Author’s Note: This was originally written as a one shot. Then the Reverand was inspired to write a continuation in the form of a second chapter. I thank her for giving me permission to share it.

By Margaret Price & The Reverand

Chapter One
Stuck Zipper

“Dammit. The zipper’s stuck,” the Major growled while wondering how he had gotten himself in this position in the first place. One minute he was bored and uncomfortable at a formal gathering, the next the Earl was dragging him into a large clothes closet. The Earl in a full-length evening gown, no less.

“Major, hurry up!” Dorian said breathlessly, glancing back over his shoulder. “No, don’t tear it!”

The Major growled again. “You said you wanted it off,” he snapped as he struggled with the fabric. “How the hell did you talk me into this?”

“You can’t resist a damsel in distress?” Dorian replied jokingly. He received a dangerous look in reply. “Just help me get out of this dress, will you? Before that dragon finds me.”

This caused the Major to stop his struggles and look up. “What dragon?”

Dorian threw another glance over his shoulder. “That woman out there.” He waved a hand at the door. “The one who’s been stalking me all evening.”

The Major’s eyes widened. “Woman?” Then a smile curled the edges of his mouth. “You’re being chased by a woman?”

“Don’t you dare laugh!”

It was already too late.

Dorian gave the Major a cold look. “It isn’t funny.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Fine. Now, the zipper, please?”

The Major had to fight to get hold of himself before returning to his attack on the zipper. The door to the closet opened just as he won the battle. There was the sound of the zipper opening followed by the Major’s triumphant, “Got it!”

The woman who had been pursuing the Earl the whole evening stood at the door, her mouth agape as she took in scene. “Oh!” she gasped, then more angrily, “Oh, you…you…slut!” She turned away in tears, slamming the door behind her.

Dorian and the Major stood staring for a full minute, not quite certain what to do. Finally, the Earl turned. “I am never going to live this down.”


“How the hell do I explain that I broke a woman’s heart?”

The Major rolled his eyes. “You idiot.”


Chapter Two
Stuck Door

"Did you see her claws? We're lucky we came away unscathed!"

Klaus had to admit, she had been rightly called a dragon. "You're lucky she didn't make a scene, or I'd have scathed you myself." He reached for the doorknob. "Now I'm leaving and you're--"

In the near complete darkness Dorian heard the doorknob rattle. "Major..." The rattle turned to a half-frantic jerking. "Umm..."

Klaus began to curse. Extensively. "The door is locked, you moron. You and your fucking zipper and that dragon bitch! She must have locked it!"

"Oh, Major," Dorian said and though Klaus couldn't see the self-satisfied smirk he knew it was there, "you forget who you have pressed against you... there's not yet been a closet door that's gotten the best of me."

"Back up, pervert, there was room enough before! Now open this door!"

"Oh, all right, but only because you were kind enough to help me. I would usually not waste such an... advantageous situation as this.... Are you quite sure you really must be going?" A rustle and a click that sounded suspiciously like the safety mechanism of a .44 magnum answered his question. "Bloody fine! One moment."

The Major could only just make out the outline of Dorian reaching into his hair for something, tools of the trade no doubt. Good place to hide them, surely. He could have hidden a small arsenal in that damned mane and no one been the wiser.

There was a bit of a struggle when Dorian tried to bend to the doorknob, particularly as the dress he wore was cumbersome, its folds copious, lined with layers upon layers of crinoline and lace. The Major was nudged, bumped and brushed no less than six times and was growing rather impatient. He had put away his Magnum but with no little reluctance.

"Major, darling," Dorian pleaded, "I really hate to inform you of this, but... you're either going to have shimmy past me or promise not to shoot me if I get too close to, er... to your, ehem..." a small, perverse, nervous laugh, "...your cannon."

Confusion furrowed the Major's brow, then anger creased it further. "You--!" he shouted, but fully aware of the party no short distance on the other side of the door, lowered his voice to an indignant whisper. "You perverse wanker! Are those my only options? Your face in my... or you and I... fucking Mary Mother of Christ, how in the hell did I get here?!"

Dorian had the good sense not to giggle. He knew the Major would realize he was right... and either way he was going to press the advantage of too little space.

"Fine. I will only shoot you if you touch me... and if you do not hurry." He thought. "Or if you ever refer to my anatomy in that way ever again."

Dorian's smile was audible, "Right."

The thief bent once again to his task and the Major pressed himself as much against the wall as he was able without undue injury. He heard a delicate metal-on-metal tinkering, and then again. And again. The Great Eroica must be getting rusty.

"Er, Major."


"It's not locked. I think it must be stuck."

Klaus, by instinct, leaned forward to make sure the damn fop wasn't lying or mistaken. He did not realize his error until he had bumped into Dorian, still on his knees and caught off-balance. As Dorian fell backward he reached for something to save him, which happened to be Klaus's lapel. They tumbled, one backward, the other forward, in a heap of crinoline.

Dorian recovered first, "I say, Major, fancy meeting you here."

Sprawled between Dorian's spread legs, Klaus felt himself grow hot, and not entirely with anger, though that was how it was expressed. "You and your fucking dress and your fucking locked door and your goddamned hair, and your zipper and fucking cannons and--" Hands were in his hair, a mouth on his, and the legs around him tightened. He felt Dorian pressing against him... all of him, and was just about to protest and throttle the thief when he realized that Dorian had sufficient reason to think the moment ripe for such action, the ache in his groin was surely evident to the other man.


The Major, who only then noticed that he had in fact been kissing back, withdrew to speak. "I hate you," he said, but without venom. He could just make out a beaming smile, lit by the little light coming in at the bottom of the door.

"Why Major, I believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He pulled Klaus down for another kiss.

"I'll have to break the door down," Klaus said moments later, "but not while this crowd persists."

"Oh no, certainly not," Dorian's grin was mischievous, but not half as much as the wiggle in his hips, or the slow rub of his thigh against the Major's side. "And it's early yet."

The Major growled, but the sound was less like warning than defeat. Blissful defeat. "We may have to find a way to pass the time..." Dorian continued, "It could be hours."

"Hours..." was the only thing the Major could manage, his mouth being busy elsewhere.<

It was three and a half hours later, in fact, when the pair finally stood, helping each other to adjust themselves to more acceptable appearances. Dorian straightened Klaus's tie and helped him find his pants in the dark. Klaus aided Dorian in re-attaching the knives to a belt at his thigh, and a few other small black kits of some sort elsewhere. Then, with a private smirk, zipped up his dress for him. No fear of dragons now.

"Sounds like the coast is clear," Dorian said, all business.

"Stand back."

"Wait, Major!... er, let me try one more time." He laughed nervously, fiddling with his tools once more, two seconds passed and the door clicked quietly open. "Oops... er. Perhaps it wasn't stuck after all."

The Major scowled, opened his mouth to shout, then closed it. Dorian looked worried. It suited him. "Good work, Eroica."
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