AUTHOR NOTES:

If you are reading this chapter, and find yourself in a state of confusion, I understand, and I apologize. I've decided that that chapter wasn't placed well, and it felt too rushed. With that being said, 'Disorderly Conduct' (the previous last uploaded chapter) will be rewritten and moved to a place in the story later on where it will make more sense. So for the time being, let's just act like that chapter never existed.

I understand that in rewriting the first two chapters entirely and changing the whole direction of the story I may have confused some readers. And for that, I also apologize. My intention was not to do that, but to change the storyline enough that I would be able to create an entertaining piece of FanFiction that would keep the reader wondering what the fuck could possibly happen next.

I have a lot of twists and turns planned, as well as the entire ending. I won't say much, but what I will say is that Krista's actions will have their consequences.

Now without further ado, I finally present to you a new chapter titled 'Siren'.

As always, thank you for reading, and enjoy!

April 12th, 1943; Monday

Living in a sick ass hotel room that you don't have to pay for? Dope.

Being able to scroll through Reddit while smoking Strawberry Cough in 1940s Paris? That's what dreams are made of.

Having no time period job and no money to buy shit? Fucked.

Had Krista enjoyed her bout of recklessly spending her time doing absolutely nothing? Of course! Who the hell wouldn't? It was time for her to actually get off her ass and look for a local occupation that would allow her to not rely on buying antique coins and banknotes on eBay. She had considered this before, but she felt like she was living the high life until all her money was gone. Since she was still working at her garage and still side gigging on the weekends, she had put off finding a job. That was just too much stress on her already exhausted body that she had no desire to put herself through. When she decided that living off of Landa's generosity would only last so long, she bit the bullet and set off in search of a bar tending job.

She had some experience in the field, but most likely not enough experience to land her a paying job. Even though she had little hope since she was a woman, but she was determined to at least give it an honest effort.

By four in the afternoon, Krista's feet were screaming at her, and she found herself wondering how exactly Carrie Bradshaw could walk around Manhattan all day in Manolos. Out of the seven bars she had stopped into, seven had turned her away. Feeling defeated, she was prepared to give up and talk to Landa about finding her an HQ job.

She plopped herself down on the curb and lit up her last cigarette from the smashed pack in her purse, and stretched her legs out into the street. The sky was so beautiful again today, and it reminded her of how much she adored springtime.

As she took a long drag, a weeping young woman approached her, her eyes red like she had just walked out of a hotbox. In very choppy French, the woman spoke. "Miss… Could… Could I trouble you for a cigarette?" She sniffled before wiping her eyes.

Krista rolled her deep red lips together and looked down at what was left of her Marlboro menthol. "You can finish this." Krista stood up and offered the woman a smile before letting her eyes drop down the woman's knees. They were covered in bruises; bruises that Krista remembered from her first week dancing. "I don't mean to be rude, but where do you dance? I'm looking for a job." It was bold of her to make such an assumption, but at this point in the day, she wouldn't have cared if this woman would have slapped her and told her to fuck off.

She sniffled again, and took a shaky drag. "I didn't make it," she managed. "The woman with the red hair told me that I had to take my top off when I was on stage."

Krista analyzed the young woman's mascara streaked cheeks, and couldn't help but let her lips curl upward just slightly. Surely it couldn't really be a strip club. That would just be too good to be true. "If you don't mind me asking," Krista began, turning to face the woman better. "Where is this club?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Drawing the cigarette to her lips, she pointing down the street they were standing on. "At the end of this road, go left. It's hard to miss… It's Red's Showgirls."

Krista offered the young woman a smile, and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Thank you."

In her head, she did the math on how long it would take her to go from where she was to the train station, go back home and gather her dance bag, then get to the club. She simply wouldn't have the time to get herself readied to audition and make it to the club to audition by curfew. So it would have to wait.

Even though she wouldn't be able to audition right then and there, she still went home and gathered up some simple pieces and accessories for this audition for this supposed strip club. Now back in her hotel room, she began to unpack the bag that had been hurriedly thrown together so that it could be organized properly.

She looked over the black lace and spandex that littered her bed and reached for the set that she bought the last shift she worked in Chicago. She sauntered her way to a mirror and stripped down before sliding the asset enhancing lace outfit on. Checking herself at every angle, she adjusted the fabric until it clung to her body perfectly. She secured her Flamingo height black patent leather booties to her feet and slowly walked back to the mirror and smiled. She was confident. She had this.

Suddenly, she was taken back to her first week of dancing. Fresh out of the military with no clue what to do next. She was renting a small one bedroom apartment in Milwaukee, and danced at two different clubs simultaneously.

Since she missed out on her 'crazy early twenties' phase, she felt that as long as none of her family or friends knew that she was shaking her ass for money, she could justify the lifestyle. Her first week was an absolute roller coaster. She learned the strats quickly, and found that this was the most fun she had had in a long time. Her natural confidence made the work very easy for her, and her physical shape made pole work just as easy.

As Krista gazed into the reflection of herself, and something a veteran dancer told her crept its way into her mind. Cassidy was her stage name, and her real name Krista never knew. Cassidy's last night was Krista's first. After Cassidy's final stage set, as she gathered all of her money and stuffed it into buckets, she looked at Krista and said with a dark smile, "ain't no love for a woman selling lust," before making her way through the crowd that was cheering for her and throwing money on her. That stuck with her, and she made it a rule to live by.

Yanked back to reality when she heard a faint knock at her door, she rushed to the bed to shut off the music she had softly playing. "One moment, please," she called out in French. She didn't even bother to put a robe on, because she couldn't care less who saw her dressed as she was. She pulled the door open and was met with the eyes of Hans Landa. She sunk her teeth into the inside of her bottom lip and inwardly muttered "fuck."

He raised his eyebrows and was not shy about the manner in which he scanned over her form. "What is the occasion?" he asked, not a note of emotion in his face.

She simply shrugged, and leaned provocatively against the door frame. "Just wanted to feel sexy," she purred.

"May I come in?" he asked, her motioning to the inside of her room.

"Yes, sir." She stepped back, allowing him inside. At that moment, she had never been more thankful that she had placed her phone inside her bag, because he went straight to the bed and plopped down. "What brings you here at this time of night?"

He watched her closely as she walked one foot expertly in front of the other, and found himself mesmerized by the flow of her hips as she moved. "You, of course."

Seductively, she bit her lip once she was standing before him and placed her hands gently on his knees. "Did you miss me?" She asked him as she spread his legs apart and moved to stand between them. With eight inch heels on, she was much taller than he was, his face was directly at neck level. She placed a finger beneath his chin and tilted his face upward to meet her eyes.

"Yes," he said, his hands moving to rest on her hips.

With the gentle weight of his hands resting on her body, she adopted a slow, tantalizing pace of moving her hips in the absolute most seductive way possible. "That's what I like to hear," she breathed, leaning down to press her lips teasingly to his, knowing he'd be desperate for more.

"I came by earlier, and you weren't here. Where have you been all day?" he asked, his hands falling from her frame.

She dropped her hand to her side, and stepped back. "Looking for a job." Truth was, she now had a lead on a job, and she found herself toying with the prospect of telling Hans, but she wasn't sure that she was fully prepared to rip off the Band Aid yet.

"Whatever would you need to work for? Am I not taking care of you well enough?"

He sounded almost hurt, but she was under the impression that they were at an understanding that she didn't want to rely on him. "I'm a very independent person. I don't want someone to support me, because I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own."

He stood from the bed and absentmindedly looked out the moonlight glimmering through the window on the unlit side of the room. "And where, pray tell, were you hoping to find this… job you are looking for?" He asked her, in a rather snarky tone.

"For your information, colonel, I'm auditioning at Red's tomorrow."

His eyes moved to her at her words, and he crossed the room to stand before her. All of a sudden, his tone shifted, which was not the reaction she was expecting, but she welcomed it. "Well. I must admit. I wouldn't have expected you to be that type of woman."

She shrugged. "You know what kind of woman I am. I'm confident in who I am. And you have to be honest with yourself, Hans. Being with a showgirl has its perks." She slowly began to circle around him, her movements graceful in her sky high platforms. "You're the only one allowed to touch me when all the other men can only dream about it." She stopped behind him, and leaned forward to press her chest into his back to place her lips just at the shell of his ear. "You're the only one that gets to lie with me at night and fuck me as you please…" Her voice was raspy and it made Hans burn with a sudden desire for her. She was no stranger to the act of finessing. She knew how to get what she wanted with carefully strung together sentences that may carry hidden meanings. She nipped at his earlobe before moving down to press a soft kiss to his neck. "Does that turn you on, colonel?" She asked him in German, as her arms curled around him, her hands flat against his front.

"You have a way with words," he answered, his eyes falling closed at her gentle yet deliberate touch. Her hand drifted lower and lower down the front of his body until stopping at his belt. At the prospect of her releasing him from his pants and taking him into her mouth, he found it painfully difficult to keep himself composed. "Dance for me," he finally managed, reluctantly pulling away from her touch and making his way to a chair that sat in the corner of the room nearest the balcony.

The absence of music would not give Hans the full effect of her capabilities, but she would just have to do her best. She began by slowly running her hands along her body, and swayed her hips slowly to an imaginary song. He seemed to be enjoying it enough, so she moved closer and turned her back to him. Showcasing her flexibility, she bent herself in half with a deep arch in her back, and slowly brought herself back up. When she could feel his hand on her ass, she was quick to slap it away. "No touching the entertainer," she said in a mocking tone before continuing her dance.

She hadn't realized until now just how awkward it was to dance without music. She had been so accustomed to dancing either in her house or in a club that the silence that filled the room was deafening. It was just too… weird.

She was relatively proud of herself at the moment though, because she was getting the precise reaction that she was aiming for. He was thoroughly hypnotized by the movement of her hands on her body and the shifting of her hips from side to side. "Do you want to see more?" she asked, hooking a thumb into one of the straps of her outfit, and began to move it down her arm.

"Yes," he said eagerly, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

She slid her top down, untying it once she had turned away from him. The black lace fell to the floor and she covered both of her breasts with one arm before turning back to him again. "Do you want to come watch my audition?" she asked breathily, not ceasing her dancing.

For a moment, he closed off, and seemed to lose interest in what was before him. "No?" she questioned, finally stopping her dance.

"My apologies… I was distracted for a moment... I would love to watch your audition," he said, standing up from the chair he was sitting in. He turned her around and mimicked her movements from earlier. His hands traced down her body over her exposed skin and slipped into her panties. Krista's eyes fell closed at his gentle touch and she found herself pressing her body back into him, suddenly craving more. "And for the record, Fraulein, I can touch you whenever I please," he whispered almost possessively in her ear.

That tone nearly made her knees buckle, and it seemed to be the spur she needed to kick her desire for him into high gear. She felt her upper hand fall away into nonexistence as she allowed herself submit to him. "Yes you can," she muttered, melting into putty beneath his skilled fingertips. Krista then arched her back into him, her head falling atop his shoulder. As her neck relaxed and dropped to the side, his lips and tongue were quick to all but attack the skin there.

Reluctantly, she forced herself away from his touch, and turned around to face him again. His hands did not hesitate in grabbing her ass in turn making a soft moan fall from her lips. She took two steps backward, and steadied herself as she stood on one foot. She slowly drew her left leg up, her knee now at chest level. She paused for a moment and caught his fiery, lust filled gaze. "I heard you like flexible girls," she murmured in a sultry tone. With a firm grip, she wrapped the fingers of her left hand around her heel and extended her leg far above her head. He stepped forward, and she placed her free hand on his shoulder to hold herself still while she slowly brought her leg back down.

"You heard correctly." His fingers maneuvered their way into her loosely curled hair, and gave it a sharp tug, the column of her throat now fully exposed to him. "You drive me mad," he mumbled into her skin before his lips and tongue began a very slow journey to her mouth. "I mean it when I say I've never met a woman like you in my life. I think that you are more like myself than you realize."

The thought made her shiver. It seemed like he was implying that they would be the ideal couple. But as Krista has learned, it takes a special type of person to have a personality compatible with hers. While she was not interested in a formal relationship in any way, shape, or form, she knew that what they had now would fall apart at some point. "Oh really?" she challenged, reaching behind her head to pull his hand from her hair.

Shock spread over his face when she pulled her hand from her blonde locks. It was as if he was surprised that she had the nerve to try to regain the upper hand. He had to admit though; this back and forth was thrilling. He couldn't predict her next move and it kept him on his toes, never knowing what to expect.

Krista finally let her hand venture from his shoulder, her fingers grasping his tie in order to pull his body into her. "Two dominating personalities don't mix, Hans." She teasingly bit her lip as she caught his eyes again. She leaned forward and the tip of her tongue sneaked out to trace over his bottom lip before reducing her voice to a gravelly whisper. "It could get dangerous," she breathed in German.

"Prove it," he answered in German before Krista began to undress him and drag him to the bed.

April 13th, 1943; Tuesday (1:36 AM)

After an hour of waiting for Krista to drift off into a deep, exhaustion fueled sleep, he finally slipped from beneath her arm that was haphazardly draped over him. He crossed the room and began to redress, his eyes falling to Krista's sleeping form tangled in the sheets. He had had many partners over the years, and this American woman was without a doubt the most interesting and exciting to date. There was something about her that put him in an all-consuming trance no matter how hard he tried to resist it. The way she moved her body was hypnotizing, the way her lips teased his skin made him desire everything she could give him.

He shook those thoughts from his mind when he thought of the photograph that she had dropped from her seat at the bar the night they met. There was obviously a reason that she was in the possession of a photograph of an SS lieutenant that was under investigation for a clandestine alliance with the French Resistance. There was a connection between the girl and the lieutenant, he was certain of it. He just had to connect the dots.

Was she a spy? Maybe, but probably not. Was his money what she was after? Dubious. He assumed that whatever she was after had something to do with Jonas. But what it was, he didn't know yet. He hadn't compiled enough information.

Now fully dressed, he gave Krista one last glance before leaving her hotel room and heading off for a little more adult entertainment, because he just hadn't had enough.

Musky, floral perfumes and cigarette smoke mingled to fill the air with an aroma that was typical of a night club.

Hans paid his cover fee, and sat at his typical seat at the bar. "Usual, Hans?" The bartender asked, her black hair situated above her head neatly.

"Please, Miranda." She nodded and smiled, setting off to pour him his usual whiskey on the rocks.

She slid the glass to him, and took note of his somewhat disheveled appearance. "Rough night?" she questioned, picking up a wet rag to wipe down the countertop. "Any woman that can leave you looking like that is a keeper, and that's a fact." Her eyes drifted to his neck where she could see the very edge of a dark bruise. "You even let her mark you. Now that is something I wouldn't have ever expected."

He chuckled softly, raising his glass to his lips. "There's something about her that I simply can't figure out. She has the strangest effect on me."

"What's her name?" She asked.

"Krista," he replied, draining the rest of his glass with one drink. "She's a different breed, if you know what I mean. It's almost as if she is a siren of sorts."

She shook her head and dropped the rag into the bucket of soapy water that was sitting at her feet. "There are two new dancers that just started tonight if you'd like to meet them. They're on stage right now." Miranda nodded to the stage. "I think you'll like them. They're both Swedish."

"Well, my lady, if you would be so kind to refill my drink, I will be off to watch the show." He offered her a sweet smile before digging into his pocket to pull out a crumpled banknote. He straightened the bill out and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

"Enjoy your night, colonel." The exchanged one last smile before he turned away from the bar to scan the room for what he came here for in the first place.

And there she was, making her way across the floor to him, a devilish gleam in her eyes. "Hello, Hans," she purred, her hand falling to his chest gently. "Did you miss me? I haven't seen you in a few days."

"I do apologize, Nadia, but I've been very busy. I haven't had enough free time to do much of anything." He ran his hand through her hair, catching her deep brown eyes. "But I'm here now, am I not?"

"Yes," she mumbled softly. She also caught sight of the bruise on his neck, and frowned. "You were with her again, weren't you?" she asked almost sadly.

He sighed and looked down into her almost doll-like eyes again. "Yes, I was with her."

"Do you love her more than me?" She placed her other hand flat on his chest, and gazed into his eyes longingly. "Well, do you?"

Once when Hans had visited The Black Rose, he had made a comment about enjoying Nadia's company greatly. She interpreted what he said as 'I love you'. When he attempted to explain what he actually meant, she insisted that he truly did love her. He didn't, and whenever she brought it up he would try to dodge any further conversation. "Would you like to have a seat?"

And in a flash, she forgot what she was even talking about. But only for a moment.

Hans settled into a deep red arm chair, and Nadia draped herself across his lap. Her right arms slid around his neck while his curled around her waist, holding her close to him as they both watched the dancers on stage. "What can you tell me about Red's?" He asked her suddenly.

She turned to him and sighed. "Red has all of the most beautiful girls from all of Europe. She only hires the prettiest ones." She dropped her head.

"Then why aren't you there, sweets?" Hans asked her, tilting her head back up so their eyes could meet.

She sniffled, fighting back the tears that were sure to come. "I wasn't pretty enough. That's why I work here instead."

Nadia was a cute girl. Only in her early twenties, so much too young for him to actually pursue, but she was pretty. However, when compared to the mysterious Krista Jäger he had gotten himself mixed up with, there was no contest. Which is why he was so conflicted about his feelings for her. Were they real? Or did his imagination conjure them up because she was the total package. She was everything he had been in search of for a very long time. He just wasn't fully sure if she was trustworthy or not. Only time would tell. "My dear, don't cry. You are beautiful inside and out." He dropped a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You belong at Red's just as much as the others do."

"You mean it?" she asked him with innocent eyes.

"Of course I do. You're going to make some lucky man very happy one day." He tucked her hair behind her ear before taking a sip from his icy cold glass.

She looked down and absentmindedly toyed with the badges on his chest. "I want you to be the lucky one. I want to make you happy." She stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. "I want to marry you someday, Hans. I would make you happy forever."

Finding a way to respond was a struggle. For the life of him, he couldn't formulate an answer to let her down easily. "Nadia, I want you to listen to me. I enjoy your company. But I'm not sure that you are properly prepared for a marriage. You're so young still."

She immediately took offense. "I'm too young? Is that what's wrong with me? I thought you loved me!" She stood up, and tears began to trickle down her pale cheeks.

"You may have misunderstood what I said… I never explicitly said that I loved you, Nadia. Enjoying being in someone's company and being in love are two very different things."

"They aren't to me!" She shouted, tears flowing freely now. "Do you love her?" She asked angrily, her arms now folded tightly across her chest, her breasts pressed together as a result.

"I never said that." He tried, although he knew it was pointless. She caught him glance down at her breasts, and she drew a hand harshly across his face, the impact producing a loud slap.

"Fuck you, Hans! I hope I never see you again!" She stomped back to the dressing room, her kitten heels clicking furiously across the tiled floor.

He blinked a few times and shook his head before slamming the rest of his drink and dropping it off at the bar on his way out without a single word. He was in and out of the club in under five minutes. A new record.

After a long walk to his house, he laid in bed simply staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. He rolled on his side, and clutched the pillow that Krista always used when she stayed over. He buried his face in it, and inhaled deeply. It smelled just like her and her sexy rose scented perfume. He loved it on her. He inhaled the aroma trapped in the pillow once more before rolling onto his back once more, assuming his original position. She was intoxicating. She was bad for him and he knew it. Not to mention, he was still a little suspicious of her and her intentions.

When he closed his eyes, he saw her every time. Always with long, fluttery lashes to accentuate her emerald toned eyes, and deep red lipstick adorning her oh so kissable lips. He couldn't get enough of her, and she had a way of continually drawing him back. Surely this wasn't love… right?

MORE AUTHOR NOTES:

It's been ages since I worked on this story, and finally, all of the waiting has paid off.

This chapter went in a VERY different direction than I had originally planned, but I can't be mad about it. Blue Dream works wonders, my friends.

Anywho. The next chapter will be what this chapter was supposed to be. Hope you enjoyed!

-Taylor