April 9th, 2019; Tuesday (2:36 PM)

The sun shone brightly in Wisconsin, which caused Krista to force her eyes to a squint while she adjusted from being shrouded in near darkness. She rubbed her eyes, forgetting she had makeup on, and shook her head to herself. Kicking off her heels, she began to trudge her way through her backyard and to the rear of her house. "Sydney?" she called into the house after sliding open the heavy glass door that led to the kitchen.

While she wanted nothing more than to sit on the couch and die a few thousand times while playing Dark Souls, but she had been badgered about going in to the shop the last two days by her business partner, and best friend since middle school, Alex Avery. She had been told that a man had come in to the shop with a stock 1996 Jeep Wrangler looking to get it built into a Rubicon Trail worthy offroading rig. That wasn't typically the thing Krista would do at her shop since she technically specialized in classic car restoration, but she was never one to turn down an opportunity to work on a Jeep as long as she lived. With that being said, she really had no choice but to make an appearance. If she were being honest, since she'd done the work to her Jeep, she was dying to build up another, even if it wasn't hers.

"Oh hey," Sydney said as she bounded down the stairs, wrapped in a terry cloth robe with her hair piled atop her head in a plush towel. "You're wet. Is it raining?" she asked, looking out the window and noticing nothing but blinding sunlight.

"In Paris it is," she sighed, reaching around to the back of her neck to unclasp the heavy mass of diamonds that hung around it.

Sydney's eyes widened so far that they were bound to pop out of her head when she caught sight of the necklace. "Holy... shit, dude," she said, her jaw falling wide open.

"What? This?" she asked, holding the necklace up in one hand.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, holding her hands out so that she could cradle it safely. "Where did you get it?" she asked, carefully examining each diamond.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I can't believe that you even really need to ask that."

Sydney let out a laugh before handing the necklace back to her sister, where it was then placed on the kitchen counter. "Seriously, can I steal Hans from you?" she asked jokingly. "I'd kill to be spoiled like you," she added.

Krista sighed again, and slouched down onto one of the bar stools that surrounded her counter. "Take him," she breathed, closing her eyes and massaging her temples.

Sydney's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she moved to stand on the opposite side of the countertop. "Why? What happened? Did he hurt you?"

She remained quiet for a short moment before allowing herself to speak. She really had it made in the shade with Hans; Nice dinners, expensive gifts, a free hotel room, mind blowing sex... The list could go on forever. But with the alarming number of times that the image of Dieter Hellstrom crept into her mind, she began to think that she had made a grave mistake somewhere along the line. "No, nothing like that. I just... I don't know what I'm getting myself into with him. Dieter told me-"

She was cut off. "Wait, wait, wait. Who's Dieter?" She asked curiously.

"A Gestapo major. He told me I need to be careful with Landa, because he can be dangerous."

Sydney shrugged before crossing the kitchen to grab a beer from Krista's fridge. "Well, I mean, he's an SS colonel. Sooo... Of course he's dangerous."

She shook her head dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know that. But he also keeps telling me shit like... Hans doesn't deserve me, and that I could do better... And then he kissed me. Out of nowhere."

Sydney was beginning to grow more and more envious with every word that fell from her sister's lips. "So you're telling me that you have two hot German guys going after you? That's not fucking fair!" Hans was Austrian not German, but to Sydney, it didn't make much difference. She twisted the bottle cap from the beer, and tossed it into the trash. Oh how Krista was dying for an American beer. But unfortunately, she was going to have to wait until she was through with working. The cars in her shop wouldn't work on themselves.

"Then I probably shouldn't add the fact that his eyes are gorgeous, and he's adorable in a sexy sort of way... And I think I kind of like him." She kind of did have a sort of childish, elementary school crush on him. She had been hoping over the last week, those feelings would subside and fade away to nothingness, but they had done quite the opposite; they had intensified. She couldn't stop thinking about him, and she was dying to spend more minute with him, and have a lengthy conversation about nothing in particular.

"Girl, I fucking hate you," Sydney teased, raising the bottle to her lips and taking a long swig.

"I hate me too," she said, finally standing up. "I have to go into the shop for a little while, but I shouldn't be too long." She headed toward the stairs so she could put on a set of grimy work clothes.

"That's cool. I'm going to head home after I finish my beer. I need to get my laundry done. Text me when you're back in Paris!" she called up the stairs.

"I will," Krista answered before making her way to the end of the hall to the master bedroom.

She inhaled deeply when she pulled open the door, immediately greeted with the pleasing scent of roses. She constantly sprayed her bedding with Stella by Stella McCartney, and she was glad to see that the oils from the perfume had incredible lingering power. She crossed to her closet, and pulled open a drawer in the small dresser that was situated inside. She pulled out a ratty old pair of Hollister jeans, then tugged a Jeep Invasion tee shirt from a hanger that had a permanent oil stain on it. Quickly, she slipped out of her form fitting dress and pulled on her clean clothes. After grabbing a clean pair of mismatched socks, she descended back down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Hey, did anything come from ModCloth for me? I ordered some more clothes because I keep wearing the same two skirts over and over."

Sydney nodded, swallowing the gulp of beer that she had held in her mouth. "Yeah, it's in the dining room. I think your Jeep Jamboree registration confirmation came too."

"Shit," she muttered. "I forgot I registered for that."

"Are you still going to go?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to go. I just won't be able to stay for the whole event. Hans will think it's weird if I don't show up anywhere in Paris for a few days. He'll probably start a city wide manhunt for me."

"That's annoying," Sydney told her, taking another sip from her bottle, now leaving it nearly empty.

"Well, I'm off to the shop. I'll let you know when I'm back in Paris. Love you!"

"Love you too! Be careful! And tell your boys I said I'm coming for them," she joked loudly.

"I'm not doing that," she replied, plucking the keys to her Ram 2500 from the hook beside the door that led to the garage.

She was relieved to see that her shop was not in disarray like she had expected, and in a back corner sat The '96 Wrangler, which was next to her Superbird project, which was next to a new addition. A 1939 Mercedes Benz Type 770. It was just too weird. She had been around these cars for weeks now, and it seemed all too strange that one would make its way to her shop to be restored.

Krista spent a measly four hours in the shop before heading back home. Those four hours consisted of the remaining body work on a 1977 Corvette before rolling it into the paint booth and beginning the long process of painting. With three layers of primer applied, she would allow the car to sit for at least twenty four hours for the primer to fully cure before moving onto the final sanding and prep work before applying paint.

Before leaving, she made a brief stop at the Mercedes in the back of the shop, mentally cataloguing the parts it would need to be returned to its former glory. It was clear that the car needed an immense amount of work, and she was willing to bet that it wasn't even running. She sighed and turned away, knowing full and well that the car had a long road to recovery.

Now back at her house, she sat down with a small Jack and Coke, and began to sift through the massive package she had received from ModCloth. There was a vast array of dresses and other vintage style clothing inside the package, and she made quick work to pluck all of the tags off and shove them into a bag to be transported to Paris with her. Rolling her eyes, she tossed her necklace into the same bag, and set off for the seemingly ancient oak tree situated at the edge of her property. She opened up a World War II era photograph of the street in Paris that the Saint James was on, and stuffed it into her purse. She took a deep breath and walked right into the tree, in the same fashion as Hogwarts students.

April 10th, 1943; Saturday (3:09 AM)

On the other side, she found herself once again in the train station, and had a sudden realization that she had forgotten to change her clothes. Too exhausted to even make an attempt to put era appropriate clothing on, she came to the conclusion she'd just have to quickly and stealthily travel to her room through the back of the hotel and be extra careful since it was well past curfew now.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she made it to her door, and quietly opened it before stepping inside and she wanted nothing more but to beeline for the bed and sleep, but a shower was necessary. She needed to wash of the smell of used motor oil and carburetor cleaner from her clothe, and the Bondo dust from her skin and hair. When she was done, she could go to sleep and sleep in as late as she wanted.

April 10th, 1943; Saturday (1:30 PM)

When it finally came time for Krista to climb out of bed and do something with her life, she readied herself for the day. She applied a fresh face of makeup including her trusty Unicorn Blood lipstick, and grabbed her leather messenger bag before hitting the streets.

Her goal for the day was to find a nice place to relax and read a book or sketch or write for a few hours. Ideally, somewhere quiet along the river would be great.

Armed with an old sketchbook and a vast array of drawing pencils, she wandered through the streets, glad that there was finally a bit of sun to break up the somewhat depressing nature of the intermittent rain and clouds that seemed to eternally hover over the city.

As soon as she began to walk, she quickly realized that it was going to be a long walk to the river. Not to mention, she found herself starving, but she had already used the last of her money for dinner the previous night. Needless to say, she was unable to stop for lunch, and for absolutely no good reason at all, it pissed her off.

She made an ugly face to herself when she walked past the deli that she had eaten at a short while prior, because it just smelled so damn good. She quickly walked past it, hoping she would no longer be able to smell the delicious smells wafting from inside, and she wouldn't have to think about how angry her stomach sounded.

With the water of the Seine finally in sight, she made a split second decision to pop into a decently large floral shop first. Immediately, she was greeted with the sight of hundreds of flowers of all different colors and sizes. The varying scents of the flowers that were lined nearly to the ceiling of the shop were a delightful treat to her senses. Krista closed her eyes and inhaled deeply when she stumbled upon a section of roses. She reached out to touch the delicate flowers, the petals feeling as if they were silk beneath her fingertips. "Miss? Is there anything I can help you with?" And older man with glasses, who she assumed was the store owner, asked her in polite French.

She shook her head and replied, "No thank you sir, I'm only looking right now."

He offered her a nod and a smile, and disappeared back into the sea of flowers he had seemingly rose out of.

For a moment, she simply stood there, admiring the beauty of the roses, but sighed when she, again, realized she hadn't any money to buy anything. However, compared to the fresh French lavender bundles that were beside them, the roses paled in comparison. With a single long sniff, she could feel herself growing calmer, and her troubles seemed to drift away for a moment, and it almost made her forget about her snarling stomach that wanted to be fed. Lavender grown in the US just didn't smell as nice. Simple as that. Case closed.

She glanced out the storefront window, and did a double take when she caught a glimpse of a black Gestapo uniform. When she finally made her exit from the store, the man was gone, and she continued on her way to find a relaxing spot to chill.

A nice patch of grass shaded by a large tree near the water caught her eye fairly quickly, and she sat down and made herself comfortable. Although she had a certain distaste for the city, she found it beautiful. She found it hard to believe that while it was occupied by the Nazis, yet it still held its beauty. Yes, it was strange to see German officers walking around in their uniforms, but she found it... cool to be in such an important time of history. It was almost like she was living in her US History book from her Junior year in high school. It was a feeling that she couldn't quite describe.

Wasting no more time, she pulled her leather messenger bag from her shoulder and sat it in to soft grass beside her. She leaned back against the tall tree, and looked around her for some nice subject to draw. Her sketchbook was nearly full, and she was making it a personal goal to actually finish one for once. Only ten pages remained, so accomplishing her goal was within her grasp. Directly in front of her was a seemingly happily in love French couple sitting with their backs to her, and she picked out a drawing pencil with a hard lead to begin roughly sketching the outlines and basic features of her subject matter. Following that, she moved to a few softer leads to begin to build up the peaceful background and add more details to the couple.

She took a break after about a half hour, and looked down at what she had drawn. The woman sat beside the man, resting her head on his shoulder. She found herself smiling to herself, and yearning for that sort of love. After the train wreck of her last relationship, she swore to herself she'd never let herself fall in love again. She decided that it simply wasn't worth the heartbreak she felt when trying to salvage anything she could from it and receiving nothing in return. In the end, her six month long effort to save her relationship was pointless. She and her boyfriend had gone their separate ways, and she never looked back. It was then that she realized that she didn't need a man in her life. 'Hustle like a man so you don't have to rely on one', she'd always say. But now that she found herself in the city of love, she couldn't help but begin to shy away from her previous convictions.

"What are you drawing?" A voice from beside her asked.

She looked back down at her half-finished drawing, not realizing that she recognized the voice. "Oh, nothing really," she replied, finally turning to the side to see where the voice had come from. He was holding a neatly wrapped object in one hand, and a red rose in the other. He looked like he should be heading out on a date. She rolled her eyes slightly at what she saw, but her gesture was met with a bright, welcoming smile. Was it actually him that she saw outside the florist? "Are you stalking me?" She asked him, a soft chuckle in her words.

"No, I just keep running into you somehow." He handed the long stem rose to her, and smiled sweetly. "For the beautiful lady."

She eyed it for a long while as she brushed her fingers over the silken petals. "Thank you," she finally said, blushing. She'd never had a man present her with flowers before, and she had a second where she didn't really know what to think.

Dieter Hellstrom's uncanny ability for finding her was beginning to get a touch unnerving, and she was unable to understand how he kept doing it. 'Shouldn't he be working?' she thought to herself, but she realized that the SS likely didn't have a typical nine to five schedule. They probably worked weird hours and weird shifts. "May I see?" he asked her, reaching for the open sketchbook. She handed it up to him, and he closely examined it, smiling softly when his eyes fell on the happy couple in the center of the drawing. "This is beautiful," he told her before handing it back and taking a seat beside her. "You're very talented."

"Thank you," she managed, catching his gorgeous blue eyes once he was beside her. Snapping back into reality, she looked back down at the drawing one last time before closing the book. "So what brings you here, Sturmbannführer?" she asked, watching a pair of birds happily fly through the air over the river's rippling water.

"You," he told her seriously, but with a sneaky grin. "I also got this for you."

Dieter handed Krista the small box shaped package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with twine. She looked up to him before taking the package into her left hand. "What's this?" she asked, quirking a brow. She was struggling to determine why she was so special that she had two gorgeous men buying her gifts. It made her feel weird, but at the same time, she sort of enjoyed being pampered. Maybe her sister was right to envious toward her.

"Open it," he urged, his eyes never leaving her as she did so, a hopeful smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward.

Carefully, she untied the tidy bow in the center of the package and pulled the paper off of it. When it was open, she stared at the cover of what she now knew was a book. "You didn't have to do this," she said with a nervous laugh. She brushed her fingertips over the cover. Jane Eyre.

"I know, but I'm sure Landa has been buying you all kinds of things, and I want you to know that I care for you, too. Not to mention, I felt guilty for interrupting you while you were reading it that one night." Krista had thought about the possibility that Dieter kept seeking her out at random times was due to the fact that he secretly had some sort of crush on her, but hearing him say something along the lines of that seemed so surreal.

She felt the need then to defend Hans and say that the gift giving was really nothing more than a kind gesture, but Dieter wasn't stupid. He knew better.

"I saw you last night at dinner with him and Kaltenbrunner. You looked incredible. And that necklace... Wow. Landa clearly thinks you're special to gift you diamonds like that." Krista looked down to avoid his eyes, and bit her lip. She always felt so bad when Dieter would see her and Hans together, because she knew that it upset him. "He's lucky," he added, lowering his voice and looking down as well.

"But you don't even really know me. How do you know he's lucky?" she finally looked up to him.

He laughed quietly, meeting her eyes finally. "I know enough about you to come to that conclusion."

Krista wasn't typically one to find herself speechless, but this time, she really didn't know what to say. When she lost all motivation to form an intelligent response, the simply sat there and remained quiet and allowed the sounds from around the river wash over them.

He moved closer to her, so close that she could feel the material of his tunic brushing her bare arm. Dieter leaned into her ear and whispered, "That could be us someday," he said before gently brushing his lips over the shell of her ear and lingering there for a moment. Clearly, he was referring to the couple that she had begun to sketch.

Dieter began to stand up to leave, but Krista grabbed his hand before he could do so. "Dieter, wait..." she said, her voice cracking. "Do you want to sit with me? Just for a little while?" she asked in a soft tone.

"Of course," he answered, returning to his spot in the lush grass beside her.

Without even thinking, she let her head fall to his shoulder, and she closed her eyes. He smelled of subtle lavender and some sort of musky cologne, and she hadn't realized until then how much she liked it; how much she was beginning to like him in general. But Hans could never know that. They'd both end up in deep shit with a shit rope being the only method to escape.

He smiled, slipping his arm between her back and the tree, and allowed his hand to rest at her waist. The modest gesture had him thinking that maybe he'd get the girl after all. His intentions were clear; he wanted to both treat her the way she deserved to be treated, and protect her, but not to the point of possession. It was seeming like the stars were beginning to align in his favor, and he couldn't have been more proud of the fact that a potentially romantic situation was actually going his way for once.

Krista reached her right arm across her body, and let her hand fall atop his before mindlessly toying with his fingers in an affectionate manner, making Dieter's smile widen a little more. "Do you really think that could be us someday?" she questioned, now feeling at an ideal level of relaxation. At the moment this was right where she wanted to be. She felt safe with Dieter, but in a different way that she felt safe with Hans. It was difficult for her to determine which route she preferred, but at this moment, she didn't care, and she had no desire to entertain the thought. She just wanted to sit with Dieter and enjoy the pleasant afternoon. It just felt... so right.

He dropped a kiss into her hair, both of them peering ahead at the happy couple before them. "Would you like that?"

She let a soft laugh fall from her dark red lips. This was beginning to feel like the start of something that she didn't fully know she wanted, but she was fully prepared to embrace it. She finally answered after she felt him slip his fingers into the spaces between her own. "I think I would."

AUTHOR NOTES: Quick note here, through my brief research, it didn't appear that there were any parks along the Seine during the 40s, unless I wasn't looking in the right places. With that being said, I made one up. Please don't roast me for that. I mean, if you want to, I guess that's all good, too.

I also want to add that when I started toying with the idea of writing this while I was at work, Major Hellstrom was just going to be a... hindrance... let's say. HOWEVER. I fell in love with August Diehl all over again when I watched A Hidden Life, and I decided that I'm going to make Dieter into a lover, and I'm not even sorry about that. Is it out of character according to Inglourious Basterds? Without a doubt. But I feel like under the uniform and the cocky attitude, there's a nice guy that's screaming to get out.

Lastly, I would like to thank all of you that have read this, and are continuing to read it. I haven't written anything for years, and this story was what it took to make me realize how much I enjoy writing. I'm not the best author out there, but I still want to thank everyone that reads and supports my writing. It makes me feel like maybe I don't suck so bad after all.