A/N: It took me awhile to get this out. I kept hitting a writer's block, and the playful plot bunnies in my head demanded that I write Pianist slash fics.

Warnings: SLASH, duuuuhhhh.

Special thanks to everyone who is still following along. : )

Sgt. Donny Donowits' Notes Part One

I stomped out of the barn, a bit angry and a bit confused. I was angry that Raine was sending Utivich into the danger zone, when it was originally supposed to be Omar. What was he thinking? Utivich wasn't experienced enough to handle a situation like this. Sure, he had come a long way from the short, wide-eyed Private he was at the beginning of operation Kino; he was tougher now, thicker skinned, with sharper instincts. But he still needed someone there to watch his back, like I had been doing this whole time.

As I irritably rounded the corner of the barn, I practically ran over Mrs. Grgoire and the young, Jewish girl. "Oh, please excuse me," I said, remembering my manners.

"That is alright," replied Mrs. Grgoire, then she looked up at me curiously. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

"Donny Donowits, ma'am," I replied.

"Well, Donny, my name is Marie Grgoire and this young lady here is Claire," said Mrs. Grgoire, motioning to the brunette standing next to her.

Claire was a short, brunette, with big brown eyes and soft, voluptuous curves. She looked up at me and blushed a deep red before returning her gaze to the ground. She mumbled something in French, and a moment later Mrs. Grgoire translated.

"She says," chuckled Mrs. Grgoire, "that it's very nice to meet you."

"Well, would you please tell her that it is also very nice to meet her," I re-laid to Mrs. Grgoire before she turned to Claire and spoke a few words to her in French. A second later Claire was speaking rapid fire French to her, Claire's face turning scarlet red as she spoke and her eyes were, pointedly, not looking at either of us.

Mrs. Grgoire laughed, goodheartedly, causing Claire to shuffle her feet and stare down, intently, at them. "She says," explained Mrs. Grgoire, turning back toward me, "that she admires how strong you are." Mrs. Grgoire paused and leaned closer to me like she was about to tell me a secret. "And she thinks that you're quite handsome. But don't tell her I told you that."

I beamed at the compliment and told Mrs. Grgoire to tell Claire that I thought she was a very pretty girl. The girl seemed happy by my compliment as she asked Mrs. Grgoire something that had Mrs. Grgoire looking puzzled at her.

"She is curious," started Mrs. Grgoire, "as to how many Nazis you, personally, have killed." I shifted uncomfortable under the two women's curious stares. I was feeling both proud and embarrassed that she had asked that.

"Well, I don't know the exact number," I conceded, honestly. "But it would have to be somewhere in the hundreds." Mrs. Grgoire looked shocked and I felt the need to lighten the mood. "But don't worry. I heard when all Nazis die they go to Nazi heaven. Somewhere nice and hot. In fact, some people would even say it's on fire." Mrs. Grgoire laughed. "And you know the best part? There are no Jews there."

Mrs. Grgoire turned to Claire, still laughing, and told her what I had said. I saw her smile widen as she laughed along with Mrs. Grgoire.

Claire was quite the beautiful girl. Short, brown hair with big brown eyes that looked up at me like I was some sort of superhero. She was the type of girl that the boys back home would've fought over. But every time I looked at her soft, round face I couldn't help but see shining, blue eyes that held a spark of mischief to them. And I did so love those eyes.

I was so caught up in my own musings that I had missed whatever Mrs. Grgoire was translating. But when she started laughing so did I. It was a fake laugh, of course, since I had no idea what she had said, but I didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings so I played along.

As I laughed I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. When I turned and looked, I saw Utivich walking away around the corner. I quickly turned back to the girls, gave them my apologies, and left.

I jogged my way up to him, almost running into him as I rounded the corner that only moments before he had disappeared behind.

"Utivich, wait!" I yelled. He stopped and turned around. I ran up and stood next to him.

"Donny," he said, sounding surprised.

"I saw you leaving and was wondering what you needed," I explained.

"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…" A very lewd smile came over his face for a minute before it was gone again. "And you probably want to get back to her, so I'll just leave."

He thought that I was flirting with Claire! Sure, she's hot, but she's not my type! He should know I like strong women. I like a woman who pushes back when I push. A woman who likes to play a little rough and is anything but fragile.

He turned to leave again, but I grabbed his arm and turned him back to face me. "Claire?" I asked. "You saw me talking to her, and what…? That automatically means I'm going to f*ck her?"

"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!" I was on the verge of screaming in anger now.

"Calm down. There's no need to get so worked up."

"Oh, there isn't?" I asked with bitter sarcasm. "So, having your friend think that you're a serial rapist is nothing!"

"Wait one second! I never said that!"

"But you implied it!"

Utivich looked angry and indignant and that's when I realized that I may have gone a little overboard. But I can't help it! I just get so frustrated whenever I try to sort out my feelings for him, and in the end I usually lash out at him in aggravation. It seems like every time I begin to understand one emotion he does something else and makes me feel a whole new set of emotions.

I suddenly felt the need to prove myself, but to him or myself I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I hated when he looked at me that way; angry and hating me. I would do just about anything to make him understand how I truly felt about him. But I'm no good at all with this sentimental, emotional crap that people in relationships should be good at. Crap! Now we're in a relationship! I don't even know anymore.

I feel hopeless. I want to tell him how I feel about him, but I'm not some love-sick poet out to write the next Romeo and Juliet. I'm just a guy.

I opened my mouth to say something, but was cut short by Raine calling us back into the barn. I was about to curse the man into the next century, when I was struck with an idea.

"C'mon Utiv. I need to talk to Lieutenant Raine," I informed Utivich as I walked past him and made a bee-line straight for the barn.

"Lieutenant Raine," I said as I marched into the barn. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure. What about?" Raine asked as he continued to pack his bag with supplies.

I quickly explained that I too wanted to go with him and Utivich to get the radio. Raine didn't look too pleased at first, but he wasn't outright fuming either. I took that as a good sign. After a short awhile he finally agreed to let me go.

I won't lie, I felt triumphant. I know that Utivich was probably pissed at me for treating him like a helpless kid, but this was the only way I knew how to convey my feelings to him. By protecting him.

Nighttime approached faster than ever before and the bitter chill of the night was nothing compared to the cold shoulder Utivich seemed to be giving me.

Raine was giving everybody watch shifts and once again going over the plans for in the morning and so on. I was, I am ashamed to say, not paying attention to a single word that came out of his southern mouth. I was much too busy watching Utivich practically seethe off to the side.

"Utivich," I said walking over to the shorter man, once Raine had finished talking.

"Do you have everything?" He quickly asked, his voice a lot less biting than I thought it would be.

"Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you-"

"If you have everything and you paid attention to Lieutenant Raine, then there should be nothing we need to talk about," replied Utivich, putting emphasis on the paid attention to Raine part. He knew me well enough to know that I hadn't. And I knew him well enough to know that he knew. I also knew when to leave well enough alone. There would be plenty of time later to talk with Utivich, but for now I'll just let him cool down a bit.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." It was going to be a long, cold night.

Sure enough, the night seemed twice as long and twice as cold as the night before. And all throughout the night, my mind worked nonstop until sleep wasn't even an option anymore. Scenarios played over and over in my head, each different from the last and each showing me possible ways to voice my feelings. And possible outcomes. Why was this so hard? Why can't I just say how I feel and that be it? What I feel is not complicated. Well, it sort of is, but, I mean… Crap. This is hard.

Words really aren't my strong suit. That's why I started this journal. I figured the more I wrote, the more I would improve on my writing skills. Now it only seems to just be causing me more distress.

The morning couldn't come soon enough for me and after a quick breakfast, and Raine once again going over the battle plan, we were off. Utivich, Landa, Raine and I heading one way, the others heading the other.

"So were to Kraut?" I asked Landa, mockingly, as I walked up next to him and Raine.

"Roune, on the edge of the Seine River," explained Landa. "If I remember correctly there should be a Nazi military base stationed near there for the time being. But whether it's still there or not is debatable."

"You think that they'd have moved all that stuff out so quickly?" Asked Raine. "Hitler's death would be a big thing, but still, it would take some time for word to travel."

"I agree," replied Landa. "So there are two problems, one being that they have heard of Hitler's death and have already moved out all the equipment or they haven't yet and are still locked down tight."

"I see. So what yer saying is that we're screwed both ways."

"Not necessarily. I am hoping that they have heard of Hitler's death and that in their haste to leave the country, they left most of the heavy equipment behind, realizing that it would only slow them down."

Raine scratched at his chin, a sign that he was in deep thought. It was one of his many quirks. "I see what yer saying," replied Raine, and I was also starting to see what Landa was getting at. Maybe the Nazi sh*t head wasn't as useless as I had originally thought.

As Landa and Raine continued to talk about battle strategies and make future plans, I slowed down my pace to walk next to Utivich who was straggling along behind us. He didn't make eye contact with me as I walked up next to him and I didn't make eye contact with him either, I just continued to stare at Landa and Raine's backs as they continued to talk, adamantly, about one thing or another. But once I was sure that the two men ahead of us were in a deep enough conversation that they wouldn't over hear what we were saying, I spoke to Utivich.

"Listen Utiv." I started, not daring to look over at him, instead I kept my eyes firmly fixed ahead of me. "I know you're mad at me, and I think I know why too. But you might as well get over it. Because, no matter how many times you say that you can take care of yourself, I'm not going to leave you." I turned to look at him and was surprised to see that he was looking right back at me. "Because I want to protect you. Because…" I faltered. I just had to say it, but couldn't. Why? "Because- I care about you."

The shocked expression that came over his face had my own face turning red from embarrassment. Geez, was it so hard to believe that I might actually care for him? Well, if that's how he thinks then I'll prove to him, not with words, but by actions how much I care about him. Besides, I was always better at action then with words.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write, but as previously stated those darn plot bunnies caught me right when I hit a writer's block. I hate those things.

Thanks for your patience if anyone's still tagging along. Sorry for the short chapter, but like Stiglitz, I believe Donny is more of a man of action than a philosopher. So, expect short chapters with both Donny and Stiglitz.

Next Chapter - Pfc. Omar Ulmer's Notes Part One