enough to make him moan softly in delight as he closed his eyes. But because his eyes were closed, he didn’t see Klink blush and look away. When he’d opened them again, the German general looked composed as always, smiling from ear to ear when the younger man had expressed how much he’d liked it.
He’d barely gotten the words “Sir, would you just –” out of his mouth after lunch before Klink had snapped “No!” in an icy tone and stormed off. Hogan had watched him go, wondering why the older man insisted on making him wait all freaking day to have his butt lit on fire again, but this time with the plastic spoon. Reasoning that maybe Klink just didn’t understand how bad the dreaded anticipation was, Hogan resolved to ask again after he’d made dinner for them.
For dinner, Hogan had made hot dogs. Actually, he’d made wienerwurst, or ‘sausage’, which was the German equivalent of hot dogs. At any rate, it was basically the same thing with different names. They had very little food left, and it was an easy enough food to make. The American had put a new spin on it by slicing the hog dogs down the middle and frying them, making them taste really good. While it wasn’t Klink’s preferred way of eating wienerwurst, he had admitted it wasn’t too bad.
Now they were both in the guest bedroom as Hogan decided to plead his case again. Night had fallen, so surely Klink would listen to him now, right? He’d thought so, but apparently not.

A persistent brat…
"I said no, Hogan! I meant it, and that is my final word on the matter!" But how final is it really? That is the question, Klink thought. I have been repeating myself all day!
"But Kommandant," Hogan began, still intending on trying to sway the German general to his way of thinking.
"What part of 'no', do you not understand, Hogan? The 'n' or the 'o'?" His brat had been trying to convince him all day that they needed to finish this so that he could feel better, that he could handle the plastic spoon just fine tonight, etcetera.
But Klink wasn't having it, no matter how persuasive his former senior POW officer tried to be! He'd already gone too far with the hairbrush, as he should have said 'no' to that last night too. If he gave Hogan a third spanking right now, it had a high probability of causing the younger man permanent damage. Irregardless of his supposed 'rapid healing abilities', it wasn’t going to happen.
And still his stubborn troublemaker persisted in vexing him. "If you would just –"
"Damn it, Hogan, NO! NO, NO, NO! NEIN! NON! Perhaps you are not understanding English tonight? Does German or French work better for you?" Klink snapped irritably as he massaged his temples. He hated being badgered constantly, especially about something so ridiculous.
"Well, there's no need to shout, sir. I'm right here. Geez," Hogan huffed as he crossed his arms. "I don't understand why you can't see reason."
"I am seeing reason, Hogan. You just do not like what you are hearing, that is all. There is no possible way you can handle a round with the spoon tonight." For the love of all that was holy, why was the younger man being so stubborn about this? Klink didn't know, but he refused to budge on the matter. "For God's sake, you cannot even sit on the sofa with me to talk. Or have you forgotten why we are in here instead?" the older general asked him.
Hogan was lying on his stomach on the bed, clad only in his underwear and a t-shirt. Klink himself was wearing his nightshirt, a pair of slippers and his golden-colored robe as he laid on his back beside the younger general. He'd started out sitting in the chair, but his legs had kept falling asleep despite getting up to move around several times. After Hogan had pointed out that the bed was big enough for both of them to share and not even be touching each other, Klink had given into that logic before stretching out on the bed next to the American.
He was quite comfortable now, and they were able to continue talking besides. Of course, his sneaky brat had waited until about a half hour had passed. Then he'd slowly scooted over to be closer to Klink. "To hear you better," was the weak excuse he'd given. The German officer had just rolled his eyes at that but said nothing about it, wondering if that was it for his tricks today.
He really should have known better by now. Within another half hour, the former senior POW officer had all but laid on top of him! Their hips were touching, and Hogan had both his left arm and left leg thrown over his body. His excuse that time had been the flimsiest one Klink had ever heard. Hogan had claimed, "I'm cold, and I can feel the body heat radiating off of you, sir. I don't wanna freeze to death!"
The excuse might have been believable, except for two things. The first one was that he wasn't even under the blanket! If Hogan had truly been cold, it seemed like the smart thing to do. The second one was that his witty troublemaker had the most mischievous smile on his face as he said it.
The odd thing was, Klink really didn't mind his playful antics. He just loved that Hogan felt comfortable enough with him to act in such a way. The two of them grew closer every day, and at this point he felt more like an older brother/father figure to Hogan than anything else.
"Because I'm comfortable here, and you like it when I'm happy?" his brat said cheekily, bringing Klink back to the present moment. With anyone else, the sudden switch in mood would be a red flag, but for Hogan it was a normal part of his personality.
"No," said the tall German dryly, even as he fought a smile. "Because your insolent behind is far too sore to do so right now...and if I spanked you just once with that spoon, you would most likely pass out on me," he pointed out.
Hogan rolled his eyes and said, "You're exaggerating just a little bit, don't you think?"
Instead of giving him a verbal answer, Klink reached out and swatted the sore bottom in question twice. Both swats were as hard as he could make them in order to simulate the feel of the spoon. He needed to prove his point before he did something to his troublemaker he would regret later on. The swats landed on the American officer's buttcheeks, one on each side. SMACK! SMACK!
As expected, Hogan let out a yelp of pain and jumped. The unexpected thing was that he didn't move from where he was at. "OW, OW! Hey, what was that for?" he demanded to know with a glare. Klink's slender fingers had felt like branding irons on the tender skin, which in turn sent a new flash of fire rippling through his behind.
"To prove my point," Klink replied wryly, hoping Hogan would drop the subject now. "You have on underwear, and that was only two swats with my hand. Now imagine a plastic spoon with holes spanking your bare bottom. You would be screaming for mercy after the first swat landed."
"Would not," Hogan said sulkily, hating the fact he was wrong about what he could handle as he rubbed the sting away. Even the slight touch made him wince, which only served to confirm Klink’s point.
"You would too, you brat," Klink said with a chuckle. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he asked in an amused tone of voice.
"You could always keep me around," Hogan suggested cheerfully.
"Keep you around? Whatever for?" Klink asked, sounding puzzled. He thought it was a great idea, personally. But why did Hogan think so?
Shrugging, Hogan replied, "I dunno. An American general could fetch a good price at the local pet store for you, and I could be a breeding stud," he said with a lopsided grin. "You could just keep me around for the company, since I've been told I'm fun to be around. Or if nothing else, you could punish me when you get mad at someone else, like a type of stress relief," he finished playfully. His brown eyes danced with humor, showing that he was only joking. Hogan also wasn’t too worried about the last option after their discussion the previous night.
"Now that last idea has some merit," Klink joked, loving the pout that followed his comment. He had to get his digs in where he could, after all.
"Well! That's not very nice of you," replied his brat in a mock indignant tone of voice.
"I never claimed that I was a nice person, you know. And you said it first, not me. I was merely agreeing with you," Klink pointed out.
"I'm still say that I'm perfectly fine, you mother hen," Hogan grumbled crossly, sounding highly annoyed that he wasn't getting his way for once as he switched topics.
Meanwhile, Klink was of the opinion that it was just too bad if Hogan was unhappy about what he'd been told. He wasn't going to win every argument, because life was unfair like that.
"That is a lie and you know it. I just proved that to you. I am not a mother hen simply because I refuse – I repeat, I refuse – to cause you any type of permanent damage. I am really beginning to think this is some trick of yours to hurt yourself for some reason. And I am warning you now, I will not stand for it, Hogan!"
"Me? What reason would I possibly have to ever pull a trick like that?" Hogan asked indignantly, wondering where in the world Klink had gotten that idea from.
"I do not know. If I knew why you did the things you did, perhaps I would be able to curb that mulish streak of yours and discipline you properly. And by properly, I mean making sure that the lesson in question sticks in your brain!" Klink said in exasperation.
"Even if I were to grant your request, it would be because you asked me to do so. So if I permanently damage you as a result, it is indirectly your fault...which means I would have to spank you for asking me to spank you! Think about that for a moment," the older man suggested. "Anyway, you already know by now – or you should know, at any rate – the rule I have for you regarding that sort of thing. What implement do I use to correct you anytime you put yourself or anyone else in harm's way, hmmm?"
After trying to wrap his head around that strange logic for a minute, Hogan gave up in favor of shooting a defiant glare at the German. Yet he gave no verbal answer to that question, refusing to answer it on the grounds that he might incriminate himself.
Raising an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence, Klink prompted, "Well? Answer me, Hogan."
But Hogan just shook his head, unwilling to cooperate. Let's see how Klink likes me ignoring what he has to say, Hogan thought smugly.
Giving a weary sigh, Klink inquired, "Do I need to go get the item in question and give you another demonstration, little brat? Since you obviously feel 'perfectly fine' and all?" he finished, making air quotes with his fingers. He was giving the American one more chance to answer him before he actively reacted to the show of disrespect. There is no way I would actually ever do that to him again, Klink thought. But a bluff is still an excellent weapon!
At the thought of the leather belt roasting his already well-tenderized bottom, Hogan responded, "No," in the most sullen tone he could possibly manage.
"Just 'no', Hogan?" Klink inquired with false sweetness, intending on giving Hogan a hard time now since he wanted to have a flippant attitude.
"Fine! No, sir," he said sarcastically.
"I suggest you drop that sarcastic tone immediately, young man. Unless you wish to have your mouth washed out with soap, that is," Klink retorted.
"I'm not overly worried about it, because you'd never do that to me," Hogan said confidentially. "You're only jo –" He cut himself off at the warning look he was getting from the tall German.
Unfortunately, he'd also just remembered something Klink had said long ago to him. "Never mind," he sighed. "You would really do that to me?" he asked incredulously as the mental image of him foaming at the mouth with bubbles came to mind. I would look like I had rabies!
"I most certainly would," Klink said with a smirk. "I let you get away with a great deal of things, Robert Hogan. But I will not tolerate either a disrespectful attitude or a smart mouth from you."
"You can be a pain in the butt sometimes, you know that?" Hogan said as he sulked. He didn't think soap would taste too great. Not even if it was the kind that smelled extra good!
"I am well aware of this, as I have been exactly that to you for the past year. Irregardless, flattery will gain you nothing, Hogan," Klink responded with a smile. "But you never gave me your answer. Do I need to go said implement and give you a demonstration again?"
"No…sir," the American added reluctantly, not happy at all with being one-upped tonight. Why won't Klink just let this go? he wondered.
"Then answer the question. What do I use to correct you when you manage to put anyone – but especially yourself – in harm's way?" Perhaps that is the problem I am having with him, the German officer considered. There is too much action and not enough discussion happening.
"We both already know which one you like to use, so leave me alone," Hogan replied sullenly, not liking the more stubborn side of Klink at all.
"Hogan...." Klink warned as he began to lose his patience. Really, how hard is it to give a direct answer today? he thought wearily.
"Why do I have to say it out loud? It's embarrassing," Hogan muttered. He was attempting to wheedle out of even acknowledging the belt's existence, never mind admitting what it was used for!
Nodding, Klink responded, "That is precisely the point. Since the act of warming up your naughty bottom – no matter how often I do it – does not appear to be working that well to correct your behavior, perhaps this will. It is said that repetition is the key to gaining knowledge, you know," he pointed out.
With a scoff, Hogan shot back, "Warming up my butt? You haven't been 'warming up' a damn thing, General Klink. Toasting it? Yes. Setting it on fire better than firewood? Absolutely. Warming it up? No," he finished with a small shake of his head as he made air quotes with his fingers.
Rolling his eyes at his over-dramatic brat, Klink sighed and said, "Language, Hogan. And you are diverting from the topic at hand. Now, for the last time...answer the question before I lose my patience! You will not like the results if I do," he threatened, still unable to comprehend how one man could be this impossible.
"What do you mean, losing it? Sounds like you already lost it if you ask me," Hogan said cheekily, hoping a joke might distract the German general.
But it was not to be. "Ah, but I did not ask you, did I?" Klink replied, moving the American's limbs off of him so that he could get up. He wasn't sure what he was going to do after that exactly, especially because he had no intention of carrying through with his threat. Even so, it was a little late to let the subject go at this point.
"Where are you going?" Hogan inquired, suddenly getting a bad feeling as his senses went on high alert.
"To get the required tool for a demonstration. Obviously, you have forgotten the answer to my question and need a reminder of it," Klink said grimly, hating how Hogan always pushed things too far. He was moving slowly on purpose, trying to give his troublemaker every opportunity to change his mind and cooperate with him. The slow movements also gave himself some extra time to think about what to do as well.
"I didn't forget the answer! There's no need for all that, sir," Hogan said, a little too hastily for his liking. As soon as the words left his mouth, he threw his left arm and left leg over his Kommandant again as a stalling tactic.
Klink bit back a grin as he saw the recognition of what he planned to do dawn in the younger man's eyes. Or at least what Hogan thought he planned to do, anyway. "Hmmm," he said thoughtfully as he tapped his chin. "Somehow, I am not convinced of that. After all, you have either dodged the question or blatantly refused to answer it several times in a row now," he announced. "So I can only conclude that you must be lying to me."
Klink then moved Hogan's arm and leg off of his body once again as he went to get up, only to make a show of pausing abruptly. "Unless...but never mind. You would not be interested in that," he said nonchalantly as he resumed moving again.
Yet the former senior POW officer only moved his limbs back into place as he asked warily, "Be interested in what?" He had a sneaking suspicion he was being played, but he couldn't see how. True, he'd done it to the tall German countless times. But if Klink had been smart enough to learn that skill from him, he would've surely have used it before now.
Hogan is falling right into my trap, Klink thought with satisfaction. Now he knew just why his brat had done this type of thing to him all of these years! "Nothing, just forget I mentioned anything to you. As I said before, you would not be interested anyway," he finished, acting as if what he said was no big deal. Then he tried to roll away instead, deliberately not putting much effort into doing so that he would stay pinned.
"You don't know that, because I don't know what you're even talking about. Tell me!" demanded the American impatiently, keeping Klink pinned to his side with one arm as his curiosity got the better of him.
"Well...I suppose. If you are sure you would like to know," Klink said, drawing out the suspense on purpose and relishing in his brat's obvious frustration with his vague wording.
With a heavy sigh, Hogan growled out, "Kommandant! Just tell me what you're talking about already!" He was getting more irritated by the minute, and the idea that he might be being manipulated wasn't setting well with him. "For crying out loud, it's not that hard to give someone a straight answer! Geez."
"Well, you are certainly are mouthy tonight, Hogan," quipped Klink with a smirk. "However, you are correct. It is not that hard to give someone a straight answer, so I will tell you of what I am speaking of."
He made sure he had Hogan's full attention before continuing on. "It occurred to me that you might like to avoid another demonstration, as it were, by giving me a direct answer to the question I asked of you. For the sake of clarity, it was this: What implement do I use to correct you when you manage to put anyone – but especially yourself – in harm's way?"
Then he shrugged casually and added, "But as I previously stated, you would not be interested in that. So, I shall give you the demonstration instead." With his cards laid out on the table now, Klink began to scoot away yet again. Having never done something quite like this before, he wondered what the results of it would be.
For a moment, all Hogan could do was stare at the German general. He had been played! And pretty well too, he admitted to himself. The problem was that no matter what he did now, he wasn't going to like it. Either his pride would be hurt...or his behind would be hurt more.
Damn, but that was actually really good, he thought grudgingly as he reflected on what had just happened again, slightly upset that he'd been outmaneuvered for once. It's exactly the type of thing I'd do! "Okay, fine," he said sullenly, conceding defeat but not happy about it.
Since he could feel Klink trying to get up, Hogan tightened his grip on the older man. "You use the belt to correct that problem. Satisfied?" he asked with a pout.
"Indeed," confirmed Klink as he stopped moving and relaxed again. "Was that so hard to say, you stubborn child?"
"Yes!" Hogan shot back, ignoring that he'd been called a child as his pout increased. He could hear the underlying affection in the nickname, which in turn made it difficult to keep his voice sounding sullen.
"There is no need to sulk, Hogan," Klink said gently. "I only asked you a simple question...you are the one who made things difficult for yourself."
"But I don't like talking about it!" Hogan protested as he began to blush. "And I'm still not sure why you're more concerned about when I put myself in danger then other people." He didn't get why Klink had taken to looking out for him lately at all, if he was being honest with himself.
Overall, it was probably the strangest thing the American general experienced since he'd been shot down in this country. And given everything else that he'd both done and had happen to him since arriving in Germany, that was impressive.
A slender hand reached out to play with his brat's hair as Klink answered. "Because, Robert, someone has to look out for you. You are far too cocky for your own good, and you overestimate what you are capable of at times."
He liked the feel of it under his hand, and the piece that laid on Hogan's forehead was his favorite part of all. Since he didn't have much hair himself, Klink enjoyed stroking and touching the American's hair when he was able to. It looked and felt like black silk to him.
"Besides, if others choose to get mixed up in your crazy schemes, that is mostly their problem. You only get punished for convincing them to help you in the first place," the German officer said in an amused tone. "Anyone that knows you should know better than to listen to a word you say. But I will not deny that you are very persuasive when you want to be."
"You listen to me all the time, though," Hogan felt compelled to point out. "And by the way, that trick was pretty well done," he reluctantly admitted, feeling he ought to give credit where it was due despite himself. "You really had me fooled. Obviously, you've spent too much time around me."
"Thank you, Robert. And apparently, that is the case." He threw up the hand that wasn't stroking Hogan's hair in mock frustration. "You are correct in saying that I have always heard you out," Klink admitted, unable to deny that fact even if he wanted to.
"And look where it has gotten me...relaxing on the bed while my brat does a fair imitation of an octopus!" As if to reinforce that statement, the older general glanced pointedly at the former senior POW officer’s limbs that were still draped over him.
"Excuuuuuse me," the younger officer huffed, trying to sound offended and failing. "Like I'm told you earlier, I'm just cold. And you're throwing off body heat like crazy, so why shouldn't I use it to warm up?"
"You know, I would almost believe you...except that you are not under the blanket!" Klink said with a playful grin.
For a few seconds, Hogan had to marvel at the strange direction his life had taken lately. "Of course not, sir. How could I use your body heat to keep me warm if the blanket is pinning me down? Think about the logistics of that," he suggested helpfully.
"You would not need me to keep you warm then," Klink said. "The blanket would work far better than I to keep you warm as well."
"Probably," Hogan said agreeably. "But I like this way better. It's got a personal touch to it."
"I will show you ‘a personal touch', troublemaker," Klink teased him. "Just keep talking."
"Thought you already did, Kommandant," Hogan teased back.
"I suppose you are right, Robert," Klink said with a sigh, returning to the main argument they’d been having. "And yet you have been harassing me about this all day. I have never seen someone so determined to cause themselves such pain. You are very strange, I must admit."
A random idea occurred to the American officer at that point. It was crazy, it was stupid, and it had no chance of working...which was why Hogan figured it was the ideal plan. "Strange is my middle name, and I'll make you a deal, General," he replied, working out his idea mentally as a mischievous smile crossed his face.
"I thought it was Edward,” Klink said with a chuckle. “And oh no," the older general added with a groan as he recognized that look. Almost every time he'd seen it previously, it meant trouble. "What are you plotting now, troublemaker? *Whatever it is, request denied."
"It’s my unofficial middle name,” Hogan grumbled. “But I’m always plotting all sorts of stuff, and you haven’t even heard what I’m asking you yet," he said, mostly to send Klink into a mental tailspin.
"Seriously though, here's what I'm proposing to you. I'll stop bugging you to use the spoon on me for now, even though I think it’s justified because of the deal we made. But only if you'll stay here with me tonight. I do get cold easily, even under the blankets. And you could stay on your side of the bed," Hogan suggested uncertainly, unsure of how this was going to come across and not wanting to offend Klink in some way.
"London said earlier that they're dropping off my package tonight. So that means we can leave Stalag 13 for good tomorrow. C'mon, please?" Hogan asked, using the sweetest tone of voice he could muster up. "It would help me out a lot."
Klink looked at his troublemaker and rolled his eyes. Hogan looked so innocent right now, something the German officer knew for an absolute fact that he wasn’t. And even entertaining the idea made him flustered, mostly for reasons he refused to think about.
"I...what?" the former Kommandant asked, sounding baffled and trying to get his bearings on the new topic. "You said before that you are hot blooded, and blankets absorb body heat to keep you warm. That is how they work. I am sure you will be just fine without me tonight."
He was disappointed at turning Hogan down, but he needed a reason to justify it if he wanted to give his okay to this insane idea...even if he was only justifying it to himself. "And just how would it help you out, Hogan?" he asked curiously, still unable to fully resist that sweet tone of voice. Damn it all, he has me wrapped around his finger and he knows it, Klink thought.
"Well, you know," Hogan explained. "Sometimes I have bad dreams from all of the recent trauma I've been through, so you'd be like a big teddy bear. Very comforting, but only if I needed it!" he added hastily, making up everything and completely winging the conversation as he went along.
Ignoring the fact that the idea of being Hogan's teddy bear made his stomach develop butterflies, Klink asked the important question on his mind. "Recent trauma?" he repeated, wondering what the hell had happened to Hogan that he hadn't mentioned before.
Who had dared to hurt his brat? More importantly, why did he feel so upset about that prospect? God help whoever hurt Hogan if I ever catch them, Klink thought darkly, actually feeling murderous intent towards someone for once. They will die, and it will be painful!
"Yup," Hogan confirmed, unaware of the dark turn Klink's thoughts had taken. He pointed to his rear end and clarified what he had just said. "Recent trauma."
The older man snapped out of his dark mood rather quickly as he realized what the American general had been implying. Grateful his former senior POW officer hadn't been hurt in any way (except his pride), Klink growled, "That is not funny at all, Robert!" He gave the 'traumatized' area in question four sharp swats, two to each sit spot. Of course, he made sure to alternate them each time so that they landed left, right, left, right. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"OW, OW, OW, OW!" Hogan howled. "Hey, that really hurt! Why'd you swat my butt this time?" he asked, gingerly rubbing away the stinging in his sore behind and wincing.
"For making me think that something truly horrible had happened to you, young man!" Klink said angrily, shaking a finger in his face. "That was not okay to do!"
Hogan knew he'd crossed the line from the sharp tone, so he nodded as his mood shifted to a more contrite one. "You're right, that wasn't okay. I was just trying to make a joke, but it backfired instead. I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, actually meaning it and feeling like a heel as well.
"So, will you stay?" Hogan asked again, hoping he hadn't just killed his chances for this weird plan to work. "Pleeeeeease?" he begged, not minding doing so for once as his tone of voice returned to the sweet one it'd been before.
"Oh, all right," Klink grumbled, letting himself be talked into the odd request despite his better judgement. "But do try and refrain from draping yourself all over me, if you would." Secretly, he wouldn't mind at all. Actually, he would welcome it, but he had to keep up appearances.
Shrugging, Hogan replied, "I can't guarantee what I will or won't do in my sleep, sir. But I'll try." In reality, of course, he had every intention of faking being asleep and doing just that! Then he clapped his hands excitedly and grinned, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "We finally get to have a sleepover!"
"Why do you sound so excited about that, troublemaker?" Klink asked in an amused voice. "You act as if this is your first time doing such a thing. Surely you have either a younger brother, older brother or a friend back home that you have done this with before?" From what little he knew of Americans, they tended to have an average of three to four children per family.
But to his surprise, Hogan shook his head. "I'm an only child," he said moodily. "And I didn't have any real friends growing up. Everyone thought I was 'too bossy'. My men here were the very first friends I ever had. And being 'bossy' in the military was a good thing, not something bad," he finished, making air quotes with his fingers.
What was he supposed to say now? "Oh. I see," Klink finally replied, not sure what else to do. That explains a lot, actually. "Well, do not fret. I have done this a few times with my brother, and it can be fun. You will see," he added, wanting to wipe the forlorn look from the younger man's face.
Yet it wasn't working, as Hogan was still lost in his own thoughts. At least, he had been. But when he felt a stinging swat to his right buttcheek again, he paid attention to Klink rather quickly.
SMACK! "OW!" the former senior POW officer complained, shaking himself out of his funk and giving the older man a glare. "What'd I do now?"
"Nothing, except wallow in whatever moody thoughts you were having," came the snarky reply, even as Klink gently rubbed away the sting he'd just caused in his brat's behind.
"Geez, is it against the law to be depressed for a few minutes? I didn't realize you'd said anything," Hogan snapped.
Klink smirked and said, "I know, which is why I had to get your attention somehow."
"You couldn't have tapped my shoulder or something, you killjoy?" Hogan complained.
"Perhaps," Klink allowed. "But this way is far more fun." He delivered another swat, this time to Hogan's left buttcheek. SMACK!
"OW! Stop that! And what was that one for?" demanded the irritable American as he scooted away, not wanting to experience any more unexpected swats. He blushed at the realization that Klink had found the ultimate way to keep him in line. All the older general had to do was make his rear end sore, and then just swat it randomly whenever he wanted to get Hogan's attention! And that’s a realization I could’ve done without ever having, damn it, he thought.
"Since I did it the last time you called me a killjoy, I thought I would keep the same pattern in place," Klink explained, looking satisfied with himself.
"I think I like it better when you rub my back instead," Hogan grumbled, happy that at least the other officer was again getting rid of the sting he'd just created. "Or mess with my hair." Even though he complained about it, he knew Klink had a very gentle touch when it came to soothing away the pain he felt in his behind.
"I would not mind doing either one. Or even both, if you would prefer. But you will need to hold still," Klink replied unexpectedly.
"Why?" Hogan asked suspiciously, his hands flying behind him. He had to protect his throbbing rear end from any more unexpected swats, after all. "Don't smack my butt anymore! I don't like it," he huffed in embarrassment.
"I should hope not, or I have not done my job correctly," Klink said as he raised his eyebrows. "You moved away when I gave you those few swats earlier, and I cannot reach you now. Well, at least not comfortably. So I am trying to get closer to you. Duh," he finished, trying out a new word he'd learned from Hogan previously.
Hearing the very American term combined with the aristocratic German accent lifted Hogan's bad mood. "You've definitely been around me way too long," he chuckled.
"I quite agree," Klink deadpanned. "But I made you smile anyhow."
Hogan gave the German a surprised look. "You were just trying to make me smile?" he questioned as he felt a grin light up his face.
"Yes, and I am happy to say that it worked," Klink said smugly.
Sighing, the American shook his head. "I'm just surprised is all. You really threw me for a loop."
"Well, you have thrown me for a loop more times than I can count, Robert. So it is only fair that I should be able to do the same to you once in a while," Klink said reasonably.
He looked at his watch and gave Hogan a knowing smile as he got off the bed, managing to do so successfully this time. He had to give his troublemaker some credit, because Klink had all but forgotten that he was still punishing Hogan for his disrespect the night before.
“Given what happened the last time, I probably shouldn’t ask this,” began Hogan reluctantly. “But where are you going this time? I didn’t forget to answer any more questions, did I?” he added quickly.
Fortunately for him, Klink shook his head. “No, Robert. But it is your bedtime, and even naughty boys need their rest,” he pointed out with a shrug. “And besides, I have just remembered that I cannot accommodate you on staying here tonight.”
“Why not?” Hogan asked, unhappy that his plans had been derailed.
“I hardly think it would be fitting to give you a reward, considering that you are still being punished, young man,” the tall German said with raised eyebrows.
Huffing and shooting the older man a dirty look, the younger general decided to see if he could salvage the situation. “What about tomorrow night?” he asked dejectedly.
“Hmmm. That depends on you, Robert. We shall see,” Klink said noncommittally.
But before he could say anything else, a loud air horn was heard. After about five seconds, another one was heard as well, followed by a third one another five seconds later.
“Fuck!” Hogan swore, trying to scramble out of bed but not getting very far. “Owww. Where’s my uniform?” He looked around, trying to see where he’d left it.
“Damn it, I’ve gotta get dressed!” He tried to roll over and sit up, but that wasn’t happening at the moment either. “Owww!”
Klink watched the sudden change in his brat’s demeanor with a puzzled look, trying to figure out what had him so panicked all of a sudden. “Language, Robert. And it is on the chair, where you left it. But just where do you think you are going now?” he asked.
“That’s the people from London, sir. They’re about six hours earlier than I asked them to be, but I’ve gotta go meet them. That’s the package I’ve been waiting for,” Hogan explained impatiently as he considered how he was going to get dressed in his current state.
“You are not going anywhere right…did you say six hours early?” Klink started to say, only to cut himself off and switch subjects mid-sentence.
A suspicious look came over his face as he asked, “Why would they be coming by Stalag 13 to drop off anything at….0200 hours (2:00am)?” Klink said after pausing to do some quick calculations. “England is not that far from here, and surely they would normally wait until a reasonable hour to do that?”
The American officer shrugged, trying to act as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Who knows with the British? They’re a little weird anyway,” he replied offhandedly, well aware of both the suspicious look and tone the German officer had.
“Oh, I think you just might, Robert,” Klink said with narrowed eyes. “Mainly because you asked them to come by at that late hour!”
He sighed and made sure his troublemaker’s uniform was well out of his reach. “You were planning on sneaking out to meet them tonight!”
“Yeah,” Hogan admitted, realizing he was caught and seeing no point in denying the obvious.
The older man shook his head, wondering why Hogan would even bother with sneaking out of the camp. He was free to leave at any time, so it wasn’t like he’d be shot as an escaped prisoner of war if he did.
“Yet you did not think I would hear that loud noise at that time of morning?” Klink demanded as something else dawned on him. “And you set this up anyway, even though you actually believed I was going to spank you with the spoon tonight?” he asked in disbelief.
“How were you planning to go anywhere, Robert? You can hardly move right now,” the German officer felt compelled to point out. “I do not think your situation would have improved any if I had done as you asked me to.”
“Okay, so it wasn’t one of my better plans,” Hogan grumbled, seeing the flawed logic in the idea once it was pointed out to him. “Now, please hand me my uniform. I’ve got to go meet them.”
“It was not any sort of plan at all!” the German general snapped as he shook his head. “And absolutely not, Robert. You will not be going anywhere tonight.”
“I don’t think you get it,” Hogan shot back hotly as he tried to grab his clothes. “They’re here because of a special request that I made. To say London will be pissed off if they came all this way and I don’t meet them is an understatement. Somebody’s got to go get the package, and it can’t exactly be you!”
“Why not? I can wear your uniform long enough to collect it,” Klink spontaneously decided as he headed for the bathroom to change.
“Because they know what I look like, for one thing! Literally everyone on the Allied side does. The High Command wanted to be sure that nobody could impersonate me to gain valuable secrets during the war. And because of the operation I was running here, they had to be doubly sure of that,” Hogan responded.
Then he watched his self-appointed disciplinarian walk away with his uniform. “Hey, where are you going with my clothes? I need that, you know,” the former senior POW officer snapped in irritation.
“Ah, but I never said I was going to pretend to be you, Robert. I merely said I would borrow your uniform to meet them,” came the muffled reply as the German got dressed.
“And what good is that going to do? They’re expecting me, not anybody else!” growled the American general in frustration, feeling like he was losing control of this situation.
“Oh, I do not know,” Klink said sarcastically as he came back into the room, fully dressed but still doing up the last few buttons of his borrowed shirt. “Maybe because I would like to avoid being shot before I can give them a message, perhaps?”
“Message? What are you talking about now?” Hogan demanded. He wasn’t in the mood for games right now. He had something important to go collect, and Klink was delaying him. He didn’t have time for this shit!
As Klink slipped on his troublemaker’s shoes, he said smoothly, “Why, that you are not feeling well, of course. So you sent me in your stead, wearing your clothes so they would believe me.”
The tall German pulled on Hogan’s bomber jacket and zipped it up as he added, “Such a shame that you are feeling ill and vomiting so much. It must be a twenty-four hour bug.”
“But I’m not actually sick. What if they want to see me anyway?” the younger man protested, worried that Klink was going to get himself shot for doing this.
“Then I shall bring them here, and you will be the ham that I know you can be,” said Klink evenly. “I do not think you want me to tell them the real reason you are unable to walk out there. Not that I would anyway,” he added. The tall German had a mischievous look on his face as he grabbed Hogan’s crush cap and put it on.
“No, but…” He trailed off, feeling helpless to stop the train wreck he felt was coming. “Geez, you must be nuts,” Hogan finally said in exasperation, knowing he’d lost the argument.
“I had a very good teacher,” Klink felt the need to say, smirking as he did so. He covered his brat with a blanket. “I will be back shortly, Robert.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just be careful, okay?” Hogan muttered unhappily as he relaxed back onto the bed. “Just blow the air horn three times if you need me, the same way they did.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Klink said confidentially, “I will not need you. Either they will believe what I say, or they will come here with me to see if I am lying about where you are. And God help you if you are anywhere else but this bed when I return!” he growled, shaking his finger in warning before he exited the room.
“Yes, Dad,” the American general called out behind him as he heard the door open and shut. “Mother hen,” he added softly, keeping his ears strained for any sounds of a scuffle. He would only relax after the older man was back safe and sound!

Meeting new people…
Meanwhile, in the darkness just outside the gates, there were two American pilots standing side by side. Their names were Major Floyd Johnson and Captain Harold Wilson, and they were awaiting the arrival of one General Robert Hogan.
“What’s taking the general so long?” Wilson wondered.
“Maybe Hogan’s down in the tunnels,” Johnson responded, curious about that himself.
“Why would he be down there?” Wilson asked. “The war’s over.”
“You’re asking me to explain General Hogan to you?” Johnson said with a laugh. “President Truman himself can’t do that, Captain Wilson. So what chance do I have?”
“You’ve got a point there, Major Johnson,” his companion agreed. “Think we should give the signal again?”
“No, let’s give it a few more minutes. Hogan could be anywhere in those tunnels if that’s where he’s at. Besides, we’re several here hours early anyway,” Johnson replied, even as he saw a shadowy figure moving slowly towards them. “General Hogan?” he called out.
“I am afraid not, but I am a friend of his,” they heard a German voice say. Both men unsnapped their holsters and drew their weapons.
“A friend of an American general? A kraut?” Wilson asked, not believing what he considered to be a pathetic lie. “In the heart of Germany? Yeah, right.” He pointed his weapon at the slowly advancing figure, but kept the safety on just in case he was wrong.
But the major wasn’t so cautious. While he too aimed his weapon at the figure, he clicked the safety off. The sound seemed to echo in the darkness as he said, “Show yourself! We’re armed, and we won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
“I had planned on it, gentlemen,” Klink said dryly, ignoring the insult as he emerged into the light. “I just did not think it was wise to move too quickly, lest you take me as a threat.”
He held both hands out in front of him and slightly in the air, causing his arms to rest at a ninety degree angle. “I am unarmed, and I would appreciate it if you did not shoot me,” he added.
“Uh-huh, suuuuure,” Johnson replied mockingly. He nodded to his subordinate and said, “Frisk him.”
“Yes, sir,” Wilson said, giving a salute and moving towards Klink. “No sudden movements or you’ll end up looking like Swiss cheese, mister.”
“Heaven forbid,” Klink replied wryly, making sure he held perfectly still. “Please make sure you are through in your search, Herr Captain. I would very much like to put my hands down, and I do not want any misunderstandings between us.”
After Wilson had made sure he patted the German man down well, he stepped back and returned to the major’s side. “He’s clean, sir,” the captain reported, moving back to stand beside his commanding officer.
“Good,” Johnson responded with a nod to the other American. His gaze fell upon the new arrival again and noticed something was off with his clothing. “Wait a minute…that’s General Hogan’s uniform! What did you do with the general?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes and aiming his pistol at Klink’s chest.
The sight of a loaded weapon – and one that he knew the safety was off on to boot – pointed directly at his heart was unnerving, but Klink had had worse things happen to him in his military career. “As I said before, Herr Major, I am a friend of Robert Hogan. I did not think you would even hear me out dressed in my own uniform. I did think perhaps if I wore his instead, it would help prove I am not lying to you,” he said evenly.
“Yeah, or you could’ve killed him and stole his clothes!” Wilson piped up angerly. “Who are you, anyway?”
“If I had done that, they would have blood all over them. Death does tend to be messy,” the older man pointed out with a sigh, continuing to keep perfectly still. He knew they were mistrustful of any German, and they had a good reason to be.
But he also knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to help the situation at all. “My name is General Wilhelm Klink. I am part of the Luftwaffe, and I was the Kommandant of Stalag 13. Until recently,” he added calmly.
The two Americans looked at each other, wondering if the German was telling them the truth. “Until recently? What happened?” Johnson finally asked with some curiosity.
“The war ended, that is what happened,” the tall German deadpanned. “As I said previously, I am a friend of General Robert E. Hogan. May I put my hands down now?” he requested. “Your captain has told you I am unarmed, and I am no threat to either of you.”
Wilson looked at his superior officer, who shrugged as if he didn’t care. “Yeah, okay. Just do it slowly, and keep your hands at your sides, General.”
“Danke, Herr Captain,” Klink said as he slowly lowered his arms. When his hands were at his sides again, he inquired, “May I know your names?”
“I’m Major Johnson, and this is Captain Wilson,” the major said, motioning first to himself and then his subordinate. He was definitely puzzled by the strange events so far, and he was pretty sure Wilson felt the same way.
“Your English is very good, by the way,” Johnson added, not used to hearing his native language so flawlessly from a German. “So where’s General Hogan? We were told to meet him here to give him a package.”
“Danke, and it is nice to meet you,” Klink replied politely, the years of manners having been beaten into him taking over on reflex. “And I am aware of that, which is why I am here. Robert is not feeling well, so I am picking it up on his behalf.”
Wilson sized up the German general. He appeared to be telling the truth, but some people were really good liars. And why did this guy keep calling the general by his first name? It seemed awfully familiar to him. “Look, do you expect us to believe that? He was just fine when we talked to him yesterday.”
“Have you never had a twenty-four hour bug, Captain Wilson?” Klink asked, hoping he was a good enough liar to pull this off. He had to, for his brat’s sake. There was just no way Hogan was in any shape to walk all the way out here!
“Especially in a prisoner of war camp? They are not pleasant, and the food here is hardly ideal,” Klink added reasonably. “He was almost asleep in the guest bedroom when I left my quarters earlier to meet you.”
“Hogan’s asleep in your quarters?” asked Johnson in surprise. “I don’t believe it. Why would he be in there?”
“Why not?” countered Klink as he struggled not to sound irritated. “The barracks are all very drafty, and it is just us left. Everyone else has already gone, but we had to stay behind for a few days anyhow. Both of us were needed to finish up all the paperwork involved with running a prison camp. Far too much paperwork for my liking,” he muttered. “It would be a waste of resources to heat two buildings for only two men, as I am sure you know.”
“True,” Wilson allowed as he thought about that. “But since when does a German give a damn about an American prisoner of war?”
The German officer rolled his eyes as he asked, “Have either you or Major Johnson even met General Hogan, Herr Captain? He is the most interesting individual I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Especially with his heart of gold and his…other, more extracurricular activities,” he finished carefully, not sure how much the two American officers knew.
The two officers exchanged a look, wondering how much the older man knew. “Extracurricular activities? What are you saying, General Klink?” the major questioned. “Just what do you know?”
Klink thought about how to answer the question without being overly detailed about it. “I know all about the…let us just call it ‘*the traveler’s aid society’, shall we?” he responded. “I am just surprised that Stalag 13 has not become a sinkhole long before now, if you get what I am saying.”
“You know about that?” Johnson asked, trying to decide if he should report this to the brass or not. He knew the American general had a reputation for his bizarre style of doing things, but there was still a thing called secrecy!
“I know more than I ever wanted to know, Major Johnson. Believe me,” Klink said in a serious tone. “Bu with all due respect, can we move this along? As I said, Robert is not feeling well, and I would prefer not to leave him alone for too long. He does tend to overdo it at times,” he added.
“You seem like you check out, but I’m sure you understand that we just can’t take your word for it,” Johnson replied as he finally lowered his gun. “How do Captain Wilson and I know you’re not planning on taking the package and then trying to kill us?”
Klink raised his eyebrows, wondering what kind of stupid question that was. “With what weapon? I am unarmed, Herr Major. And even if I tried to attack either you or Captain Wilson to take your gun, I am certain that whoever I was not focused on would simply shoot me in the back. Besides that, Robert would be quite upset if I did something so idiotic. He has become quite fond of me, it seems,” he replied, trying to convey how ridiculous the idea of him jumping two armed men by himself was.
Wilson admitted the German general had a point, but he still wasn’t convinced. “Fond of you? Are you sure you’re talking about General Hogan?” he asked suspiciously.
“Yes, I am sure. But Herr Captain, I have been gone from my quarters too long already. I promised that I would return shortly with whatever this package is. And I need to bring Robert said package that you have for him before he does something utterly foolish, like brave this cold weather when he is feeling ill to find out where I went. So we can do this one of three ways,” Klink ground out, quickly losing his patience with the paranoid pair.
“Number one: I can prove to you that I am not lying by describing Robert’s looks and his personality to you. Number two: I can take you to see him. However, he has been frequently alternating between continuously throwing up and resting so his body can fight off the bug. So there is a good chance you may become ill if you go that route,” the tall German explained.
“Number three: you can shoot me dead where I stand and find him yourself, but he will be very angry with you if you do. The choice is yours. I do not have all night to play games, gentlemen. I have a sick American to tend to, and I am wasting time arguing with you when I should be watching over Robert,” Klink finished.
The former Kommandant finally allowed himself to sound frustrated, all while he hoped that they wouldn’t pick the last one. “I would ask that you do me the courtesy of telling me first if you decide to shoot me, however. It only seems like the sporting thing to do.”
“Wow. You’ve got a whole lot of confidence in yourself, don’t you, General?” The major asked as he looked at his subordinate again. This time it was the captain’s turn to shrug. "Fine, General Klink. If you really know Hogan, tell us what he looks like and at least two things he's known for in the military."
The older man glanced at the sky, praying for the patience to handle his current situation. "It is not confidence when I know what I say is completely true. And I am not sure what he is known for in your military, exactly. Nonetheless, I can tell you what he is known for in my camp. Or in my former camp, I should say," Klink responded.
Johnson nodded, wondering what the tall German was going to say next. "Okay, go for it."
“First of all, Robert Hogan is the same height as I am. He has white skin with a slight tan to it and black hair, with a piece that always rests on his forehead. He also has dark brown eyes where mischief seems to permanently reside. He tends to slouch often, and he wears his crush cap further back on his head than regulations allow, I am sure,” Klink began.
"He is my personal pain in the behind, that is true. But in addition to that, he is insolent and stubborn. He gives lazy gestures that barely qualify as salutes, bucks authority at every turn, makes impossible plans that should have no chance of working but always do somehow, and he likes to live on the edge," the German added.
"He is also possibly insane in the way he prefers to do things and run his command. And...and I will guard that oversized boy in a man’s body with my life, so long as he will allow me to be a part of it,” Klink said wearily.
After a brief silence, surprised laughter was heard from both American officers. "Yeah, he definitely knows Hogan," Johnson said, still chuckling. "He's legit. Captain Wilson, give General Klink the package."
"I get that feeling too," said Wilson with a half-smile as he handed Klink a large envelope. "Give that to the general, and please tell him we said to get well soon."
Klink nodded and accepted the envelope, which was addressed to:

General Robert E. Hogan
U.S. Army Air Force
Stalag 13
Germany
Re: **OUSH

"Of course, Captain Wilson. I will pass along both of your well-wishes. Danke, Herr Major and Herr Captain, for your time," the German officer replied, relieved that they hadn’t decided to shoot him in the end.
"You're welcome, General," said the captain as he offered a salute. "You're not like any German I've ever met before."
"Yeah, most of 'em try to give us all of that damn 'Heil Hitler' crap at some point," added the major as he too gave a salute. “Either that, or they all try to claim they never did a thing wrong,” he added in a sour tone.
Klink made a disgusted face as he returned both salutes. "Please, do not talk to me about – what did Robert call him? – 'Ol' Scramble Brains'. Or maybe it was 'that nut in Berlin'. Either way, good riddance to that madman," he finished.
"Couldn't agree with you more, General Klink," said Johnson with a grin, warming up to the older general despite himself.
“I have done many things that were not right in my life, both in World War One and in this war as well. But one thing I have never done is become a follower of the insane Austrian. Many other Germans feel as I do, and even some that followed him did not do so out of loyalty to him and his ideas. They only did it out of fear or because their loved ones were being threatened in some way, which I am sorry to say has been quite common here for the last twelve years,” Klink said.
“You must understand that by 1939, membership in the Party was mandatory for everyone. I have been a member of the Luftwaffe for many years, so I and a small group of others like myself were exempt from joining it. That is something which I thank God for every day,” Klink added.
“Hitler wove a terrible spell over my country with only his words, a spell that I am ashamed to say that we have only now snapped out of after his death. He promised us the world, to restore Germany’s honor. And like utter fools, we all fell for it. Now we are paying the price for that foolishness. Just something to consider if you talk to any more of my comrades,” the Luftwaffe general finished with a small nod.
“That’s good to know,” murmured Wilson thoughtfully, filing that information away for later. Up until now he’d thought that every German here had willingly become a Nazi, only trying to save themselves and backtrack now that they’d lost. “You take care now, and goodbye."
"Yeah, have a nice night, General. And goodbye," added Johnson, already suspecting something of that nature at this point, but still glad to have it confirmed. The major hadn’t known some of that information, and it would help influence how he saw things in the future.
"And the same to both of you. Major Johnson. Captain Wilson," replied Klink as he nodded at each man in turn. He waited until they had both boarded one of the planes and taken off before returning to his quarters, envelope in hand. As walked, it occurred to him that both pilots had gotten into one plane and left the other one behind. I will ask Robert about it when I get back, the tall German decided.

A long-awaited package…
“That had better be you, Kommandant. If it’s not, heads are going to fucking roll,” Hogan vowed as the he heard the door open and close. He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever and had only grown more tense by the minute. “I’m not trying to quote Major Hochstetter here, but in this case that saying applies.”
“Indeed it is, and watch your mouth, Robert,” Klink admonished him as he entered the room.
“Sorry,” Hogan said, sounding anything but that. “What took you so long? It’s been ages since you left!” he said, his tone a mix of anger and concern. “I was about to drag myself out there and chew out whoever was here for keeping you!”
Raising his eyebrows, Klink removed the American’s bomber jacket and crush cap before placing them on the chair. “Given the warning that I gave you before I went to pick up your delivery, that would have been a most unwise decision for you, Robert. And what if they had outranked you, hmmm? What then?” he asked.”
Scoffing, his troublemaker replied, “You think I care about that? I’ve made a long and illustrious career out of doing the unexpected, and it’s worked so far,” he pointed out. “So what happened?”
“I was in the middle of some tense negotiations, as the officers seemed to take issue with me at first,” Klink said dryly.
Going into the bathroom to change, he recapped the entire meeting for his brat and ended with, “But the strangest thing is that they arrived in two planes, yet they only left in one.” Gazing at the younger man, he asked, “Would you happen to know anything about that, Robert?”
“Who, me?” Hogan questioned, blinking and looking perfectly innocent.
“Yes, you,” the older man said with a shake of his head. “Does it look as if I have any other brats around here?” he teased.
“You’d better not,” Hogan growled, his voice low in his throat. “I never learned to share, and I’ve gotten used to hogging all your attention.”
“Possessive much, Robert?” Klink asked with a chuckle.
“You bet,” Hogan confirmed with a nod, unwilling to admit just how much more possessive he’d like to be when it came to Wilhelm Klink. “It comes with the whole ‘alpha male’ thing, you know.”
“Why am I not surprised at that answer?” Klink asked in resignation.
“Because you know me too well,” his troublemaker said cheerfully.
“That is true,” the German general allowed. “So, about the plane they left behind…” he prodded, wanting an answer to that.
“I might know…or I might not,” Hogan said slowly as a mischievous smile crossed his face. “But I can’t tell you about it right now. It’s past my bedtime, and my Kommandant gets pretty mad when I don’t listen to him. He calls me terrible things like ‘insufferable’ and ‘impossible’, you know,” he added in a stage whisper.
“Anyway, have you ever tried to sneak out of this place to do anything? It’s the toughest POW camp in all of Germany! Stalag 13 is the only place in the world where prisoners break in instead of breaking out,” the former senior POW officer finished, laughter dancing in his brown eyes.
“You are impossible, Robert,” Klink pointed out, unable to prevent a half smile from appearing. The fact that Hogan called him ‘his Kommandant’ caused a funny feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t going to address.
“And you are right, it is past your bedtime. But tell me anyway,” the tall German suggested playfully. “I do not think your Kommandant will mind just this once if you break the rules.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. He’d have a cow if he knew. He might have the whole herd,” Hogan said in a playful tone. He looked left and then right, as if looking for something. “But I guess I can tell you all about it. For a price, of course.”
“A price, Robert?” older man replied, wondering what Hogan wanted now.
Nodding, his brat said, “Yup. If you tuck me in, I’ll tell you what you want to know. That’s the deal,” he teased.
With a sigh and another shake of his head, Klink stood up and walked toward the door. “I would love to, but you are still being punished. I will have to wait and find out, I suppose.”
Even though I do not want to, the former Kommandant thought. I would prefer to let you win, but that would set a bad precedent. “Do you want the door open again or not, Robert?”
“Open, if you wouldn’t mind,” the American general said, disappointed that his plan hadn’t worked. But tomorrow…now that’s gonna be fun! he consoled himself. “Good night, General Klink.”
“Gute nacht, Robert,” came the soft reply as footsteps faded away. The last thing Hogan thought of before falling asleep was that tomorrow, life was about to become more interesting!

A/N: You can find recipes for Kaese Spaetzle/cheese noodles on Google.
Harry S. Truman was the president of the United States from April 12, 1945 – January 20, 1953. He took office after Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) died of an intracerebral hemorrhage. (An intracerebral hemorrhage is when your brain starts bleeding.)
**OUSH stands for ‘Operation Unsung Heroes’.
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If You Want To Play Games, Okay...But I'll Win