[ It takes a great deal of gumption to lean in, when the good Major's approach predicts more hospital food than Christmas spirit in his future - Dorian wants that on the record.

He hisses, protesting the brutality and Klaus' unfortunate blindness (very sad, Major, do expect a fruit basket). ]

I bill by the bruise, dear boy, bill by the bruise.

[ And this is the sort of bland, nonchalant stare that says, And you're about to be charged five times the going rate.

But see here, Eberbach, this is work rather than play, and an Eroica unequipped to handle a professional puzzle sees him both immensely frustrated and oddly entertained. He nods to the mistletoe again, careful to stare at the nearby chandelier after in a show of interest in the household's interior decorations. ]

Now, let Daddy Dorian improve your education: you're looking at what's there, aren't you? Tsk. Amateur's folly. Mind, completely excusable until your... third? Third job. [ Ahem. Hint, Major: this is far past your third job. ] Follow the light play until it finally occurs to your beastly head that drupes are neither transparent, nor particularly reflective.