A/N: I la la love Inglorious Basterds, and after seeing it for the millionth time I figured I should write something about it, aha.


It would seem that Ada Schwartz looked, sounded and acted like a proper German woman should. Ada, though, applied to only two of those things: she had come from a family where blue eyes and bright blond hair were common, and the area she grew up in granted her with a thick German accent. She hated all of these features, as they made her more of a target to be called a 'Nazi's wife' with a single glance.

She didn't feel pity or sadness for not fitting into the last category; however Ada didn't feel anything these days, really. She had been witness to cruelty and general unkindness, something she would define Germany as. The effects of what her husband called "the only way to keep humanity alive" were what made her go against her country and its rules.

Ada simply hated Germany, but not all the people in it. Her husband, Klaus, was one of them. She had a strong love for her husband, without a doubt, but she also had a strong resentment for his occupation. Klaus was not cruel to his wife, though. He treated her well and bought her a new dress whenever she asked, and he treated their son just as well as her. Ada hated when Klaus got up early and left in that uniform. Ada hated that she was made to talk to his 'friends' who were in the same game as him. Ada hated that her husband was a Nazi.


The bed sheets had fallen to the floor, which was one of the reasons for Ada waking up. The cold of the night had hit her body harshly and she opened her eyes, startled, curious for the cause of the disruption.

"Mother! Outside! There's fire everywhere!" Came the cry of her child, and never had she seen her son so startled. Frederick stood there, in his blue and white pajamas, tears streaming down his face. His normally calm eyes were wide with worry, and his blonde hair was a tussled mess.

Sitting up, she grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the bed. "Stay here," she ordered. Worry taking over her, she looked out the window and onto the town. Her son had described the scene in a short manner, but he was correct. Fire was all she could see. Heart racing, she turned back around. It was a bombing, without any question. It didn't seem fair that her son had to witness it, and he was her first thought: where would she take him? Everything was either destroyed or was about to be. "Frederick, love, come here," she called. Her son rushed over and fell into her arms. "I want you to get your shoes and coat – we're leaving."

"But-"

"Now!"

Frederick rushed off to his room. Ada wished someone was there to help her, she needed guidance herself. Her husband was off fighting, probably killing a large amount of people who had caused no harm at that very moment. She followed the same instructions she gave her son, fetching a coat and a pair of shoes. There was no need for any memories to be retrieved; all the photos and letters could be left. She felt she must leave everything behind that reminded her of Germany.

Frederick arrived quicker than expected, his face still tear stained. The attentive mother wanted to do more for her child, but in her position, there was nothing, so she simply left him bring his favourite stuffed bear. Directing him outside, she prepared herself for what might come, but the sight before her was worse than imagined, and for a minute she felt bad for the German soldiers. Shaking the thought away (she thought it was a horrible one), she dragged her son through the crowded street. All she could hear were people screaming and crying, and she tried her hardest not to break down. It took a long time to get away from the mess. From the people. From Germany.

Ada hears it before she feels it. A strong hand is around her right shoulder and the other quickly grips her wrist, pulling it behind her back. Her blue eyes quickly dart to Erich who looks up at his mother, scared, his mother starting to quiver. "Do you speak English?"

She nods quickly, her breathing to fast to let her talk properly.

"Is that your son?" The voice belongs to a male and he clearly has an American accent, making her even more worried.

"Yes, yes, that's my son Erich," she says, her voice showing clear signs of fear.

"Tell him to sit down and not to move – in English. I don't want any secret talks about tryin' to kill me in German." he explains.

"Erich, love," she starts, "Sit – sit down, just listen to the man, please." He looks at her, and then to the person behind her, before he gives her a defeated nod and sits down, his legs crossing. The boy looks just as frightened as her, and she hates that her son looks that way. She feels both her hands coming loose from the grip and is set down roughly on the ground by her child. Finally, she sees the man: his hair is dark as are his eyes, and his height makes her feel completely tiny. His uniform is dirty, and the fact that the uniform looks so proudly designed by the United States of America makes her feel insanely ashamed to call Germany her home.

He stares at them both for a brief minute before talking. "What's your name?"

The woman wants to lie but thinks better. "Ada. Ada Schwartz."

"Ms or Mrs?"

"Mrs."

"You from Dresden?"

"Yes."

"First of all, I just want you to know, before the two of you fall down dead out of fear, I don't kill the family of Nazis," he says, his eyes looking off into the distance.

Offended by the statement she speaks up. "How do you know I'm the wife of a Nazi?"

Shrugging, he made circles around the both of them. "Well am I wrong?" She doesn't answer, she instead bites her lip, and when the solider finished making the shape around them he had smirk on his face. "Didn't think so. You look the part."

Ada hates that even with people outside of Germany, they still knew who she was. They really had not right to look down on her, it wasn't like she was the one who killed people. She tried her best to ignore the feeling that is growing inside of us. "What are you going to with us then? Surely, even if I am the wife of a Nazi, you wouldn't hurt a woman or her child, instead of simply killing us."

"You're right," he nodded, "I wouldn't. I don't go by those rules. This hasn't happened before, at least to me," he shrugged. "You'll both be coming with me instead."

The blonde shook her head. "Where are you taking us?"

"Down South, where our camp is-"

"With other American soldiers?" She gasps.

The man looks at her. "I told you, we're not going to hurt you. Unless you give us a reason to." Not knowing what to say, Ada nodded. It's all she can do. "Get up, and don't try anything funny," he ordered.

Ada slowly got up, holding her son's hands with her. "Get up, darling," she said while the man took her other arm, dragging her along with him. She wasn't sure what to do, if her husband would somehow find out about what happened and would come looking for her. He must have heard by now and would be even angrier with America.

"What are you doing wondering about in France?" He asked her as they began to walk through the trees.

"Dresden was destroyed. I was not going back to Germany again, not with the Nazis roaming around and not with the rest of the world dropping bombs. We made our way to France," she explained. She had spend weeks travelling form her home to France and didn't want to relive it, so instead cut the story down.

"And then you met me." He said sarcastically.

"Yes." The walk was fine at first, and Erich looked okay until he began to stagger a little. "We need to stop," Ada said.

Annoyed look on his face, the man turned to face her. "What?"

"My son is tired, he's only small. He needs to rest."

"We're not resting."

"He isn't a solider like you." She snapped.

"Fuck," he muttered, and Ada was a little annoyed that he swore in front of her child. She was going to scold him until he picked her little boy up and held him with on arm, his other grasping hers again. "We're not stopping, we're nearly there anyway." Erich looked surprised at first, his eyes looking at his mother for comfort. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid." The solider continued. "I'm not gonna hurt you." And he didn't sound like he was lying, so maybe it was going to be alright. But at that point, she didn't know who or what to believe.

When he had said they were getting closer, Ada began to worry even more. This man might be fine with the situation, but other American soldiers were not going to as nice. They hated Germany, which means they must hate her. Her blue eyes widened when the three of them entered a small area with soldiers gathered around together. She didn't think there would be this many.

"What the fuck Donowitz?" Was the first thing she heard from a man with a moustache, who came storming over, his eyes blazing. "What the hell is this?" His Southern accent was thick with anger.

"Let me explain," he said, handing Erich back to Ada, who clung to his mother.

"Dresden is gone, sir. I found her and her kid wondering about. She needed help."

"So you fuckin' brought the girl back here? She's a Kraut!"

He didn't just call her that…

"She would of died, Lieutenant." The man fought back.

"Christ Donowitz." The man muttered, eyeing her. "What's wrong with ya? Tryin' to save the damsel in distress? "He shrugged, looking at Ada for a moment. "What's your name, then?"

Ada felt nervous with everyone watching her. The other soldiers were all staring at her and she only wanted to protect her son. Clearing her throat, she spoke. "A-Ada."

"What about your boy?"

"Erich."

"Gimme one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" He asked.

Ada didn't know how to reply. "Because I'm a mother." She needed a better reason than that. "And… I'm American in the sense that I don't like Nazis either."

One of the soldiers in the crowd laughed. "Yeah, right! You look just like the type of girl Hitler wants giving birth his kids." The other soldiers laughed, except for the one that helped her, and she glad someone was at least giving her some form of compassion.

Ada narrowed her eyes at the man. "I am a married a woman, I wouldn't commit adultery."

"You're German," he replied, "You're all bred to be liars."

"Shut the fuck up, Utivitch." A man spoke, whose accent sounded German, which made no sense at all.

"Sorry Wicki."

"Leave the Kraut alone," the man who saved her said. It was comforting, even if an insult was thrown in there too, that someone was defending her.

"Looks like Donny wants the Kraut to himself…" Another soldier said.

"I don't need this," Ada snapped, insulted. "I did not ask for this man's help. He brought me here and believe it or not, I'm not like most German women. I regret that my husband is a Nazi but there is nothing I can do about it. He kills, you kill. I don't want anyone dying and I hate Hitler just as much as the next American. So please, stop with the insults."

That seemed to shut them up, and it even looked like that man… Donny… had a smirk on his face.

"Donny's right, leave 'er alone. She's got a kid, she can't be too bad."

"Aldo, what are we gonna do with her?" A small man asked.

Aldo looked at her, as if analysing her to see if she was good enough. "She'll stay 'til we can work somethin' out."

"What about her kid?" The man called Wicki asked.

"We'll treat 'em both good. Who knows, we might turn little Erich into a Basterd," he smirked.


Ada sat there awkwardly as the men around her joked and laughed. She was sitting behind them, not sure what to do. Erich had fallen asleep quicker than usual and was resting his head in her lap. She was worried for him. Her son was like her: he didn't understand the way things were or the hate Hitler had. All he wanted was his daddy home, which was rare.

She thought about Klaus, her Klaus. He was lovely and sweet but his thoughts on the world were horrible, just like Hitler's. She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her. Her thoughts were interrupted when Donny came waltzing over. "Yes?"

He shrugged. "You know if you want the rest of the boys to welcome you more, you should probably talk to 'em."

"I'm shy."

"Come on."

"Why do you care?" She asked, stroking her son's hair.

"You look lonely." He said, smirking.

Ada shook her head. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you hate your husband." Donny said quickly.

"I said I hate Nazis, not my husband."

"Your husband's a Nazi." He whispered.

Not replying, Ada looked down at Erich.

"How old is he?" Donny asked.

"Six."

"Is he like his old man?"

"He's kind and gentle like his father, yes. But he is not violent, he's a good boy. He hates Hitler just like you and I."

Donny raised an eyebrow, looking as if he didn't understand. "Why are you married to him if you can't stand his morals?"

Sighing, Ada wondered that herself. "My husband wasn't always a Nazi," she spoke softly. "He wasn't always your enemy."

"Does he treat you good?"

"Of course," Ada nodded, "I wouldn't stay with him if he didn't."

"And you're fine with his occupation?"

Letting out a sarcastic laugh, she shook her head. "Is your wife happy you're killing people, whoever they may be?"

"I'm not married," he shrugged. "The girls in Boston couldn't handle me," he grinned. Ada laughed, shaking her head again. Donny stared at her, then at the sleeping figure in her lap. "Why don't you sleep? We'll be makin' a lot of land tomorrow."

"I can't sleep. I need to look after Erich."

Rolling his eyes, he replied. "We're not gonna hurt you. You might be as German as the next solider we kill, but you're a lady first. We don't kill ladies unless they try to kill us."

"You're such a gentleman, Donny." He stared at her for a moment and she felt embarrassed, having it been a while since any man had looked at her. She hadn't seen her husband in weeks. "What?"

"It's just fuckin' crazy hearin' a German woman call me Donny," he shrugged. "The American girls sound a hell of a lot different."

Ada felt relieved; it was nice to know she was beginning to feel some sort of a connection with one of these men. "Your language is foul," she laughed, shaking her head, trying to rid of the attraction she had for him.