April 2nd, 1943; Friday

The sun finally decided to bless Paris with its presence, and the exceptionally bright rays flooding through the multitude of windows in Krista's Saint James penthouse suite. The sunlight warmed the room up to a temperature that felt slightly too warm to be comfortable, even though it was still early spring. She opened the largest window in the room as well as the sliding glass door that led to the balcony with the ideal view of both the Seine River and the Eiffel Tower.

With the little remaining money she had remaining in her possession, she decided to head out to find a good restaurant to grab some mid-evening food. What she really wanted was a greasy pepperoni pizza and an order of fried mushrooms from her local pizza shop 'Rizzo's', but she would have to settle for something else.

She passed by many restaurants and cafés, but none of them seemed very appealing to her stomach's desires. She wasn't in the mood for pastries and coffee, nor for calf brains. Fuck French food.

Her stomach growled when she finally stumbled upon a deli a few blocks away from the Eiffel Tower and situated along the river. It was small and quaint with the option of either indoor or outdoor seating. The tables outside were surrounded by an ornate metal fence, while the indoor seating was blessed with several overhead fans.

After pondering for longer than she'd like to have, she finally settled on the cook's recommendation and sat down in a cozy corner lit by dim overhead lights and candles.

It was rather pleasant to finally have a moment to share with no one but herself for the first time in quite a few days. She glanced around the quaint deli at the books that lined all of the walls. Turning around in the booth she was seated comfortably in, her eyes fell on a battered and aged copy of Jane Eyre, which she delved into without hesitation.

After every paragraph or so, she'd take a bite of the massive roast beef sandwich she'd been served, then would continue to read. About ten pages or so in, she felt that the soup that had accompanied the sandwich had reached a consumable temperature and she took a heaping spoonful of perfectly seasoned chicken and broth into her mouth. 'Damn, that's good', she thought to herself, taking another spoonful. She held the spoon in her mouth for a moment, almost as if she were trying to remove the entirety of the flavor that remained on it.

Fully engrossed in the novel, she hadn't realized that she'd been sitting there for nearly a half hour already. Krista flipped the book over to mark her spot, and jumped when she noticed that she had company sitting across from her. "Shit, Dieter," she muttered, her heart gradually returning to its resting rhythm once she calmed down from her sudden scare. "How do you keep running into me?" she asked in German, still trying to maintain her façade of Landa's Austrian girlfriend.

He simply shrugged and smiled to her. For being as dangerous and arrogant as he was, he was kind to her which could only mean one of two things. Scenario A: His goal was to butter her up and get on her good side before killing her swiftly and easily, or scenario B: he was genuinely a nice, lovable person beneath his Gestapo Major rank. "I can't tell you that."

She laughed softly, and took another spoonful of her soup.

"How is it?" he asked curiously as he watched her eat, which was an awkward experience.

"It's good. But I liked the smoked sausage you made better. How'd you learn to cook so well, by the way?" She asked him, finally deciding to close the book that sat overturned on the table, because she had come to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be reading any more of it.

"My mother taught me when I was young, and I just picked it up very quickly." He answered. He gestured to a passing waiter and ordered simply a glass of ice water, which confirmed Krista's hunch that her solitary moment had drawn to a close. At least she was able to enjoy it while it lasted.

Close to an hour and a half had past, and Krista still found herself sitting opposite the young major, sincerely enjoying his company, just as she had before. It was a nice change of pace to be able to have a friendly conversation with a man that didn't involve blatant flirting and talk about sexual prospects.

The owner of the deli came by the booth a short while later to tell the pair that they were about to close, and that they needed to vacate the premises. If she were being honest, she enjoyed the company of Hans, but she was finding that Dieter, who was likely much closer to her own age, was more relatable.

They exited the deli, and began a slow walk to nowhere in particular. Cautiously, she glanced around them every so often, just on the off chance there would happen to be a German officer near them that would report back to Landa that she'd been seen with Dieter. Hans had clearly expressed his distaste for the way Dieter seemed to act around her because he felt that he would try to make a move on his mistress, and after spending time with him, she was beginning to think that he had a reason for concern. Although not outwardly saying that he had an interest in her, he seemed to be nonchalantly insinuating it.

"Are you okay? You seem nervous." He pointed out, taking note of her somewhat erratic behavior.

"I'm fine. I just don't want the fact that I'm with you right now to get back to Landa. He's not your biggest fan because of me." She told him honestly, nervously chewing at the inside of her lip. Hans would probably fly off the handle if he found out, even though Krista was merely his mistress. In her eyes, she was still free to do what she pleased, and spend time with whoever she pleased, and Hans the same. They weren't tethered to each other in a relationship, so there was no call to act as such.

"Why are you worried about that?" he asked curiously as he pulled out a metal tin with cigarettes, promptly placing one between his lips and lighting it up.

She watched him as he did it then formulated a response. "I don't know, I just want him to be upset and take it out on either of us."

He shook his head, taking a long drag from his lit cigarette. "I'm not worried about him."

Landa was his superior, He should probably be worried about potential consequences, but who was she to judge? "No?" she asked, her tone slightly amused.

He shook his head again. "The worst he'll do is tell me to stay away from you again. He's not as intimidating as most people think he is." The approached the same bench that she and Landa hat sat on the night he made his initial advances, and she felt a strange sort of confliction inside of her. It was odd that she felt as if she had to choose between two men that both had an interest in her. "Would you like to sit?" He asked her, gesturing toward the bench.

She swallowed and nodded. "Sure." Once they were both seated, she plucked his cigarette from between his lips, and placed it between her own. Krista took a long drag from it before handing it back to him. He laughed at her action, his eyes trained on her every move.

The smoke from his cigarette drifted toward her with his next drag as a gentle breeze carried it. "I'd like to get to know you better," he stated point blank, turning to face her.

She had an inkling that that was coming, yet she had not prepared for it. "Before you say that, I need to tell you something." She began to nervously pick at her nail polish like she always did when she was about to say something risky, but this time, it had to possibility to get her killed. Her stomach rose up into her throat, and her heart pounded almost painfully against her ribcage. "I'm… Not Austrian. Well, I'm not from Austria." She said in English as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, waiting for the cold barrel of a pistol to be pressed into her temple.

"I know," he replied also in English, his gaze unwavering.

Shocked, she stared at him, her mouth agape for what felt like an eternity. How did he know? Was she really that bad at speaking German? Finally, her brain unscrambled, and she could speak. "What do you mean you know?"

"Your accent is atrocious," he said, laughing softly. Krista swatted at his shoulder which only made him laugh more.

"Hey, I'm from Chicago, okay? I tried my best," she admitted, rolling her eyes. She was actually quite thankful that she could speak English at this point, because she found out quickly that constantly speaking German was getting exhausting.

"Does Landa know you're American?"

She sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Yeah."

"And?"

"I don't know. It didn't seem to be a problem. I mean, I'm not dead yet," she said with a slight laugh. "But I gotta ask. Why didn't you kill me when you figured it out?" After the words left her lips, she almost wished she hadn't asked, because she didn't know that she really wanted to hear the answer.

Dieter leaned back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. "Landa told me not to."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear, but now it couldn't be unheard. She let it sink in for a second. "Would you have if he hadn't told you not to?"

He shook his head and looked over to her again. "If I'm being honest, no. You're different from the other American girls I've met. Not to mention, I'm very much attracted to you."

She felt flattered to say the least, and a pink hue rose to her cheeks. "Don't let Landa hear you say that."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you with him?" he asked, abruptly altering the subject.

She was slightly taken aback, and was unsure of exactly how to reply. "I don't know," was the best thing she could come up with without much thought.

"What do you mean you don't know? Is it the money?" He asked, raising himself back up to a seated position.

"No," she said. "Not all women are after money."

"I suppose you're right. So if it's not money, it must be the sex." He almost sounded disgusted as if he were envious toward Hans.

He wasn't fully wrong, that was part of it. The sex was great if she were being fully truthful, the best she'd ever had in fact. "I mean, kind of. I enjoy sex… And I don't think that makes me a slut."

"I don't think it does either," he agreed, catching her eyes with his and sharing an intense gaze for quite some time.

She poked him in the shoulder in an attempt to emphasize her words. "But don't get any ideas."

He threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I won't. But when I said to be careful with Landa, I meant it."

"Would you care to elaborate?" she asked. He mentioned that she should exercise caution with him, but never offered any further explanation, which was slightly troubling.

He paused for a moment before he began to speak, as if he were aligning his thoughts in his head. "I've been working alongside him for close to three years now, and I've seen how he is with his women. Everything will start great. He'll take them to dinner, buy them jewelry and clothes and everything women like."

"Like cars and guns?" she interjected with an amused grin.

"Do women like cars and guns?" he asked, slightly confused.

Krista shrugged. "Well, I do."

"I knew there was something strange about you," he teased before continuing. "He'll woo them with extravagant meals and lavish gifts, then use them for a while until he tires of them. He'll get rid of them and move onto the next. And what surprised me about you is that he usually goes for the floozy types. And I can clearly tell that you are the polar opposite of that. You're more intelligent than his usual picks."

Krista sat for a moment, trying to let her brain catch up and absorb everything he had just told her. Was that really going to be her fate? He'd use her until he was bored with her and move onto the next girl that crosses his path? Dieter obviously knew Landa's ways better than she did, so she had absolutely no reason to not believe him, but for some reason, she still felt a tiny sliver of denial. After all, Landa had told her she was different from the rest. But did he really just mean that she was different because she wasn't some random floozy off the street? Jesus, what a fuckboy.

Knowing what she knew now, her view of Landa had certainly shifted, but she couldn't act like she knew what his motives were while she was in his company. "You're too pretty to be with him anyway." He offered her a genuine smile, and she reciprocated it.

Now that she had been up close and personal with Dieter, she realized that he was more adorable than hot, and he had this sort of boyish charm to him that she found quite likeable. "I could treat you better than he can."

Krista laughed, shaking her head. "You're not going to stop until you get the girl, are you?"

"No I'm not," he told her honestly.

"You don't even know me though. What if I'm psychotic or something?"

"Isn't that the point of getting to know someone?" He countered, tilting his head to the side slightly.

He was right. That was kind of the point of saying you'd like to get to know someone. "You're right. And I'm not psycho, by the way."

He snorted and shifted his seated position slightly to face her better. He lifted a hand to gently pull down the neckline of the blouse she was wearing and stopped once the still darkening bruise on her neck was exposed. She could feel his nimble fingertips brush over her collar bone, and it sent chills down her spine. She looked down out of habit, although she knew full and well that she couldn't see it. "I'm jealous," he said quietly, almost too quietly for her to hear as if he didn't really intend to vocalize what he was thinking.

"Why?" she asked, her voice colored by an amused tone.

"Because I didn't do this to you." He stared at it for a moment longer before removing his fingers and adjusting her blouse back to its previous placement. "But one day, you'll come to your senses, and I'll get my chance."

She could feel a slight pang of guilt inside, and it was likely due to the fact that Dieter appeared to have a small crush on her, for lack of a better term. A mark on her skin from another man wasn't something she felt that she should be feeling guilty for. He was making such an honest and full hearted attempt to sway her away from Landa's gentlemanly charm, and she admired that. He was persistent, that was for sure. She also wondered if he was truly serious about wanting her as bad as he was letting on.

Dieter looked at his watch and sighed. "It's getting late. I should probably get you home. Unless… you'd like to join me instead?" he asked hopefully.

She followed suit after he stood up, and brushed off imaginary dirt from the skirt she was wearing after straightening it out. "As much as I'd like to, I can't." She was partly sad because she was enjoying his company so much, but if she chose to stay the night with Dieter, Landa would undoubtedly find out and lose his shit.

Taking a chance, he took a step closer to her and cradled the back of her head with his hand and pressed his warm lips to hers. Regardless of how soft his lips felt against hers and how sweet they tasted, she pulled away and took a step back, placing a small amount of space between them. "Dieter, I can't do this." She said, her lips still tingling from the contact. She avoided his eyes and looked down.

"I promise you that Landa will never know." He tipped her chin up so that their eyes could meet.

Quickly, she found herself lost in beautiful icy blue, and she didn't want to look away. She wanted to believe him when he said that Hans would never know, but with his position so high in the SS, he could found out anything he wanted to about anything he wanted to. "I want to believe you. I really do."

He dropped his hand down to his side. "Do you love him?"

His words cut into her in a way they most definitely shouldn't have. She didn't love Hans, and she didn't think she ever would. She liked him, sure. But love? She'd learned her lesson about love and relationships years ago, and she wasn't about to revisit that painful heartbreak. "No."

Dieter nodded, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. She hated to see him feel rejected because that wasn't her intention, but it was what it was. "Well, I look forward to seeing you very soon. Think about me," he told her with a mischievous wink.

Without another word, he turned away from her, and began down the street.

Nervously, she began to make her way back to her hotel room and she suddenly wished that she had snagged a cigarette from Dieter before they had parted ways. Maybe it would have calmed her restless mind down. It seemed to her that every day she drifted further away from her goal to find her cousin, and with the precarious place she'd found herself all but trapped in, she wanted nothing more than to throw in the towel and go home and carry on life as usual. She was actually beginning to miss the classic and muscle restoration shop she owned and worked at, and she was craving the feel of a perfectly sculpted quarter panel beneath her touch.

She had the mindset that finding Jonas would be an in and out of Paris ordeal, but now she realized just how mistaken she had been. Was she in over her head yet, though? Not quite, but she was teetering dangerously close to that point. However, if no more curveballs were thrown directly at her, she'd be able to pull through without a hitch. She now had to worry about being caught in between a colonel and a major, and the complexity of that hurt her brain.

Out of nowhere, Dieter Hellstrom had expressed his interest in her, after informing her of what her fate with Hans would likely be. She'd be used and dumped like a bottle of Mountain Dew that had been finished. She had agreed to be his mistress so she brought it upon herself, and she didn't really expect a different outcome. Hearing it from someone else somehow unsettled her.

For now though, she decided that the best course of action was to just ride it out and let whatever happen just… happen. Her life was about to become a shitshow, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.