Author's notes: This was written for the Hogan's Heroes Spring Has Sprung Short-Story Speed-Writing Challenge. The idea for this story was supplied by LJ Groundwater and goes as follows:

"The heroes are worried because Hochstetter is suddenly being VERY nice to Klink, and they can't figure out why. But it ISN'T about THEM!"

Disclaimer: I don't own Hogan's Heroes or any of the characters; I merely borrow them and play with them for a while.

Hochstetter was... smiling?

Frowning, Hogan did a double take as the Gestapo major stepped out of the car and walked towards Klink who was waiting nervously on the porch of the kommandatur. That just wasn't right. Hochstetter didn't smile – he sneered, he smirked, yes, he even grinned sometimes, but he didn't ever smile. Not in the way he was doing now, at least. A scowling Major Hochstetter was bad enough, but the broad smile that was plastered onto his face had to herald news even worse than usual.

As Hochstetter approached the kommandatur, his grin only broadened, however. "Klink, my old friend!" he yelled across the compound as he was still about ten steps away. "How good to see you again. I hope you are well?"

Klink looked as taken aback as Hogan felt.

"Why yes, yes, Major Hochstetter," Klink managed. "A pleasure to see you here in Stalag 13. Always a pleasure to see the Gestapo, is what I always say. That is... uh, I mean..." He blustered for a while, and then, wisely, fell silent.

Hochstetter, however, only slapped a friendly hand onto Klink's back, and then went on to say something Hogan could not hear from where he was standing, but the look on Klink's face was rather apprehensive. Of course, that didn't necessarily have to have anything to do with whatever Hochstetter had just said; merely having the man standing there inches away effectively invading his personal space tended to be enough for Klink to turn a few unhealthy shades grayer.

Hogan watched the little scene in silence. Something about it was bothering him; perhaps it was the pointed absence of the usual high-pitched shrieks that would normally emanate from Hochstetter's general direction whenever the man was in the Kommandant's presence, or perhaps it was how Klink's posture seemed to be growing more and more relaxed despite his being within a two miles radius of a Gestapo officer. Whatever it was, it just didn't feel... right. What could Hochstetter possibly be talking to Klink about?

He nodded pointedly to Carter, who was standing close nearby leaning on the broom he'd been sweeping the compound with just before Hochstetter's car rolled in. It was better to let Carter listen in; his own presence would only catch the attention of the two Germans and put a halt to their conversation. "Carter, see if you can get close enough to hear what they're saying."

"Will do, sir!"

With that, Carter began to inconspicuously edge closer towards the kommandatur, making it seem natural and purely coincidental that the sweeps of his broom were taking him in the direction of the two officers. He kept his eyes firmly planted on the ground as if it offered the most enthralling sight in the entire camp. Klink and Hochstetter were too engrossed in conversation to take notice of Carter, who in turn appeared to pay no attention to them.

It wasn't until a few minutes later when Hochstetter had offered a gushing goodbye to the Kommandant and left the camp that Hogan walked up to where Klink was still standing with his mouth hanging half-open and an incredulous look on his face. As Hogan approached, he snapped out of his semi-trance state, however, puffing up like a peacock.

"You know, I never realized what a pleasant man Major Hochstetter can be," Klink spontaneously offered once Hogan was within conversation distance. He sported the look of a small child who'd unexpectedly been offered some mouthwatering candy, which quite frankly looked ridiculous on him.

"Come on now, don't tell me he came here merely to exchange pleasantries, Kommandant," Hogan said flippantly, hoping Klink would still be confused enough from the uncharacteristic encounter to give his senior POW an honest answer before realizing what he was doing.

"Actually, Hogan... " There was a brief silence as Klink fiddled with his riding crop, "... it seemed that he did. As a matter of fact, he said he was going to visit a friend, and since Stalag 13 was on the way he thought he might as well drop in to say hi."

Hogan frowned. "Are you're talking about the same Gestapo as I am? Because the Gestapo I know never drops in just to say 'hi'. Surely there was something behind Hochstetter's visit to our lovely Stalag other than that?"

"Why do you find it so hard to believe that Major Hochstetter might want to come by for a little chat with the only POW camp Kommandant in Germany with a perfect record?" Klink tapped the riding crop into his open palm, sounding like he was half speaking to himself as he continued. "Word of my performance must be getting back to Berlin and so it's only natural that he wants to be on my good side once my efforts get the recognition they deserve. Being friends with a future general would be beneficial for anyone's career, including that of a Gestapo major."

Hogan only raised a disbelieving eyebrow in reply and Klink's expression grew annoyed.

"You need to stop being so suspicious of everyone, Hogan. And besides, Major Hochstetter's doings are none of your business anyway! Disss-missed!" Klink, reverting back to his usual self, abruptly turned on his heel and walked off, leaving Hogan staring after his retreating back.

Yup, something was definitely amiss here.

"... and it was really weird, the way he kept telling Klink all these things, like in how nice a shape he kept the camp, and how great a job he was doing. Didn't seem like Hochstetter one bit if you ask me," Carter finished his little exposé of the conversation he'd overheard half an hour earlier.

"I've never seen Hochstetter grin like that before, like he was the bloody Cheshire cat. Scary, if you ask me," Newkirk said to the other men gathered around the table inside Barracks Two. He took another drag on his cigarette and then blew smoke into Carter's face, making the sergeant cough.

Hogan had already given recent events some thought and considered the worst-case scenario. He never enjoyed giving voice to such suspicions in front of his men, but it was part of his job description, after all. "Well, Hochstetter is a very focused, very single-minded man. His one goal in life is exposing the sabotage ring he thinks has its center in Stalag 13. And that's what really bothers me – the only times I've ever seen him look remotely like he did today have been when he's been convinced that he's uncovered some kind of evidence of our operation here. It's just that this time, I have no idea what evidence that might even be or where he could have gotten hold of it."

"Maybe the Gestapo has caught some underground agent? Someone who knows about our operation and has been made to talk?"

"I don't think so, LeBeau. Kinch just got off the radio with London, and the underground reports no captured agents," Hogan said. He didn't like this situation one bit, and from the concerned faces around him, neither did his fellow prisoners.

"And why would he be so nice to Klink? Hochstetter usually can't stand Klink, and besides – hey Newkirk, would you stop blowing smoke in my face? It's really annoying, you know?" There was a small scuffle as Carter tried to shove the offending cigarette in Newkirk's hand away, and the Englishman shoved back.

"Knock it off, you two," Hogan's sharp voice was enough to make everyone pay attention to him again. "Whatever it means, we can pretty safely say that it's not good news for us. We'd better be on the lookout. Stay alert for anything out of the ordinary – among the guards, among the prisoners, anywhere." He made a short pause, his eyes wandering across the room, fixing the gaze of each of the men in turn. "We can't rule out the possibility that Hochstetter might have planted a spy in our camp – perhaps in that new batch of prisoners who arrived last week – someone who might already have uncovered certain things and forwarded the information to Hochstetter who's now only biding his time until he has enough evidence to expose us."

The faces of the men were serious and solemn, and Hogan sighed inwardly. He hoped this wasn't as serious as he was suspecting, but the gnawing feeling in his gut didn't do one bit to comfort him.

"Hey everyone, Hochstetter's coming! And he's heading for Klink's office!"

No sooner had the words left Carter's mouth before the men, who mere seconds ago had been caught up in a basketball game, had forgotten all about their game and were heading for Barracks Two as quickly as they could without drawing suspicion from the guards.

Once inside, they gathered around the coffee pot, listening intently as the voices of the two German officers resonated through the makeshift listening device.

"It's always such a pleasure to..."

"Oh, I assure you, Klink, the pleasure is all mine."

"And you're here because..."

"Well, as I'm sure you know there's only one man in this camp that currently interests me."

The men glanced uncomfortably at each other. No doubt there who the major was talking about.

"Of course, Major, you're here to talk about Co..."

"Mon dieu, if that animal lays even a hand on mon colonel I swear I'll..." LeBeau blurted out, fists tightly clenched.

"Shh, we can't hear what they're saying," Hogan hissed at him, and LeBeau grew quiet, but he still looked angry.

"...been here in Stalag 13 for over two years, now. As you're already aware, during that time the Gestapo has shown a certain interest in this man. Kept an eye in his general direction, so to speak."

"Ah yes, you've told me so several times, Major, but I don't really think... "

"Of course, the Luftwaffe wants to keep him here in Stalag 13. But I would advise against it. It would be in Germany's best interests to let the Gestapo have him."

LeBeau looked like he was about to blow a gasket, but Hogan silenced him by holding up his hand.

"But I still don't understand why he is of any interest to the Gestapo. Despite what you've told me, he always seemed like a very ordinary, average man to me."

"Ah, but you underestimate him, Colonel. There's a lot more to him than meets the eye. He is clever and sly, much more so than you'd think at first glance. And the Gestapo knows this."

"Well, I'm still not sure... I think... I'd rather have him stay. To tell you the truth, things have gotten a bit more ordered around here since his arrival in Stalag 13."

"Do not worry. You can easily replace him."

There was a faint rustle of what sounded like papers being waved around in the air.

"I have the document all typed out and ready. All you need to do is sign this for the Gestapo, and he's all theirs."

At this, there were cries of outrage in the barracks. LeBeau positively flew up from his chair, cursing vehemently in French. What was next said over the coffee pot was drowned out by heated chatter. Only Hogan kept his relative calm.

"Pipe down, will you!"

Reluctantly, the men obeyed.

"… some time to think about it, and then I'll come back here in a couple of days. By then, I hope you've come to the right decision. Which I'm sure you will, being a man of your astute intelligence and commendable sense of duty."

Hochstetter's words sounded almost sincere, causing several pairs of eyebrows in the room to rise.

"I... I'll think about it, Major Hochstetter. Yes, I most definitely will. In fact, I'll do more than think about it, even, now that you mention it."

"Excellent, Colonel."

There was the sound of a safe being opened and then closed, Hochstetter's document no doubt having been deposited within.

No one really cared to hear the rest of it. "Colonel, what are we going to do? If Klink signs those papers..." Carter began, putting into words what was going through the mind of every single prisoner in the room, but was interrupted by Hogan whose face was taut with jaws firmly set.

"Right now, we won't do a thing. Is that clear with everyone? Those papers haven't been signed yet, and we need to think this through and come up with a plan before we act." He picked his cap up from the table and resolutely placed it on his head in one swift motion. "First off, I'm going to go talk to Klink, see if I can pry some more information out of him. Then it's time to think about our next move."

And with that, Hogan left the barracks, the door closing behind him with a dull thud.

This time, it was Newkirk who spoke up in the silence that followed their commanding officer's departure. "Alright, I don't care who's with me or not, I'm gonna go into Klink's office and liberate those papers from his safe. Because darn it, Klink will not be signing Colonel Hogan's transfer order to the Gestapo as long as I'm alive to stop it! "

The other prisoners waited with bated breath as Newkirk fiddled with the lock to the sturdy safe in Klink's office. They'd managed to stage a little distraction at the other end of the camp which was bound to keep the Kommandant occupied for a while. Enough to give an experienced safecracker like Newkirk all the time he needed for the job.

There was a click and a thunk, and the door sprung open. Eagerly, Newkirk reached for the document that had been stashed inside, triumphantly holding it up for everyone to see.

"Well done, Newkirk!" LeBeau slapped his back, grinning. "Knew you could do it!"

Newkirk only shrugged. "Eh, it was easy. No Kraut has ever made a safe that can keep ol' Newkirk out. Now all we have to do is getting rid of this..." he took a look at the document in his hand, and the look on his face turned into one of confused incomprehension. "...recommendation letter for Corporal Weber?"

Hochstetter leaned back in his seat as the staff car trudged back to Gestapo headquarters, feeling pleased with himself. His wife would finally be happy, after having nagged him about this for months on end, now that he'd pretty much secured her brother's much-coveted transfer to the Gestapo.

A recommendation letter signed by Colonel Klink – his commanding officer – coupled with Hochstetter's own personal recommendations, was the final thing Franz Weber needed. Then, having already passed all the other scrutiny necessary to get accepted into the Gestapo, he could get a real career started, one that would be more befitting a man of his talents than being a simple Luftwaffe guard at Stalag 13.

His wife's joy once she learnt of this would be worth every bit of sucking up to the fawning, easily flattered Klink. Persuading the Kommandant to agree to the transfer had proven to be a bit of a challenge and Hochstetter had prodded him about it for weeks – after all, Franz was one of the most reliable guards in the camp and naturally Klink wanted to keep him in order to make sure his perfect record stayed intact. But there was something to be said about the old adage that a bit of good old-fashioned flattery could do wonders where other methods had failed. Especially when it came to someone like Klink who got genuine compliments about as often as the Sahara desert got snow.

Yes, his wife would be most pleased indeed. As the car swerved and turned a corner, Hochstetter started whistling to himself.