A/N: When writing fan fiction one must leave the realm of probability and enter into the realm of possibilities. That's about all I have to say.
Warnings: SLASH! Lots and lots of sexy SLASH! This story is rated M for Mature for a reason.
Special thank to shoeychocolatXD for the review! And I'm glad you liked my slash interpretations of the Basterds better than the straight ones. : ) It also makes me very happy that it was my story that, as you put it, " …corrupted your basterd ideals and drew you into the slash fandom of the basterds." And may I just say on behalf of the whole IB slash community, "Welcome to the IB slash fandom. Pull up a chair, sit back, and enjoy the slash."
PS - I hope this 'longer than normal' chapter makes up for the fact that I won't be able to upload future chapters very quickly.
Pfc. Smithson Utivich's Notes Part One
It happened about… Hm, well, I don't even know how long it's been. It's hard to keep track of stuff like that out here. Time and distance. I know it's important that you do, and I do my best to try, but after awhile everything seems to just blend together. But back to what I was saying before.
It had to have happened about, maybe, a month or two before the success of operation Kino. The long nights get lonely out here and with only your hand and the cold, hard ground to comfort you, the nights seem even longer.
At the beginning of operation Kino, when I first joined the Basterds, Donny and I became fast friends. We spent most of our free time together, just paling around. And then one night as we sat hunched together to stave off the cold, our backs against a tree, keeping watch for any Nazi scum that may have come creeping around, Donny leaned in a little closer to me and spoke a little softer. Though these things were subtle, the mood shifted so quickly that I could have sworn to feeling the earth move beneath me. Suddenly, I felt very hot and any smart remarks I could have made escaped me. All I could seem to focus on was that strong arm pressed flush against me and how big he truly was. Now, I could really understand why they called him the Bear Jew.
He whispered something, or maybe he didn't, I can't remember, all I know was in the next second he had my back pushed up against that tree and his mouth was viciously trying to suck my lips off. I shifted to try and give him better access, but the sitting position I was in made it very hard to do, especially when Donny refused to let up even for a second. I wasn't able to move, but he seemed completely fine with squatting down in front of me and leaning all his weight onto me.
I tried to push him off me for a second, but to no avail. I only caused him to push down harder on me. I got the message. He wanted me to stay put, but I'd be damned if I just laid there and took it like some whore.
Doing a neat, little leg trick I learned I was able to upset his balance and throw him off me. He hit the ground with a soft thud and I heard the air escape him. Using his momentary confusion, I tackled him and it was my turn to ravish his mouth. It was a good feeling to see him confused, stunned, and aroused.
He gripped my shoulders and I knew he was going to try and flip us again, so I reached down and palmed him through his pants. This had the desired effect and he tensed up and stilled. He quickly jerked his head to the side and broke our intense kiss.
"Jeez, Smithson," panted Donny, turning to look at me again. "A little feisty, aren't we?"
"I don't take stuff lying down," I told him, squeezing his cock to get my point across. A moan escaped his lips as his eyes turned feral and he stared intensely up at me. I don't think I had ever seen him look so intense; so terrifying. It had me wavering.
"You will for me," he growled out.
He moved quicker than I had ever seen him before as he flipped us and pinned my arms down to my sides. He settled his weight on my legs, effectively pinning them. I twisted and bucked to try and throw him off me, but he just remained firm and held me down until I ran out of energy. When he wanted something, he wasn't shy about getting it.
I lay under him panting, but was pleased to see that he too was a bit winded. It's good to know that even though I couldn't throw him off me, I still put up a good challenge. He slowly moved my pinned arms from my sides to above my head before he pinned them both down using only one of his large, powerful hands.
I looked up at him, a challenge in my eyes as he smirked down at me. "You know Utiv." He said lazily as he leaned down and pressed his lips close to my ear. So close, in fact, I could feel them move when he spoke. "I like it when you put up a fight."
I groaned in pleasure. I don't know why that turned me on so much; it just did. I lifted my hips and rubbed gently against his quickly rising cock. Glad to know I wasn't the only one getting worked up.
He groaned as I continued to grind against him and his lips soon found my neck. I leaned my head back and allowed him unrestricted access to the tender flesh. I felt his free hand slip under my shirt and slowly creep its way up my body, teasing the flesh there as it went. I really wished he'd let go of my hands. I was beginning to believe that this was a new form of slowly torture. To be touched, but to never touch. Oh, he was driving me insane. I groaned again, this time very loudly.
He chuckled at me as he pulled away from my neck and looked me in the eyes. "Why Utiv. Are you growing impatient? Haven't you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?" He asked sarcastically, that damnable smirk of his widening.
"Shut up," I muttered as I leaned up and caught his lips once more.
I was floating on cloud nine. So intoxicated by Donny's mouth that I didn't notice that someone was approaching us until it was too late.
A cough broke our make-out session as Donny pulled away from me like he had been burned, and I turned to see who had walked in on us. I prayed it wasn't Raine. Thankfully, God took pity on me and it wasn't Raine. It was Wicki, and he seemed just as embarrassed by the whole situation as we were.
"Raine," he coughed, awkwardly, "wanted me to check on you two. See if you both were doing fine. And now that I see you're doing more than fine I'll be on my way."
"Yep. Yep," said Donny just as awkwardly as he tried to scramble off of me. "Uhhhh, does he need us for anything?"
"No. He just wanted me to check on you," answered Wicki as he turned away from us and started walking off.
"I think," I began, feeling a blush rise up my neck and to my face. "Maybe we should start heading back to camp. I don't think there are any Nazis out here who are going to bother us."
"Yeah, yeah," replied Donny, a blush covering his own face.
So, that's how everything started. We've never, you know, had sex; never had the time. But any chances we get, we usually take advantage of it, because out here you never know when your last day will be.
So, several months and one successful mission later and I find myself in a barn, somewhere in the French countryside, happily chowing down on breakfast. When Lieutenant Raine came marching in with his new lapdog in tow. I was enjoying my breakfast too, until Raine took a piece of cheese and started sniffing it, suspiciously. Then I got nervous.
He looked very serious as he stared at it, and his expression had me slowing down the pace at which I was chewing.
"Uh-huh, just what I thought," proclaimed Raine, and I swear we all stopped chewing at the same time. "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 swallowed hard and let my shoulders relax again. For a moment there, Raine had us all worrying that that would've been our last meal. After that we all, happily, went back to finishing our breakfast. Only Donny seemed to still be a little peeved at the scare Raine had given us. Thankfully, though, Raine was too busy caring for his lapdog to notice the evil glare Donny sent his way.
Soon, Stiglitz and Hicox returned from washing up and joined us for breakfast. Something was up with them two; I just don't know what. There always seems to be a tense air around them. And then this morning when Hicox had asked me if I thought Stiglitz was acting strange lately. I didn't at the time, but now that he said something and I paid more attention, I would have to say that they both had been acting strange since that bar incident with that Major. But that's something to dwell on another time.
After breakfast and a little planning, I was sent to keep watch with Landa. Actually, I wasn't so much as sent to keep watch with him, as I was to keep watch of him. Basically, I got volunteered for babysitting duty.
I stood at the side of the barn, watching the gravel road that led to the house. Occasionally, I would glance over to Landa and see how he was doing. He was sitting, maybe two or three feet away from me, his back leaning against the barn wall and in his shackled hands he held a bloodied handkerchief, that the night before he had used to stop the bleeding of the Swastika. Now it was just a bloody messy of a rag and unusable. So, with a tired sigh he flung the useless rag down and leaned his head back against the wall.
I decided to try and be nice to him, even though he was a lower than dirt, piece of, Jew killing, crap. The lieutenant had taken a liking to him, so maybe I should get to know him a bit.
"You know," I said, trying to start a conversation, "you should really get that thing stitched up or something."
He looked at me like I was some kind of abstract painting that you had to squint your eyes at to see.
Jeez, I mean, I was only trying to be nice.
"And how exactly should I do that?" He asked dully. "Unless you have a first aid kit hidden on your person somewhere I don't think that is even an option."
I was about to quip something nasty at him, but decided to hold my tongue. He was partially right, after all. I didn't have any medical supplies on me. "Well, we could see if Mrs. Grégoire has any medical supplies."
"You would do that for me?" He asked.
"Yeah, sure" I replied, walking over to where he sat.
"Why?" He asked, sounding honestly confused.
"Because you need it?" Was 'just cause' not a good enough answer anymore?
"No, no. What I meant was why are you being so nice to me, when everyone else would love nothing more than to see me tortured and killed?"
"Well, I don't think Lieutenant Raine wants to see you killed. Tortured, maybe, but killed, I don't think so." Not now, at least. Raine has seemed to grow attached to the ex-Nazi Colonel in the short time he's been with us.
"Perhaps," he said, thoughtfully. "But that doesn't explain why you don't want me dead."
"Now, I didn't say that. What I said was, the only person that didn't, probably, want to see you dead was Raine."
"I see," he replied with a quick nod of his head. "So, you are only being nice to me to be to… How would you Americans put it? Up to kiss the boss?"
What he said had me sputtering (and probably blushing) and I turned to look at him. I knew he had said the phrase wrong and I knew what he meant, but it still was a little surprising to hear so suddenly.
"Urm… What you meant to say was, 'kiss up to the boss'." I corrected.
"Well, that does make more sense, I suppose."
"Alright," I said grabbing him by the shoulder and hoisting him up. "Get up. We're going to see if Mrs. Grégoire has something to patch your forehead up with."
We walked up to the house and I knocked on the front door, tersely. Mrs. Grégoire, herself, answered the door.
"Yes, can I help you with something?" She asked sweetly.
"Yes, maybe," I answered. "Do you have anything we could use to bandage up his forehead with?" I threw my thumb in Landa's general direction behind me.
She pushed open the door she was standing behind and walked up to Landa. She looked very closely at the carving, then said, "It will need stitches to help keep it from getting infected and to help it heal properly. I could stitch it up. I have everything that is needed."
"That would be great," I exclaimed, happily.
"Good. Then please come inside."
We followed her into her small kitchen where she sat Landa down on a small wooden stool. She quickly called for someone in French and then went to her pantry and pulled out a small tin box. I heard soft footsteps coming from down the hall as Mrs. Grégoire sat the tin box on the table in front of Landa and in the next second the French, Jewish daughter of their friend was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
A small exchange in French was had between Mrs. Grégoire and the girl before she went about gathering some other stuff. I tried to stay as much out of the way as possible, but that was a little easier said than done, especially in such a small kitchen. The Jewish daughter milled about the kitchen like a busy honey bee, and I felt even more in the way, so I just pressed my back flush against the door and hoped no one needed to go outside.
"Please face me," I heard Mrs. Grégoire command Landa as she took out a small bottle from the tin box and poured some of its contents onto a towel.
It looked like rubbing alcohol, and from the way Landa grimaced in pain when she rubbed his cut with it, made me think that I was right. I snickered at Landa's pain and couldn't help but feel a little self-satisfied over the fact.
"You have kept the wound surprisingly clean," commented Mrs. Grégoire, "it doesn't appear to be infected."
Her remark reminded me of the little scene I saw between Landa and Raine earlier that morning.
I had just finished up washing when Raine and Landa appeared behind me. I cheerfully greeted Raine as Landa washed up and then started on my way back to the barn. But on my way there, I stopped and turned to see that Lieutenant Raine had Landa's chin in a tight grip and was meticulously cleaning out the Swastika.
It was then that a bunch of little things between the two of them began to make a lot of sense. Like how protective (and possessive) Raine was of Landa. Or how intensely Landa stared at Raine while he helped clean his Swastika.
Now, I'm no rocket scientist, but I don't have to be to see that Raine has some strong feelings for Landa, and Landa may, in return, have some feelings for him. But there in lies the question. What kind of feelings? Kinship? Maybe. Hatred? Just a bit. Love? Possibly. But I'm getting way too deep into this sentimental crap. I see no problem with getting your pleasure from another man, (especially out here) but love is a completely different story.
Love is something reserved for nice little boys and girls who never have to pick up a gun to be safe. Who get married in a small church, surrounded by close friends and family. Then later move into a little house together surrounded by a white, picket fence, have two children, a dog and grow old together. That is what love is. Not heated encounters in the dead of night and praying that no one sees you.
"This is going to hurt," remarked Mrs. Grégoire to Landa, her voice pulling me out of my musings. She grabbed Landa's head and without another word started stitching. Landa was caught off guard and let out a yelp of pain before quieting back down again.
About this time I noticed that the Jewish daughter was watching me, silently, from across the room. So, being nice, I gave her a warm and friendly smile. Or, at least, I thought it was a warm and friendly smile, but if I had to guess from the way she jumped and went to cleaning the stovetop, I'd say she thought I was some sort of mutated monster. I couldn't help feeling slightly dejected at that.
I let out a soft sigh and leaned back against the door, suddenly feeling very tired. Something about the cozy, picturesque scene of a small farm in the countryside, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city, was comforting and slowly lulling me into a feeling of security. That was always a bad thing for a man in my position. Falling asleep on the job, couldn't just mean the death of me, but also my comrades.
I heard a soft click, which confused me for a second, and that was all the time I had to think on the matter before I started falling backwards. I reached out to grab hold of something (anything) but there was nothing within reach. And I remember angrily thinking, "Doesn't anyone knock anymore!" As I plummeted toward the ground.
I braced myself for the hard impact of when my back met floor, but was (pleasantly) surprised when instead of cold, hard ground I felt soft, warm flesh. I felt strong arms wrap firmly around me and hold me up.
"Whoa, sorry Utiv." Said the person holding me. "Didn't know you were leaning against the door."
I looked up and saw Donny smirking down at me. "Yeah right, you jerk," I quipped, hoisting myself up and out of his grip. "You probably knew I was there and did that on purpose."
"No," he laughed.
"Then you have really bad manners," I replied. "You should knock before entering someone else's house."
"Sorry," he said to me before turning to Mrs. Grégoire, "I am sorry Mrs. Grégoire."
"That's alright," replied Mrs. Grégoire as she finished sewing up Landa's forehead. "Boys will be boys." She was much kinder than she had to be to us.
"Raine wants to see you," Donny said turning his attention back to me. "Right now."
"Okay, but Landa is still getting patched up," I replied.
"I only need to get some gauze and wrap up his head, and then he'll be done," cut in Mrs. Grégoire, looking between Donny and me.
"You can go ahead," stated Donny, an evil smirk playing on his lips as he stared at Landa. I could see Landa visibly stiffen and go a bit pale. I felt for him. Donny could be intense when he wanted to be. "I'll watch him."
"Okay," I drawled out the word. Then as I turned to leave, I nudged Donny's arm to get his attention. He turned and looked at me and I gave him a look that clearly said for him not to do anything to Landa while I was gone. Raine would be pissed if Donny went berserk on Landa and ended up beating his brains in.
Back in the barn, Hicox and Raine were both arguing about something while looking over a map.
"Lieutenant Raine," I interjected, walking up to my commanding officers. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," Raine replied, looking up from the map spread out in front of him and Hicox. "Where's Donny and Landa?"
"Back at the house. Danny is watching Landa while Mrs. Grégoire stitches up his forehead," I calmly answered. "I thought it prudent to get his Swastika patched up so that he wouldn't get an infection. It would be hard to get him medical help out here if he did."
"Ah, okay," was all he said on the matter before continuing with the other business. "Our plan is simple. Get out of this death trap of a country and into the UK as soon as possible."
"That sounds a lot easier said than done." I commented. "So, how do we do that?"
"Landa says he'll take me to a radio we can use, but Hicox had a point when he said we couldn't trust 'im far as we could throw 'im. So, only myself, Landa, an' Omar are goin'. You and everyone else will hide in the nearby town, and using Hicox's security and clearance codes I'll get in touch with someone from the British embassy and get them to airlift us outta here."
"Why Omar?" Was the first thing out of my mouth. I had this sour feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Omar going with Raine and Landa. And I actually found myself wanting to go instead.
"Because I need someone stealthy and a good tracker to watch my back," answered Raine.
"I'm stealthy and a good tracker. Take me instead." I don't know what came over me, but I suddenly felt like a child whose parent was paying more attention to my brother than me. I kind of felt jealous.
"You wanna go that badly, huh?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied eagerly.
"Alright then, I guess that settles it. After I get the directions from Landa an' a few necessities, we'll leave at first light." I nodded and asked what I needed to do. "Stiglitz went into town to get supplies, so when he gets back grab a bag and fill it up with what you'll need."
And just as I was about to ask a few more questions, Donny came ambling in with a very disgruntled looking Landa tagging along behind him.
"So, what'd I miss," asked Donny as he merrily shoved Landa down by Raine.
"Nothing much," grunted Raine as he looked over Landa and noticed the white bandages wrapped around his forehead. You could clearly tell that Landa felt uncomfortable under Raine's scrutiny and he shifted uneasily. "Just that Utivich, here, is switching places with Omar."
And in a split second, Donny's facial expression changed from one of being cocky and pleased to one of shock and confusion.
"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.
"I said," answered Raine, his tone taking on a more annoyed pitch. "Utivich is switching places with Omar for the mission to get the radio."
"That's what I thought you said," mumbled Donny as he turned and left the barn the way he had come in.
"Now what the hell is wrong with him?"
"I don't know," I replied softly as I watched Donny leave.
"Utivich would you please go see what has him so upset?" Asked Raine, sounding even more annoyed than before.
"Yeah, sure," I answered, body moving before I even thought about what to do.
"I swear you'd think I was the head of some freakin' girls' scout by the way everyone's been acting lately," I remember hearing Raine mutter. He was talking about Donny and Omar.
Omar had only recently returned from, only God knows where, and he had been quiet and away from everyone since. Raine had said that he was on his period, apparently.
When I first exited the barn and did not immediately see Donny, I rushed around the corner of the barn and toward the house. But paused in my jogging just as I came around the corner and spotted Donny talking to Mrs. Grégoire and the young Jewish daughter. And he was happy and laughing.
Mrs. Grégoire seemed to be translating for Donny and the girl, and in the next minute they were all laughing. I felt a quick pain in my chest, but before I could identify it, it was gone.
The young girl stood, staring wide-eyed and adoring up at Donny as he began to tell her something and Mrs. Grégoire translated. And, if it were even possible, the girl's smile got even wider when Mrs. Grégoire had told her what Donny had said.
I had never felt such a strange combination of sadness, jealousy, and confusion. I was sad because I had not been the one to make Donny smile. Jealous because the girl had. And confused as to why I felt the two previous emotions. I mean, it's not like Donny and I are… lovers or anything. We've just, you know, fooled around some times, to relieve tension and help us relax. In fact we've never actually did it, if you know what I mean.
The girl must have said something funny because in the next minute they all started laughing again, and my stomach churned, unpleasantly. Donny's deep baritone laugh washed over me in rolling waves and it sent a shiver up my spine, because the last time I had heard that laughter was when his lips crept their way down my body and right before he swallowed me whole.
I swallowed hard at the memory and forcibly willed it away before my imagination could get me into trouble. I looked back over at the three of them, at the way the girl seemed to worship Donny with her eyes, and at the way Donny smiled back at her, and I dolefully thought that this was what love was. Silent admiration. Happiness from just talking to someone. And a lovely, innocent woman. Those were all the things that Donny deserved. So, I silently wished him the best of luck and turned around to head back to the barn.
But about half way there I heard someone running up behind me. "Utivich, wait!" I heard someone call. I turned around to see Donny sprinting up to me.
"Donny," I said, a bit surprised. I was sure from the way he was looking at that girl, that not even a Nazi raid could pull him away from her.
"I saw you leaving and was wondering what you needed," said Donny, stopping to stand in front of me.
"Nothing much. I just wanted to see if you were okay. You seemed mad about something earlier. But now I see you are busy with other things…" I said with a suggestive smile. "And you probably want to get back to her, so I'll just leave."
I turned to leave again, but Donny reached out and grabbed me by my upper arm and turned me back around to face him. "Claire?" He asked before continuing. "You saw me talking to her, and what…? That automatically means I'm going to f*ck her?" I sensed Donny's anger rising, and if there was one thing Donny had little control over it was his temper.
So, I calmly said, "Yeah, that's kinda what I thought. I mean, she's really hot."
"So! I'm not some sex-crazed maniac! I have control you know!" He was practically screaming now.
"Calm down. There's no need to get so worked up."
"Oh, there isn't? So, having your friend think that you're a serial rapist is nothing!"
"Wait one second! I never said that!" I was getting aggravated with him now. Why did he always have to take everything I say and twist it?
"But you implied it!"
I felt my own anger rising. He could be such a selfish brute at times that it made it hard to believe he could be a selfless hero at others. A selfless, moronic, hero, that is.
"Utivich! Donny!" Called Raine from inside the barn, effectively stopping Donny from saying whatever he was about to. "Get your butts in here! Hugo just came back with supplies!"
Donny's intense expression lightened for a minute before he went back to scolding expression. Like an idea had just struck him. "C'mon Utiv. I need to talk to Lieutenant Raine," he told me before he stormed off past me, practically leaving me in his dust.
"Lieutenant Raine," said Donny, very formally as he walked up to Raine in the barn. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure. 'Bout what?" Asked Raine, not looking up from the pack he was stuffing with supplies. Hugo was sitting next to him, handing things to him. Hicox was off to the side and talking (interrogating) to the newly bandaged Landa. Omar was, not so surprisingly, absent from the barn (must have disappeared again after I left to check on Donny). And Wicki sat in the far corner by himself, cleaning his pistol.
"About your plan to get that radio," answered Donny.
"What about it? I thought I made everything clear already?" Raine stopped packing and looked up at Donny.
"I want to go with you too," stated Donny, firmly.
"Donny listen…" started Raine, but he never got to finish before Donny cut him off.
"Lieutenant Raine. I want to go." Donny stared the Lieutenant down. No fear of repercussions in his eyes. No uncertainty. Nothing. Just pure conviction. "You know that I would be better suited out there with you guys. Stiglitz and them are more than capable of handling themselves here, but you could use me out there."
"If that's what you really want," sighed Raine. "Fine, you can go. Go grab a pack."
Donny looked triumphant as he went to get his bag. I was just a bit confused. He had never shown any interest in going with Raine and Landa when Omar was. Why, all the sudden, when I was going instead did he want to go too? Did he think that I needed looking after? Sure, I may be the youngest and smallest of the Basterds, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I'm not dead yet am I? If he thinks that I'm some sort of helpless idiot, he better think again. And I'm going to prove to him that I am not.
A/N: Drama, drama, drama. Boys just calm down. No need to act like a bunch of PMSing chicks.
Okay, so I hope you liked this chapter. Spot any grammar mistakes give me a shout and let me know.
Next Chapter - Sgt. Donny Donowits' Notes Part One - You get to see what he was thinking. So, I hope ya'll are still tagging along.
Read and review, because I made a vow to myself that so long as I still have one person out there reading my story I would still write, if only for them and me.