No Rest for the Weary

Why Me?

Burkhalter awoke to the sound of a somewhat heated discussion in progress. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get his bearings. What he saw made him softly groan. Klink was waving his riding crop around, using it to emphasize this point while he shouted at Hogan, who was sitting on a nearby bed. The aforementioned American was alternating between glaring at Wilson and arguing right back with a raspy voice, attempting to make his own point. The whole thing was ridiculous. Unfortunately for the general, it was also a perfectly normal situation at Stalag 13.

"I knew I should have stayed home today," Burkhalter muttered under his breath. "Is it really too much to ask for one normal visit to this camp?"

Apparently so. Well, it was too late now. He was stuck here unless he wanted to risk injuring himself further, not to mention deal with his wife. Burkhalter figured he'd have to make the best of his situation. He fluffed his pillow, wanting to be more comfortable while he watched the latest spat between the two colonels play out. Perhaps it would provide him with some entertainment. If not, he could always order them to shut up.

"Now see here, Hogan. If Sergeant Wilson says you are to stay here for two weeks, then that is what you shall do!" Klink exclaimed. "Not another word on the subject, do you understand?"

"I understand this is a violation of my rights under the Geneva Convention," Hogan protested. "You can't force me to be admitted to the infirmary against my will, Kommandant! It's not ethical!"

"I keep you as a prisoner of war against your will, do I not? This is no different," Klink shot back, momentarily stunning Hogan into silence. Yet he knew it wouldn't last. "In my camp, what I say goes...and I say you will follow Wilson's orders to the letter!"

Hogan glared at him. "I protest this treatment!"

"Protest denied, Hogan." Klink jabbed his riding crop at the American officer. "Feel free to write the Red Cross when you are released if you so desire, but you are not to leave this building without his express permission. This is for your own good. Perhaps I shouldn't be worried about what happens to you, but for some reason, I am."

"SILENCE!" Burkhalter thundered. He rubbed his temples, instantly regretting the decision to yell when he still had a headache. "Either snog and make up or don't, but be quiet."

"Say what now?"

"I beg your pardon, Herr General?"

"You heard me, Klink. You and Hogan constantly bicker like an old married couple," Burkhalter said. "I half expect to find the two of you emerging from a nearby supply closet with rumpled uniforms every time I visit this blasted camp."

Wilson snickered, earning himself a harsh glare from both Hogan and Klink. "Sorry sirs, but General Burkhalter's not wrong. I've seen people who were married for 40+ years that argued less."

"Well!" Hogan huffed. "I'll have you know I wouldn't kiss Klink if you paid me, even if it was legal. I have standards."

"I feel the same about you, Hogan," Klink assured him. "Such relationships would have to be socially acceptable first."

Hogan stared at him. "Come again, Kommandant?"

"It would be an easy way to make money," Klink explained with a shrug. "I would not be thrilled about the prospect, but hypothetically speaking, if such an opportunity were to present itself...I mean to say, you are not exactly hard on the eyes..." He cleared his throat. "Er, never mind. Let us change the subject."

"Gladly," Hogan slowly said. He stared at Klink for a few seconds more, wondering what that had been all about. "If you'll just step aside, I'll be on my merry way."