01 I Hate Everyone
"First I couldn't get any cigarettes. Then the traffic through this stupid city was stuck, then that idiot..."
"Which one?" Dorian interrupted irreverently.
"The CIA one. The idiot wanted my report on the mission and for me to fill out HIS paperwork! Me, Iron Klaus, to fill out paperwork!"
Dorian nodded absently.
"The idiot didn't even have cigarettes, stupid yanks and their stupid health obsession! Then the KGB idiot showed up, and now I owe him twelve good punches, and my jaw hurts."
"He got six punches on you?" Dorian couldn't refrain his surprise.
"No." The Major glanced sidewise at him. "I'm in an especially foul mood. I give back triple when I'm particularly pissed off."
Dorian proffered his cigarettes.
"Have one of mine, Major."
"Foppish, minty abominations!" Klaus said in horror, but he took one and lit it.
He inhaled deeply from the cigarette, then blew the smoke out in a long angry cloud.
"I hate them. I hate them all."
"All my cigarettes?" Dorian raised his eyebrows.
Klaus glared at him.
"All idiots, starting with you!"
"Ah." Dorian nodded dutifully.
The Major had been like this from the second they'd landed in Washington. American air really didn't agree with him.
"The Eastern ones are idiots. Our allies are trying to out-idiot them. My men are incompetent idiots. The yanks are... yanks."
Klaus puffed deeply, then looked suspiciously at the earl.
"And you. You're trying to get under my skin, aren't you, listening to my ranting, giving me your disgusting cigarettes? Stop being condescending to me!"
"Yes, dear," said Dorian meekly.
"Argh, stop this! I still hate you, you know. I hate you the most of all!"
"Glad to hear that, Major," Dorian said solemnly. "I'd hate to be lumped in with the masses."
02 Jealous Of Your Cigarette
"Anyway, that's not why. No, Major, it's just..." he stopped.
"I like watching you smoke," Dorian confessed, lowering his eyes in false modesty. "I love it and hate it."
"What the fuck does my smoking concern you, idiot?"
The Major looked genuinely surprised. Oh, won't he have a surprise, thought Dorian wickedly, eyeing his escape routes.
"I love watching you do it, but I also hate and envy your cigarette," Dorian said in a conspiratorial whisper. "You see, I can't help thinking... wishing..." He wondered how much more explicit he would have to be when the Major's eyes widened in horrified understanding.
"You... You... You disgusting, shameless pervert! Are you trying to sully even smoking for me?"
The cigarette had fallen to the ground, and Dorian wondered if it would be too much if he picked it and took an ostentatious drag from it.
He took a step forward and the Major stepped back, like in a comedic tango.
"I'm going inside! It's unhealthy to stay here and listen to your perversions. At least the CIA aren't degenerate idiots!"
Dorian watched his hasty retreat with a curious smile.
"Oh, Major. You think you're so untouchable. But then why are you running from me? One day I'll corner you, and there'll be no place to run."