A/N: Okay, since I got so much awesome feedback(everyone seemed to love me treating poor Anya like a dog…not really sure what that says about my audience, but I love them none the less), I decided to update, quicker…? So thanks to all that reviewed, and I hope you like this chapter! I'll try to keep the humor coming. Also if you look on my profile page, Anya's pic is up there. And so is my Donny/OC story and a poll about this story.

-

Aldo clicked his tongue as he sharpened the blade of his most prized possession. Night had fallen, and along with it, a problem had presented itself.

The girl. Naturally the men had taken a liking to her, but after almost a year without so much as a pin up calendar, Aldo was sure they'd be appreciative of anything with breasts. Which meant giving her a chance to bathe would be risky, and mostly likely awkward for the poor thing.

He ran the whetstone along the smooth blade as it shimmered in the dark glow moonlight. Hm. His biggest problem, of course, being Donny, but Utivich was a close second. The boy was either too young, or simply too naïve to realize she had no sexual interest in him. In fact, majority of the time it seemed he annoyed her, but Aldo supposed the young man was simply smitten.

Turning his blue eyes over to the pair, he watched as Utivich continued to point out who was who, and Anya repeat the name. At least, that's what he assumed she was doing, as he was too far away to actually hear. Aldo smirked as Anya patted the boy's hand again. Maybe she didn't mind him so much after all.

-

"Alright, Donny you go with 'em."

"What, why?!" Donowitz snapped at his officer.

"Because I said so, that's why." Aldo gave him a look, daring him to question his authority again, and the younger man stood.

"Fine." Sighing, as he got up, Donny went and joined Hugo and Wilhelm in the truck.

Utivich followed him with his eyes as he past, making his way over to Aldo. "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"How will they know what size to get? I mean, none of them have sisters or kids." He said, sneaking a glance in the young woman's direction.

Aldo took out his canister of snuff, "Hugo had a wife back in the day, 'bout her size."

"He did?!" Smithson's brows shot up as he stood, awestruck by the very thought of it.

"Mhm." Aldo inhaled some of the fine tobacco, "Seem a little surprised there, son. What? You didn't know Hugo had a woman?"

"No."

"Yes, well, he doesn't like t'a talk about it, so it's best ya keep this little tidbit to yerself." Aldo suggested, noticing the boy's eyes dart behind him. "You still teachin' Anyeh English?"

"Oh, um," Smithson cleared his throat and dropped his attention back to his Lieutenant. "Wicki says she's improving, and she seems to know most of our names now…"

The older man leaned a little closer to him, "but…"

"But I don't seem to be helping that much." Utivich eyes flickered over to Anya, who was listening quietly to whatever Kagan and Hirschberg seemed to be saying. "I think I might be getting in the way, sir."

"Hm." If he allowed himself to be perfectly honest, Aldo knew the boy's intentions were, maybe not completely innocent, but for the most part, harmless. Besides, if he thought he was helping, chances are Utivich wouldn't do anything stupid. Like talk to Hugo about his (now deceased) wife. Smithson watched Aldo scratch his scar, "Well, was it Wicki's idea to teach her our names?"

"No." Utivich said, shrugging slightly, "I guess not."

"So I think it's safe t'a safe, yer helping." Aldo offered his a strained smile as a wide, youthful grin stretched across the Private's face.

"Thank you, sir."

The man simply nodding, and shoed him away with his hand. "Go get the girl."

Worry shone in his bright blue eyes a moment, but Smithson nodded. "Yes sir."

-

Raine sat on a rock next to the river, looking over the hill for any of his men who dare peep in on the girl's bath.

Anya, however, couldn't give less of a fuck. The dirty river may have well have been a French bath tub. Wadding in the water, she scrubbed every speck of dirt and filth off, making sure to take care of the yellowing bruises along the inside of her thighs. Cursing every man she could think of (that wronged her), Anya dunked herself under the crisp water. Emerging a few moments later, to Aldo's hollering.

"Damnit, Hirschberg, you cut that out!"

"I didn't do nothin'! Wicki told me to send over the clothes!"

"Well, chuck it over here, don't you come any closer."

Gerald sighed, disappointed, and threw the brown papered package over to him. Noticing the blue eyes on him he waved, "Hi, Anya!"

"Allo, Gerald!" Anya replied, waving back, but made sure to keep her shoulders under the frigid waters.

Hirschberg's smirk dropped once he caught sight of Aldo's glare.

"Go."

And he was gone.

"Anyeh!" Raine motioned for her to get out of the water. "I'mma leave this package right here, and when yer ready, you come and g'it it!"

Sighing he watched her tilt her head. Knowing she most likely didn't understand a word he was saying, he pulled his knife out, and saw how she quickly swam a little further from him. "No! Anyeh! Get-it's for the-" He held the package up, but she didn't move. Sitting back on his rock, Aldo popped the string off with his blade. Pulling the clothing from the paper, he set it next to him and stood. Pointing to the hill, he offered her a smile before turning to leave.

Anya watched him retreat, and made sure he, and every other basterd, was out of site before stepping out of the water. Quickly pulling a man's shirt over her head, she cocked her head as she eyed one of the other garments.

She held it up. Why had they brought her tiny shorts? Shrugging, Anya simply pulled on the tan pants, and held the tiny shorts in her hand. "Hm."

Meanwhile, just over the hill top, Donny was fuming, and in the midst of a tantrum.

"Are you mother fucks, tellin' me, we got a naked chick, like, fifty feet away, and n'un'a ya bother to go look?!"

"Well," Omar smirked, "She's not naked anymore."

The Bear Jew whipped around to see Anya making her way down the hill. "God damnit."

Gerald smirked, "I got to see shoulder."

"Don't play with me, Hirschberg."

The short man nodded, and Smithson, who had been quiet through out the exchange, shook his head. He doubted Anya would let Gerald see her shoulders.

Unaware of their…somewhat lewd conversation, the girl made her way over to Wicki and Hugo, who were seated next to Aldo just outside the truck.

"Je vous remercie , pour un jour vêtements."("Thank you, for the clothes.") Anya hesitated a moment, before pulling the small shorts from her pocket. "Mais Se que-" ("But what-")

The sentence wasn't even out of her mouth before Aldo and Hugo started laughing, Wicki on the other hand, flushed red as he snatched the garment from her hand.

"Wh-why would you buy those for her?!" Aldo said, trying to calm his hysterics.

"I didn't! The shop keeper must have put them in the bag!" Wicki insisted, tossing the shorts into the truck.

Hugo chuckled as the woman shuffled awkwardly next to them. Aldo gave her a pat on the back, as she passed him his jacket, neatly folded. "Good girl."

"Ils sont seulement boys sous usure."("They are just boys underwear.") Wicki said, watching her frown.

"J'ai jamais vu boys sous-vêtements semblable à thanksgiving."("I've never seen boys underwear like that.")

A smirk played over the man's face as the others simply watched. "Que-"("How-")

"I have brothers." She snapped, her blue eyes narrowing slightly at the implication.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Wicki gave her a small smile. Aldo on the other hand, motioned for Hugo to take out what he had shown him earlier. Pulling a tiny box from his front lapel, the German gently placed it in Anya's hand.

"We were hopin' while yer here you'd make some repairs." Aldo said; as she popped open the tiny box. "You know how to sew, right?"

Beaming, Anya fingered one of the needles. Looking from man to man (…to man), Anya snapped it closed and held it tightly to her chest. For a second, they thought she would cry, and they all leaned back slightly. But she didn't. She just smiled at them and then threw in a curtsy for good measure. Not that it was easy, yanking on the leg of her pants and bending her knees only slightly caused her to stumble a bit, but she thought she held herself together pretty well.

-

A few minutes later, Anya sat across from Omar on the hill. He watched with subdued curiosity as her nimble fingers flicked over his jacket. Stitching and mending every broken string along the hem, he tilted his head. It was kind of hypnotic. Trying to blink himself out of his daze he looked up to the young woman's passive face. He supposed she was quite pretty. Not glamorous or awe strikingly beautiful, but her large blue eyes were calming and sweet. Reddish hair framed her face and was curling slightly. Her eyes went back to her hands as it held the coat up for inspection.

"I's g'od?" Anya asked, biting her bottom lip as Omar took it from her.

"It's great, thanks." He said, smiling slightly at how pleased she looked. "English is going well?"

She blinked those warm blues at him a moment before nodding, "Vicki say i's g'od."

Chuckling he nodded, "I figured. Know any new words?"

"V'erds like yes, and vo'ter."

"You mean water." Omar corrected gently as she tilted her head again.

"I's vut I say-d, vo'ter."

"Wa-ter." He said, smiling slightly at her confused features. "It's a w."

Anya shook her head. "No."

"No?" Omar quirked a defined brow as she nodded. "This really isn't the kind of thing you say no to, sweetheart."

She stopped her handy work for a moment and pointed a finger at him. "No." Then to herself, "I s'ay."

"Anya-"

"Shh." Mimicking the motion Aldo had made at her days prior, she smiled underneath her finger. "No."

"Fine. No." He sighed.

"Y-es." She smiled, her eyes drifting to another man behind him. Omar didn't have to turn around to know who she was looking at.

"So, do have a boyfriend in town?" He asked, smirking ever so slightly.

"Vut?" Anya quirked a brow, "d'his v'erd is not-"

Omar nodded quickly, "okay, never mind. Husband? You know like a man-" he gestured to himself.

"Boy?"

"No." He said, a little insulted, "man. Like a boy but you know, bigger."

Anya tucked her legs to her chest, "Alyo?"

"I don't-" Omar shook his head, puzzled. Stupid accent.

Her blue eyes narrowed ever so subtly in annoyance. Stupid Americans. "All-toe."

"All toe?" Omar looked down at his feet and Anya threw her head back in unbridled frustration. Glaring up at the white fluffy clouds, she demanded God tell her what she had done to deserve this. I bet this is because I hid Pavel's school books when we were children, she concluded.

"Al…oh!" Omar nodded, and Anya mimicked the movement mocking him somewhat. "You mean Aldo."

"Y'es. Alyo." She said, convinced she was repeating it flawlessly. Omar rolled his dark brown eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. This chick was too much.

"Omar! Y'er shift!" Donny called, and Omar stood. Nodding his thanks (and goodbyes) he grinned as he shrugged on the jacket.

Giving him a lame wave, Anya laid back against the wilting leaves and grass. The sun was harsh against her pale skin, but she paid it no mind. Especially since it was soon blocked out by a large form.

"Ms Ledsen."

Sitting up, she smiled at him, "Allo, Hugo."

The German held up a shirt, red stains lining the sleeves and the shoulder almost completely slit from the rest of the garment. "Would you…?"

Taking it from his large hands, Anya hastily turned it inside out. She wanted to ask what had happened to cause the tear, but, noting the blood, she kept quiet as he took Omar's place across from her.

The pair sat in silence as she spun a piece of thread from the spool. Anya, focused on her task, didn't notice how he wouldn't meet her eyes, or even look directly back at her. It wasn't so much that…they looked alike. Just when the girl smiled, her ghost flickered behind it.

Anya with her light hair and pale complexion was nothing like his Hanna. The only real comparison was their dreamy eyes and bright smile. So he turned from her, choosing to watch her hands instead of her face.

-

Wicki lit a cigarette as he and Smithson stood guard. The day had been long and dull. Not to mention freakishly hot, even for August. Wilhelm wasn't one to gossip, or one to even start a conversation, but this was just too tempting.

"So, Ms Ledsen."

Utivich peeked at him in his puerperal vision. "What about her?"

"She is a very pretty girl." The older man said, watching his side of the forest carelessly. "Not to mention educated."

"Yeah…" The Little One was staring out right at him now, not entirely sure where his friend was going with this.

"I'm sure she has many suitors." Wicki pressed, smirking at his expression.

Utivich dropped his eyes to the ground, "I'm sure she has."

Wilhelm, although he was sensitive (okay, maybe not sensitive, but understanding perhaps) to the young man's affections involving Ms Anya, but they really knew nothing about the girl. Except that she was a Russian music teacher, who had been living in France for three years.

"Do you have any idea of her intentions for after the war?" the corporal asked.

"No, I imagined she want to-" Smithson cleared his throat, "oh."

"You understand where I'm going with this?" Wicki said, tilting his head to look in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

The private nodded, "you think she'll want to go back to Russia. Back to her family."

"Of course she will. Young unmarried woman, where else would she go?"

Back to Manhattan with me, he mused, but of course didn't speak it out loud. "I don't know, find another school in France?"

Wicki chuckled and quirked a brow, "why the hell would she do something like that? It's not as though she had a very endearing French experience."

"Good point." The younger sighed, anxiousfor the conversation to end. "Thought of any new words for her?"

"Well, right before we left, Omar asked we teach her what man meant, and husband." Wicki chuckled, "I don't think they can make out her accent quite as well as we can."

"Yeah." Smithson said, smiling softly at the thought of her accent. He liked it. It was cute. "She seems to catch on pretty well."

"Yes. Lucky she was a fast learner, or else we might have a real problem on our hands." Wicki smirked again, "imagine if she kept having to use hand signals?"

Utivich flushed pink as he chuckled nervously, "yeah."

"Hm. Maybe next we should teach her canteen." The man grinned as the other groaned.

A/N: okay, I'm not trying to offend any one with the accent. And if you don't like it, I can drop it...shoulders would be a big deal in the forties right?

Also I'd like to again throw out that a poll is now up on my page concerning this story and a link to a photo of the actress I would have chosen to play Anya. I hope you don't mind the little bit of…creative-ness I through into Hugo's character as well, as I intend to write a one-shot expanding on this within the next week or so.