Author's Notes: Hey there, so… Give my shit a shot, I know you wanna. Who can say no to a nice Nazi killin' story? Well, I can't.
Disclaimer: I'd be really honored to own em all, but sadly don't, I'm just borrowin' em for a bit of playin' and will gladly return em without too much damage.
Bar Châtelet, Paris, France March 1945
19-03-1945, 09-23pm
The Châtelet is a little bar in the heart of Paris. It's kind of dimly lit and a comfy place for Frenchmen to escape the world outside for a few hours. Germans usually don't come here, too little light and too little awe of their uniforms. Much more of a surprise it was when word went round that German singer, Hitler's favorite even, Mariza Hohenberg, asked the owner if she could sing there.
He hadn't trusted her, but when she appeared in the little tavern two hours before it opened and had a short rehearsal with the jazz band which usually played there, he was awestruck. The woman in front of him wore different clothes than the ones he had seen her wear on the concert posters that littered the streets - her black sleeveless dress was long and wide and swayed when she walked or moved her hips to the beat and the denim jacket looked a bit mangy on the usually so elegant woman. She was also taller than he had thought, 5'9" if he guessed right and the eyes that he imagined to be the perfect Aryan blue were jet black. But that wasn't the only thing that seemed out of the picture; she didn't sing one of her own German songs but a wide variety of French and American jazz songs.
Her French was better than he expected; no gruesome German accent that he hated more than anything these days and she seemed far less overly self assured than most of her countrymen and women were. She joked with the band and seemed to have no superficial wishes - just a good glass of wine. He still eyed her every move as she made her way down the stage, because the bar was going to open soon and got onto one of the bar stools. She watched him clean a few glasses and place a glass of Cabernet Franc in front of her. She nodded with a sly smile and took a sip. After a few moments she looked back up and he was still staring at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing." he wove aside.
"No, honestly. What's wrong?" she laughed.
"You're different than I imagined you to be." he stated flatly.
"Never judge a book by its cover." she answered the unasked question while slipping down the bar stool while the first few people entered and made her way to the little stage.
Mariza smiles and bides Emanuelle good bye. Emanuelle grins and tugs her blonde shoulder long hair behind her ear. The singer has had a wonderful conversation with the woman about music, movies. The two seem to agree on many things and have agreed to meet again; tomorrow for lunch.
The German walks up to the bar again and seats herself on the bar stool in the corner of the tavern, eyeing two men in the opposite direction of herself. She doesn't know why, but they seem out of place. One of them has dark brown uncombed hair and from what she can guess brown eyes. He wears a gruff expression while the dark blonde man smiles slightly. They talk silently and from what she can tell out of her angle at least one of them is armed. She takes a few sips of her third Cabernet Franc and lets her eyes wander over the rest of the place. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees the blonde give the owner a sign that he wants to pay. She takes another sip and when the owner comes back, she also wants to pay but the owner refuses to let her. In the end she leaves the money on the bar, because the men are just slipping out of the door.
She walks out into the streets of Paris and slips the shoes off her feet. Keeping her distance, she follows them silently down countless alleys out of the city. The streets seem unnaturally silent today; no Nazis patrolling around. It isn't long until she recognizes the way they are walking. Her home, the LaFayette Mansion, is the only house near where they are heading. Now her interest is piqued. What could those men want near her house? They walk on and on, the men ahead of her talking now again. In the silence of the empty road towards her house, she can clearly hear that they are talking. The brown haired one sounds Tyrolean like Josef and the other one has an odd accent she can't really place. About 10 minutes after they have passed the roadway up to the La Fayette Mansion, the two of them get off the road and walk along the fence of the estate for a while before disappearing into the forest. After debating with herself for a moment, she follows them behind the tree line.
A/N: Now, I know that Archie just meets the Basterds shortly before the meeting with Bridget Von Hammersmark and that they meet in Nadine, but this is fanfiction and AU, so let me have my fun.