Disclaimer: As before.

Thanks again to people who have reviewed this story and added it to favourites. It's ALWAYS great to hear from you. It keeps me working. Faster.

As I can easily observe in the Traffic section, the story has got (surprisingly) many hits, so I would like to address those several hundreds of too shy or too busy visitors: if you want to leave your few words of constructive criticism, you are welcome. I don't bite. I'm in fact nicer than Stiglitz ;-).

Here comes Chapter 4. Enjoy.

4. Little misunderstanding

The truth was that she had expected teasing, even looked forward to it, ready to vent all her frustration on them as soon as they dared start their taunts. She knew that staring at her in silence would not take long, she could see that right on their faces. Especially on one face. The man sitting on the left looked at her with an odd smile, his eyes like black, glittering holes in his face. The glitter may have been an effect of the fire burning bright in front of him, but there was still something disturbing in his face, something both terrifying and insane. For a moment a quiet whisper at the back of her head, the voice of reason as she would think later, told her to turn around and run as fast as she could, but this feeble voice could not really break through her annoyance. Not a chance.

He slowly stood up, a baseball bat in his hand, and she was almost sure she recognized him; snatches of her conversations with Paul flashed through her mind as she feverishly tried to recall all and any information she had ever heard about the Basterds. Both exciting and hair-raising rumours, spiteful paragraphs in official newspapers, hymns of praise in leaflets their Parisian courier had brought them, bits of what Paul had managed to overhear from German soldiers in his tavern and echoes of his own fascination with the Jewish American Nazi-killers. So when she watched the intimidating figure come up to her unhurriedly, she felt the first twinge of uncertainty. In particular, she was no longer sure it was a good idea to yell at him, which in fact had been her first thought when she saw him rise.

His eyes locked on hers while he was approaching her like a predator sure his prey would not escape, and he could swear she shuddered when he finally stood in front of her. She was tall, her high-heeled shoes gave her an additional inch or two, but he still towered over her and it pleased Donny much to have her here, in front of him, paralyzed by what he interpreted as fear and disgust. It reminded him of the Kraut captain's wife and exactly the same combination he had seen on her face. His smile grew wider, but it was by no means pleasant.

'You know something, Hirschberg', he said, not even averting his gaze from her face, 'I wonder why these Nazi bitches always have such damn good tits.'

She did not know the last word he used and she could only guess its meaning, but the phrase 'Nazi bitch' was perfectly understandable. She glared at him in both disbelief and indignation and he was taken aback by the fact that she probably knew what he had said. But her linguistic abilities did not change anything indeed.

Hirschberg let out a nervous giggle and stood up, approaching her swiftly from the other side and she almost felt his breath on her neck when she took an unconscious step back. The one in front of her, who must have been Donowitz, the Bear Jew as Germans called him, smiled at her without a hint of amiability. He raised the bat he held and she flinched, both angry and suddenly terrified of what the hell he was going to do, but he simply moved the bat close to her face, so close that she could see dark stains smeared on its top.

'Can you smell it?', he asked softly and both the gesture and his unexpected tone that followed it made her freeze to the spot. 'Can you smell Nazi blood?'

And then he gently, almost tenderly, touched her cheek with the side of his bat watching her flinch, observing her with the excitement of a scientist carrying out a new experiment, both fascinating and dangerous. Then, still gently yet inevitably, his bat slid down to her neck and then to her neckline, as if he had been going to outline her form from top to bottom. That woke her up. She fiercely pushed the bat aside and he caught her wrist at once, as if he was waiting for exactly that move.

'Don't touch me!', she warned in English and although she spoke with a foreign accent, the message was clear.

But he only gave a derisive laugh and his other hand shot forward and cupped her breast. Not really squeezing it; at least at that moment the gesture was all for effect, to make her know her place. Which she obviously did not want to accept easily, as she slapped him across the face as hard and fast as she could.

He withdrew his hand. For a moment he just looked at her in cold fury, considering a retaliatory action. He could easily return the blow, but was sure that would leave a damage he did not want to leave. At least not yet.

'Hirschberg, her hands!', he eventually ordered and the man behind her yanked her arms backwards before she had time to blink.

Donny smiled at her I-don't-believe-it's-actually-happening expression and put his hands on her shoulders, as if in a reassuring gesture. And before she could judge the true meaning behind this, his hands suddenly slid down to the neckline of her dress, his fingers gripped the soft fabric and he pulled it forcefully down in one quick movement.

'Stiglitz!', she screamed through the sound of the torn material and watched in disbelief as the top of her dress was simply split in half down to her waist, revealing her bra and exposing her skin to the cold evening air.

'Stop it!', Aldo's voice was like a whip on his back and Donny's hands stopped at once before they could even touch the girl again, the next step he had been planning. Hirschberg almost jumped and released her hands at once, trying to sneak away back to the fire when the lieutenant's angry stare pinned him to the ground when he was halfway there.

And then Stiglitz rushed towards her, nearly knocking the Bear Jew out of the way, which was an unusual development, as being the most dangerous beasts in the squad, they normally avoided a confrontation as much as possible. Donny watched in astonishment as the German psycho took off his jacket cursing under his breath and was trying to wrap it around the girl's shaking form, and he did not even show a slightest sign of impatience when she pushed his hands away time after time, before she finally gave up and let him help her put her arms in the sleeves and zip her in, as if she had been a child that needed to be looked after.

Donny watched the whole scene, his eyes growing bigger with every second. And then she just looked him straight in the face with so much hatred and disgust that he instinctively took a few steps back. Not that he was scared or something, the whole idea being absolutely ridiculous, but he felt a sudden desire to put some distance between himself and the girl, whoever the fuck she was, not to mention her unexpected protector. He even turned around. Only to meet Aldo's furious face.

'Damnit, Donovitz!'

'She slapped me', Donny said as a kind of explanation.

'Slapped you for nothing?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you to take care of her!'

'You did, lieutenant', he admitted, still confused about the whole fuss.

'So tell me which fucking part of take care of you don't comprehend?!'

Donny shrugged helplessly.

'You always tell me to take care of Krauts we catch alive and that doesn't mean I am to offer them coffee or something…', he started uncertain if it was a good line of defence.

It definitely was not. Aldo swore under his breath, making a mental note to discuss the obviously crucial problem of order interpretation. Not only with Donowitz. With all his men. In the nearest future. He looked at the girl standing a few metres from him and ignoring Stiglitz's quiet attempts at conversation.

'Are you all right, miss?', he asked politely in what he supposed was a reassuring voice, since he was rather positive she did not know English. It turned out, however, that she did.

'I'm far away from all right', she spat furiously.

'I'm terribly sorry for this little misunderstanding…'

'Misunderstanding?!,' she repeated scowling, 'Misunderstanding!? You should keep this oaf on a chain!'

Aldo's eyes glittered dangerously, his hand going automatically to his pocket and stopping in midair as he realized he had left the snuff box in his tent. So the direction was changed and his hand shot up to his head, his fingers running through his dirty hair.

Stiglitz, who knew these symptoms perfectly well, approached the commander in two steps.

'I think she needs just a few minutes to calm down, sir. Considering the circumstances.'

Aldo gave him a nasty smile as the first seeds of irritation had already started to sprout in front of his eyes. He breathed in with a hiss and looked at the girl once again. He did not have any fucking time to wait for her to kindly calm down. And no, absolutely no, bloody wench would ever give him good advice on how he should treat his men. Not to mention in their presence.

'Do you want to submit an official complaint about my soldier's behaviour?', he asked softly, but there was a clearly dangerous edge to his voice and Stiglitz turned back to her to see if she had felt it too.

She did not. Or she just chose to ignore it. And she looked no more calmer than before.

'Listen, you…', she started, her eyes sending furious sparks at the three of them, but she was suddenly distracted by something she saw in Stiglitz's face, which silenced her almost at once, though she was not sure what exactly it was. Perhaps his piercing eyes. Perhaps his lips pressed into a tight line of disapproval. And maybe a slight movement of his head. Thus she became silent and for a long moment no one said a word.

Aldo's lips stretched in a smug smile. At least she was reasonable enough to know when to shut the fuck up.

'Listen, miss,' he said in a drawl, 'I may be a man of many virtues, which you have probably heard of, but I can assure you I have only enough patience for my soldiers. So either you give up the idea of throwing a tantrum here or you will get to know the less pleasant part of myself. Firsthand. Understand?'

She nodded reluctantly.

'Good. So I am asking you once again. Do you want to submit an official complaint about my soldier's behaviour?'

She stared at him blankly for a while before her eyes shifted once more to Stiglitz's face and she saw him shake his head slightly. Again.

'No,' she said, hating herself for following Stiglitz's suggestion, but at the same time trusting that what he suggested was the best tactic. Considering the circumstances.

Donny's face brightened in a grin and she glared at him again, but saw, not without satisfaction, that her fingers had left quite a nice pattern on his right cheek that was visible even in this little light coming from the fire.

Aldo also smiled at her.

'Glad you're not a troublemaker.'

'Troublemaker?', she snorted, his words igniting the little spark she thought had already gone out.

The lieutenant almost groaned, his smile faded at once.

'All right. Don't start it again. It was nothing personal, just a kinda regrettable misunderstanding. We regret it happened. Donowitz regrets it,' he cast an angry glance at his second in command. 'Damnit, Donowitz, apologize to her so that we can finally talk business.'

'I'm sorry for the dress. I can make amends later,' Donny gave her a suggestive smile. 'If you like,' he added as an afterthought.

'Just stay away from me,' she glared at him again and Aldo eyed her critically.

'Apologies accepted?', he inquired.

'I guess so,' she shrugged.

'Good. So let's start again. As you probably know I'm Lt. Aldo Raine.'

'Sophie Larmount,' she answered automatically and it was when Stiglitz decided to cut in. Probably to hammer the final nail in her coffin, as she would think much later.

'Her name is Natalia Konarska.'

She froze. She might not have remembered well all the details of that fatal evening two years ago, but she was sure, more than sure in fact, that she had never given him her surname, although he asked twice. And her brother had known better than to introduce himself to a German soldier. So she just stared at him for what was long enough for Aldo to give an impatient snort. The whole issue turned out to be more complicated than he had originally thought, but he could still handle it.

'Would you care to explain me this considerable difference in yours and Hugo's version?,' he asked, but she ignored him, her eyes still on Stiglitz's immovable face.

'How do you know…?', she asked, and as much as he truly and honestly did not tolerate disrespect Aldo decided to wait for another turn of events, his eyes narrowed in cool calculation.

Stiglitz shrugged his shoulders, his expression an impassive mask.

'I checked on you then', he explained in an attempt to sound indifferent.

Yet he failed horribly. A sudden suspicion, still vague and imprecise, grew in her and she voiced it without thinking much.

'Did you check on me after or before?'

Stiglitz stared at her and Aldo, who observed the whole scene with ultimate attention, could swear his German sergeant was rather uncomfortable to answer this question. Yet the reply eventually came out of his mouth. Brief.

'Both after and before.'

The colour completely left her face and she suddenly felt a metallic taste on her lips.

'You told me it was a coincidence!', she said in a strained voice she hardly recognized as her own.

'It was. I found out about you three hours before. By accident.'

'They took my mum to Auschwitz! You could…', but Stiglitz cut her off in mid-phrase.

'I couldn't do nothing more than I did!,' he said, his voice harsh and a bit louder than before. 'By the time I got there they had already been in your flat! Luckily, you had been out. So I could only wait for you to warn you. That's all.'

She shook her head violently, her arms crossed and angry tears beginning to cloud her vision.

'Why did you bother at all?'

Stiglitz swore quietly and came up to her, his hand gently and hesitantly touching her shoulder. At least she did not knock it off. He murmured something to her and she was about to reply, but Aldo decided it was a good moment to stop the show. Before Donowitz, who was now observing the whole scene with both interest and amusement could ruin it with a crude comment.

'Listen, lady. I'll come straight to the point. I can see you have a kinda personal thing with one of my soldiers and I'm sure you can discuss it later in private. But I asked you a question you haven't cared to answer yet and I'm becoming a bit impatient to hear the answer.'

She looked at him absent-mindedly and his smile became more vicious.

'The different names you are known under. I'm positive the answer is very simple. Yet I'm dying to know it.'

He could see well that she was more than reluctant to answer. Too bad.

'My name is Natalia Konarska,' she finally confirmed.

'Russian?,' Donowitz had finally decided to join in.

'Polish,' Stiglitz answered for her.

'My mother was French,' she added reluctantly and lowered her eyes.

'Oh really?', Aldo raised an eyebrow. 'And what about the name you gave me before? Sophie…?'

'Sophie Larmount. It's the name I use in France. Belonged to my cousin.'

'Belonged?', Aldo drawled annoyed. Once the damned wench started to speak, she spoke in riddles. Probably in an attempt to drive him insane.

'She … she died four years ago. In Switzerland.'

'And she willed her name to you?', Aldo snorted. He did not understand half of what she was talking about. 'Can you elaborate your answers? I'm quite positive you've got an interesting story to tell.'

'Sophie!', a child's voice broke the silence before she opened her mouth and Aldo only managed to compose his features when Wicki appeared in the clearing carrying a child (child??!!) in his arms. A little girl, to make things even worse.