April 20th, 1943; Tuesday Night (After the party)

Paris was eerily dark this time of night. Dim streetlights gleamed weakly, casting their glares on the glass of the SS Mercedes. Krista's reflection in the window peered back at her… pleading. 'Get out while you still can. Leave tonight, and no one will even notice.' She sighed at the sight of her now faded and slightly smudged red lipstick before leaning her head back against the passenger seat's headrest. The city blurred past as the car rocked and the tires hummed beneath them.

She was zoned the fuck out. Long gone. To say she was overwhelmed was the understatement of the year. Her head was spinning from way too much information to unpack at once, and she wanted to just… go home. She wanted to go home to her own house and her own bed and sleep for days.

A gentle hand crept beneath that high slit in Krista's satin gown, and came to rest protectively on her thigh. Landa's thumb slowly and methodically caressed the smooth skin there silently, and Krista hummed quietly to herself as her eyes shifted down to her leg. Her left hand moved undetected from its resting spot on her stomach and let it sit atop his. He widened the spaces between his fingers when he felt her touch and stilled, awaiting her next move. Much to his surprise, she slipped her own fingers delicately into the negative space between his. Their fingers tangled together, and she offered a light squeeze that was immediately reciprocated.

He brought her hand to his lips, letting them linger there for a moment before replacing them in her lap. Her grip between his fingers loosened, and her eyes trailed her thumb as it absentmindedly traced over the veins that ran over the back of his hand. Hans let his thumb snake around the underside of her wrist, effectively turning her hand over in the process. Their palms kissed and her heart fluttered at the unforeseen spark. No, no, no. This was wrong. She couldn't allow herself to actually fall for this man. Come on. True affection was something that she was fairly certain that neither of them were realistically capable of.

Krista watched intently as he lovingly dipped his fingers between hers, and she couldn't stop the faint, stupid smile when his fingertips pressed into her knuckles. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Hans asked abruptly, his vision not wavering from the road before them. "We're alone now. Just you and me."

Krista dug her teeth into her lip as she gave his hand a squeeze. God, she sure hoped that she could trust Hans. "Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner approached me at the party. While I was in your office." She finally said with a quiet voice.

Come to think of it, Hans recalled Kaltenbrunner disappearing for a chunk of time, then reappearing out of thin air. "What did he ask you?"

She swallowed, and her gaze turned down to their joined hands again. "He asked me why I have an interest in you."

"And what did you say?" He asked, finally turning to glance at her.

She shook her head and turned her attention to the darkness that lie beyond the confines of the car. Her response to Kaltenbrunner could get her in trouble. She was in no place to be questioning a general or to be cheeky. "Krista, what did you say?"

"I told him that our relationship was private, and that it was nobody's business but our own." She expected to feel the sting of a hand across her face for the way she disrespected Kaltenbrunner. Instead, He simply chuckled amusedly.

"You've got guts, girl," he teased. "He's incredibly high on the chain of command."

"I know," she answered sheepishly.

"What? I meant that as a compliment," he tried, but the saddened look on her face made his smile slip.

Krista opened her mouth, but she couldn't say it. She tried again, and bit into her lip. "He told me that you can't protect me from him. And I don't know what to do with that."

"You have nothing to worry about, my dear. I'm not going to let anyone do anything to you."

Krista forced a weak smile and squeezed his hand again, her nails digging crescent shapes into his knuckles. "I want to believe you." The fingertips of her right hand traced over those impressions that she had left. She wanted so desperately to believe that Hans was being sincere, because having him as a safety was something she felt that she needed. She needed his alliance to keep her alive.

"I want you to believe me." He brought the car to a stop at empty intersection and finally let his eyes fall down to their interwoven fingers. "I want you to trust me," he added quietly. So quietly that it was barely audible over the growling of the massive inline eight that powered the car.

She wanted to kiss him. So bad. She didn't know why, but she just wanted to feel his lips sliding soothingly against hers. Her heart began to race like it was sprinting toward a nonexistent finish line. She couldn't stop herself… she just went for it. Her fingers tightened around his as she turned in her seat to face him. Fluidly, her right hand found the back of his neck and she tugged him closer.

When her lips topped his, it felt different. It wasn't a kiss that said 'I want you', it was more along the lines of 'I do trust you'. His eyes immediately searched for hers when she pulled back and he couldn't help but notice the way she rolled her lips together just as she did after every time they kissed. When she finally caught his eyes, she held them. "Ich vertraue dir," (I trust you) she assured him as her hand slipped from his neck down to his chest, then finally back into her lap. Maybe she shouldn't trust him. History told her that she shouldn't, but she was prepared to take a chance and make an exception.

For a moment, Hans refused to break their eye contact as he applied the minimum pressure to the throttle. When they both turned their attention out the windshield, the lights of the entryway to the Saint James were closing in.

When they stopped out front, he pried his fingers from hers and got out of the car without shutting it off. Hans circled around the front of the car to open her door for her, and she snatched up her purse that was sitting at her feet. A rush of chilled April air greeted her face as the door opened. Krista took the hand that was offered to her, and took care in standing up on the curb. He watched as she ran her hands down the front of her body to smooth her dress out, and when she turned just right, he caught the eye catching gleam of the flawless diamonds around her neck. He grasped both of her hands, and pulled her to him. "I apologize for tonight being a disaster. I'd like to make it up to you."

Krista shook her head. "I'm not going to ask you to do that. Tonight wasn't about me anyway."

"You're unhappy," he said bluntly.

She shrugged, and took a step closer to Hans, closing the remaining space between them. "That's not your problem. It's okay if I'm unhappy."

"I'll make it right," he said softly, wriggling a hand free to remove his military cover from his head and drop it on the roof of the car. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she replied, closing her eyes when his fingertips brushed through her now limp curls.

"Okay then. That's all I need." He pressed his palm into the small of her back, and brought their chests together. "I'm going to make it up to you," he breathed before at long last catching her lips. They moved together at such a slow pace that it was such sweet torture, because he knew it wouldn't last forever. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he whispered before placing one last peck on her red lips.

"Okay. Drive safe," she told him before leaving him with an exhausted smile.

Hans leaned back against the car, his hands in his pockets as he watched her disappear from view. Now he was the one that had a lot of information to unpack and stew over.

He situated himself back inside the car, and shifted into drive. When he throttled the car forward, he breathed deeply into his lungs. He could still smell her in the car. The hypnotic scent of her perfume lingered long after she'd been gone, and he couldn't resist the way grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Hans had had his fair share of women, and for that he wasn't ashamed. While those sexual conquests had been filled with passion and desire, none of them were-dare he say it-memorable. He probably couldn't even tell you a single one of their names. But this American woman… she was built different. She gave him a run for his money. She didn't fit in the damsel in distress box. If anything, she was the one who he figured would likely be dishing out the distress. She carried herself with the strength of a woman that fought her way through hell and back alone and lived to tell the tale. Krista Jäger was quite possibly the most audacious and confident woman he had ever met, because no one in their right mind would have the balls to stand up to Kaltenbrunner just as she did. Clearly, she had a zero-tolerance policy for bullshit, and she wouldn't take it from anyone, regardless of their rank.

She was so much more like him than she realized, and then her words crossed his mind… 'Two dominant personalities don't mix'. And she was absolutely correct. They didn't mix. There was no telling where this relationship was heading, but it was bound to crash and burn at the end. It wouldn't last forever, and that was just him being real.

She was mysterious and painfully addictive, and goddamn did she have sex appeal. It was an actual challenge to keep his hands off of her in inappropriate situations, but those intrusive thoughts were there, because who was going to stop him? It was almost like after his months upon months of waiting for someone like her to cross his path, he was at long last getting a taste of payoff. She was the zest in his life that he needed.

Now sitting at the desk of his home office lit only by a small desk lamp, he unlocked the very bottom drawer, and removed the false bottom. Out came a single file folder with the initials 'KJ' written on the tab. His vision lingered for a moment on the photograph he had attached on the outside of the folder. The only physical photograph he had in his possession of her was the one that was taken of the two of them at the first official event she was dragged to. Hans opened the file up, and flipped through the pages of handwritten notes until he landed on a sheet that was nearly blank sans one entry. Each entry was dated, along with a brief description of his findings. '20/04/1943' He wrote, but stopped there. He stared down at the date, but he just couldn't put the pen to paper. All of a sudden, he was beginning to have second thoughts about his personal off the books investigation he had chosen to conduct. It felt wrong, more or less. Immoral even.

At first, he had every right to be overly suspicious and cautious of her. Her plan seemed full of holes. Occupied France was not the place to go if you are searching for your family, so he could only assume that her intentions were nothing short of devious and meddlesome. After spending what felt like endless amounts of time with her in the last month or so, he had officially come to the conclusion that she was not in fact a spy, nor was she any sort of a threat. She was just a beautiful woman hell-bent on finding answers, and nothing more.

After discarding his pen to the desktop, he gave their photo one last look and replaced it in its hiding spot. Hans laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. He didn't want to keep tabs on her. It was pointless. He didn't want to keep watching her and waiting for her to fuck up to give him something he could use as a weapon against her. She honestly meant no harm.

April 21st, 1943; Wednesday Afternoon (Gestapo Headquarters)

Three more hours, and Hans could leave.

Sign here, initial there… date right here… He was tired of writing his name for the day. This was the exact reason that he preferred field work. Administrative paperwork was dull and time consuming, and not to mention, not the best use of his abilities and intelligence. The stack of reports that needed to be read, notarized, and filed away was slowly depleting, but still felt like it was going nowhere. One more signature, and he told himself he could take a break. He wanted to smoke.

He lit one up and leaned back, kicking his feet up onto the desk. It never failed though, whenever he tried to sneak a second of relaxation, he was always needed right then and there. A rap on the door made him roll his eyes, and he considered being polite and putting out his cigarette, but fuck 'em. He looked toward the door, and pulled his feet back down to the floor. He knew this moment was coming. He'd been waiting for it all day. "Obergruppenführer Kaltenbrunner. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, taking a drag on his cigarette and tapping the ash off into the ashtray.

He strode in with an arrogant authority, and sat in the chair opposite Hans. "That girl of yours is really something."

Hans deadpanned, waiting for him to continue.

"She has a very blatant disrespect for authority. But you already knew that." Kaltenbrunner leaned back in the chair, making himself comfortable.

Fine. He'd bite. "I hear you had words with my mistress last night."

Kaltenbrunner shook his head, and chuckled darkly. "I knew she wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut."

"The girl means no ill harm," he defended, taking one last drag on his cigarette before crushing it out in the ashtray.

Kaltenbrunner cocked his head in disbelief. "What do you actually know about this woman?"

Hans crossed his arms across his chest. "Enough."

"Did you know she's American?" Kaltenbrunner sneered.

"Yes."

He narrowed his eyes at Hans. "And you chose to leave that out?"

"I suppose I did. My sincerest apologies, Obergruppenführer." He let his lips curl up into a cocky grin.

"I could have you stripped of your rank, Landa."

Hans shook his head, and couldn't help but laugh a little. "But you won't. You wouldn't dare go above The Führer, would you?"

Kaltenbrunner leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Allow me to remind you… I may not be your direct commanding officer, but you still have to answer to me."

Hans cocked his head to the side, too, lowering his voice. "You've always been so quick to pull rank."

"And you wonder why I advanced so much faster than you." Kaltenbrunner stood up, stuffing his hands down into his pockets. "Get rid of the girl, Landa, or I will do it personally."

"She has no malicious intentions, Ernst. I want her left alone." His grin faded now, and he was all business.

"You know as well as I do that I can't do that. She's the enemy, Hans. Do you not see that?"

Hans shifted, his elbows now pressed to the desktop with his hands folded under his chin. "I understand where she was born, yes. But that does not make her an enemy to me."

Kaltenbrunner shook his head again. "Why are you defending her?" Landa's expression was cool and unchanging. "Hm. I see what's going on here. You're falling for her. How nauseating." His voice was layered thick with disgust.

"You don't know her like I do." He felt that he had some strange connection with Krista, and he got a side of her that no one else did. Kaltenbrunner could never know Krista like he did.

"She's a whore!" He said, raising his voice angrily. He simply stared at the man sitting across for him, waiting for him to say something. "I'll kill her."

"I won't let you," he stated assuredly.

Kaltenbrunner scrubbed a hand down his face. Trying to reason with Hans right now was like trying to reason with a brick wall. He was getting absolutely nowhere. "What part of 'I outrank you' don't you understand? She is a spy, and that is that."

"I don't have any reason to believe that."

"She's a temptress. She's playing games with you, but you're so blinded by her, that you can't see the bigger picture here. If you continue to play along, I will not hesitate to relocate you, and destroy her. The one thing you will not do is stand in my way." He turned to head toward the door.

"She's not a nuisance," he tried.

Kaltenbrunner faced Hans again, and let his mouth fall agape. This was truly entertaining. "She's going to burn your career to the ground. All for what? Pleasure in the night when no one else is around?"

Landa was growing tired of his relationship being questioned. Krista was onto something when she said that it was only their business. "The methods in which I conduct my personal life are just that: Personal."

"You'll never learn. Do you remember the girl you snuck around with in Dresden? What was her name again… Ah yes. Hélène. Am I correct?" Hans said nothing, but allowed his eyes to narrow. "She disappeared."

"I'm finished with this conversation." Hans growled, his angry eyes never leaving Kaltenbrunner.

Ernst laughed again, finally making his way to the door and resting his hand on the handle. "Fine. Have it your way. But we are far from finished discussing this… heathen you insist on sleeping with. You know I could make her disappear, too."

Hans watched as Kaltenbrunner slammed the door behind him, making the blinds bounce off the glass in the door with a clatter.

He picked his pen up with his fingers and slung it off to a corner in his office to be no doubt forgotten. Hans dropped his head into his hand and took a few forced deep breaths. Krista was a handful, and she was amazing in every way. She was… perfect. But damn, did she stress him out. He had a general on his ass again now because of her, so was it really worth it? His reputation was potentially at stake here.

When he was stationed in Dresden was the last time he recalled having feelings for a woman like he did for Krista. Her name was Hélène. She was a French runaway that stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. They had a few very heated months in secret, but it all ended abruptly when she vanished into thin air. The story was that she had moved on and fled to Spain, but Hans was nowhere near that guillable. He knew better. He knew that she had been 'dealt with'.

Kaltenbrunner had had it out for him since then, never trusting his judgment when it came to women. Tensions between them had eased for a few years, but when Krista walked into the picture, Kaltenbrunner was hasty to adopt his old ways.

He knew that Kaltenbrunner killed Hélène, but he'd never get a confession. It must have been the most painful and torturous death considering Kaltenbrunner's short fuse and brutality. He couldn't bear to see such a sweet woman like Krista meet the same fate. She didn't deserve to go out like that.

It didn't take him long to decide that from this point forward, he was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He was excellent at reading people, that's how he rose up the ladder so quickly. And he felt deep down that Krista could be trusted. He vowed to protect her from that point forward, and to always be at her defense. She needed to have someone in her corner, so Hans took it upon himself to be that person. It was best for her to have someone on her side with rank and connections to give her at least some sort of immunity. This wasn't love, but he did care about her and her safety. Being at her side was right where he wanted to be.