Disclaimer: All characters and themes are the product of Quentin Tarantino's genius. Any others not native to the film are my own creations that are not set out to improve upon or change an already stunning production. I only intend to quench my need for an extended version of the character's lives. The basterds originally come to France in the spring of 1944. I have brought them a little earlier. The original film remains truthful.

I have not written in months now and truly I feel incredibly guilty about leaving this story. I have been at University you see so it has been really difficult for me to find the time to write and now, just as I have a spare moment when I should probably be sleeping, I know that this is the time to get a few chapters done! Please enjoy and keep reviewing.

25th of September 1942

"Right boys and Belle: as you know we need someone to keep watch tonight as we are in a pretty hot area. I think that it is fair to say the most likely pair would be Donny and Belle but I don't want you two fightin'. I mean that now unless you wanna be the next two scalped."
"Sir." Donny viewed his shoes.
"Yes Lieutenant."

Both Annabelle and Donny were upset with the decision as spending the night awake together was a daunting prospect considering their history. The night came too fast for them and soon the black sky had signalled for the fire to be put out and the basterds be put to bed in their carefully concealed tents of wool and twigs. They had one tiny lamp between them so they would not attract attention which forced them close together. Annabelle stared into the blackness of the wood perfectly still in a solitary state of discipline. Donny fidgeted beside her trying to warm his icy hands becoming more frustrated with the overwhelming silence, just wishing that Utivich might grunt in his sleep again or Omar get up for some water. She sat like a statue with the wind making her hair the only point of movement apart from the occasional slow blink hinting at fatigue. Donny felt his eyes grow heavier as every second passed. He wanted to say something but there was nothing to say. She made him feel uncomfortable by the way she reserved herself so conspicuously. He looked at his boots. There was a mark on them that was shaped like a spider elevated like a thick splash of mud. Suddenly, it moved.

"Whoa fuck!" Donny sprang up then fell backwards onto the leafy ground onto his hind.
"Ssh Donny!" Annabelle whispered. He had made her jump.
"Hey look there was a… never mind. There 'aint no Germans out here anyway. Stop bein' so uptight."
"You don't know that and I'm not uptight."
"Sure are. You might as well have a fuckin' stick up your ass."
"You're so rude you know that?"
"and what? This is the fucking Second World War honey. There's no time for manners when everything has gone to shit." Annabelle shook her head with a false smile and stared out again into the black.
"Hey don't shake your head like I'm lower than you. We're all the same. If you wanna be a basterd, act like one."
"All the same? If we are 'all the same' as you put it then why won't you let me be silent? You have no problem letting Stiglitz be solitary so why can't I? If you hate me so much because you think I'm a snob then stay out of my way."

Her teeth were clenched shut mirroring her balled knuckles that were visibly turning white at the tension even in the dim light. Donny stared at her trying to hate what he saw but it was becoming harder and harder to hate something that never really hurt anyone – apart from Germans of course. He had got what he wanted, a broken silence but for what? She suddenly sprung up from her position startling him, patted the dirt from her legs and walked straight forward into the forest. Donny called to her in a throaty, elevated whisper Annabelle, Annabelle! Where the fuck you going? Anna… fuck! He followed her quickly, leaving the lamp behind squinting at the sheer blackness of the forest. His steps crunched sticks as he went, twigs scraping at his arms. He caught a glimpse of a shard of white in the darkness partially lit by the moon. He headed towards it whispering Annabelle until he realised the white was the flag on the back of her coat. As he neared it darted to the right behind a tree and Annabelle's harsh voice growled through the trees in a vicious whisper.

"Go back you moron! I'm trying to have a wee!"

Blushing, Donny ran back to the spot by the lamp feeling rather embarrassed at the intrusion he had made but on seeing her march back red faced and angry he had to stifle a laugh. Annabelle flopped down beside him with a sharp expulsion of air exaggerating her haughty emotion which caused Donny to snort with laughter.

"Oh Donny do be quiet."
"I'm sorry…" He laughed "That was just so funny!"
"Child..."

Donny was now in fits and Annabelle herself even began to smirk despite her repeating it's not funny over and over. It was the first time she had laughed since her family were murdered and it felt good. She felt light. She felt fire. Pieces of her were coming back and the stiffness of her so often vexed face was loosening to reveal the genuine smile she used to possess so readily when she was a girl. Donny of all people had helped give that back to her.

"You know," Donny scoffed "That's the first time I have ever seen you smile. Was startin' to think you 'aint got one."
"I wasn't always like this you know; Miserable all the time quite the opposite actually. I was in fact a rather charming girl would you believe. In a world of men one must become a man to survive but I don't want to be a man anymore."
"Hey look you're out here killin' more Nazis than most men in this war, not as much as me though but still. Anyways you look like a lady and you speak like a fine one so don't you worry about that."
"Thank you Donny."

She smiled at him now looking directly into the black pools that mirrored her own. His skin burned for a moment making him tense. Her head turned towards the forest again but he carried on staring at her. Despite the hot temper she possessed, there was something more there that he wanted to be part of. He wanted to unlock the secrets hidden away in her mind and unravel what no one else knew. She intrigued him and that was something Donny couldn't resist. Ever since he was a boy in his father's barber shop he had always been intrigued by the solitary. He loved old Mr Jenkins – who would only come in to have his beard trimmed letting the wild mane of thick brown curls go wild – because Mr Jenkins had secrets. He lived on a lonely hill in silence, shut away only coming out for his weekly trip to the barbers. To Donny, Annabelle lived in the house at the top of the hill only there for the fight before hiding again internally keeping herself company and then burdening her heart with her own secrets. He wanted to go into the house and find the treasure or monstrosity that lay within. Either way, Donny had to know.