A/N: I would have had this chapter up earlier, but my backyard caught on fire and I was the only one home at the time. It's so weird and frightening to look out your window and just see black smoke rising up from some point in your backyard.
So, anyways, hope this next chapter's worth the wait, although, not much happens in this one. Just Landa developing some feelings for Raine which he is thoroughly confused about. Also I have no idea where in France they were so I picked a place and made up some towns.
Warnings: Raine/Landa. Nothing much. Still developing Raine and his relationship. Um, hand fetish, but just a slight one.
Special thanks to Cutie Pie 9335 for all your support. Comments like yours keep this story going. So thanks again.
Also, special thanks to KitaroJeevas. I don't get a lot of comments or followers, so thanks for the encouragement. it really means a lot to me!
Col. Hans Landa's Notes Part One
So my plans haven't quite gone as I had hoped, and now I find myself a prisoner of The Basterds. And the entire 23 hours I have been their prisoner, never has Raine so much as let me out of arm's reach. He has either kept a very close eye on me or held me by my arm.
I have lost total control over the situation, but if I play my cards right I may be able to get out of this alive and with all my limbs still intact.
At first, I thought that I was, for certain, a dead man. I believed that as soon as The Basterds had gotten to some secluded area where my body wouldn't have been found for a while, that they would have killed me. And I truly believe that they would have, had it not been for Lieutenant Raine.
Lieutenant Raine is quite different from what I had expected, and yet not at the same time. When I had first heard about the great and fearsome Aldo the Apache, I envisioned I tall brute with a mind as wicked and vindictive as my own, but without my suave charisma, of course. And then when I first met him I believed him to be nothing more than a backwoods hick with more brawns than brains. But after spending some time with him, I learned this to be a snap judgment.
Aldo Raine wasn't stupid, but he wasn't close to being a genius either. He was somewhere in the middle, with just enough brains to come up with a half thought-out plan and enough stupidity to go through with it. With all the flaws I had seen in all his plans it was only by dumb luck that they were all still alive.
His thick southern drawl was another thing that I found interesting about him. While I found a southern accent on most people made them sound dumb and unrefined, on him it seemed to fit. His voice was as smooth and rich as black coffee and was quite pleasing to the ear, when he wasn't being condescending and malicious, that is.
I vaguely remember falling asleep last night. I remember being roughly pushed down onto a bag of feed after hobbling down the loft's stairs and blacking out for a bit. But my slumber didn't last long, because soon I was being awoken again by a hard slap to my shoulder. After that I watched the young private… Ulmer? Was it? Leave the barn, before I turned my attention back to Raine and watched him get settled in for the night. The last thing I saw before I drifted back into a world of blissful darkness was Raine's smirking face watching me. Smug Basterd.
I was awoken this morning by a not so gentle kick to my leg. "OW!" I exclaimed as I quickly bolted upright and off the bags I was laying on.
"Rise an' shine, Sleeping Beauty. Time ta start the mornin'," Raine said, looking at me with the same smirking face I fell asleep to last night. I would hate to think that would be the face I would fall asleep to and wake up to every day until I die (in other words, until they killed me).
I watched as Donny called over Raine to where he and the other Lieutenant, Hicox, sat. They had a small exchange as I sat up on the bags and leaned back against the barn wall. I wanted nothing more that to close my eyes and go back to sleep for a few more hours. And, hopefully, the next time I woke up I would find myself in my bed back in Germany. No Swastika carved into my face. No insufferable Basterds bothering me. And no Aldo Raine to smirk contemptuously at me.
Too soon, Raine returned to where I dozed in and out of sleep and slapped my shoulder again, but at least this time he did it lightly. "Get up," he commanded as he backed away to give me room to get up.
I stood up slowly, feeling every ache in my body come alive. My joints popped and my bones creaked with every movement, and my back was screaming at me with pain. Feed bags did not offer much support.
"Come on, hurry it up," said Raine as he grabbed me by my arm and forcibly hauled me to my feet. "I gotta take a leak." And now that he said something about it, so did I.
"Hold on a moment," I protested, angrily, as I yanked my arm out of his grasp. "I'm not quite as young as you, you know!"
He stood there for a moment just staring at me, dumbfounded and a bit shocked. But he quickly recovered and angrily replied, "Well, it seems you have forgotten who I am an' where you are. Let me refresh yer memory. Yer MY prisoner!"
I took a step back and watched him closely. I was just waiting for him to reach out and hit me, or something. He was angry; practically seething. And I was prepared to fight him if he tried to hit me. Even with my hands shackled I would fight him. I would lose, there was no doubt in that fact, but I'd be damned if I put up with much more of this from him or any of the other Basterds.
It was I who allowed them to kill Hitler. And I who allowed them all to live when they were all at the movie theater. I know my reputation as The Jew Hunter is not a very pleasant one to them, but it is a lie. I am not a Jew hunter! I am a detective, and yes I admit that some of the people I found just happened to be Jews, but I am not a Jew hunter by trade. I am a detective! And a damn good one at that!
"Fine!" Raine finally yelled. "If ya don't have'ta take a piss, ya can just stay 'ere with Donny and the boys." I cringed at the thought of being alone with his men. If I was left alone with them I'm sure they'd all beat me within an inch of my life. And the only reason they hadn't already was because of their deep loyalty to Raine. And Raine wanted me alive. Sure, Raine may push me around and get on my every nerve, but he's never out-right beat me for the fun of it. But I can see that Donny wants to. Nothing would please him more than beating my brains in with his bat and scalping my head; not necessarily in that order, mind you.
Raine turned away from me and started walking off, and as he did I heard Donny snicker from somewhere behind me. A feeling of trepidation washed over me and I knew I had just made a bad choice. But just when I thought Raine was going to leave me to my fate, he stopped and turned his head around to look back at me. It was a silent, wordless question he was asking me.
"Are you coming?"
He was giving me one last chance and I wasn't going to pass it up again. I quickly jogged over to him and followed him out the barn.
After we finished our business, I found myself being dragged around to the other side of the house and to the water spigot.
Raine was kind enough to take the handcuffs off me for bit as he instructed me to wash up. I rubbed at my red wrists where they had been rubbed raw by the cuffs. I watched the young private Utivich wash up in front of me and I rotated my attention from the private who was splashing water onto his face and Raine who was taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves to his shirt.
Once Utivich was done he turned to Raine and had a small exchange with him as he dried himself off, but I paid them no mind as I turned on the spigot and cupped my hands under the falling stream of water. After I had caught some water in my hands I splashed it up into my face. It was cold and biting, but it also felt refreshing to my mud and blood caked face. I began to wash away the filth that had accumulated, but stopped when I felt a sharp, burning pain in my forehead. My fingertips, lightly, brushed against the dried blood that had formed over the Swastika carving and I hissed in pain.
Of all the things that the Basterds had done to me or would do to me, the Swastika carving on my forehead was what I hated the most. It was humiliating, dehumanizing, and ugly. I was marked, like cattle going to slaughter or a dog that was owned, but now that I think about it, there was a sort of bitter irony to it. I was like a dog that had been marked by his master. I was even treated like such. I was like Raine's dog. Heck, I couldn't even so much as take a piss without his permission like a dog. How did that saying go? Oh, how the mighty have fallen? Or something of that nature.
I carefully tried to clean around the Swastika as best as I could without causing myself too much pain. My only hope now was that it hadn't gotten infected.
"Let me see." I heard Raine say from behind me. I turned around and glanced at him and finally noticed that the young private was gone and that we were now the only ones at the spigot.
"What?" I asked, confused. What did he want to see? Was that some sort of sexual innuendo or something? And how on God's green earth am I suppose to know what that meant? Typical American to tell you to do something, but not explain what and how to do it. Not that I was going to do it anyways, mind you; especially if it was some sort of sexual innuendo.
"The Swastika on yer forehead," Raine explained, rolling his eyes at me. "Let me see if it's infected 'er not." It was kind of creepy how he seemed to have read my mind.
When I didn't move he walked over to me and roughly gripped my chin and pulled my face closer to his. He started to slowly, but firmly, turn my head to each side and carefully began to inspect the Swastika carving. And all the while he had this that damnable smirk was plastered on his smug face, like he was admiring his handy work. Smug Basterd.
But then he did something that I hadn't expected. He took a towel from off the porch and started gently cleaning out the carving he had made. I flinched and cringed from the pain at first, but he just held my chin tighter and pulled me closer. When I stopped moving he started cleaning the wound again. Soon, his grip on my chin loosened and the pain in my forehead became bearable.
It was odd to say the least. I never figured Raine would even have cared if I got an infection out here and died. In fact, I thought he would be happy if I died out here, that way he wouldn't have to drag me around two countries or more. But what I found even more fascinating than that was how gentle his hands were.
Raine was a man known for his ferocious killing techniques and brutish tendencies, and so was rightfully feared by many Nazis. His hands were large and calloused, what you would have expected the hands of a seasoned soldier's to look like. They were rough and scarred and having your throat trapped in them brought out a primal fear that was almost animalistic in nature. Looking at them and knowing what they felt like when they had a death grip on you, you would never have believed them capable of being so gentle. But as they tenderly gripped my chin and cleaned out my wounds, I found them to be a polar opposite to how Raine usually acted. From how he behaved I did not believe he could actually ever be this gentle. But once again Aldo Raine has proven me wrong. It would seem that the more I learn about Aldo Raine, the more confused I become. The man is an anomaly to me. An enigma just waiting to be solved. And usually I would like a good puzzle to solve, but Aldo Raine was one that seemed to be a permanent puzzle. Even if I had my whole life to study and watch the man I don't believe that I would ever be able to truly figure the man out.
As he continued to clean my wound, he seemed to be concentrating very hard on his task. His brow was furrowed and his lips were drawn into a tight line. And I soon found myself staring, intently, at his lips. This scared me, so I quickly averted my eyes. Why did I stare at his lips like that? It's not as if they were really that fascinating, and yet, I somehow found myself drawn to them. Drawn to this whole man, in fact. There was just something about Raine that intrigued me. His whole persona just lured me in and captivated me, and I now find myself at a loss at what to do.
"Ther' all done. It doesn't look to be infected and shouldn't get infected if ya just keep it clean," said Raine as he tossed the now bloody towel aside and began to wash his hands. Once he was finished he turned back to me and quickly slapped the cuffs back onto my wrists.
"Really, Lieutenant?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm and agitation playing on my tone. "Are these absolutely necessary?"
"Yes." Raine replied curtly, that stupid smirk on his face again. And again I say he is one smug Basterd. "Come on." He grabbed the chain that connected my shacked hands together and started to pull me along, by now I was far beyond caring how he manhandled me.
On our way back to the barn we passed by Stiglitz, who completely ignored us in favor of heading straight for the water spigot. But after he disappeared around the house, Hicox exited the barn and Raine called out to him.
"Hey, Archie," greeted Raine. "Goin' to wash up?"
"Yes, actually," Hicox replied, a charming smile playing at his lips. Hicox struck me as the kind of man who spent most of his life working in espionage. And with a smile like that he probably did very well.
"Well, while yer ther' could ya tell Hugo to hurry it up?" Asked Raine, give me a hard tug, forcing me to move closer to him.
"Yeah, I'll do that."
"Oh, and one more thing. Have ya seen Omar this morning'?"
"Is he not at the spigot with Stiglitz?"
"Naw, haven't seen 'im all morning'."
"Well, me either, but I'll keep an eye out for him."
I quirked an eyebrow as Hicox passed us and Raine dragged me into the barn. Interesting. The other young private was missing?
When we had returned to the barn we noticed that Mrs. Grégoire had set out a plate of bread and cheese with a pitcher of milk next to it. Raine walked us over to the platter and took a slice of cheese from it and sniffed it curiously. "Uh-huh, just what I thought," exclaimed Raine. The other three soldiers, who were previously enjoying their breakfast, quickly stopped their chewing and stared up at their leader apprehensively. And, needless to say, I too was anxious to know what it was that Raine knew. "Goat cheese an' I bet that's goat milk. They must run a goat farm, but it's odd that I don't see any goats." I could see the relief that washed over the others' faces when Raine explained his findings to them.
Raine then sat me on the floor next to him as he sat himself down on a pile of feed. He took two tin cups that were next to the pitcher and filled them up with milk and then handed one to me which I gratefully took. Until then I hadn't realized how thirsty I was, and I finished the whole drink in one go. Then he handed me a slice of bread with a piece of cheese on it. The bread was still warm, which had me assuming that it was homemade bread that Mrs. Grégoire had made fresh just that morning.
I took a bite of, what I suspected would be my only meal of the day, and as I did Stiglitz and Hicox entered the barn, Hicox looking a little uncomfortable and Stiglitz looking a little smug.
"Is that homemade bread?" Asked Hicox, clearing his throat and walking up to Raine.
"I suspect it is. Try it. It's real good," replied Raine, chewing on his own piece of bread and cheese.
"I think that I will do just that," responded Hicox, taking one of the last three slices of bread, and moving aside to let Stiglitz do the same.
And just when I thought that that was the end of the bread, Mrs. Grégoire came into the barn carrying a brand new loaf. "I hope you boys enjoyed my homemade bread," said Mrs. Grégoire as she walked over to the empty bread platter and placed the new loaf on it.
"Yes, M'am. It's very delicious," answered Raine as he stood up to greet her.
"Yes Madam. You are a most exceptional cook," compliment Hicox, using a bit of his British charm.
"Oh, please, Lieutenants. You only say that because you're hungry," replied Mrs. Grégoire, but you could see that the flattery had gotten to her by the tell-tale pink tinge on her cheeks. "Oh, yes. Before I forget. My husband wishes to know what you will do now."
"Um, well…" started Raine, scratching his chin in his usual manner, "I've been thinking' 'bout that, and I promise to get outta yer hair as soon as possible. But first we need to find a way to get out of this country."
"Well," stated Mrs. Grégoire as she smoothed down the wrinkles in her brown skirt, "whatever you need you have only to ask. I'll be in the house."
"Lieutenant," said Hicox, after Mrs. Grégoire had left the barn. "What are we going to do? After operation Kino we were supposed to travel to Rouen, where a radio would contact us with the British embassy and then they would air lift us out of here. But since the Nazis have taken over Rouen I doubt we'll be leaving this country any time soon."
"Hm, it was a bit of a speed bump in our plans, when the Nazis took over Rouen before we killed Hitler, but we'll just have to make do with what we've got."
"Which would be what exactly?" Asked Hicox. "Four American Yanks. A Nazi traitor. An Austrian with a taste for killing Nazis. A British espionage agent. And a Nazi prisoner."
"Perhaps," I interjected Hicox's rant, "the Nazi prisoner could be of some assistance." After everyone went silent and turned to stare at me I continued. "If I remember correctly, there should be a Nazi military camp with an operational radio near Rouen."
"Well, that helps a lot," stated Hicox sarcastically, rolling his eyes at me. "Yes, let's go from one Nazi infested town to another."
I gave the other Lieutenant a sharp glare, but said nothing to him, just continued talking. "This town is not well known. The Führer had camps like these placed, secretly, all over France in case he needed to flee and get to a safe place. So, this camp I was talking about would not be well known or have a lot of security. And with me helping you, you could easily get in."
It was quiet for a long while, but Raine, as usual, was the first to break the silence. "Yer sure?" Was all he asked.
"Positive."
"Yes, well," said Hicox, "you can be as sure as you like about the radio being there, but I'm not so sure that we can trust you not to lead us into a trap."
"He has a point, Landa," responded Raine. "What guarantee can you give us that you won't lead us to our deaths?"
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," I said, exasperated, "I'm already your captive, am I not?" I emphasized my point by lifting my shackled hands up for them to see.
"Exactly why I think that you'd turn on us the first chance you got," replied Hicox, haughtily.
Hicox and I glared each other down for what felt like an eternity, and while we were doing that Raine sat, pensively, next to me.
"Alright," stated Raine as he finished his thought and was ready to vocalize them. "Seeing as we 'ave no other options at the time. It seems the ex-Colonel Landa may be our only way out of this Hell hole."
I knew they'd see it my way. I mean, really they had no other choice.
"Alright, Landa," he said, looking me straight in the eye, "yer gonna take me to this place. Help me get inside and get to the radio, and then help me get back out alive again. Do this and I'll put in a good word for ya. Deal?"
His men looked completely stunned. They looked at him like he had gone completely insane. And I didn't blame them. It is stupid to put so much blind faith in a man considered to be your enemy. So then, why was he trusting me so freely?
"Yes," I finally answered, softly, never once taking my eyes off his. They were the most captivating shade of blue I had ever seen. And if I was any less a man, I'd even go so far as to say that they were beautiful.
"Good, then all that's left is for us, Basterds, to work out all the little details in between," said Raine, joyfully, finally breaking eye contact with me and standing up to look Hicox in the eye. "And why we do that…" he slowly turned his gaze back toward me and where I sat on the floor. "Private Utivich can take watch outside with you." And once again there was that smirk I hated so much on his face. He knew something I didn't, and he was rubbing that fact in my face.
A/N: Finally! It's done! Hope you all enjoyed it! It may be awhile before I post the next chapter. I have a lot of insurance guys wanting to talk to me about the fire. But the sad thing is that they know about as much as I do at this point, and they weren't even here when it happened *sigh*. Also, I'm writing another fic for the movie 3:10 to Yuma. It's going to be Ben Wade/Dan Evans slash. So if ya like that pairing check out my profile till I have it up. I'm still writing it right now.
Spot any grammar mistakes let me know.
Next Chapter - Pfc. Smithson Utivich's Notes Part One. Utivich/Donny Slash! Woot! Some Utivich Landa… bonding? They become sort of friends. Utivich is confused about his relationship with Donny. Utivich thinks their relationship is only about sex. Donny thinks otherwise, but has a hard time conveying his feelings to Utivich, and every time he tries, it usually ends up coming out wrong. And thus causes Utivich to get upset, which in turn causes Donny to get upset. There's a lot of yelling and UST. Can they resolve this? Read the next chapter to find out! ;)